Lyn's Lifepixels

All Better!

2012-01-23T20:59:00.001-05:00

huh um *clears throat* I'm back! After a three day horizontal holiday (cable tv is the pits by the way), burning through boxes of lotion-treated Kleenex (I'm worth it) and slurping enough cups of tea to float a boat - I am here to celebrate the virtues of NyQuil! I dispensed of my nasty ailment just in time to go to work today. I started off slowly but as the hours wore on, my cold wore off.

So I am back, better than ever. Just thought you'd want to know. : )

And I am going to China. Did I mention that?

Sniffle, Snorkle and Cough

2012-01-20T22:00:00.002-05:00

My head is fuzzy,
my nose so runny.
eyes are watering,
did I mention coughing?

It's called a cold
then why am I hot?
Wait! Now a chill
confirming I'm ill.

Powerful sneezes
and repetitive sniffles
Throw in some wheezes
and pass the Kleenex.

It could be a ploy
to get some tlc,
empathy, sympathy
a-choo, bless me!

More tissue please!

Living and Leaving

2012-01-19T21:56:00.000-05:00

I just missed him by ten minutes. I called to say happy birthday to my father-in-law but he had already left for work. He's not one for long phone chats or alot of fussing but he does enjoy having his family about. However he's working all weekend so the celebration will wait for a week.

Gear shift. My ex-father-in-law passed away yesterday at the age of 92. My girls were understandably upset; and as with Jewish custom, he was put to rest today. Amid swirling snow and frigid temperatures we formed a circle around the freshly dug grave and watched the solid wood casket adorned with the carved Star of David disappear slowly into the ground. We tossed poppies into the grave to commemorate his military service as the rabbi chanted in Hebrew. Then came the final and most difficult obligation -- to bury the dead. Each one of us took our turn at shovelling dirt from the pile onto the casket. It was a jarring sight, driving home the finality of death. I watched as his estranged son poured four shovelfuls into the hole -- one for he and his wife and for each of his sons, both of whom were not present, nor who were known to their grandfather. It was a heart wrenching sight. Were there regrets; words left unsaid? Would he find peace?

My daughter and I drove home in a blizzard, processing this ritual of death, discussing customs and these rituals that we cling to to ease us through this labyrinth that is our life.

Hubby just handed me the phone with a smile; my father-in-law was on the other end. My FIL joked that he and his son had run out of words in their conversation .... and then proceeded to chatter (uncharacteristically) about his day and all of the birthday wishes he received. He was clearly touched that his brothers had reached out to him and that he had heard from his loved ones. We agreed that a year lived was something that deserved celebrating. And so we will.

Today was a day of celebrating my father in laws --

one - a long life well lived, the return of his body from where it came, and the leaving of his spirit from this earth, and

the other - a year of life and milestone birthday (cheque is in the mail!)

Goodbye. You were loved. Happy birthday. You are loved by many.

Life is a twisted yarn of irony, surprises, and mysteries. And that is what makes it worth living. And for that I am eternally grateful.

Memory Jolt

2012-01-17T23:57:00.000-05:00

I was singing in the car on my way home from work. The sun was low in the sky under a blanket of gray and the wipers swiped in tandem with the music. I squinted to see the lines on the highway -- forgot my glasses at my desk -- and dodged pools of water that looked like small lakes.

And then it popped into my head - randomly, without warning: thoughts of my grandmother. I could see her face and hear her faint, raspy voice. Flashback to my final visit with her. She told me to be a good wife and mother, and to have a happy life. She said not to worry, she was tired and ready to go. I kissed her and whispered "I love you Gram", and she clasped my hands in hers and said, "I love you too Lyn. Every once in a while stop and say a little prayer for me".

And with that I walked to the door - looked back at her tiny, frail frame propped up in the bed - and said "Bye Gram. I love you". She smiled with great effort and mouthed "you too".

And so Gram, I kept my promise. I thought of you today -- and said a little prayer. It was random and unexpected, but memories are like that. Sometimes we choose them and other times, they find us.

You've been gone for twenty years; I still miss you.

Martin Luther King Day

2012-01-16T21:44:00.001-05:00

Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it.

Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it.

Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it.

- Martin Luther King Jr.

Inked

2012-01-15T21:20:00.000-05:00

If thoughts were made of ink, oh what a library of works I'd have.

Sifting through my stack of old journals, excavating memories scrawled in my handwriting from moments stolen mostly late at night after little girls were in bed. Random thoughts and musings; funny little things my little girls said and did; milestones; laments; dreams; lists and bits of paper -- copy of my first commission cheque, pros and cons of my new job offer, and lots of treasure notes. I called my daughter to recite one of the adorable entries I wrote about her.

At times the handwriting is meticulous and strong in permanent ink; and other times, it is hurried lines scrawled in faded pencil - each entry a desire to express and archive.

And now I blog. My MIH had my posts rolled into print; three years of thoughts put to ink in one big fat volume. Thank you MIH. And now as I flip through the pages, my words coming back to me, it confirms what I have always known to be true: that I write that which I need most to remind myself.

So it turns out that my thoughts are indeed made of ink. And oh what a library of works I have.

Closed for the Season

2012-01-14T18:54:00.000-05:00

It's what we do here in winterland -- we hibernate; bundle up; snuggle in and shut down -- or at least we try to. Hubby ~~bribed~~ dragged me out of our cave with promises of treats from the German deli. After sampling more samples than I ought to - but chocking it up to maintaining that layer of insulating fat we so desperately need to survive in the wild, we took a stroll on the boardwalk. Dr Doolittle chatted with the geese who had decided to forgo their trip south dummies and apologised to them for not having bread to share. And we wonder why they don't migrate...

The temps dropped to -12 C, confusing the creeks -- freeze or not to freeze -- and plunging us head on into our frigid winter, bypassing any fashion of acclimatization. It's not unlike having a bucket of cold water dumped on you without warning. I barely exchanged my umbrella for the ice scraper and snow brush but being the contingency planner that I am -- I was indeed prepared. Hubby was my willing partner in crime as I insisted braving the breeze off the lake to snap some "cold" shots - that is until the battery in my camera succumbed to the cold and my fingers lost all sensation. I took this as a sign to retreat to the cave, but only after replenishing all lost calories with a trip to the fish and chip shop.

After a four-hour duck into my Pop's place to roll his last three years and 600+ blog posts tidily into hardcover books and a glass or two of his finest fermented grapes, I am once again back in the cave, content and sufficed, bundled up and snuggled in and ready to shut down. Cause that is what we do here in winterland.

Be Careful What You Wish For

2012-01-13T23:59:00.000-05:00

Winter has a dry sense of humour arriving on Friday the 13th - hours after I posted a woeful poem about missing winter. It snowed today ... like frosting on a cake, concealing the ice sheets that lay beneath. The wind howled and drove mini snow funnels across the hood of the car, making the drive to work treacherous and ~~tedious~~. Well it would have been tedious if not for my new Zune loaded with my favourite tunes ... John Denver, Adele, and I sang my way to work. I arrived happy, on time and a little windswept with a hot cup of Tim Hortons in hand.

So Winter ... you've made quite an entrance, arriving fashionably late and a little obnoxiously. But I am a gracious host and so I say - welcome! Now where are my mittens??

Oddly Strange

2012-01-12T23:23:00.001-05:00

Oddly, strange
foggy rain
in January.

Wool, fleece
giving way
to umbrellas.

No snow
has fallen
to shovel.

Missing winter
in hiding
Oddly, strange.

Documentary Delirium

2012-01-11T23:27:00.001-05:00

When I was a kid my parents bought a set of Encyclopedia Britannica which included a set of children's volumes. Each of the books had a specific topic: fairy tales, nature, science, etc. The worn, faded cover of the "Famous People" volume with the pages falling out was a testament to my fondness for my favourite. Yup! Red Riding Hood and Rupunzel were tossed in favour of Harriet Tubman and the underground railroad, Susan B Anthony and her fight for women's rights and "Give me liberty or give me death" Patrick Henry. Simply put, I was a cynical child who found fairy tales frustrating and childish, and true stories totally satisfying. Did I mention I didn't smile until I was seven?That has not changed (except for the part about me not smiling), and extends to my taste in films as well, especially documentaries. Real life is simply more riveting (to me).

I have been on a bit of a documentary roll lately, and enjoying every minute of it. Last night my daughter joined me downtown for a preview screening of Pink Ribbons, Inc. The film examines a myriad of issues around breast cancer and the corporate pink ribbon marketing phenomenon -- pinkwashing. “We used to march in the streets; now we run for a cure.” When the lights came up Harmony and I sat quietly in our seats, absorbing what we had experienced and regrouping. The film left an indelible mark and so much to discuss. What causes breast cancer? How can it be prevented? Where do the dollars raised go? Who, if anyone, is spearheading the search for a cause/cure for this devastating disease? What about the hypocrisy in companies running pink ribbon campaigns that sell products containing toxins linked to cancer? How can we affect change in women's health care? Who is in charge?

If you have breasts and/or have ever donated to breast cancer research, you should see this film. It was named one of the TOP 10 Films when it premiered at TIFF in September and when it opens in theatres February 3rd I hope people flock to see it. It is an important film. And hey - you need something to gnaw on when you are lying in bed with your insomnia! [steps off soap box]

On Top of Things

2012-01-09T22:05:00.001-05:00

I am starting this glorious new year off on the right foot - on top of things. I pushed a little harder to make my work deadlines to stay ahead of the curve and prevent stressful bottlenecks. I took a healthy lunch to work and hit the gym -- have to try to reverse the concave butt the extensive time in my chair is imposing. I packed up my desk, washed my coffee cup, wiped down all of the flat surfaces in my workstations with fresh smelling disinfectant and left the office at a decent hour.

When I got home (stomach growing ferociously thanks to my workout) I sliced up a lean steak and threw it into a pan with onions, fresh ginger, garlic, red and yellow peppers, a few baby potatoes and broccoli. A dash of mango juice (holiday leftover) for flavour, some crushed chilies for heat, and ten minutes later I had a healthy, satisfying dinner. I scrubbed the kitchen down until it glistened and then hit the couch to reclaim my "potato" status. I got hubby to show me (AGAIN) how to use our Wii to connect to Netflix and then watched a documentary entitled God Grew Tired of Us: The Story of Lost Boys of Sudan. I expected to be moved but I didn't expect the film to be such an eye-opener with respect to our North American culture and values. It was like a mirror being held up to our society ... and it was a little sad. I found myself thinking more than once that the Kenyan refugee camp offered them more than the fast paced, commercialized, unfriendly western society. Bottom line: it was a wonderfully satisfying film and an extraordinary story.

I feel good tonight. Fritz is making like a nice dog and sleeping on my feet and the twinges in my butt tell me I am on the right track for better health. And that is my goal: a more active, balanced, healthy life, with time to nurture relationships.

So hang on 2012 - 'cause I am out to conquer you!

Around Town

2012-01-08T19:29:00.001-05:00

A full week into January and winter is still sidelined; although on a particular day you can feel a hint of frigid in the wind. But this morning the sun streaming in my window signaled another day of glorious weather and coaxed hubby and I down to the lake to enjoy the reprieve.

So Sunday was spent as it was meant to be .,. in the sun, walking about our picturesque little town. The oaks stand mighty; the heritage homes are reminiscent of English manors; the main street is thriving and alive, and the lake hugs the community with deep affection.

Today was as close to perfect as you could get. Soon my pictures will be of a snowy, frozen world but until then, I am grateful for the above freezing temps, sunshine and freshness that is our January - for now. Here are scenes from our day.

Hot tea in a starry mug

Celebration

2012-01-07T23:57:00.001-05:00

I am overly sufficiently sufficed with full of two plates of Chinese food tucked nicely into my food belly and I may be seeking a few TUMS in a minute, but it's been a good day.

We gathered a few days late to celebrate my Pops 75th birthday. I was wondering if it was going to be a major waterworks event, however it was just nicely sentimental. This was the birthday my dad asked for; he took control and organized the celebration to his liking: Chinese food; no gifts and no fuss. After my sister SKYPED in and we had our fill of cake he asked everyone into the livingroom. With kids sprawled out on the floor nursing their food bellies he proceeded to dish out special mementos to each of us: the metal insignia off of our Cadillac; his daybook of inspiring quotations; jewelry carved by his Inuit friends; pucks from his past hockey life .... you get the idea. It was fun to listen as he told the story of each item and watch everyone open their loot bag.

Then he ran a quiz of 10 questions about him and his family -- and awarded a coin as a prize. The kids joked that they would have to study before the next famjam.

I think he enjoyed his birthday. We always feel the void when we are missing some of our precious family members ... but all in all, I think he could feel the love and admiration in the room. He ushered in 75 by giving a little -- no -- alot -- to each one of us. Happy birthday ... and pass the TUMS!

Mama T presenting the cake

Sis and her hubby SKYPED in

Hot and Bothered

2012-01-06T23:57:00.001-05:00

Eyelids droop, fatigue sets in yet I am compelled to write.

My new fleece PJ's are conspiring with my power surges and wreaking havoc ... These days the power surges are coming fast and furious sometimes with only 15 minutes respite between. The heat onsets quickly without warning - firey heat blazing up my back. The clothes come off as quickly as I can unbutton, unravel and unzip. If my skin had a zipper, I'd remove that too. Hubby is getting used to the sight of me in various states of undress [wrinkles nose and looks quizzical] but somehow the hot flash factor is devoid of sexy. It's a throw back to the days when I was pregnant and my undershirt worthy boobs blossomed to enormous and sore - and I invoked the look but don't touch rule.

Sleep is difficult with the "surge, remove, flash, freeze and pull on" cycle repeating continuously throughout the night. Hubby's sleep is no doubt being affected but it's the dog that I worry about. Kidding ... Brings new meaning to being "hot and bothered".

I imagine I sound like quite a whiner but really -- it's not a huge deal. In fact I have a theory that I am riding the tail end of this man-oh-pause thing and that it is going out with a bang. As always, I am doing my best to enjoy this phase of my life. I think I am starting to understand the "pause" part.

And so tonight, I had the urge to pause and reflect upon my day, my fleece PJs and my surges and flashes. Life is good.

Three Quarters of a Century

2012-01-05T21:19:00.000-05:00

Your eyes are still the colour of a moody sky; your blonde hair is natural (and you still have hair!) with only traces of white when your sideburns get long; you still walk tall, and only when you are incredibly overtired do I see a hint of your true age.

Age is an important number - not to remind us how much time we have left, but as a marker of the number of years lived, and I have never met anyone who has crammed as much living into their days/months/years as you.

I remember helping you with your resume post retirement, and after adding up all of the years of experience in the various posts you held, it looked like you were 102!

I have many reasons to be proud of you -- too many to list here. However I think I have told you before that I am most proud of the ways in which you continue to evolve. You are proof of someone who is getting better with each passing year. You live up to your notion of a life long learner and are interested in the world around you. Better than that -- you are continuously excited by the life around you, and express it.

This milestone birthday is especially poignant, not only because you are 75, but because this year you set your sights on, and pursued better health. In the process you earned back some quality years.

So today on your 75th birthday I want to thank you for more than half a century of hugs, unconditional love, and for challenging me to be all that I am meant to be. Thanks for your stories, debates and for sharing yourself freely and leaving nothing unsaid. Lastly, thank you for being here.

And for that I am supremely grateful.

Wordless Wednesday: Smile

2012-01-04T20:35:00.002-05:00

Small Blessings

2012-01-03T23:17:00.002-05:00

I started this blog to attune myself to the blessings in my life and seek the gifts in adversity, and in the world around me. In the process I found myself becoming more observant and aware as I went through my day - living more presently and vividly. I tried to ingrain a habit of gratitude and intention of giving in myself - and I think my efforts are paying off.

I have much to be grateful for, however sometimes it is as simple as a bowl of hot stew at the end of a bitter cold winter's day, prepared by someone you love shared around a table of family. Such was my evening. So tonight before I slumber, my belly and heart are full and I am warm both inside and out - and for that I am very grateful.

Christmas Dismantled

2012-01-02T22:32:00.001-05:00

After a green Christmas, winter arrived with a vengeance. Last night the howling of the wind and the rhythmic tapping of tree branches on the roof lulled me to sleep. I awoke to a gray, dismal, cold winter's day - only a dusting of snow but bitter winds. What a perfect day to hibernate and dismantle Christmas. Undecorating is my least favourite thing to do, however my favourite music coming from my new Christmas Zune made it slightly more enjoyable.

Hubby and I bundled up and took Fritz for a walk ...

The last few ornaments were packed up and the tree went away for another year. As I tucked away the last piece of garland and folded the corner of the box to seal it, I whispered silently, until next year. When next they are unpacked, how will our world have changed?

And We're Off!

2012-01-01T23:53:00.003-05:00

I am out of the gate and running; 2012 is officially off to a very promising start. New Year's Eve was a family event of course with both sets of parents coming over for ~~meat~~ dinner. Doris and daughter rounded out our table of eight - it felt like a big fat present! I can never get enough of family time.

I expected to spend the first day of the new year in quiet reflection and contemplation. The universe had other ideas, with a day of random, unplanned visits and connections.

It was a carry-over from yesterday's numerous phone calls to catch up with loved ones. My friend Shirley called to announce she was a new grandmother and we shared a moment reveling in this exciting new chapter of her life. Her grandson was the first baby born in his community and is getting all the goodies and attention that goes with it.

Then Jilly called to ask if she could swing by for a visit. I could feel the effort she was making to the promise we made to to spend more time together. We sat at opposite ends of the couch, Fritz flopped in her lap, catching up, laughing, enjoying the ease of our friendship. Another blessing!

The day rounded out with a call from my far away Cuz. Far away Cuz is a special gift ... although we are first cousins, we never met one another until just a few years ago. How wonderful to discover a kindred spirit who is just months older than me, who named her daughter the same as Kidlet, and who shares a similar philosophy to life! We definitely feel the family connection and have lots to chat about. After about three and a half hours had passed and we were saying our goodbyes, the reality of the phone bill she will get sunk in. Yikes! We agreed that when life is bristly and the day a little difficult, the best way to pull yourself up is to make a gratitude list. So Cuz, today, on this very sparkly, shining first day of 2012, I am grateful for your far-away kinship and for having you in my life. I am also grateful for more loving hearts than I have chairs at my table; the abundance in my life; and for this blog through which I tell myself that which I most need to learn whispering into my own ear ...

If I had to pick one word to sum up 2011 for me, it would be giving. This year I will try to make it be connections. The year has definitely started off on the right foot. Happy new year everyone.

Writing Frenzy

2011-12-30T21:29:00.001-05:00

With a little time off I have turned my attention to the stack of documents that I have consolidated into what is to eventually be my Dad's book. For almost twenty years he has been chomping on the bite to put his life's experiences on paper. With several starts and stops, and in between posting daily to his blog, he churned out more than 150 pages of memoirs.

He asked for my help in crafting them into a cohesive story. I was more than flattered - I was honoured. That being said, now that the work is well underway I admit I am daunted, intimidated, and feeling somewhat incapable and unworthy of the task. I want to rise to the challenge and help my dad express all that he wishes and leave his footprints in the snow.

He is an incredible man with an interesting, inspiring story. I am learning more about him than I ever thought possible and I can't wait for it all to be shared with our family. And so we will press on and I will revel in my front row seat to a real showstopper. Stay tuned.

Blogging and Birthday Milestones

2011-12-28T23:49:00.001-05:00

Today is a day of milestones. How fitting that my 800th blog post land on the birthday of my beloved ~~mother-in-law~~ MIH. I always say that she was the bonus when I married my husband. So today, on her birthday I want to celebrate her life in the best way I know how.

You are a firecracker loaded with infinite energy, determination and good intentions. You love your family - especially your kids and mom - as fiercely as a mama bear protects her cubs.
For you the glass is always half full; attitude towards life is yours to choose - even though the circumstances may not be; and answers and solutions must be pursued relentlessly. You never say never and you never give up.
You choose light over darkness and spend much of your waking hours spreading the light to everyone you meet. You work hard at being happy and creating moments of happy for others. You delight in delighting. You are generous in all ways possible - materially, spiritually and emotionally. Your inner child is intact and ever-present and you wear it like a cloak of youth. You favour over-the-top, wacky, joyful and full technicolor over the mundane. You are most comfortable in towering heels and you love bling, sparkle and shine. And maybe that is how I can best describe you. Because my dear MIH, you light up my life with your pizzazz, devotion and most importantly, your love and unconditional support. You are someone who deserves to be surprised, delighted and loved.

So today on your special day, I celebrate the woman you are and the blessing you are in my life. In you I have found a soul sister.

Triple Threat - No Regrets!

2011-12-27T23:58:00.001-05:00

Fritz and I are chillin on the couch with the nightly news blaring on the TV, marveling over the light dusting of snow we finally received and pondering the Christmas flurry that was, and is past.

The unofficial verdict is that this Christmas was one of the best. Two of my three girls joined my hubby and I for our Christmas Eve with his parents and sister. MIH had the house awash in bright lights and silver sparkle. She worked her magic and created a magical Noel cocoon. Hubby's family is much smaller than mine so the experience is enjoyably different and I was going to say "quieter" but then I remembered that Kidlet was there. MIH spoils everyone rotten and my father-in-law prepares a feast for us -- keeping mainly to the kitchen, appearing now and then to refill our wine glasses or offer a preview of something on the end of a fork. It is always delicious. This evening is our traditional kick off to the Christmas season.

I have vivid memories from my childhood Christmas' and most of them involve having aunts, uncles and cousins around. Our house used to reverberate with the sounds of fun that came with having family together in our home. I've tried to duplicate this experience and tradition with my own kids, and although we don't have any little ones in our family right now, our coming together is still the highlight of the season. My sister and her family made the 5 hour trek and nieces, nephews, sibs, kids and family elders congregated to share Christmas morning ... just as we've done for my whole entire life. I think that equates to more than half a century! The affection is undeniable; there is no obligation here -- we truly love being in one another's company. We like it so much that we come together for a second round at dinner. This is when Hubby says "I love you" with a meticulously prepared feast.

This year was extra-special with my dad, true to this word and plan, not only making it to our Christmas events after only 4 weeks since his spinal surgery, but managing it all without the use of a walker or cane (swinging his cane only as he jauntily walked to and from his car).

For a few brief days the house was packed with daughters, boyfriends, fiancees, and dogs! The table was covered with copious amounts of sugar and starch and the house was alive. It made me feel the same.

Who are we kidding; Christmas is a season to be carefully created **sexist and gross generalization alert** mostly by the women in the family. Yup Virginia -- there is a Mrs Claus who organizes Santa and probably does the shopping and wrapping for him. Just a hunch.

So tonight marked the season closer with the open house at my MIH's for hubby's larger, extended family. It was supposed to be a three hour deal that turned into a 5 hour event after the family decided they really enjoyed chatting with one another. After the ~~tidy up~~ "pile up" (MIH sent us home with twice as much sugar than we brought) and the drive home in the first snow of the season YAY! it was after 10 pm when we got home.

It's been a long but good day. Christmas has been a blessed holiday with so much to reflect upon and to be grateful for; so very much.

The Gift

2011-12-26T23:06:00.001-05:00

Christmas had a special meaning this year. It marked the end of a long wait for my dad's return to health and relief from pain. So although I was thoroughly spoiled by my loved ones and our day was filled with abundance, there was one special gift ... he promised us, and he delivered.

Walk on Pops!

Bake Off

2011-12-21T22:46:00.000-05:00

I took a Betty Crocker moment for myself and decided to squeeze in some last minute Christmas baking. If there was a prize for good intention then I would get the BIG one; but unfortunately the end products wouldn't earn more than a "completed" grade. It was all half baked .... I had to use the last remnants of the cake flour mixed with some whole wheat (didn't find the 5 pound bag of all purpose flour in the storeroom until AFTER I finished baking); the shortening shortfall had to be supplemented with butter; the rock hard sugar had to be pounded back into granules and I only had two thirds of the molasses I needed.

The result of my valiant efforts: 16 cranberry/currant scones, 2 dozen ginger cookies that you could break a tooth on and one big flour dusted, molasses mired, sticky mess to clean up! Hubby has directed me not to toss my cookies as he plans to eat them,

The upside: the house is filled with the heavenly scent of ginger, cloves and cinnamon -- and it almost completely masks the residual skunk odour. Now the happy baker is off to bed.

Divorce

2011-12-20T16:30:00.000-05:00

d i v o r c e. It was something spelled out in an old country tune by Tammy Wynette. It was a subject whispered about in hushed tones between grown ups, and something I only heard about, but didn't know about close up. That is - until I brought divorce to our family.

It was a foreign concept to me. I had been raised by two parents who were passionate about one another. They argued hard, and they loved harder. No matter what was going on in our family or between them, there was never any question that they were a couple; a team. My dad was never one for public displays of affection but in our home they were all hands on deck. They hugged, snuggled, squeezed and my father often watched tv with his head in my mother's lap. Their old double bed sagged in the middle from where they slept in one another's arms. I wanted that unconditional, stand by you, you're the only one for me, you rock my world kind of marriage.

I could go on in great lengths about the turmoil and pain I went through arriving at the decision to finally end my marriage(s). No doubt it was difficult, just as it was in telling my parents and close friends. But I would be deceiving myself if I didn't admit that the greatest pain of all was that which I caused my children. My choices turned their world upside down and disrupted the security and harmony that I had worked so hard to create in our home.

There is no making it up to them. What is done - is done. However I made it my mission to create a new kind of security for them; the comfort and stability that comes from knowing that you come from unconditional, omnipresent love that will never die. I am proud that their fathers and I made a conscious effort to be, and continue to be, solid, unwavering parents to them.

Here is the single most important key to creating a loving, extended tribe:
Our love for our kids is greater than any other abiding emotion we may have. Bigger than our anger, resentment, jealousy, or any other residual toxins that can remain from a broken relationship.

And so be it. I hope I have taught my girls that we are singularly responsible for the life we create for ourselves; but also that our lives intersect with many and they too deserve consideration and empathy.

Too Quiet for Comfort

2011-12-19T22:30:00.000-05:00

The empty nest is quiet... and empty. The house is quieter than it should be and if I listen very closely, I can hear vibrations from yesteryear coming from the walls. I miss tripping over the pile of shoes, boots and backpacks at the front door; and finding most of the kitchen chairs cloaked in unhung coats and sweaters. I miss running the 24 hour laundromat and folding copious piles of laundry every night in front of the television. I miss reaching for the milk jug only to find it empty and making a sandwich with the last two crusts left in the loaf.

Now the same bag of milk lasts for weeks and the bread doesn't get eaten fast enough to stay fresh. There is no one to blame the clutter on, and no one to yell at except the dog.

Thankfully it is almost Christmas and soon the house will once again reverberate with the giggles, bickerings and singing of my girls. Soon the shoes will be piled high at the door and the foyer will be cluttered with bags and backpacks ... and dogs! Soon I will have something to complain about .... but I won't. Because if I have learned anything, it is that there is nothing like a houseful of loved ones to generate love and lasting memories.

Come on home girls. Mama misses you.

Wrap 'n Roll

2011-12-18T12:39:00.002-05:00

I stayed up last night until all of the merchandise in retail bags had been converted to Christmas presents. It was a long haul but easier with my DIY gift bags and determination not to use any wrap that is not sustainable; it must be reclaimed, reused or hand made from recycled materials around the house. That goes for the tags as well. I have not had to buy any wrapping materials (except tea towels) for five years now and my new approach is not only good for the environment, it is good for my soul. I cast off the chains of "perfection" for made with love. It is a challenge every year, and now it has become one of the most enjoyable Christmas preps I make. Thought I would share some of my tips ... keeping in mind that I am no Martha Stewart nor am I artistic. But I do have a good imagination!

Tools of the trade

Save everything! Then store for next year.
I have found the the zippered plastic bags that bedding comes in make excellent storage for gift bags, ribbons, bows and flattened cardboard boxes. Keep traces of ribbon, and used wrapping paper.

Wrap it up
Last year I bought big bundles of cheap but colourful tea towels and used them as wrapping paper, with tiny safety pins taking the place of tape. I even threaded the odd button onto the safety pin before securing it. This year I bought three bundles and sewed them into gift bags. I secured the gathered top of the bag with an elastic and wrapped cloth ribbons around it. I also used yarn and shoelaces.

If you don't want to use tea towels, reclaim old t-shirts, flannel PJs and pant legs of old clothes. My daughter pointed out that a pant pocket fits a CD perfectly. Hand sew if necessary.

I noticed that some of the plastic retail bags were richly decorated in shades of red so I cut them open and used them for wrapping paper. I had a calender to wrap (a tradition with our cousin) and noticed it came in a clear plastic sleeve. I took out and wrapped some reclaimed gold tissue paper around it and slid it back into the sleeve. I used a Sharpie to label it directly onto the plastic.

Jars make neat containers as well. Just wrap the contents in fabric and screw on the lid. You can cover the lid with piece of fabric and then secure it with an elastic and ribbon.

Reuse cardboard boxes (shoe boxes, shipping etc), using colourful duct tape or green painter's tape to cover any labels or print on the boxes. Another trick is to spray pieces of fabric (old sheets, shirts and t-shirts count as fabric!) with adhesive and cover those big box store gift boxes. The fabric extends the life of the cardboard so that the box can be reused for years to come.

Label it.

I cut little shapes out of cardboard, plastic bags and old Christmas cards and decorate with Sharpies. I use pins to secure the labels to the fabric bags and tape to glass jars. I puncture holes in the tags and then thread the ribbon or yarn through to affix the tag.

Decorate it.
Use old beads and buttons to thread or sew onto the cloth bags. Old pins and brooches make attractive adornments on the rustic bags.

Must haves
Safety pins, duct tape (colourful), green painter's tape, a collection of Sharpie markers, raffia, yarn, adhesive tape, scissors, spray fabric glue, and glue stick.

The best part is the fun it is to use your imagination and stuff on hand. ENJOY!

Plastic bag as wrapping paper

Tea Towel bag

Wrapped in tissue and slipped into a plastic sleeve.

Finished product

Painters' tape

Give a Little to Help Those Affected by HIV/AIDS

2011-12-17T10:15:00.000-05:00

Image courtesy of www.orphanbracelet.org

My last few Give a Little donations have been to organizations dedicated to turning the tide of HIV/AIDS in Africa and supporting the victims left in the wake of this horrific pandemic.

Orphan Bracelet Campaign sales help mothers and children in South Africa whose lives have been severely impacted by HIV/AIDS. The bracelet making program provides HIV/AIDS affected women with a living wage and the skills to become self-sustaining pillars of their communities. This is my favourite kind of giving -- to support causes that help people lift themselves up, and live the kind of life they deserve. And it is as simple as buying a $15 bracelet.

In keeping with the theme of grassroots movements, I donated to another important effort to help fight AIDS. When I read about 54 year old Nola Reynolds' DARE for the Stephen Lewis Foundation to support grassroots efforts to turn the tide of HIV/AIDS, I had to give a little support. She is shaking off fear and misgivings and donning her courage suit to bike from Cairo to Capetown over the next four months to raise awareness of and funds for the AIDS pandemic. Stephen Lewis is one of my heroes so naturally anyone throwing their efforts behind his quest to improved the lives of millions of African women and children, deserves my support. I am going to follow Nola's progress on her blog.

I just gave a little, but as Wendy Smith writes in her inspiring book, Give a Little, if many give a little to many, collectively it will make a big difference to many organizations. And by little, I mean every dollar counts. T'is the giving season.

Read about my weekly Give a Little Challenge and other posts.

Traditions of Love

2011-12-16T22:44:00.000-05:00

The holiday season for me and my family is Christmas - or as my semi Jew-ish daughters like to call it - chrismukkah. The Popsicle stick Star of Davids that adorn the tree - a subtle reminder of our diverse family.

Something that me and my girls share is the love of our traditions that have been lovingly established over the years. We are staunch keepers of the "traditions" and there is little wiggle room for change. Suggest that the rustic garland made of cereal (an art project from yesteryear) not be put on the tree and you risk mutiny and a chorus of jeers and protests. We are however open to starting new traditions ...

And that is what I did. In these times of excess and commercialism, I wanted to give an experiential gift to the women in my life who guide, support and love me. Thus the annual Christmas Tea for the Ladies in My Life was born. Today we celebrated our second such gathering. The rustic high beamed inn was decked out in full seasonal finery, complete with roaring fire in the over-sized fireplace, garlands dripping with ornaments and a tree that was so bedazzling I was hunting for my shades. Not even the ~~hot flash~~ power surges that were plaguing me could compete with the warmth that I felt sitting with these lovely ladies all around me. How lucky am I?

Truth be told, the sandwiches were a little dehydrated, and the whole food part seemed much like an afterthought. However these minor disappointments weren't enough to dampen my spirit - nor the ladies'. For a few hours we came together to catch up, laugh together and share stories. It is my gift to them -- but mostly a gift I give myself. I love these women and I don't think I can express it enough to them.

Our tradition of love has started strongly, and I can only hope that it will be one that we honour for years to come. Counting my blessings this season of peace and love...

The ladies in my life - 40's, 50's, 60's, and 90's

Wonderful Life

2011-12-14T22:55:00.001-05:00

That glossy film is my Christmas Spirit. Negativity is deflecting off my crystal shield; nothing but light is getting through. I can't stop singing those corny Christmas tunes -- not even at the office. my poor cubemates It's a magical time, if we let it be. I live in a cocoon of love and I am trying to make like a butterfly to spread the joy.

After I left my dad's visit I was overcome with gratitude. It's hard to watch him be vulnerable -- and only because this territory he is navigating is foreign to him; and it shows. But to see his unwavering determination is inspiring and reminds me of the great space he occupies in my life. My heart is full and I am grateful to have him with us.

T'is a season of joy and giving ... and I want to sing it from the rooftops ... it's a wonderful life.

Retirement and Reunions

2011-12-12T23:28:00.000-05:00

Tonight was a reunion of sorts as my former cable TV colleagues came together to celebrate the retirement of one of our own. The building had bloated to four times the size it was when I worked there 18 years ago (kinda like me). It was odd returning to a building in which I spent so many years growing into my professional self, only to feel out of place. Lucky for me, the whole (mostly female) management team from my era were there to help our friend close out a chapter and usher her onto the next. We squealed happily (our male colleague grunting) wrapping our arms around one another, telling each other that we hadn't changed a bit and excitedly catching up on our lives.

I had the unique privilege to work so many years ago on a management team consisting of 5 women and 2 men - unheard of at that time in the male dominated ~~pole climbers~~ cable TV industry. There was a spirit of cooperation and support as we helped one another become successful in meeting our goals. We disagreed and debated but at the end of the day it was a safe environment and we were there for one another, with our relationships rooted in friendship. Even more importantly - we had FUN while getting it done.

Our general manager at the time (who has since passed on) told us to look around and remember - because the exceptional, magical dream team experience would never be duplicated. And it wasn't.

There were dignitaries, former and current olleagues, family members, friends and event the corporate big wigs who had flown in for the event. The cafeteria had been transformed in to an elegant lounge complete with live entertainment, candles, a bar, a delicious spread and a stage with a ginormous screen shot of our friend. There were slick posters with photo essays of her illustrious, colourful career. And then she sat in a comfy chair on the stage as a parade of her past and present estolled their good wishes upon her. I couldn't help but blurt out that this was exactly like a living eulogy -- a funeral before the death. And it made me happy that she got to hear the wonderful things people think about her and how she impacted them. Most of us never will for we live in a society that hangs onto our great speeches until they will not be heard by the one who would enjoy them the most. Maybe we need to rethink that and create such opportunities to share "in life".
It's been a good night. It was rich in memory excavation, reconnection, reunions and a reminder of the exceptional companions I have had along the way on this incredible journey that is my life. And for that I am truly grateful.

And Sew It Is

2011-12-11T23:12:00.001-05:00

I think my mall crawling days are almost over. ~silent scream of joy~ I am 98% bought and true to my to-do list, I dusted off the sewing machine and converted some colourful tea towels into a tidy pile of gift bags.

Next on my list, I am turning my attention to giving where it will really count. As I whipped out my credit card for gift after gift, it was impossible not to think about those who are just struggling to feed their families and provide the basic necessities of life. Who are we kidding ... our ideas of "basics" are so beyond food and shelter - in fact it probably includes some form of electronic communication. If I can so quickly produce my credit card to purchase my wants, I can surely do the same to help someone with their basic needs. And you know something, that satisfying feeling that goes along with the giving is the gift I give myself.

The abundance and love that I have in my life is partly due to the geography lottery. I won big time. Just how did I get so lucky?

So know the sewing machine will be loving tucked back into its vinyl sleeve for another five years until I get a hankering to flaunt my inner domestic goddess. It's been another good day - and for that I am truly grateful.

Signals

2011-12-10T22:35:00.001-05:00

The Christmas cactus doesn't lie! The lush fuchsia blooms signal the arrival of the festive season and my ginormous cactus is loaded with them, that is until Fritz gets snacking.

I mall hopped for the entire day and returned home loaded down with 85% of my shopping complete; a far more successful attempt than last Saturday's shopping horror. I am officially defunked and swaddled in Christmas spirit not a Scrooge in sight.

My next task will be to sew those nifty tea towels I bought into green gift bags; there will be no mountain of wasteful paper gift wrap at my place! I haven't bought wrapping paper in four years now and the challenge of finding creative ways to wrap is half the fun; needless to say I have found new uses for safety pins and produce bags.

It is shaping up to be another memorable holiday season with lots of reunions, famjams, dinners, teas, and of course, holiday sweaters. : ) The pieces are all in place - I have people to love who love me back, my father is on the mend and I live in abundance. Except in the sleep department, which is why I am off to bed ...

Well With My World

2011-12-09T22:31:00.001-05:00

Today was all about getting inside stuff done. It was my day off and my car is still in the shop so it was a guilt-free day of puttering. I had lots of online shopping and laundry to do so I got a head start on the weekend. Fritz and I sang Christmas songs with wild abandon; I stayed in my hubby's t-shirt and sweat pants until 3 pm and nothing could dampen my spirit -- not even the call from the car dealership about the cost of my "leak" repair. My hair was a little wild and my face scrubbed 51 - and I momentarily worried that I would look like h@ll if Distributors Clearinghouse showed up to award me a big prize or something. It was only a fleeting thought.

Life is good. My dad was sprung from the hospital today after two full weeks. When I spoke to him tonight it was evident that home will take some adjustment and he will have to make a conscious effort to rest. A little shaky but happy sounding, his voice was music to my ears.

Tomorrow I tackle the mall yet again and hopefully I will find treasures to buy for my loved ones (with love in my heart) and put a wrap on the gift end of Christmas. Next step: I will be dusting off my rolling pin and greasing up my cookie cutters. mmmm the best of Christmas is yet to come.

So happy me will sleep soundly tonight -- cause all is well with my world tonight.

Sleepless and Surging

2011-12-07T22:54:00.001-05:00

My eyes popped open and the fuzzy numbers on my clock radio told me it was

2:10 AM: I took a groggy trip to the water closet and tried to maintain the sleepiness. It was not to be; visions of my work day danced in my head. I spelled out agendas, and planned my day. I closed my eyes tightly and tried to clear my head.

2:18 AM: Power surge. Kicked covers off.

2:35 AM: Freezing. Dog had the covers.

2:55 AM: Dog's snoring and random circling and plopping yet another distraction. I focused on slowing my breathing and ended up replaying the hospital visit I had with my dad. He's ready to come home.

3:05 AM: Another power surge. Covers off.

3:20 AM: Yikes!

3:29 AM: In search of covers ... cuddled the dog for heat.

4:04 AM: My mind continued to spin. I felt bad for some cranky behaviour and prayed for forgiveness. Then I prayed for sleep ... and switched to positive affirmations ... I accept peace and tranquility and sleep and then reverted to begging ... pleeeze!

4:25 AM: Cr@p. Almost time to get up. Mentally reviewed my closet ... what to wear?

4:35 AM: One more run through of the agenda for my morning meeting.

5:40 AM: Eyes popped open and the fuzzy numbers on my clock radio told me it was time to get up.

Needless to say, it was a very l o n g day. Long, but very well planned out!

Memories of Christmas' Past

2011-12-06T22:45:00.001-05:00

The moment we start putting up the tree, little snippets of memories from all Christmas' past are triggered. Some are mildly tragic -- most are pretty great. I thought I would share some of my favourites ....

School Christmas Concerts

The Christmas Concert was always a highlight at school as we harboured our high hopes of landing a good role. Personally I wanted to be Joseph ... I was thrilled the year I landed the part of the lead angel but I underestimated how long I was going to have to hold my arms up high. As the minutes ticked slowly by and my arms dropped lower, with intermittent motions from my teacher to lift them, my halo tilted and my wings wilted until finally - in the loudest voice possible, I proudly belted out my very rehearsed lines:

Fear not, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. * Bows deeply and big smile while scanning the audience for parents *

Rituals
On Christmas Eve my sibs and I would sleep together in one bed - two at the top and two at the bottom - to feed the festive fever and convince one another that we heard Santa or reindeer on the roof. I was 19 the last time we did this which may be illegal today. Oh, and my 51 year old "holey" Christmas stocking still hangs on the mantle.

Favourite present
One of the best gifts ever was one that I didn't get. Apparently Santa didn't have room on his sleigh that year so Christmas morning I opened a lovely music book and guitar tuner. I was happy enough with that I play a mean tuner so when my mom pointed out the special note with my name on it that explained that a guitar would arrive ~~as soon as Sears restocked~~ in a week or two, I was over the moon. It was well worth the wait.

Near tragedy
As I walked slowly down the church aisle during the Christmas Eve candlelight service with the rest of the choir, my eyes darted back and forth in search of my mom and grandma. I inadvertently lit my sheet music ablaze with my candle. No worries -- we got the fire out with no fatalities -- but it put a damper on things. And yes I was in the choir -- apparently being able to hold a tune wasn't a prerequisite.

Favourite Christmas song: I'll be home for Christmas cause really, is there anywhere else to be??

Favourite Christmas movie: A Christmas Story nothing like Chinese food at Christmas

Least favourite movie: How the Grinch Stole Christmas not a fan of green villains

Highlight: Best part of Christmas - hands down - was that my grandma and aunt would sleep overnight so they could wake up with us in the morning. We had a "the more the merrier" spirit in our house and our home was packed to the rafters with relatives and friends during the holidays. And not once can I recall hearing the word "stress". Maybe the secret was in the eggnog. : )

Do you have a favourite ritual or memory?

Power Surge

2011-12-04T20:11:00.001-05:00

I didn't want to become someone who whines about growing older and bemoans the horrors of menopause. I've accepted the fact that changes are inevitable and chosen to embrace each and every affliction with grace and dignity. But can I tell you "oh what fun it is" to Christmas shop in an indoor mall with "power surges" spiking randomly? Unzip goes the coat as I frantically tear away every piece of clothing that is legally permissible. I reluctantly stop at my skin but that would do too if I could swing it!

Man alive! It makes excursions tricky. Flaming face, hot body (not the cool hot), and a bunch of other stuff that no one tells you about. But I am counting on this as a temporary state of being, and banking on the "pause" part of menopause. Until then -- I'm going to harness my inner power surges and let them fuel my passion for life. Onward and upwards!

Merry Men-0h-pause!

Christmas Change Up

2011-12-04T08:42:00.001-05:00

Bogged down by the weight of
expectation
to give
what is not needed
nor for which there is
space.
Spending money we
don't have.
Excess is riddling holes
in my Christmas spirit;
noise of consumerism is
drowning out the
peace and magic of
Christmas as I remember
and still desire.

Christmas of old was
family time
singalongs
hard Christmas candy
excitement, and
wonderment.
Gifts were what you wanted to give
No gift cards, cash, gift receipts.
You smiled and said thank you.
Simple and thoughtful
have given way to
expensive
disposable
electronics.
A single gift is not
enough.
It has to look like more.

When did it get so complicated?
I yearn to hear
silent nights
feel peace and joy
see people smiling as they
move around the
Christmas season.
I wish I could
replace
time in the mall with time
baking love into
season's treats
hand writing notes and
sharing time with loved ones.

Bogged down by the fatigue of
too little time
to do it all in
four weeks.
Pressure is riddling holes
in my Christmas spirit.
I've outgrown
this version of
Christmas.
Something has to give.

I vote for
making the gifts
we give be
time together
love exchanged and
expressed.
My version of
Christmas has
time not pressure;
relaxation not fatigue;
peace not stress; and
memory making
wonderment.

A change is going to come.

PS The tree is up and I think I saw Christmas past hiding underneath it!

I Hear a Whirlwind

2011-12-02T22:56:00.001-05:00

Holy cow! I blinked and it's December. That means I have to find a phone booth so I can morph into Mrs Claus - the super hero behind all things Christmas. The whirlwind starts tomorrow. It would start immediately but I am procrastinator. I will clean so I can decorate. I will shop so I can wrap. I will wrap so the tree won't look pathetic. All this, the whole while listening to my cheesy collection of Christmas music. I predict Hubby will assign himself to the outdoor lights. But I warned him that he has to hang some ornaments -- it's tradition. Plus I refuse to hang Princess Leia and the rest of his super hero figurines.

So that whirring sound that is getting louder is the whirlwind of Christmas that just rolled into town. Take cover!

Rain, Water and Ice

2011-11-30T23:37:00.001-05:00

The rainy, dismal of November is coming to an end. The rains have been torrential; the winds have been relentless. Driving has been a treat. Not. To top it off, I have a pond in my car. Yup. I'm not kidding. I opened the back door of my car to throw my ~~suitcase~~ bag in and there it was -- 2 inches of water on the floor. It was a swamp -- no -- a pond. The only thing missing were the ducks!

I guess I should've guessed something was up; after a rain when I turned a corner sharply, water would pour out of my overhead light. It isn't easy driving with one hand on the wheel and the other with tissues pressed against the light to catch the drip. Some seal must be gone on my car and I am guessing it has something to do with my sun roof (which should really be called a rain roof). Someday soon I'll get it into the dealership for a fix, hopefully before I have a skating rink on my hands.

Welcome December. I am holding you to a higher standard, so you better deliver. : )

Love Lives On

2011-11-29T22:55:00.001-05:00

You were close by today; I could hear your voice telling me to slow down and drive carefully in the rain; and memories of you and your laughter wove in and around moments in my day. It was after all, the anniversary of your birth. I try to conjure a picture of you at 72, but that won't be necessary. You were spared any ravages of aging and your spirit is forever young. I still miss you as much as I did that night when you left us. But my longing for you is a strange brew of comfort; the little space of empty - a reminder of the exceptional mother who used to fill it.

Happy birthday Mom. Your love lives on.

A Step Up

2011-11-28T23:18:00.001-05:00

What a difference a day makes! Yesterday when I went to visit my Dad pain was like a cling-on pal who couldn't take hint. Pain was his bedfellow and it was evident in his restlessness, in the creases lining his face and most of all his eyes. He put up a good front but he was clearly agitated. I felt a little downhearted when I left him meditating the pain away.

But today it is a whole different story. Mama T tipped me off that he was in a better space with the pain under control and being up and around a little more. I popped in after work to see it for myself and I am glad I did. He was beaming, sitting up in his bed (30 degrees) having just polished off a delicious (yup - his words) chicken dinner. I scanned the tray and it was seriously licked clean! He chatted happily with Mama T by his bedside and boasted about the fact that he had gone 5 hours without pain meds. He actually did some stairs today and had lots of walking in. Mama T and I think he looks taller ... they say this operation can do that to a person (take note all you shorties out there).

Best of all (thankfully) he finally had a shower!

His talk is all about his recovery and his plans to make it as speedy and successful as possible. When I kissed his stubbly cheek (he hasn't shaved) and walked away, I couldn't help but marvel at his progress and fortitude, and what a difference a day can make.

Forever Friends at Fifty

2011-11-27T23:55:00.001-05:00

Look how big our smiles are ... I am smiling because my body shaping undergarments are cutting off the circulation to my heart and Jill is smiling because she is younger than me and doesn't need foundation garments!

Today is her 50th birthday - an achievement in which she lagged behind me. There aren't many things I do better than her: I squeaked out one more daughter - and a few more husbands; my bra size is definitely bigger; I have more sibs; and I talk a whole lot faster - and more!

But the thing is, we were destined to be friends. Aside from the shared taste in fashion (we basically mirrored one another's wardrobe, starting with our matching pantsuits and boy's survival jackets), we had the coolest Moms around (who we lost a year apart), we love to write, we have solid social consciouses, and she is a good listener and I am - well you know ...

We are there for one another, rescuing when necessary and at other times, celebrating the joys and milestones of more than 40 years of friendship. Our bond has never been based on activities or defined by time. Instead we have an omnipresent peace and confidence that goes with knowing that we have that one special person who has our history; with whom we've shared the navigation from childhood to womanhood to motherhood - and beyond. We are soul sisters assigned to accompany one another on this fantastical journey that is our life.

When we were little girls we talked about being old together and guess what? We are!

Happy birthday to my forever friend Jill.

Weekend Wrap Up

2011-11-27T22:39:00.001-05:00

Visit with my dad was brief this afternoon. He hasn't slept alot since his procedure and they had him on a tour of the facility today in his modest, open backed hospital issued gown for a plethora of tests: ultrasounds, x-rays, scans, blood work and the list goes on. He was spent by the time he got back to his room but managed to organize us and his space for optimal comfort. We adjusted the TV, applied cold cloths, tried to slide his onto his side, exercised his leg, and arranged his water, eyeglasses, tissue, earphones within his easy reach. He has this hospital thing down pat. But we could see the weariness in his eyes from physical exertion, pain and little sleep, and kept our visit short.

Give a Little: I discovered a giving circle that awards $5000 grants to nonprofits working to make the world fair for girls. In the give a little spirit, I donated $5 to 5 for Fairness. Love this concept of accumulating and then dispersing critical amounts to organizations that the members of the circle vote on.

We wrapped up a busy day with family time with hubby's parents: roast beef dinner (compliments of Papa Pete) in a silvery, sparkly Christmas wonderland compliments of MIH.

The tree was up, candles flickered and the Christmas cactus showed off tiny pink buds that will burst into a mighty shade of pink by Christmas. I wrestled Mr Tibbs the Shar Pei to the ground and he retaliated by putting my whole arm in his mouth for a mock chomp. Papa Pete served up his pot roast on platters -- each of us got our own platter -- followed by lemon cake. Comfort food!

Relaxing back on the couch admiring the sparkle, I could feel the stirrings of Christmas excitement. I think this year the best present I could get would be to see my Pops home safe and sound enjoying new found pain relief and possibilities.

So all in all, it's been an eventful weekend and tonight I am signing off with peace and hope in my heart and prayers for Dad and T for the challenges they will face in the coming weeks.

Thankful.

Platter full of comfort

Nosy Mr Tibbs

MIH and Papa Pete

Walking Tall

2011-11-25T21:42:00.001-05:00

When we stepped off the elevator first thing this morning, there he was ... leaning heavily on a very tall walker, tentatively shuffling along in his flimsy hospital gown and running shoes. Vertical 16 hours after surgery. Standing tall, sitting pretty and clutching the button for his morphine pump, his eyes showed the breadth and depth of his pain. But he swears that it is exactly what he expected.

He is a model patient; no complaints; just grit and determination. His roommate is also a retired teacher so there is no lapse in conversation between them, although I could see weariness setting in with the excessive chatter. His first day post op was a busy one with a plethora of medical therapies, mini milestones, visitors, pains and gains. Most importantly, he finally got his hair brushed and spruced up.

It is not easy to watch someone you love suffer. It is painful to witness vulnerability in one who is steadfast, solid, the rock of the family. But it is absolutely heartwarming to see hope and possibility abound once again and to envision him dancing at my daughter's wedding.

The road in front of him will get easier with each passing day and it won't be long before he is walking tall once again.

So Thankful

2011-11-25T00:26:00.001-05:00

It's been a long day of angst, reflection, anticipation and Tim Hortons coffee. The third time's the charm. My dad finally got his spinal surgery after two bouts of medical mishaps and confusion, and unlike the first time, we made no auto assumption of success. We knew the murky waters he would navigate. And true to his super hero self, after four hours in the operating room and two in recovery, he was smiling and chatting happily as they wheeled him out of post op to his room on the ward. The staff remarked about how awake he was for someone who just came out of surgery. When the surgeon came to fill us in on how the procedure went, we asked him if our dad was awake. He smiled, nodded and said "oh ya ... he's awake -- and talking". A really good sign!

And talking he is. Sure, we know it's the morphine helping him along, but his thinking and recollection are crystal clear. He is not foggy, groggy or soggy. Wait -- I can't vouch for the third thing. They asked him if he wanted his water with or without ice. I asked him if he wanted it shaken or stirred. He smiled and said he would like rye and water.

All I know is that I can barely describe the jubilation I felt when I saw his bed being wheeled out of the recovery room, and got a glimpse of his tired but smiling face. It is fitting that on the American Thanksgiving Day, I would be filled with more gratitude, faith and love than I could ever have imagined. It has been a good day. And for that, I am truly grateful.

Take Three

2011-11-21T20:57:00.001-05:00

I go about my day, survive my commute, drop in on my Dad, but there's background noise. In a couple of days he's going in for the second try (third if we count the aborted procedure) at his spinal surgery. After the last bout of nail biting, gut wrenching drama and trauma, he is facing this procedure more prepared than ever. He has had the tests. He's met with the specialists and understands the plan. He's practiced rolling out of bed and his walker is oiled and ready for deployment. Heck, he even has his new Christmas tree up.

I would be lying if I didn't admit there are some nerves bantering about like free radicals. However in another part of me resides steadfast calm and confidence in a positive outcome. I just know he will endure whatever comes his way and come out the other end victorious.

He has been writing his memoirs for a few years now and I gave him some homework last week. I asked him to think back in his life to times when he experienced failure - and to write about how it made him feel and what it taught him.

From my daughter vantage point with my head turned upwards to observe -- I watched him contort every failure or disappointment into a springboard from which he would catapult to new heights of achievement. He managed to get where he wanted to go, be who he wanted to be - eventually. And I can't see why now - facing a medical hurdle - it should be any different.

So Pops, as promised, I will contain my black humour and refrain from meddling in your care, but I will be close by Mama T's side with my sisters when the doctor emerges to tell us that your are busy writing bossy notes.

But let's be real -- you may have to take a pass on the jingle bell rock this Christmas - or not!

Give a Toilet and a Little Empowerment

2011-11-20T18:26:00.001-05:00

Photo credit: Gates Foundation

Thanks to a nasty headache that landed me on my assets for most of the day, I am not feeling like the day was particularly productive. The bright spots were the initiatives I found to support for my "give a little" effort.

I have been lax in blogging about my weekly give a little challenge so please bear with me.

In honour of World Toilet Day, and the 2+ billion people who do not have access to a private, clean place to poop oh don't be a prude - we all do it, I donated to World Toilet Org. I can't help it -- the thought of doing my private business in public is unfathomable so anything I can do to support the cause to improve the situation ... The mission of this organization is to improve sanitation conditions for people globally through advocacy, inventive technology, education and building marketplace opportunities locally. Like the Gates Foundation, they are supporting efforts to reinvent the conventional toilet; to find solutions that are not water based. It doesn't get any more basic or revolutionary than that!

Wendy Smith, author of Give a Little inspired me yet again with her suggestion to donate to the Imagine Rural Development Initiative (IRDI). This Zambian non-profit organisation is providing free skills-training in moringa cultivation to 30 previously unemployed local Zambian women. Moringa is an affordable and highly-nourishing superfood that can fight malnutrition, improve health and eradicate poverty. Sound good? Many of the local women taking the training are widows and breadwinners in their families and take care of not only their own children, but also grand-children and orphans who have lost their own parents due to HIV/AIDS and other illnesses.The donations help sustain the families while the women take the 6 month training. Wherever possible sustainability is key for me in my "investing" efforts. Don't we all want the same thing; to be able to take care of ourselves and our family and provide the foundation on which to build dreams?

So although I spent most of the day horizontal with reruns of "Love it or List it" playing in the background (helps me sleep), I feel like somehow I made a small, positive contribution and the day wasn't a total write off. And so another week begins!

Sparkles in the Gray

2011-11-19T22:54:00.001-05:00

Oh gray November, you held sparkles in your dismal with so many reasons to celebrate.

We came together as a family to celebrate birthdays of my two oldest daughters and my future son-in-law. The feast was bountiful with gluten free, starchy, grainy, meaty dishes and the table was customarily too noisy with cross conversations being exchanged in outdoor voices. The house burst with life - and love. Tears were shed (and not only over my daughter's gluten free cake attempt), and the best gift of all was my dad's emotional reaction to the gift of his family's history, neatly bound, and presented to him by my niece and nephew. These treasures of the past become that more precious and meaningful as we age, and get farther away from our beginning.

Last week I made two separate trips into the city to meet friends for dinner. Ironically each of the three have logged more than 36 years of friendship with me. We knew one another as kids, swapped vinyl records and listened to AM radio in the days of soft faded Levis, wedge haircuts and school band. As I drove the four-lane expressway into the city it occurred to me that to have friends from childhood still such a large part of my life is truly remarkable. One more reason to cut November a little slack, even if she did spill a little snow last Thursday.

And today hubby and I went with my engaged daughter and her beloved to choose the spot amongst the tall pines where they will make their vows next summer.

So many spots of light flickering amongst the gray and cool damp of November. And for that I am truly grateful.

Tradition of Remembrance

2011-11-12T13:09:00.001-05:00

It's become a personal tradition. I get Remembrance Day off at work, so for the past five years I have used the day as it was intended. I, along with so many others in my community, make my way down to our local cenotaph. There is an eerie silence - save the crunching of dead leaves - that hangs in the air as people walk the sidewalks leading to the park. We come in a varieties - white headed, bent elders with hints of elegance and pride in posture shuffling along, young parents with kidlets in tow, service personnel from all branches, multi generational families walking arm in arm, and lots of dogs.

It was a prophetic event. The day was gray and dismal - typical for November in these parts. Bystanders pulled their coats tightly around them and pulled scarves over their faces to shield from the wind. The pastor opened the ceremony with a prayer and introduced the trumpeter who would play The Last Post. As the first melancholy note sounded, the sun burst through the clouds, shining a spotlight on the band ensemble - so bright, I could barely take a picture. And as he played the final few bars, the sun disappeared as quickly as it came, and tiny, misty tears fell from heaven.

It seemed that the deeds and sacrifices of our service people were being remembered by all, everywhere.

Last Post

Thank you.

Hibernate

2011-11-09T23:07:00.002-05:00

It's dark when I go to work in the morning and dark again by the time I get home from work. I want to make like a bear and hibernate in a cave - at least until the dismal, damp of November passes and I can rest away my weary.

But - I am not a bear.

It's a Date!

2011-11-08T11:00:00.000-05:00

Well, it's legit; on; set in soapstone. My daughter's engagement has materialized into a wedding date. Now the fun begins. I have been watching reruns of "Say Yes to the Dress" so I will know how to scrunch my face disapprovingly and effectively impose my opinion as my daughter models wedding gown hopefuls. NOT! I only have ten months to excavate embarassing details from her childhood, polish the speech, fine tune my dance moves the slosh, chicken dance, the hustle - lose a few hips, transform into a viable monster-in-law and perfect the art of meddling.

All joking aside, there is something exciting about having a date attached to what will surely be the ultimate famjam. I was chatting away with my daughter about the endless possibilities when her phone went dead. I still had so much yet to cover. Come to think about it, that's been happening alot lately. I think I am going to have to reign in my enthusiasm a little and pace myself. I don't want to overwhelm her too early or she may make like a turtle and our collaboration will be shortlived.

I can picture her now: a delicate little bride standing hand in hand with her beloved, and me, waterworks and mascara running down my face, digital camera in hand and king-sized Kleenex wrapped neatly around my schnozz as I ~~howl~~ witness her nuptials. But in the meantime, I will be on my very best behaviour; a portrait of grace and dignity as I resist the urge to interfere, dominate and micro manage. This is Harmony's time and really, all I can do is wish her and her beloved a life together that will see their love grow stronger and expand through the years, just as mine has for them.

Still Giving a Little

2011-11-07T23:29:00.000-05:00

I haven't kept up my weekly posts about my give a little challenge - but I have kept up my giving. I am suffering some arm overuse issues so I have had to greatly reduced the number of posts to my blog, and that included not maintaining the weekly posts about the organizations and causes I found to "give a little" to.

In the past few months I have focused my giving on charitable organizations that address hunger, disease and women's issues. The famine in East Africa and the poverty issue in my own community earned my donations to help provide sustenance to my fellow human beings. Diseases that are affecting my loved ones and friends have garnered my attention and I tried to give a little to organizations with a focus on research and services. You can see an updated list of these orgs on the Give a Little page of this blog.

It has occurred to me that giving money is the easy "giving". I want to step things up and start giving a little more than money; maybe some time as well as my expertise and skills. This weekly challenge I set for myself was intended to set my internal compass to seeking out charitable opportunities. If you have any suggestions I would be grateful to have them.

Read about my Thursday's Give a Little Challenge and other posts. I have to give ongoing props to Wendy Smith for her inspiring book, Give a Little. Consider giving it a read.

And That's the Kind of Weekend It Was ...

2011-11-06T21:15:00.001-05:00

The clock says it is only 8:35 but I am fighting to keep my eyes open. Sleep beckons; clearly my body did not receive the memo about the time change.

It's been a good weekend with lots of time to reorganize, rake fallen leaves, wash bedding, talk wedding plans, visit and catch up with my kids, sis and parents. Weather-wise it was a perfect autumn weekend with bright blue skies and earthy coloured leaves still clinging to the branches. It's odd how some trees are still green, while others are dressed in various shades of gold. And then there are the trees that stand bare, having already shed their leaves. Where is the rhyme or reason?

I had ordered a documentary entitled "Triage: Dr. James Orbinski's Humanitarian Dilemma" so I snagged hubby to watch it with me Saturday night. pay back for Howard Jones It did not disappoint. Maybe it wasn't the best choice for date movie night (eating as we watched footage of the genocide and refugee camps), however it left me with lots to process afterwards and reinforced my admiration for James Orbinski. I read his book An Imperfect Offering last summer and it made a lasting impression on me.

Health is going to be a keynote this month. My father-in-law is trying to get answers to some health issues and is awaiting results of the tests. My dad is preparing himself for the second take on his spinal operation near the end of the month. We'll all be logging in some hospital time this month and as I do, I will say a silent prayer of gratitude for the health care system in my country that makes it possible for all - regardless of economic standing - to receive the tests and treatments they need, at no cost.

If health is the overriding theme for the month, friendship will be the theme for the week with lots dinners out and catching up to do. And I wonder why I'm fat.

Post Publish Update: As he was out for his last "rest break" for the night, Fritz found himself nose to nose with our friendly resident skunk and yes, horrors of horrors, managed to get himself blasted once again. I cannot begin to describe the stench of our house, yet again!

Skunkworks

2011-11-05T23:26:00.001-04:00

Our fantastically ~~ferocious~~ frenzied fearless Fritz is not one to be bullied by bigger animals ... so when he so brazenly confronted a HUGE skunk in our yard to let him know who was boss - Fritz was left in a haze of the most vile odour imaginable. Unfortunately it happened right at bedtime; fortunately it was after everyone had gone home after the parents "meat and greet" party. Of course the first thing our distressed little schnauzer did once inside was race around the perimeter of the family room rubbing his furry dogface along the couch skirt as he did. It was overpowering; nauseating; there are not enough words to describe the stench! Hubby grabbed Fritz and tossed him into the shower to douse him down with some chemically enhanced fragrant shampoo while I ran around the house wildly spraying Febreze.

Just as we settled into the trace skunk smell in our home and got the scent under control the speakable -- he got sprayed again. Yup! He's an overachiever our little furbag and couldn't leave it as a one-off. He had to prove that it was no fluke - it could happen again twice in three days! Hubby repeated the shower drill and I exhausted my can of Febreze. This time around though, the skunk odour is lingering here, there, and everywhere - and on everyone.

My shining moment came when my cubemates at work gave me the sniff test - and their wrinkled noses and looks of pity told me I failed. Horrors! My workplace is scent-free and I was anything but. My colleague emailed me this nifty webstie: Get Smell Out. I rummaged through my desk looking for something to spray myself with ... an old can of hairspray had to suffice. Anything is better than skunk!

So today I tackled my house with renewed vigilance. The windows were open wide and I took my bedding right down to the mattress cover to be bleached and washed. Everything is being washed and deodorized, including me.

A lady I met on my dog walk warned me that the smell would probably linger for 6 months or so. And that was the kind of week it was; skunkworks and something to smell about.

Harmony's Gifts

2011-11-02T23:12:00.000-04:00

I can remember exactly what I was doing 27 years ago. Birthdays are like that ... especially when it comes to those of my daughters. Today my second born is celebrating her birthday and I can't help but reflect on and celebrate her life. From a feisty, creative, unique child has emerged a self assured, theatrical, unique woman who lives an artful life.

Things I love about Harmony

she was a feisty womb kicker and managed to crack my ribs foreshadowing her spirit
she has been known to buy her clothes by the pound ultimate recycler
she has cut her own hair for years and that takes some kind of confidence
she makes the most heartfelt cards and gifts - the kind you keep forever
she is "family sentimental" and cherishes heirlooms and traditions, even the ones that aren't pretty
she willingly tagged along with me whenever I asked her to - and even when I didn't
she is a petite package of strength and steel just like her grandmother
she is able to live a full, rich life on very little
she was unplanned but just what I needed
she loves her sisters, and they, her

Happy birthday Harmony. My world is brighter with you in it.

Tribe Time

2011-10-31T23:58:00.000-04:00

Kitchen chatter

Friday night was a historical one - at least for our family, and for several reasons. It was the first time the parents of my daughter and her fiancee met, and it was the first time that all my husbands - exes and present - were together in celebration, in one room. My future son-in-law has an extended family as well and he was proudly represented by his mom and step-dad, and his father. It sounds complicated, however it was a relaxing family mosaic of diverse personalities and relationships bound together by the abiding love for the young couple.

We nibbled, drank, laughed, teased and debated around our dining room table. We exchanged memories, and ideas, and frivolity and joy reigned supreme on the beaming faces that lined the perimeter.

There was consensus - we all liked one another! I think even the dog liked everyone or at least no one got bitten. Life serves up some pretty tough challenges and lessons and sometimes, when it all comes together so easily, it is reason to rejoice and hold tight these gems. They are off to a fine start!

Harmony and her beloved are fortunate; they are anchored by a council of wise elders ha! and have a large, loving tribe to support them in their journey. They are loved by many, and now, with the tribe expanding to encompass even more, so are we all!

Stand Up

2011-10-27T10:56:00.000-04:00

Image from http://speakequal.com/u-s-education-secretary-releases-statement-regarding-recent-lgbt-youth-suicides/

Bullying and teen suicide. The tragedies and images are leaping off the pages, and our TV/computer screens. It's beyond disturbing. It has become an issue of epidemic proportion.

Someone I love once described suicide as not having a desire to die, but rather being too exhausted to live. Bullying can do that to someone. It can wear them down; grind them into disenfranchised shreds; strip them of self worth and deplete them of the will to go on ...

Although there are often complex reasons behind a suicide, being gay or different seems to be a recurring theme. Our teens are killing themselves because they can't find a safe place in our society to become all they were meant to be. Being gay is not as rare as we are lead to believe ... if everyone who was gay - every teacher, judge, politician, pastor, athlete, leader, celebrity - was "out" and living their lives authentically, it would not only diffuse the "different" factor just by sheer number, it would show our kids that everyone has a place at the table; it would give our kids something/someone visible to relate and hold onto.

I am a mom of a gay daughter and I will not accept "tolerance", pity, or sympathy for me or her, nor fear; nor judgement from anyone. I won't accept anything less for her than all she is entitled to; the same love, respect, rights, responsibilities, liberties, opportunities that are granted to every citizen in our country. Nothing less; no comprise. None.

But it's time for us to give the news stories more than a passing sigh and moment of silence. It is time for us to be outraged and become warriors to protect our children -- our future generation. Bullying has to be dealt with head on in the schools, in the home, within families, in the workplace and in the justice system. We must speak out, demand that our schools educate our children about bullying and the roles everyone have to play in preventing, protecting, and reporting. Gay adults have to step forward to dispel fears of the unknown; to model a different face of "normal". We adults (gay or otherwise) must STAND UP and provide a safety line for young people drowning in misery. Most of all we have get over ourselves and let people be who they are or who they want to be. Unless of course that means becoming a murderous criminal or bully. Period.

Rick Mercer, a talented Canadian famous for his clever, witty passionate rants, added his voice to the chorus of adults who publicly declared their gay status in the "It gets better" video shot a year ago to encourage young gay kids. He feels that it is time to move beyond telling our kids that it will get better, and start working to change that which is hurting them - and protect them. He can speak for himself; watch the video below:

Trading Shackles

2011-10-25T23:32:00.000-04:00

News footage shows the rejoicing in Libya at the prospect of democracy; Libya’s new leaders said they intend to make Islamic Sharia law the main source of legislation. And although it does not necessarily mean that the government will implement all provisions (some harsh) of Sharia - it is subject to interpretation, laws related to personal status - divorce, inheritance, marriage will likely apply. Women are not granted full equality in this system. I understand and respect the rights of religions and cultures to establish their criteria, however shouldn't participation in said be voluntary; chosen of a free heart and mind? This will be difficult when the laws and hence the penal systems uphold the new way forward.

I can't help wondering what this will mean for women -- half the population. Will the women of Libya who fought as vigorously as their male counterparts for change and liberty be forced into societal shackles, or will they be able to exercise free will? Will they have the right to choose their own destiny; and will there be harsh punishment for non-compliance? It is troubling to me that this direction for the nation is being determined by a leadership practically devoid of female voice.

I can only hope that the women of Libya will get the life they seek and deserve. And that's the political rant for the day.

My Clan is Bigger Than Your Clan

2011-10-24T23:15:00.000-04:00

On Friday night the tribes will converge, merge and hopefully not purge -- I am cooking, after all! We are hosting the first - of what is sure to be many - wedding tradition: the "meet the parents" dinner. Harmony will have her mom (ME) and three dads (each of them very nice, but I have my favourite) and her sisters to prop her up if she overdoes the sparkling water and rice crackers. Her beloved Hubby-in-waiting will have his mom and step-dad and father in his corner. hmm, seems a little tilted to the bride's side.

I have promised to be on my best behaviour; no inappropriate jokes relating to sex, religion, age, gender, speech impediments or appearances -- hair, the lack thereof, or the quality of makeshift solutions. I will refrain from retelling any frightful tales related to Harmony's birth how many stitches I had or about her father making a quick stop to grab a submarine sandwich on the way to the hospital while I laboured gracefully between short, rapid breaths. It didn't stop me from rolling down the window and calling after him to "grab me an "assorted". I'll be hungry later". And I was. And I gobbled it up within minutes of delivering her. But I digress ... see the problem?

Getting back to the blessed event ... the Friday night dinner I am throwing; the roasted squash and apple soup is made and nesting comfortably in the freezer, and the menu is set. Hubby will be grilling the livestock on the the BBQ while I drink and I will ensure there is something to satisfy every dietary restriction- gluten-free, dairy-free, vegetarian - and guilty pleasure - chocoholic fixes, seafood and wine -- lots of wine.

All kidding aside, it is fun to look forward to all of the pomp and tradition that comes with these milestone events. My little one has grown into a woman and time is marching on. Things that were once mysteries to me -- what kind of woman she would become; if she would marry, and if so, what kind of person she would choose - are now being revealed. Life is truly a wondrous adventure serving up the predictable and the unimaginable, and the whole time reminding us what it means to live.

Life is good, and for that I am truly grateful.

Pups, Pregnancy and Pictures

2011-10-23T23:01:00.002-04:00

What a relief to awake to sunshine today after a full week of dreary. A sunbeam streamed in the window, beckoning to me. So I left my nasty headache on my pillow and joined the day; I had a good feeling ... and rightfully so!

Another fur-ball joined the tribe. My almost thirty daughter she hates when I say that picked up her puppy this morning and brought it over for a Fritz inspection. Of course the precious little ball of fur with the button nose sucked us all in and we found ourselves cooing and speaking in high pitched baby voices. Fritz was skittish and confused. He went nose to nose with the pint-size while we held our collective breath, hoping he wouldn't pull a sudden lunge or nasty attack. But he didn't. It was as though he knew that this little one was harmless and needed a delicate touch. In mere moments, the little puppy was shadowing Fritz all over the house. So, so cute and endearing.

Next on my agenda today was a little photo shoot for a young couple expecting a baby in January. My Tender Heart friend is going to be a grandma and I offered to document the pregnancy. We headed to the lake on this perfect fall day and soon we had a little audience watching the loving young couple pose for me. The banter between the couple was easy and affectionate; and I couldn't help but get caught up in the joy of impending parenthood. I teased them and cracked inappropriate jokes to try to ease them into the poses. We exchanged "when I was pregnant" stories and we laughed as the lingering audience tossed out little quips and advice. Just like puppies, everyone loves a pregnant woman ... and the possibility and potential she carries under her blouse.

It's been a while since I've done a photo shoot for someone else and I thoroughly enjoyed it even though my DSLR and I are in the process of getting reacquainted. It was a good day, filled with life -- fur, button noses, beaming faces, bulging bellies - other than mine - and photos. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Meet Runyon - my daughter's pup

Parents in waiting

Measuring the girth

Cut and Cheer

2011-10-19T08:43:00.000-04:00

Interesting combo ... makes getting a trim look kinda fun!

Women Power

2011-10-18T23:48:00.000-04:00

I don't fancy myself a particularly "girly" ~~girl~~ woman. I never have been. I spent my teen years in Greb work boots and denim overalls and usually opted for the shirt and tie for school band performances. I played a baritone (smaller version of a tuba) and sat in the back with the mostly male brass section. I felt most comfortable in my well worn blue jeans and soft flannel shirt with the ground firm beneath my feet.

These days I dress for the office but my off duty style hasn't evolved. My love for my blue jeans and comfortable footwear remains intact and I am most happy in my hubby's flannel.

My notion about what is feminine has never been connected to my appearance. I was surrounded by strong women - mother, grandmother and sisters and raised three independent young women. I have been immersed in the feminine my whole life; I have felt my most feminine when:

I have felt my power surging through my veins, driving me to ask for promotions or challenging me to right a wrong.
I felt my babies move inside me.
only my hugs and tender loving care could comfort my sick baby.
I wiped the brow of my ailing mother.
I stood side-by-side with a man whose love for me is as great as mine for him
I could support myself and my family.
my strength was tested and I learned just how resilient I am.

Loving myself and becoming the best version of myself makes me feel good - thus look good, although these days the "power surges" I experience have more to do with age than anything else. Peace and contentment radiate as authentic beauty that cannot be manufactured. What makes women feel feminine is as diverse as the women themselves; as for me, femininity has been a state of mind that has more to do with my sense of self and little to do with the height of my heels, the cut of my blouse or the shape of my brows. We women are blessed with an unique energy and essence that offers unlimited possibilities, if we can learn to access it.

And that is why my girls and I used to start our day with arms raised ~~bellowing~~ chanting "WOMEN POWER".

Reminder

2011-10-17T22:40:00.001-04:00

She got mail! My mom has been gone for almost fourteen years now impossible! and today, she got mail. I couldn't help but smile when I saw the envelope laying on the kitchen table, with her name on it.

Just in case I had any notion of letting her memory lapse, she gave me a gentle nudge, just as she has done so many times before.

Mom, we speak your name every day; the advice you so intuitively dispensed is passed along generously to those who need it most; and your handwritten notes flutter out from nowhere to remind me of your loving spirit.

Thank you ... you always seem to know when I need you most.

Exposure and Closure

2011-10-16T23:40:00.001-04:00

It takes on an unwelcoming cloak in the gray drear of the October cold. This beloved cottage of ours is a summer paradise; a slice of heavenly nature. But with nothing but uninsulated plywood flooring between my woollies and the great outdoors, the chill in the air is unrelenting.

Hubby and I went north to close up the cottage and ready it for winter hibernation. It just so happened that we picked probably the most inhospitable day possible for the task. It was 6 degrees Celsius with wind warnings and worst of all - it poured rain the entire time.

My electric heaters raised the temp a few more degrees to 12 so I couldn't see my breath (thankfully) but the toilet seat felt as though it was a block of ice. Hubby had it far worse pulling water lines out of the lake, lugging the dock furniture up the steep incline to store under the cottage and disengaging the floating docks in preparation for the ice and snow that is sure to follow in the months coming. He was drenched to the skin and the love affair I was having with my rubber boots came to an abrupt end when they cracked and flooded with lake water.

It was so miserable that it was comical and hubby and I giggled uncontrollably as I attempted to lift my corner of the waterlogged dock. I was more of a hindrance in my clumsy as I struggled to keep my balance in my unfashionable but beloved boots on the slippery rocks. Hubby ruled with his Herculean display of strength and endurance and I saluted him on bended knee as I tried to get up from my latest slip.

The beds were stripped and wrapped in plastic; the fridge emptied; the water lines drained; the deck furniture and canoe stored safely under the cottage and the electricity shut off for the winter. Everything packed up with another year's of precious memories from a summer loved at the cottage.

It was bittersweet pulling away; the half naked woods left the cottage looking forlorn and exposed and me with a feeling of sadness in my heart. But the yearning for a hot shower to warm my aching chilled limbs made it a little easier to leave and tune my channel to gratitude for the gifts that have been bestowed. For all that and more, I am supremely grateful.

The mountain of cottage laundry!

Travelling Girl

2011-10-11T22:59:00.002-04:00

I love Canada! I boarded my baby plane (thankfully had a bathroom but no sink ... alcohol based sanitizer if you were wondering) and headed east for work. The colours were magnificent and because we were flying in a plane that travels close to the ground, I got a bird's eye view of the spectacular foliage in eastern Canada. I have been in every province and territory in Canada with the exception of the Yukon (am saving that one for Harmony) and I have never lost my awe for the rugged beauty of this wondrous land. I get giddy as soon as I hit the airport cause that means I am going somewhere! Today was no exception.

I people-watched intently as I waited for my flight and pretended not to eavesdrop as I witnessed the unraveling, converging and unfolding of lives. Intriguing. Technology ruled the departure lounge of course but I couldn't help noticing the elderly couple across from me - her with her Kindle and he with his tablet and me with my stealth little camera.

The cab ride was a treat. In the 15 minute chat I learned more about the local woes, best spots to check out and the pride my driver has for his community. Cab rides are like that ... wisdom imparted to a visiting guest that seems to set the tone for the duration. I arrived an hour before sunset so I had time to troll the streets and get the lay of the land ... the nearest Cora's for breakfast; a handy little noodle hut and the venue where I will be working. In the offchance you are interested, I shared some pics of this quaint autumnal town and resisted the urge to photograph food. Did I tell you how much I love my beautiful grand country?

Thanksgiving Pixels

2011-10-10T23:50:00.001-04:00

It was the warmest, sunniest Thanksgiving I could remember. No typical sweater weather here, in fact thoughts of air conditioning danced in my head. Having the oven on all day added to the tropical feel inside but I still lit my pumpkin candles.

There were people missing at the table .. a few of my sibs and kids and for the first time ever, my dad and step-mom. And despite the absences, there were no empty seats at the table. We had grandparents that don't usually come and of course we had our beloved Doris who at 94 makes us all look old for our age.

It's all about traditions: the same turnips get cooked even though only half of us like them; the stuffing is made exactly the same way; flour in the homemade gravy; homemade cranberries, turkey of course; the fall fair; and most importantly, time with our family.

Since a picture tells a thousand words, get ready for a few "grand" visuals of our Canadian Thanksgiving weekend:

Mile high brownie pie

Gluten-free apple cranberry cake

Oh the pies we could make!

Greedy little pigs!

Hanibal Lecter sheep

My kind of race.

Simply Perfect

2011-10-07T23:54:00.002-04:00

It's been one of those days that I will file under "simply perfect". Mother Nature so generously bestowed some beautiful autumn weather, with warm brilliant sunshine haloing the gold and yellow leaves. I shut the furnace off and threw open the windows to let the fresh air blow through the house. I cleaned my fridge, made a call to update my dad on the election results, gloated over the Liberal victory with him and then dashed off to do my grocery shopping with my eldest girl.

I was feeling the abundance so I said "yes" to everyone who was collecting. I baked pumpkin tarts, made a brownie mile high cake and peeled everything that needed the outer layer removed. I stopped short of my neck. I filled vases with rustic bouquets and lit pumpkin spice votives and resisted the urge to eat them. Tomorrow we are having the family over for Thanksgiving dinner and I am almost ready. Tomorrow I will dust off the vacuum, declutter (dump everything into a laundry basket) the top of every flat service in the kitchen, make stuffing, and set the table. Hubby will coax the innards out of the turkey and work his magic on the 20 lb bird. My stomach just growled. I'm getting hungry.

I think I may have ingested half my daily calories in cake batter. I got to lick the spatulas AND the bowls ... and now you know what made this day simply perfect! To my fellow Canadians celebrating Thanksgiving, I wish you a wonderful weekend and hope that you have someone you love to share the wishbone with.

Ninety-nine

2011-10-04T23:34:00.001-04:00

You turned 99 today; a milestone of monumental proportion. We thought you wouldn't understand or remember, but when your daughter showed up bearing joy and birthday greetings, you spoke up loud and clear, "My birthday is in October". And you were right. You are so full of surprises, riding a roller coaster of oblivion, despair, recognition and momentary clarity. Much of your time is spent inward in a world of your own design.

You are loved, and tenderly attended to by your devoted daughter. You know you have a daughter Shirley, even though you are unable to attach that knowledge to her face. She squeezes you tightly and tells you that she loves you. You whisper "I love you too". You sit slightly slouched, eyes tightly closed until she coaxes you back. You don't see the tears escaping, rolling down her cheeks. She is quick to erase their traces; fighting to keep the mood light and happy, to create a world to keep your interest.

But you are disappearing swiftly Nana. The spots of joy are fewer and farther between. Life is not offering you the comfort you need, and the disease is stealing more of you each day. It's painful for your loved ones to witness your decline, to release that over which we have no control.

But today is your birthday, and you had cake. And for a few moments, there was sweetness in your world. You didn't need words, you could taste it. You didn't need to know her name, you felt her. And at ninety-nine years of age, sweetness and love may be all we can give you.

Happy birthday Nana.

Weekend Brief

2011-10-02T23:47:00.002-04:00

The little numbers in the corner of my laptop tell me that it is October 2nd. Hard for me to believe ... September seemed to slip through my fingers and now we are into October. With my calendar already blotched with appointments and commitments I can see that this month too will fly by; be over before I know it.

There have been reminders of the new season being ushered in. The trees are in various states of undress and colour and this weekend was cold (6 degrees Celsius) and rainy. If I were a bear I would be heading for my cave to hibernate. Instead I crawled the mall (purposefully), went to a movie with hubby, did the laundry, got reacquainted with my iron, baked a cake, made potato leek soup, and started (but didn't come close to finishing) reorganizing our basement and spare room (AKA my personal space). Have you ever over-zealously tackled a reorganizing project, gotten sidetracked by reading every greeting card, pouring over old photos and ended with a pile in middle of the floor harder on the eyes than the original travesty - just as you run out of steam. Get the picture? There is lots more to do know but I admit that I enjoyed the leisurely reminiscing. I just have to get better at letting go of mementos, keepsakes and STUFF in general.

Suffice to say the house is in worse shape than when I started and there are miles to go before I sleep (or before the Thanksgiving famjam). But the weekend ended on a high note with an impromptu turkey dinner at my Dad and Step-Mom's place.

Shopping. Sloppy. Spontaneous. Familial. That was my weekend in a nutshell. Now I am going to crank our heat up just a notch or two so I won't see my breath.

Hope yours was good where ever you are, and whatever season you are enjoying!

Way to Inspire

2011-09-26T22:28:00.000-04:00

This time last year I was gearing up to go to We Day, still reveling in the euphoric aftermath of our Kenya trip. It was the experience that kept on giving, and left an indelible impression. Tomorrow I will watch the inspirational testimonials, and musical tributes that amount to a celebration of evangelical proportion via an Internet stream. Nothing like thousands of school-aged pumped up, wired, shameless idealists (that's what they call themselves) committing to being agents of change, to restore hope and kick my butt into action. The youth of today are fearless; they understand that they are part of a global village with responsibilities to their larger human family. They inspire me to ask myself what my role is in creating a better world; they show me that every effort, no matter how small, creates a ripple of much needed change.

Our youth have much to teach us. We just have to pay attention.

Colour Me Autumn

2011-09-25T23:30:00.001-04:00

Colour is creeping up stems and trunks filling leaves with blazing glory -- one last stand before they wither and drop. Fall officially arrived last Friday, but the signs have been evident for the past few weeks. The trees are not yet half turned but it will happen quickly now. There will only be a few more weeks to enjoy the foliage. It's a transition season; the glorious burst of colour somehow making it easier to let go of our beloved summer, easing us into what we know is to come -- bitter cold and snow.

Every fall I remember why I love this time of year. The air takes on a smokey, woodsy smell as the cool nights get fireplaces ablazing; the Macintosh apples ripen hard and sour (the official taste of autumn); and the dried leaves crunch underfoot as we walk in the forest. Doesn't get more Canadian than that!

I am trying to enjoy the season, as fleeting as it. I picked up coloured gourds to make a centrepiece for the table. I bought some acorn squash to bake; some leeks to make potato leek soup; and a bag of Macs for apple crisp. So glad I learned to like my vegetables.

Despite weather forecasts predicting rain and misery, the weekend was stellar -- more blue skies, and warm but crisp fresh air. I spent some time with my newly engaged daughter, saw the youngest momentarily as she stopped off to sleep at home one right en route to other festivities and spoke to the other one on the phone. We are all looking forward to Thanksgiving; we will be lighter in number this year but the turkey dinner goes on as scheduled.

Good feelings and thoughts swirled around me all weekend ... and I even got a free turkey in the grocery store promo. Prosperity and abundance abounds here and I can only be filled with gratitude. For at this very moment, in countless corners of the world, and even in my own country, people are hungry and suffering, clinging to hope. These will be my thoughts and remembrances as I am moved to act; to share.

There will be more pics to share as autumn presents in all her glory - but for now, I am sharing the first signs of what is to come ...

Our maple leaf -- and now you know why it's on our flag!

Withering

Something to Celebrate

2011-09-19T13:08:00.000-04:00

I did it! I managed to keep a secret for a few minutes until my daughter and her fiancee could deliver their news in person to all of their parents. My daughter is getting married. She will be the first of our next generation to do so just as I was in my family.

When you hold your baby in your arms you get momentary flash forwards -- first steps; graduations; boyfriends; marriage; and more. It's hard for me to fathom that we have arrived at one of those flash forwards. Her voice on the other end of the phone was so solemn and quiet I starting wondering if she was going to tell me that I was going to be a grandmother. That news if it ever comes will have to wait.

Right now we have a wedding to plan and considering that the family alone (9 parents and 9 grandparents to start with) comes close to 80, we're going to need alot of party hats.

My baby is getting married and I only have a few months to impart my volume of marriage advice ... starting with to always kiss one another good night! Muah!

Blazing Gazes

2011-09-18T22:20:00.000-04:00

Sunset. Moonlight. Starbright. Reflections on a glassy lake.

That is what awaited us this weekend after our drive up to the cottage. We pulled in and as we unpacked our car, we were overwhelmed by the black velvet sky scattered with what looked like millions of diamonds. Then we heard our first owls calling out.They were hidden in the dark but they were on our property. Hubby was in his glory. The lake had its own goodnight reserved for us. We stood on our deck taking in the beauty of the absolute stillness and the spectacular glowing moon that sat lower in the horizon lighting up the lake with its golden reflection. I tried to capture it with my camera but the image ended up a pale, somewhat blurred imitation.

We had debated if we should make the trek north to the cottage this weekend and I am so happy we went. It did not disappoint. The weather was filed under perfect - cool but brilliant sunshine with blue skies and dead calm waters. The trees were speckled orange and red already and alot of the birches were well underway to bare. We walked with our incorrigible little schnauzer, breathing in the fresh autumn air and marveling at our good fortune for these stolen moments spent immersed in nature. It sounds cliche, but it really does revitalize the soul and you can feel anything that ails you ease out to make way for calm and serenity.

This weekend delivered some exciting feathered sightings ... a golden eagle in flight; a blue heron that I disturbed in the marsh; a pair of loons that followed hubby and I as we paddled around the lake; and the usual chickadees and ducks. The hummingbirds are gone but I managed to get a shot of one a few weeks ago, which made my day.

So now that I listed all of the positives, I will interrupt this programming to express one complaint --- it was cold as heck in the cottage. The first night it was only 6 degrees C inside. We cranked up the space heaters, I wore fleece and socks underneath the down comforter and by morning when I awoke I couldn't see my breath thankfully. Hubby made a fire and soon the cottage was warmed to a toasty 16 degrees. Once we discovered that it was actually warmer in the sunshine on the deck, we fled the coop and ate our lunch out there.

Now, back to our regular scheduled post ... it was a wonderful weekend all around and I hope that wherever you may be, that yours was good as well. Now here are a few images I snapped of the early days of a Canadian autumn.

Remembering

2011-09-12T20:51:00.002-04:00

Remembering. I did alot of that yesterday, and I know I wasn't the only one. Imagery of 9|11 flooded the airways and did what it intended -- it brought me back a decade, to a precise moment in time, to remind me exactly what I was doing, and where I was when IT happened.

The ceremonies and emotional snares reeled me in. It seems that we like to remember. I certainly do my share; most of my sentences start with the preamble, "remember when ...". That can be annoying to someone who suffers from memory impairment, which is me most of the time. There is a certain comfort in remembering and reliving "old times", even the painful ones. We find refuge in ritual and solace in monuments, even if they happen to be scraps of paper with shaky handwritten sentiments.

This desire, this need to memorialize monumental moments and events in our lives is a way of retaining or even creating something tangible out of that which is no longer so; it provides touchstones and resuscitates; it breathes life into thought, and permits a visitation with the past - however fleeting.

When the mood strikes me, usually when I set out to clear the clutter, or clean out my room, I rummage in my bookcase and old shoe boxes and sort through the random old photos and the collection of cards and letters I have saved. I pull out my mother's spiral-bound journals and read the notes that appear in her beautiful handwritten script: affirmations, wish lists, shopping lists, thoughts, reminders and health tips. I hear her voice reciting as I read her words. I feel serene in that which she left behind.

Remembering ... embers of precious and pain that remind us what it means to live and to have lived. - Lyn

Leo's Love Quiz

2011-09-10T20:43:00.000-04:00

Today was just about as perfect a fall day as there could be. The sky was clear and deep blue and the air was warm, fresh, and devoid of humidity. Hubby and I stole a few hours and walked Fritz by the spectacular waterfront in our town.

To celebrate this glorious day I am sharing something written by a wonderfully inspiring person - Leo Buscaglia- one of my favourites and though he passed away in 1998, he left the world forever changed. I hope you enjoy this little quiz and that it gives you food for thought.

Leo's Love Quiz

A few end-of-the-day questions for each of us...

Is anyone a little happier because I came along today?
Did I leave any concrete evidence of my kindness, any sign of my love?
Did I try to think of someone I know in a more positive light?
Did I help someone to feel joy, to laugh, or at least, to smile?
Have I attempted to remove a little of the rust that is corroding my relationships?
Have I gone through the day without fretting over what I don't have and celebrating the things I do have?
Have I forgiven others for being less than perfect?
Have I forgiven myself?
Have I learned something new about life, living or love?
If you are not satisfied with your answers, take heart. Tomorrow you get to start all over again! If you will it, this is one quiz you can never fail.

Sending each of you love and wishes for a wonderful weekend.

Labour Day Change Up

2011-09-05T22:08:00.001-04:00

In a few hours another Labour Day weekend will have come and gone. And oh, how so very different they are now from those of yesteryear.

They used to be a bustling few days of school shopping with the girls, doing copious loads of laundry and back to school organization and preparations. Usually the Jerry Lewis Telethon was the soundtrack on the eve before the first day of school. Kids would be bathed, new outfits carefully laid out for morning, lunchboxes packed ....

This weekend was a little different. The first part was spent at the cottage with hubby overlooking the sketchy weather to celebrate our wedding anniversary. We came home last night to avoid the traffic and wake up in our bed to enjoy a full day of downtime.

The house is oddly quiet. She just left and headed back to university. Yup we are officially empty nesters. Kidlet is starting her second year and spent the week in ready mode - slowly stock piling her stuff in the dining room, in the spare bedroom, in the hallway, the laundry room ... get the picture? She was out and about for most of the day, tying up loose ends, saying her goodbyes and finally dropped around after dinner to pack the truck and head off. She isn't going far - just under an hour away - but when she planted a parting kiss on my cheek and called a cheery "bye Mom" as she closed the door behind her, it snuck up on me. That melancholy little empty feeling that reminds me that the time is drawing that much closer when she'll pack up for the last time for permanent leave. The days are numbered.

So as the chilly autumn air moves in to remind us that summer has moved on as well, the house is emptier and quieter, and the copious mounds of laundry are folded and put away, another Labour Day weekend has come to a close. Tomorrow we turn a new page to a fresh start. I suppose a part of us never loses the "back to school" feeling and all the changes that go along with it.

And part of me - just a little part of me - wishes I was sending three little girls off to school in the morning.

Wordless Wednesday: Unwelcome?

2011-08-31T21:26:00.000-04:00

Something seems to be missing ...

Times are a'Changing

2011-08-30T22:41:00.002-04:00

Change is in the air. The days are getting shorter and now when I leave for work in the morning, it is barely daylight; a reminder of the impending end of summer as if the back to school ads weren't enough. Kidlet is gearing up for her second year of university. The reappearance of her hockey equipment is signalling her decision to try out for the varsity team. She has missed the game I admit that I have too so if her tryouts are successful and her shoulder holds out then her roomies will have the pleasure of her omnipresent hockey bag in various degrees of stench being stowed in the utility room. And I will pass the along the Fabreez to her worthy mates.

Harmony is in the throes of shifting creative directions in her career and my oldest daughter is finding new roommates. To add to the change mix my organization is in flux as well - thank you Mr. Harper. Oh well, fall seems to bring about change and I have learned its better to embrace than avoid.

I started back to the gym this week after months of being MIA just like my waistline. I figure it's better to spend lunch hours getting exercise rather than overeating or spending money. And it's part of my effort to keep a promise to myself for better work / life balance and good health.

I've missed our little cabin up north so I am looking forward to the upcoming weekend - our last summer hurrah at the cottage. Hope Harmony caught the rogue mouse that was roaming around. It's been two weeks so I know I will notice lots of changes - maybe even some partially clad trees and such.

Politically there has been some chatter about our left wing and moderately left parties merging to conquer our conservative government. I think it makes sense, but then again I lean to the left and anything that will create a strong opposition to the destruction path our leader is taking the country down is good in my books.

Change is in the air. I can smell it.

Monumental and Minuscule

2011-08-28T23:38:00.000-04:00

Forces of nature; the weekend was full of them. Hurricane Irene barreled up the eastern coastline leaving a wake of destruction and anxiety and dominated CNN coverage. Apparently they are only capable of covering one story at a time. In Canada our attention was fixed on all things Jack Layton ... synthesizing his passing; watching his celebration of life; pondering his legacy.

Earthquakes, hurricanes, revolutions, revelations, uprisings and rising up. And in between, fresh tomatoes from my dad's garden, walks by the water, tea with my sister, daughter time and family dinner.

Life is like that ... the monumental intertwined with the minuscule. Equally rich.

A Canadian Send Off

2011-08-27T21:33:00.000-04:00

Today I, like so many of my fellow Canadian around the country, watched the celebration of life for Jack Layton, a beloved leader who passed last week. I sat mesmerized by the outpouring of love, admiration and appreciation for his optimism, integrity and his commitment to his ideals and causes. My hero Stephen Lewis delivered the eulogy with his unique brand of eloquence and grace.

Everywhere I went today I saw signs of grief for the man who will be sorely missed. Flags were flown at half mast; yellow and orange (his political party colour) ribbons were tied around trees and lamp posts and his campaign signs were randomly posted around town.

More than we would admit in life, he moved us more in his passing ... the reality that a light had been extinguished; a powerful, socially conscious voice silenced. Canadians seem to be thirsty for vision and hope for a better country - a country of greater equality, justice and opportunity. He fought tirelessly for those ideals, and in the throes of his dying, he reached out to assure us all that hope was not extinguished, but that change for the world we want to live in could be ours to create.

Every once in a while a person comes along who can touch the hearts of the collective and remind us of the fairest face of humanity.

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day I can hear her breathing.”

- Arundhati Roy

Back to School

2011-08-26T22:15:00.089-04:00

Back to school! That used to mean loads of washing and clothes to organize; new lunch boxes; haircuts for the girls; shopping for new shoes and school supplies. It meant the return of routine, bedtimes that gave way to some mommy quiet time; lunch meat; Glad sandwich bags and daycare. It meant regular bath times and braiding hair. And it usually meant a few shed tears on the first day (me doing the shedding).

Back to school these days looks a different around our house. Kidlet rounds up the boxes and ~~cr@p~~ really important stuff that she didn't unpack when she moved home after first year; we strip the cupboard of pasta and random canned goods; we shop for bedding that will compliment her purple room; and I keep my fingers crossed that her beloved hockey bag will miss her enough to follow Kidlet to school.

Kidlet and I spent the day meandering around her university town. I tripped along behind as she made the rounds to the bookstore, the registrar's office and the bank. I discreetly peered from behind clothing racks as she dropped off resumes and took impromptu interviews. The best part was the sneak peek I got of her student housing apartment which was more than a little upscale from the student pads of my era. There were no holes in the wall, no critters popping out of cutlery drawers, and all of the cupboard doors were on their hinges. Her mattress is not propped up on bricks, there were no empty wine bottles draped in candle wax (not yet anyway) and there was actually a suite of cleaning products on the counter. I think once Kidlet and her roomies figure out how to get those nasty stains out of the toilet and how to get the carbon monoxide detectors to stop beeping, they will be in for some good times.

This time of year I always get in a back to school frame of mind. I am looking forward to the change that the fall brings. I will miss the quiet that befalls the house when Fritz has no one to bark at; and the pile of ~~shoes~~ Birkenstocks at the door that are so fun to trip over not to mention the collection of hockey sticks that attack me when I pull the vacuum cleaner out of the closet. And I take comfort knowing that whatever changes occur when Kidlet leaves for school -- they are temporary. She'll be home again before I know it.

Noble Life and Gracious Exit

2011-08-23T00:36:00.002-04:00

Canada lost a favoured son today. It's after midnight so technically it was yesterday. He was the consummate leader - someone people wanted to follow. He was a whirling, swirling vortex of energy, principles and charisma. His was champion of the causes of working men and women; the disenfranchised; the underdog - giving voice to those without one.

He swung to the left in his politics; a socially conscious citizen of the world dedicating his life to service and change, and pursuing his ideals with passion and eternal optimism. And regardless of what political stripes you wore, you couldn't help but admire and respect an individual so genuinely committed to fighting for the causes he believed in.

His name was Jack Layton and just four months ago, he came from behind in the election to become the leader of the official opposition in Canada. He ran his campaign while fighting to hold onto his health, and shortly after his historical victory, he succumbed to cancer. But just two days before he passed, he wrote a letter to Canada; a letter that would bring a tear to a glass eye. I am posting a link to it here that you may also become inspired, as was I: Letter to Canadians from Jack Layton

The world needs people like Jack Layton.

"My friends, love is better than anger.

Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair.

So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world."

Telescoping Autumn

2011-08-21T22:12:00.003-04:00

I cringe in denial at about what I am about to write ... the signs are there; the transition has begun; autumn is in the air. This weekend at the lake, I saw the first hints of fall. The heat of the day gave way easily to cool evenings and even cooler nights - just perfect for sleeping. When I stood on our deck overlooking the still waters of the lake, I could smell autumn. The white birches were already shedding their yellowed leaves like tears on the dock. I am not ready to let go of summer. It passed all too quickly. But it has been exceptional to spend so much time immersed in nature, decompressing away from the city.

So I will be sure to enjoy our next few weekends of summer and fit all the swimming in that I can. Soon I will retire my bathing suit and trade tank tops in for fleece, flip flops will give way to rubber boots and our fireplace will get a real work out. The maples will turn crimson and gold and the forest will be stripped barren except for a lush carpet of dropped leaves.

But I am getting ahead of myself. What happened to living in the present? Summer, spring or fall, I love the changes and variety of each season. Yup, it's all good!

The evidence as follows:

inner secrets

campfire remnant

It's started

Signs of aging

Thanks MIH

Give a Little Hope and Life to those Suffering the East Africa Famine

2011-08-16T14:11:00.003-04:00

Photo from UN Info Service

For the past month, I have been consumed with the disaster that has unfolded with the famine in Somalia. The devastation to human life is epic and something that in the West, for most, is inconceivable. We cannot grasp the sheer magnitude of suffering and I am not sure we even want to. We turn away from the horror and the ugly and the reminder of the comfort and abundance in our own lives. Life is stressful these days for everyone it seems; it’s too much to take on.

But how can we not? As I searched for my weekly “give a little” opportunities, I couldn’t get past the famine and the eyes of the mothers who have sacrificed children on the trek to save their families. I couldn’t get past the pools of sorrow and fear in the eyes of babies who have no parents. It’s humongous with more than 12 million lives at risk and experts are predicting the effects of this drought will be felt for years after.

I usually try to pick organizations that provide sustainable solutions to communities who need it most. But what is more “sustainable” than providing basic sustenance for people who will die – and are dying - without it? So for the past four weeks I have donated to agencies dedicated to providing food and care to the people who have been devastated by the drought; this disaster not of their own design nor making. In keeping with Wendy Smith’s philosophy of spreading the love, I donated “a little” to four different agencies. I stuck mainly to Canadian agencies because the Canadian government is matching all donations until September 16th:

Oxfam Canada East Africa Food Crisis
Red Cross Canada Horn of Africa Drought
Free the Children Program to Help Build a Sustainable Future
World Food Program (WFP)

I know we are weary and have problems of our own but I can’t help feeling that any problems we may be encountering here at home, pale in comparison to the mountain of hopelessness that is building as I type these words. Wendy Smith taught me that a little goes a long way, when multiplied by many. So – I am giving a little hope to our family across the world, that they may know that we care if they live.

Food Confessions

2011-08-15T22:50:00.001-04:00

Tomorrow's aspiration

Today was what I would call a bad eating day ... you know, the kind of day when anything within reach that is loaded with sugar, fat, carbs, salt and preservatives found its way into my mouth. I was rushed this morning and left without my lunch ... so that meant a whole grain blueberry muffin at the Tim Hortons drive through. My cure for droopy eyelids is always fuel so at lunch I went out for an egg salad sandwich - and came back with a mess of french fries (and the sandwich). Fries sit like a rock in my stomach so I wasn't hungry at dinner. So I skipped the main course and had chocolate cake for dessert AND (gotta love this) Skinny Cow caramel swirl ice cream.

So as I finish this tidy little bowl of unsalted peanuts and water, I feel absolutely gross. I've hit my gastric rock bottom, so much so that a coffee colonic sounds like a treat! They say it is always darkest before the dawn, and I am in a pretty dark nutritional place. So tomorrow is a new day, and I will cringe at the sight of anything that is not a fruit or vegetable. I absolve myself from my dietary missteps and I am sure I will do the penance I deserve. And I will start anew, tomorrow.

Scenes from Cottageland

2011-08-13T17:28:00.002-04:00

This is one of the few weekends that hubby and I haven't spent up at our cottage. My dad's surgery was scheduled for Friday (rescheduled from June 30) however the doctors weren't confident that they knew exactly what drugs he reacted to. They don't want to take a chance with his life (HALLELUJAH) so they called it off until they can be sure. Pops is handling it with a remarkable attitude; he has released that over which he has no control and has chosen gratitude for the diligence of his doctor. It will happen all in good time.

So- I thought I would share a few pics taken at our cottage, Falconridge. It's the next best thing to being there ....

Next lake over apres portage!

This is on the lake beside ours. This reminds me of a Group of Seven painting.

Canoe trip

Our "shower" at the cottage

Neglected rubbers

Lunar moth in the making

Restaurant dock at sunset

Dock outside the restaurant

Chipmunks chasing nuts on the deck

Tarnish and Brilliance

2011-08-12T22:21:00.001-04:00

It is tarnished, this dollar-sized silver pendant, but the turquoise manages to defy the time inflected camouflage. It is special because it was yours; I was with you when we bought souvenirs to remember our trip to Mexico. When I hold it in my hand and tightly wrap my fingers around it, I can feel your energy; it pulls you close ... or at least your memory. I hesitate to clean the protective film of tarnish and expose the brilliance.

I love change; in fact I embrace it. However there are just some things that I like to preserve and wish to remain the same. My memories are like that; history - not so much. I miss you and when I touch something that you touched, or read a book I know you held in your hands, I can pull you close and for a brief flicker of time, forget that you went on ahead.

So back the pendant goes into the treasure box with the rest of my mementos; there will be another time for remembering. And maybe I'll even clean it and wear it from time to time.

Musing and Mantras

2011-08-11T22:40:00.001-04:00

Take the best, and leave the rest.

This is one of the mantras I live by - whether it be advice, a complicated relationship, situation or a grisly piece of meat! Perfection can be elusive; I have found it is better to develop a reflex of extracting and focusing on the the "best" rather than that which is not desirable.

I thought of this mantra when I pulled out the block of cheese and it had mould on it. I hacked off the nasty bits and ate the rest. And you know what? I didn't die.

I was reminded of this when I was reading A Course in Miracles; I loved the principles but was alienated by the constant reference to Jesus Christ (in places it didn't seem to fit). I mentally replaced the references with God and pulled the spiritual messages out. And it was uplifting.

I deployed this approach with our furball Fritz. I overlook his yappy barking at invisible intruders, his inability to respond to any command other than "sit" (only if I am dangling a treat in front of him), and the fact that he hogs half the bed. Instead I choose to focus on his unconditional love and the sloppy licks he so generously bestows when I walk through the door at the end of the day.

And I hope you do this when you read my blog .... take the best, and leave the rest!

Pushing Through

2011-08-09T23:33:00.000-04:00

It is just days away, your next crack at getting the relief you so desperately need. It’s been getting rougher for you but the pain seems to fuel your resolve. You are the centrepiece of our family; our strength and foundation. It almost broke me seeing you rendered helpless, your body connected to a network of tubes, lines and sensors. But it was an illusion. You were not helpless nor disabled – nor silenced. You pushed through the post op grog to save your own life. Even laid out, drugged, and restrained, you were strong, defiant and in control.

And I just know that it is that very defiance and strength that will push you through the procedure, the pain and the recovery. You will come out the other side - better. I am counting on it.

More Than Half the Fun

2011-08-07T22:48:00.001-04:00

Just returned from another wonderful weekend at the cottage. It was one of the rare trips that didn't include Fritz (our incorrigible miniature schnauzer), so hubby and I had lots of time to get some things done that are just easier to do without the distraction of a hyper-charged, curious yapping fur ball. Yes, I really do love him.

We alternated dips in the lake with ~~trimming~~ slashing the deciduous overgrowth and puttering with tools. Hubby built a ramp to bridge the swamp to the bunkie and I made like a crazy woman yielding a rusted "vintage" pair of garden shears, wildly snipping at anything that dangled my way. It was exhilarating enough to release me of any embarrassment despite the odd look I was tossed by a fellow cottager walking by with her dog. I am not sure of the object of her disdain ... my baggy cargo pants tucked into my rubber boots, or my over-sized safari shirt that covered everything leading into the large suede work gloves. Or maybe it was the fact that it was almost 30 degrees Celsius out and I was a mite overdressed to combat the horse fly-fest.

When I worked myself purple (if only I could really sweat) I tore off the copious layers of clothing, pulled on my bathing suit and tore down to the lake for a plunge. Hubby's family have deep roots on the lake and several uncles/cousins have cottages across the way from us. The one sure way to attract the relatives is to put on a two piece bathing suit. I can sit for hours in my modest one-piece but the moment I don the two-piece (easier to bathe in the lake in) we get company. And it isn't a pretty sight for anyone! [Note to self to wear more clothing.]

Hubby and I had hours to rebuild our cottage from the comfort of our deck chairs, and dream up endless possibilities for the future of our little slice of heaven. We finally decided on a name for the cottage: Falconridge. The overriding characteristic of our cottage experience is the presence of our beloved falcons. We love them even more since they moved to the property next door and aren't constantly swooping us. So Falconridge it is!

As hubby and I continued our cottage reno dreamfest in the car ride home, it occurred once again to me that dreaming is more than half the fun of doing -- and alot less expensive.

Thirty Year Throwback

2011-08-03T23:41:00.001-04:00

At first glance, they are group of strangers; middle aged, graying people with the trials and tribulations of their lives scored into their foreheads and around their mouths. I scan the photos eagerly, searching for recognition, clues of identity that thirty years of absence have buried.

I haven't seen these faces of my college classmates for three decades, and now they smile back at me from tagged images on Facebook. I try to zoom in to read the the blurred name tags on their chests, to no avail. Why can't I recognize anyone? Have I forgotten that I too am a middle aged woman? I click furiously through the photos trying desperately to find the boyish looks that I remember in the grown men before me. Then I get a break -- and make a connection -- oops - that was my "ex". I finally come across some photos with tags. Why is it the minute you see the name, the face becomes instantly recognizable? The image in front of you is supplanted by the one you remember.

I had an easier time with the women. My friend Imbi still had the long deep dimples in her rosy cheeks and Melissa was the same serene beauty she was way back when. It made me a little sad that I had missed the reunion. I often wonder how everyone's lives turned out. We stoked some big dreams thirty years ago and there was an eternal stream of optimism. We left one another, draft scripts in hand, yet to be played out.

Judging from what I could tell, most are enjoying a good run. And there is something satisfying and pleasing in seeing our youthful idealism and ambition cloaked in a softer, wiser (and maybe a little larger) frame. It's kind of like learning how the story turned out. It's all good (and I have a few new Facebook friends).

Back to Business

2011-08-01T23:52:00.001-04:00

It's way past my bedtime; I have to be up tomorrow morning at 5:30 but I am clinging to the last few threads of vacation. It was a wonderful 9 days spent at the lake trapping mice, chasing Fritz and bathing at the dock. It took a few days to get my knickers unknotted and totally unwind and relax. But it wasn't long before I adjusted to the new rhythm of life at the cottage - waking up after sunrise and after the smell of coffee brewing permeated the room, deciding whether to drink that coffee on the deck or the dock, with the toughest decision being what swimsuit to wear. And did I mention the perfect, pristine weather of sunny days, high temps and cool nights and absolutely no humidity.

Ah yes - it was grand indeed. And now I am home, tan lines intact, laundry done, lunch for tomorrow made and ready to face the week ahead. When we pulled away up the rustic pathway that we call the cottage road, away from the peace and tranquility of our special hideaway I had that fleeting moment of disbelief that this dream of ours is real, and that I am so very fortunate to live it.

So to end this vacation week on a high note, I will close with a note of gratitude for these precious days of relaxation and also for a job I love so much.

And I wish all my blogger friends peace wherever you may be.

Mastering the Art of Relaxation

2011-07-29T22:12:00.001-04:00

The forecast called for thunderstorms last night and today. Not a drop of rain fell; in fact, quite the contrary - the weather was absolutely perfect. This week spent at the cottage has truly been a gift (a huge contrast to the rainy, cold week we spent here last September). The days have been lazy (for me – not as much for hubby who spent a few days in plumbing/repair hell), with many hours spent gazing up at fluffy clouds until they resemble the profile of an old man, or the African continent.

I had almost forgotten the art of daydreaming. I can remember as a child spending endless hours on my back in the grass with my sisters or cousins just staring up at the sky. We were content in the silence which would only be broken when someone spotted “something” in the clouds. Our imaginations were finely tuned and sparked with boundless possibilities. We built stories around the imagery … and in between, we closed our eyes to feel the summer breezes flutter on our eyelids and the sun warm our faces.

That was me on the dock today. I laid back, breathing deeply, aware of every breath and gazed upwards. When the notion took me, I closed my eyes to really hear everything around me: the falcon’s babies shrilled from their nest; the chipmunks clucked and broke branches as they scampered through the forest and the motor of a boat whined in the distance. My senses were heightened and my mind was clear.

I suppose that is what it means to truly relax, to be in the moment. It is an act of loosening, letting go and letting in. I think this vacation stuff is working its magic. I am immersed in nature and bliss – and for that I am truly grateful.

The Lake

2011-07-27T11:14:00.001-04:00

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Life at the Lake

2011-07-26T20:14:00.002-04:00

There's nothing like an evening swim in the lake to wash off the grime of the day. No fancy body washes needed; a quick lather with my organic shampoo and a swim to the island to rinse and I am all set. My skin is soft with a lingering outdoors scent of the lake.

Life is simple here at the lake. Quiet and still - save the rustling of the leaves overhead, the pecking of the nuthatches and the song of the chickadees. The water laps against the dock and the canoe bobs alongside. A dog barks in the distance and soon the calls of the loon will serenade us to sleep.

Life at the lake is simple and good. And we still have five days of vacation left.

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Proof of Life

2011-07-22T10:03:00.001-04:00

Yesterday was the hottest day in recorded history for our region. The temperature hit 40 degrees C, and with the humidex, it felt like almost 50 degrees. That's what I love about living in our climate; the polar extremes of HOT in the summer and FREEZING in the winter. I enjoy the variations and changes that come with the seasons, and because we have four of them, we are pretty much in a constant state of flux and transition.

That's alot like life. We are slowly transitioning from one season to another and along the way we encounter unexpected storms and events, and extreme highs and lows - joy and pain. We weather through them and try our best to appreciate the gifts that each has to offer, racking up the experience garnered from the stormy times as accumulated wisdom, rendering us more "prepared" for the next time.

In the sweltering heat yesterday, but in the comfort of air conditioning, the fam gathered to celebrated my step mom's (henceforth to be known as Mama T) birthday. No one loves her birthday more than Mama T and gets downright giddy, bubbling over at the cake, candles, presents and photo ops with the family celebs. There are always lots of "oooo's" and "aaahhhh's", "THANK you's" and "love it's". It's a refreshing change from our societal omnipresent dread of aging and birthdays. You can choose to make birthdays a marker of how OLD you are or you can celebrate them as a marker -a gift - of yet ANOTHER year lived and enjoyed. Birthdays are milestones that someone, somewhere in the world will never reach. They are proof of life.

So last night amidst cupcakes (thanks Sis), turkey, homemade fries, ice cream cake, shrimp, chicken wings (thanks Pop), BBQ burgers (thanks Hubby) and a glass or three of wine, we came together as one, and celebrated. Cause every life deserves to be celebrated, and every season enjoyed.

Hot Water

2011-07-18T23:50:00.002-04:00

Life is simple at the cottage; we have indoor plumbing but no hot water. It's not a huge problem -- I clean up in the lake and on occasion have been known to take quick, "refreshing" showers. But hubby bought a midget sized hot water heater to replace the defunct, rusted version that sits under the decking now. The only problem is that the job to hook up the new one is not straight forward and requires some tools that need to be mustered. It's comforting to know that someday, the water will run hot and steamy.

Last weekend as hubby and I lounged lazily on the deck at the cottage after a morning of swimming and sunning (me) and clearing (him), we received a text from my daughter informing us that there was no hot water at home. We looked at one another trying to conceal our mutual panic. I jumped on the phone to confirm my suspicions and hubby starting closing up the windows ...

The hot water tank had flooded the basement. With three hours to home, our daughter held back the tidal wave with the shop vac and a tidy selection of towels while Kidlet rescued her hockey equipment from harm.

The little episode cut our weekend a little short but we were grateful that the damage was minimal. Lucky us. I won't tell you where we keep our horseshoe!

As I search for the gift and lesson in this little adversity, I can only conclude that it seems the universe is taking heroic measures to keep us out of hot water.

Squeaks, Squeals and Wine

2011-07-17T22:43:00.001-04:00

Mouse, Marg, Jill and I. When we were 13 years old we used to eat our peanut butter cups and Delmonte puddings together every day. We stayed tight through high school and kept in touch as our lives took us all in different cities and in different directions.

Over the years the weave loosened but stayed intact; we saw each other less often and not all together. But we had our pipeline and the town we grew up in to keep us connected. In the past 12 years the only time the four of us were together in one place was at the funerals of our mothers. All four of us lost a parent within a two year period. Sadly Mouse's hubby passed from cancer six months ago, and once again we congregated. We decided that very day to meet in the summer on happier grounds to enjoy one another.

The happier grounds was our cottage. We finagled our work schedules, made child care arrangements, and cleared our calendars to make it happen. We did, and it did not disappoint.

The worries about snakes and spiders was for naught HOWEVER my inherent dislike for mice was tested to the max! They seemed to pop out all over the darn place. We shrieked! We chased! We cornered and captured - and we split our guts laughing. And by the time I slipped my foot into my weathered TOMS to feel ~~find~~ a mouse sleeping in the toe, I was done - immune - depleted and over my phobia!

The girls and I spent a whole day dockside comparing spider veins where the heck did they come from?, reassuring one another that we'd come a long way, rehashing juicy stories from our teens years, comparing notes on raising daughters (we all have girls) and generally exhausting the goodness out of our absolutely perfect summer's day together. Marg said the weather was heaven sent and that our deceased loved ones ordered it so we could have some special time together. Lovely thought.

All I know is that when I listen to Marg tell a funny story complete with full on imitations and hear her laugh as only she can, it is the voice of my teenaged friend I hear. When I look into the tiny face of my dear friend Mouse with her sparkling eyes and mischievous grin, I see the girl I spend my childhood with. And at the end of the night as Jill and I share parting thoughts of the day that trail off into slumber, we are roommates yet again. So much has changed but at the very core of it all, we haven't.

The refrigerator bulged, our bellies followed suit and after our festivities, the recycling bin was pretty much full. The time flew by too quickly but we cherished every second. We agreed to try our best to make it an annual tradition. I just hope we will be able to find stuff to talk about. : )

Mouse and Marg wondering if dinner can be served dockside.

YUP!

Chillin Jill

Marg in training

Reflections

Tranquility in waiting

A Reunion to Remember

2011-07-13T11:05:00.001-04:00

The weekend is coming early this week! I have the next few days off and am heading to the cottage to spend it with three very special gal pals. We have been friends since grade seven when we would congregate at the exact same table for lunch every day to unwrap tidy little packages of goodness, swap gossip and share laughs. Jill and I had already been friends for a few years when we moved to the big school for grades 7 and 8. We naturally attached ourselves to Marg and Mouse (she is tiny and nibbles her food) and together we were a fierce foursome.

Now after decades have passed, we remain friends; we have shared the thrills and chills of life; seen each other through marriages, divorces, mothering and buried loved ones. When we are together, it is as though time has frozen us into our 16 yr old selves. The teasing is relentless; the laughter overflowing and the comfort of being with people who have known you as a child - priceless.

I have been looking forward to this reunion for a long time and I just know it won't disappoint. I just have to make sure Mouse doesn't get a glimpse of the dock spiders (or any spiders for that matter) and that Marg doesn't learn about the poisonous snake that our lake is named after (she has a snake phobia). I just hope Jill doesn't take me out foraging for nuts and seeds in keeping with her Paleo diet and that the steaks will do.

I have been blessed with an abundance of love and companionship in this life. And for that, I am truly grateful. Now -- let the weekend begin!