Forty-nine years and 1 day ago I gave birth to my first daughter. I was only 17 myself so this little girl had a rough road ahead of her with both of us growing up at the same time.
Kim has always been a pleasure. She was a good little girl, smart, funny, and a talented artist (she got that last part from her father). Any problems we had was because I was an immature mother learning as I went.
She got married at 22 and gave me my first grandchild 4 years later. I don't think anything on this earth had ever made me happier than to have that precious little bundle handed to me. I had matured.
Kim isn't happy that she's reached the ripe old age of 49 and that 50 is laughing in her face but I hope she learns, as I did, that age really and truly is a state of mind. If you're on the far side of 50 and still having fun then you've got it made. You've got all the wisdom of your years and, if you actually were able to go back to your youth, you would probably choose not to.
Youth is just too hard to deal with. Believe me, you need all that strength and stupidity to get through it.
Anyway, chin up Kim. You look great, you're smart, funny, and you've got all of us!
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
New Baby in the Family
We have a large, loving, and very involved family so it's no wonder that we're all excited about a new baby joining our clan. This little boy or girl (no-one knows or no-one's telling) will make it's arrival some time in October.
My niece sent me pictures of the latest ultrasound and baby is already 12" long so he/she is going to be a tall one. The parents are both tall and gorgeous so we're expecting a pretty fantastic baby.
One of the most wonderful things about a new baby is the softness of their skin. I love to let the little one nestle into my neck because the feel of that brand new baby skin is intoxicating.
Bringing a new baby into the family can solidify that family. We have showers to welcome him/her and all the family congregates in a show of love and support. It's a nice feeling to look around you and see so many people you are connected to by blood or marriage, all there for the purpose of bonding to the new member.
It's usually the women in the family who establish and carry out these early rituals, most of the men being content to wait until the child is old enough to carry on a conversation. But men of today are becoming less intimidated by a newborn and more willing to become involved from the beginning.
I remember when my children and my grandchildren were newborns and how I could sit for hours and just stare at their little faces. The sheer miracle of their presence absolutely fascinated me.
I'm looking forward to nuzzling and staring sometime in October.
My niece sent me pictures of the latest ultrasound and baby is already 12" long so he/she is going to be a tall one. The parents are both tall and gorgeous so we're expecting a pretty fantastic baby.
One of the most wonderful things about a new baby is the softness of their skin. I love to let the little one nestle into my neck because the feel of that brand new baby skin is intoxicating.
Bringing a new baby into the family can solidify that family. We have showers to welcome him/her and all the family congregates in a show of love and support. It's a nice feeling to look around you and see so many people you are connected to by blood or marriage, all there for the purpose of bonding to the new member.
It's usually the women in the family who establish and carry out these early rituals, most of the men being content to wait until the child is old enough to carry on a conversation. But men of today are becoming less intimidated by a newborn and more willing to become involved from the beginning.
I remember when my children and my grandchildren were newborns and how I could sit for hours and just stare at their little faces. The sheer miracle of their presence absolutely fascinated me.
I'm looking forward to nuzzling and staring sometime in October.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Mothers Who Murder Their Children
A young mother in Texas has hung her four children, killing three of them, and then committed suicide. When I read of something like this happening my heart goes out to the mother as well as the innocent children.
Unlike people who kill out of anger, greed, or just for the thrill, I can comprehend why this poor woman did what she did. I can fully imagine the depths of inability to cope anymore and the false conviction that her children would be better off dying with her.
Life can be so difficult and some of it is spent in despair and heartbreak. Luckily most of us are able to survive those moments and things really do get better given time. This woman fell too deeply into that dark pit and it swallowed her up.
In the years I lived with depression there was never a time I considered killing anyone but myself. But I remember being unable to think clearly during the bad times and that's what drove this woman to commit these horrible crimes.
We'll all grieve for the children but let's allow a portion of grief for their poor lost mother, too.
Unlike people who kill out of anger, greed, or just for the thrill, I can comprehend why this poor woman did what she did. I can fully imagine the depths of inability to cope anymore and the false conviction that her children would be better off dying with her.
Life can be so difficult and some of it is spent in despair and heartbreak. Luckily most of us are able to survive those moments and things really do get better given time. This woman fell too deeply into that dark pit and it swallowed her up.
In the years I lived with depression there was never a time I considered killing anyone but myself. But I remember being unable to think clearly during the bad times and that's what drove this woman to commit these horrible crimes.
We'll all grieve for the children but let's allow a portion of grief for their poor lost mother, too.
To Kyle...On Native Land Claims
A man named Kyle has been responding to my blogs on native land claims and giving me some interesting history lessons. This blog is directed at him because I don't know any other way of reaching him.
Hello Kyle:
I've been very impressed with your responses. They are heart felt but you haven't shown anger towards me for my views and I'm thankful for that.
Blogging is a way for all of us to put forth our thoughts on many subjects that interest us and one of the biggest threats these days to the peaceful day to day living in Canada is the disruptions by the natives. My goal was to express how these disruptions affect the non-natives of this country.
Please understand, Kyle, that my sympathies have always been with the natives for what they lost 200 years ago. My ancestors didn't arrive in Canada until the early 1900's so they didn't steal anyone's land. In fact, they came to Canada because they lost their own in Ireland and immigrated here to try to rebuild their lives.
Many generations of immigrants came to Canada for just this reason, worked hard, bought land legally, and are responsible for creating the country we have today. Natives, on the other hand, chose to remain on reservations where they stagnated. That is one of the reasons I've hated the reservations because I believe they stifled the growth of the natives.
My understanding of the years native children were torn away from their families and put in residential schools is that religious groups, who had tremendous influence on the government in those days, were the perpetrators. It was one of the most shameful things our government has ever been responsible for and we should never forget it happened. Non-native children in regular orphanages in those years suffered the same hell and we should never forget that, either.
What I'm trying to explain, Kyle, is that this is today, not 200 years ago, and natives can not hold today's citizens hostage to the wrongs done hundreds of years ago. We resent it deeply.
I'm very grateful that you took the time to respond and that you did so with dignity. I hope I've been able to make you understand how the other side feels in this ongoing drama, too.
Hello Kyle:
I've been very impressed with your responses. They are heart felt but you haven't shown anger towards me for my views and I'm thankful for that.
Blogging is a way for all of us to put forth our thoughts on many subjects that interest us and one of the biggest threats these days to the peaceful day to day living in Canada is the disruptions by the natives. My goal was to express how these disruptions affect the non-natives of this country.
Please understand, Kyle, that my sympathies have always been with the natives for what they lost 200 years ago. My ancestors didn't arrive in Canada until the early 1900's so they didn't steal anyone's land. In fact, they came to Canada because they lost their own in Ireland and immigrated here to try to rebuild their lives.
Many generations of immigrants came to Canada for just this reason, worked hard, bought land legally, and are responsible for creating the country we have today. Natives, on the other hand, chose to remain on reservations where they stagnated. That is one of the reasons I've hated the reservations because I believe they stifled the growth of the natives.
My understanding of the years native children were torn away from their families and put in residential schools is that religious groups, who had tremendous influence on the government in those days, were the perpetrators. It was one of the most shameful things our government has ever been responsible for and we should never forget it happened. Non-native children in regular orphanages in those years suffered the same hell and we should never forget that, either.
What I'm trying to explain, Kyle, is that this is today, not 200 years ago, and natives can not hold today's citizens hostage to the wrongs done hundreds of years ago. We resent it deeply.
I'm very grateful that you took the time to respond and that you did so with dignity. I hope I've been able to make you understand how the other side feels in this ongoing drama, too.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Google Ads
I've been investigating a bit more of what blogger.com has to offer us bloggers and have noticed that some people have ads on their blogs. I checked into it and managed to figure out how to put ads on mine (they pay) and today I earned 24 cents because 1 person clicked on the ad. Isn't this amazing?
It's also possible that they count the number of people who just read my blog but don't click on the ad and that somehow results in payment, too. It's still quite a mystery to me but at least I'm 24 cents richer today.
The biggest problem with these ads is that I don't get to choose which ones I want. Google just puts them on randomly and at whim depending on what my blog topics have been. Apparently they decided my blogs about the native sit-ins in Caledonia and Hagersville warrant a few ads selling native paraphernalia. They've also put some diaper ads in because I had one blog titled "Just a Diaper Ride Away" about the astronaught who wore a diaper when she went after her boyfriend's lover, and another blog about die-hards wearing diapers at the casino so they don't have to leave their seats. Someone isn't reading the content of my blogs before they assign me an ad.
Anyway, I'm going to play around with my blog titles and see if I can manipulate the ads I get. Like "Condom Minium" or "Death of a Petunia". What fun!
It's also possible that they count the number of people who just read my blog but don't click on the ad and that somehow results in payment, too. It's still quite a mystery to me but at least I'm 24 cents richer today.
The biggest problem with these ads is that I don't get to choose which ones I want. Google just puts them on randomly and at whim depending on what my blog topics have been. Apparently they decided my blogs about the native sit-ins in Caledonia and Hagersville warrant a few ads selling native paraphernalia. They've also put some diaper ads in because I had one blog titled "Just a Diaper Ride Away" about the astronaught who wore a diaper when she went after her boyfriend's lover, and another blog about die-hards wearing diapers at the casino so they don't have to leave their seats. Someone isn't reading the content of my blogs before they assign me an ad.
Anyway, I'm going to play around with my blog titles and see if I can manipulate the ads I get. Like "Condom Minium" or "Death of a Petunia". What fun!
Defining Moments
We have many defining moments in our lives...you know, the ones where the light suddenly comes on and we can see our situation clearly.
Some of the most important ones are the moment when you fall in love, or the moment you know the love has gone. And what about the moment when you realize you've made a life changing mistake? Or even the moment you realize that no matter what you do you're going to fall.
Sometimes the defining moment is just a matter of your mind slipping through all the garbage, hopes, dreams, and mental blindness until you can't escape the truth. Clarity can be startling.
One of the nicest defining moments you can experience is that elusive thought that starts as a tiny seed in your mind until it reaches full bloom and you know that at this moment in time you are happy.
Some of the most important ones are the moment when you fall in love, or the moment you know the love has gone. And what about the moment when you realize you've made a life changing mistake? Or even the moment you realize that no matter what you do you're going to fall.
Sometimes the defining moment is just a matter of your mind slipping through all the garbage, hopes, dreams, and mental blindness until you can't escape the truth. Clarity can be startling.
One of the nicest defining moments you can experience is that elusive thought that starts as a tiny seed in your mind until it reaches full bloom and you know that at this moment in time you are happy.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Who's to Blame
I talked to a lady today who is broken hearted because her brother is a drug addict, drug dealer, depressed, and suicidal. She blames his mother, his friends, and his pain (caused by being shot in a drug deal).
At what point should this man take responsibility for his own situation?
Too often we wallow in a mess of our own making and, instead of taking steps to break away, accept that it's too late and there's nothing we can do about it. Been there, done that. Most of us have at one time or another.
Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a supportive family or good friends who lift us up instead of dragging us down. In that case, the onus is on us ourselves to find the strength to crawl out of the hole and succeed against heavy odds.
I have seen people who started out in life with every cross imaginable to bear but they've chosen to become productive adults who now live the good life. They could have settled for what their parents had but they didn't. Where does the strength of character come from in people like these? And why do others fall weakly by the wayside?
I've often wondered how black people manage to succeed when just the color of their skin closes so many doors to them and I've come to the conclusion that the secret is a strong pride in yourself that makes the difference.
If you have enough justifiable pride (not false or arrogant pride), you won't settle for being held down and you won't choose a lifestyle that is harmful to you.
The man I spoke about made many bad choices from childhood on and that's why he is where he is today. We are a product of the choices we make, whether they are for our good or not. And in the end we have to personally accept the credit or the blame for the finished product.
At what point should this man take responsibility for his own situation?
Too often we wallow in a mess of our own making and, instead of taking steps to break away, accept that it's too late and there's nothing we can do about it. Been there, done that. Most of us have at one time or another.
Not everyone is fortunate enough to have a supportive family or good friends who lift us up instead of dragging us down. In that case, the onus is on us ourselves to find the strength to crawl out of the hole and succeed against heavy odds.
I have seen people who started out in life with every cross imaginable to bear but they've chosen to become productive adults who now live the good life. They could have settled for what their parents had but they didn't. Where does the strength of character come from in people like these? And why do others fall weakly by the wayside?
I've often wondered how black people manage to succeed when just the color of their skin closes so many doors to them and I've come to the conclusion that the secret is a strong pride in yourself that makes the difference.
If you have enough justifiable pride (not false or arrogant pride), you won't settle for being held down and you won't choose a lifestyle that is harmful to you.
The man I spoke about made many bad choices from childhood on and that's why he is where he is today. We are a product of the choices we make, whether they are for our good or not. And in the end we have to personally accept the credit or the blame for the finished product.
Dogs in the House
I can't believe how much I've enjoyed having my daughter's Jack Russells in the house. I'd forgotten how tuned into you your dog becomes, watching your every move and following you from room to room. I've chattered away to them since they got here and don't know who I'll chatter to when they leave today for their own home.
It's been raining and these dogs don't know enough to steer clear of my garden so I worried they'd track dirt and mud into the house but they stop dutifully when they come in and let me wipe their feet. So cute!
Last night I thought of closing them into the bathroom because I wasn't sure they'd hold their piddle but, because they stay so close to me, decided to have them just sleep on the floor in my bedroom. Baker chose to sleep under the bed and Bailey slept beside the bed with her head under it. So darned cute!
Baker has also settled in and isn't quite as nervous as she was at first. Her little ears have become unclamped from her head, thank heavens. I hate to see a frightened dog or animal of any kind.
Pets are a gift to human beings and good pet owners know how lucky they are to have found their special companion. It's not possible to clearly explain how precious these little creatures are and how much they contribute to our lives. A home without a pet is less of a home.
When little Bailey and Baker leave me today they'll take some of the warmth out of my house. I'll be looking forward to seeing them again real soon!
It's been raining and these dogs don't know enough to steer clear of my garden so I worried they'd track dirt and mud into the house but they stop dutifully when they come in and let me wipe their feet. So cute!
Last night I thought of closing them into the bathroom because I wasn't sure they'd hold their piddle but, because they stay so close to me, decided to have them just sleep on the floor in my bedroom. Baker chose to sleep under the bed and Bailey slept beside the bed with her head under it. So darned cute!
Baker has also settled in and isn't quite as nervous as she was at first. Her little ears have become unclamped from her head, thank heavens. I hate to see a frightened dog or animal of any kind.
Pets are a gift to human beings and good pet owners know how lucky they are to have found their special companion. It's not possible to clearly explain how precious these little creatures are and how much they contribute to our lives. A home without a pet is less of a home.
When little Bailey and Baker leave me today they'll take some of the warmth out of my house. I'll be looking forward to seeing them again real soon!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Still Under the Weather
Well, that good feeling this morning didn't last and now I really feel as though I have the flu. It has apparently hit 2 of the men working in the basement, too, so we must have all caught the same bug. This too shall pass!
I'm babysitting my daughter's 2 little ones tonight. They're cute little Jack Russell terriers but old enough to have lost most of the friskiness that comes with the breed. The nice thing about dogsitting is that they'll nap right along with you if you're not feeling well.
The dogs have vastly different personalities. Bailey is the oldest and most dominant. Nothing much scares her and she's curious as all get out about the men working in the basement.
Baker is very timid. She's given up barking every time she hears the men go in and out of the back door but she still seems to cringe a lot. Even when I reach for her, which breaks my heart. She follows bravely behind Bailey when she goes to investigate anything but never leads the investigation.
My dog, Corky, was timid, too, and didn't like you to stare directly into his eyes. I guess that's an intimidation gesture. That doesn't bother Bailey and Baker, though...they'll come right up to you if they see you looking at them.
It's nice having dogs in the house again. They're a good excuse if you find you're talking to yourself. Just add on to the end of the sentence, "Isn't that right, Bailey?".
I'm babysitting my daughter's 2 little ones tonight. They're cute little Jack Russell terriers but old enough to have lost most of the friskiness that comes with the breed. The nice thing about dogsitting is that they'll nap right along with you if you're not feeling well.
The dogs have vastly different personalities. Bailey is the oldest and most dominant. Nothing much scares her and she's curious as all get out about the men working in the basement.
Baker is very timid. She's given up barking every time she hears the men go in and out of the back door but she still seems to cringe a lot. Even when I reach for her, which breaks my heart. She follows bravely behind Bailey when she goes to investigate anything but never leads the investigation.
My dog, Corky, was timid, too, and didn't like you to stare directly into his eyes. I guess that's an intimidation gesture. That doesn't bother Bailey and Baker, though...they'll come right up to you if they see you looking at them.
It's nice having dogs in the house again. They're a good excuse if you find you're talking to yourself. Just add on to the end of the sentence, "Isn't that right, Bailey?".
So I Slept
Every once in a while I don't feel quite right...you know what I mean? My equilibrium feels slightly off but I can't pinpoint exactly what's wrong.
For the last 2 days I've been desperately needing sleep through the day and that rarely happens so I knew something was going on "inside". Thursday evening I went to bed at 6:30 P.M. and slept till 5:30 A.M. (with 2 interruptions for the bathroom). Then on Friday I slept from noon till 4:30 P.M., played on the computer till 8 P.M. and went back to bed.
Today, Saturday, I feel like my old self. Isn't it wonderful how the body will heal itself if we just rest and let it do it's job?
By the way, I just used spell check and discovered I'm slightly farther from perfect than I'd thought! Thanks to sister-in-law, Joyce, I've just developed a new complex!
For the last 2 days I've been desperately needing sleep through the day and that rarely happens so I knew something was going on "inside". Thursday evening I went to bed at 6:30 P.M. and slept till 5:30 A.M. (with 2 interruptions for the bathroom). Then on Friday I slept from noon till 4:30 P.M., played on the computer till 8 P.M. and went back to bed.
Today, Saturday, I feel like my old self. Isn't it wonderful how the body will heal itself if we just rest and let it do it's job?
By the way, I just used spell check and discovered I'm slightly farther from perfect than I'd thought! Thanks to sister-in-law, Joyce, I've just developed a new complex!
Friday, May 25, 2007
More on Native Land Claims
I know I'm not the most knowledgable person when it comes to trying to figure out native land claims but I speak from the heart when I say there has to be an end to the dispruptions before someone else is killed.
All of us have ancestors who were cheated out of their land or property. That's what happened to the poor of every race, nationality, or creed. There's no doubt it was wrong but hundreds of years have passed and it's time to realize that this is a different world and it's impossible to right the wrongs for everyone.
I do know that the natives are perpetuating unfair hardships on all Canadians with their demands. They've taken away a sense of peace and security that we shouldn't have to deal with in the year 2007 for something our ancestors did 200 years ago. To be honest, the natives of that time freely sold land for the money they received. Dollars meant more to them than the "good earth". There is probably not a square foot of the disputed land that today's natives have earned with their own labor.
We're all paying in some way for the mistakes of our ancestors...but we've also gained in many ways from their hard work. Is it too much to ask that we stop all this infighting which is driving our separate cultures apart instead of bringing them together? I can't even imagine how difficult it is for the natives in Caledonia when they leave the reservation and go into town. No-one should have to live that way.
I've always hated the thought of reservations because they secluded a group of people who could have been assimilated into the general population without losing their culture. I truly believe that the reservations are the worst possible places for natives to stay. Segregation breeds hostility. By living among more than one culture we can learn from each other.
Simply put...let's live together in peace and let the past go.
All of us have ancestors who were cheated out of their land or property. That's what happened to the poor of every race, nationality, or creed. There's no doubt it was wrong but hundreds of years have passed and it's time to realize that this is a different world and it's impossible to right the wrongs for everyone.
I do know that the natives are perpetuating unfair hardships on all Canadians with their demands. They've taken away a sense of peace and security that we shouldn't have to deal with in the year 2007 for something our ancestors did 200 years ago. To be honest, the natives of that time freely sold land for the money they received. Dollars meant more to them than the "good earth". There is probably not a square foot of the disputed land that today's natives have earned with their own labor.
We're all paying in some way for the mistakes of our ancestors...but we've also gained in many ways from their hard work. Is it too much to ask that we stop all this infighting which is driving our separate cultures apart instead of bringing them together? I can't even imagine how difficult it is for the natives in Caledonia when they leave the reservation and go into town. No-one should have to live that way.
I've always hated the thought of reservations because they secluded a group of people who could have been assimilated into the general population without losing their culture. I truly believe that the reservations are the worst possible places for natives to stay. Segregation breeds hostility. By living among more than one culture we can learn from each other.
Simply put...let's live together in peace and let the past go.
Hagersville Native Land Claim
It seems the natives haven't got much else to do but wander around the country looking to disturb the progress of the working people.
A developer bought land in Hagersville, Ontario to build townhouses but natives quickly occupied the land as one they say they have a claim to. Work was shut down and a developer who thought he'd legally bought the property is now sitting in a limbo created by the Canadian government.
I wonder how many Canadians feel as I do that we have no laws protecting us anymore. Who knows, maybe the home you've lived in for 50 years is sitting on land that the natives will one day decide is theirs. You'll pay property taxes every year you live in your house but, if a native decides it's theirs, not a single level of Canadian government will protect your rights.
I don't want to hear about the government speeding up settlement of native land claims anymore. What I want to hear is that our government, the one our taxes pay for, is going to stop allowing natives to break the laws of the land.
When anyone else feels they have a property claim, they hire a lawyer and sue. There is a trial and the lawsuit is either won or lost. Who ever heard of a trial lasting 200 years? If anything, the natives of 200 years ago had only squatter's rights to the land so why are we in this day and age spending so much time, money, and energy on the native land claims?
It's been evident that we don't know exactly what is involved in the native claims and why natives have been allowed to constantly break the laws without punishment but when will it end? If a decision is made that they won't accept (or their descendents 200 years down the road won't accept) then the sit-ins and disruptions will go on forever unless they are made to abide by the law just as the rest of us are.
It's time the Canadian government took a stand so that the rest of it's citizens can regain assurety that OUR rights will be protected.
A developer bought land in Hagersville, Ontario to build townhouses but natives quickly occupied the land as one they say they have a claim to. Work was shut down and a developer who thought he'd legally bought the property is now sitting in a limbo created by the Canadian government.
I wonder how many Canadians feel as I do that we have no laws protecting us anymore. Who knows, maybe the home you've lived in for 50 years is sitting on land that the natives will one day decide is theirs. You'll pay property taxes every year you live in your house but, if a native decides it's theirs, not a single level of Canadian government will protect your rights.
I don't want to hear about the government speeding up settlement of native land claims anymore. What I want to hear is that our government, the one our taxes pay for, is going to stop allowing natives to break the laws of the land.
When anyone else feels they have a property claim, they hire a lawyer and sue. There is a trial and the lawsuit is either won or lost. Who ever heard of a trial lasting 200 years? If anything, the natives of 200 years ago had only squatter's rights to the land so why are we in this day and age spending so much time, money, and energy on the native land claims?
It's been evident that we don't know exactly what is involved in the native claims and why natives have been allowed to constantly break the laws without punishment but when will it end? If a decision is made that they won't accept (or their descendents 200 years down the road won't accept) then the sit-ins and disruptions will go on forever unless they are made to abide by the law just as the rest of us are.
It's time the Canadian government took a stand so that the rest of it's citizens can regain assurety that OUR rights will be protected.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Stomach
My sister-in-law, Joyce mentioned yesterday that she has always wondered why I spelled "stomach" wrong. I argued with her that I'd never spelled "stomache" wrong and she didn't know what she was talking about.
Then we got out the dictionary and I had to admit I wasn't perfect.
Maybe I should use the spellcheck doodledad on this page before I publish it but then I'd be really perfect and hard to live with.
Then we got out the dictionary and I had to admit I wasn't perfect.
Maybe I should use the spellcheck doodledad on this page before I publish it but then I'd be really perfect and hard to live with.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Losing a Child/Losing Yourself
One of the worst losses any of us could face is the loss of a child. It doesn't matter if the child is 4 or 40, the loss can be devastating. My sister-in-law, Joyce and her husband, Larry, experienced this tragic loss when Joyce's daughter, Susan, passed away from breast cancer at the age of 38.
Susan was one of those special people who lit up a room when she walked in. She and her husband, Larry (we called him "young Larry" and Joyce's husband was always "big Larry") were Joyce and Larry's best friends. The whole family was heart broken when Susan was diagnosed with breast cancer but we trusted the doctors who performed the surgery and declared they'd "gotten it all".
Well, it turned out they hadn't gotten it all and Susan passed away leaving a 4 year old son and an 8 year old daughter. Her passing also took the heart and soul out of her mother. Joyce carried on by giving everything she had to the care of Susan's children but it seemed the joy had disappeared from her personality.
We used to have brother/sister dinner parties a few times a year in those days. My husband's brothers and sisters who lived nearby would take turns having these dinner parties which were always so much fun because most of us had a long history of friendship as well as being related.
The dinner that seemed to change our lives happened at my house. Joyce had come over early to help me prepare and we were both working away in my small kitchen. It's U-shaped with no room for a table but it's just off the diningroom. I had a big pot of speghetti sauce and a big pot of speghetti noodles simmering on the stove while Joyce busied herself making salad.
My plan was to drain the noodles and put them in the microwave to reheat just before serving dinner. I drained them and was heading for the microwave which was next to Joyce when I suddenly slipped on water which had dripped on the ceramic tile floor. Down I went and it seemed like slow motion as Joyce and I watched the noodles fall on the floor and slide gracefully toward her.
We were frozen in shock, me knowing there were no more noodles in the cupboard, and both of us hearing the front door opening at that moment and my guests arriving.
We started to laugh as we gathered up the noodles and rinsed them in the sink, hoping the arriving relatives wouldn't come into the kitchen. As we giggled and laughed ourselves silly, I started to see the old Joyce coming back. She'd been through hell and survived it. I knew the breakthrough had come about by our ability to laugh in comeraderie over this minor disaster. Whatever passed between us that day helped bring her back and I'll always be grateful for that moment.
The dinner went perfectly but the family were kept wondering why Joyce and I giggled every time we made eye contact. Some members of the family have been made aware what happened that day but we still haven't told the squeamish ones.
Hope they don't read my blog!
Susan was one of those special people who lit up a room when she walked in. She and her husband, Larry (we called him "young Larry" and Joyce's husband was always "big Larry") were Joyce and Larry's best friends. The whole family was heart broken when Susan was diagnosed with breast cancer but we trusted the doctors who performed the surgery and declared they'd "gotten it all".
Well, it turned out they hadn't gotten it all and Susan passed away leaving a 4 year old son and an 8 year old daughter. Her passing also took the heart and soul out of her mother. Joyce carried on by giving everything she had to the care of Susan's children but it seemed the joy had disappeared from her personality.
We used to have brother/sister dinner parties a few times a year in those days. My husband's brothers and sisters who lived nearby would take turns having these dinner parties which were always so much fun because most of us had a long history of friendship as well as being related.
The dinner that seemed to change our lives happened at my house. Joyce had come over early to help me prepare and we were both working away in my small kitchen. It's U-shaped with no room for a table but it's just off the diningroom. I had a big pot of speghetti sauce and a big pot of speghetti noodles simmering on the stove while Joyce busied herself making salad.
My plan was to drain the noodles and put them in the microwave to reheat just before serving dinner. I drained them and was heading for the microwave which was next to Joyce when I suddenly slipped on water which had dripped on the ceramic tile floor. Down I went and it seemed like slow motion as Joyce and I watched the noodles fall on the floor and slide gracefully toward her.
We were frozen in shock, me knowing there were no more noodles in the cupboard, and both of us hearing the front door opening at that moment and my guests arriving.
We started to laugh as we gathered up the noodles and rinsed them in the sink, hoping the arriving relatives wouldn't come into the kitchen. As we giggled and laughed ourselves silly, I started to see the old Joyce coming back. She'd been through hell and survived it. I knew the breakthrough had come about by our ability to laugh in comeraderie over this minor disaster. Whatever passed between us that day helped bring her back and I'll always be grateful for that moment.
The dinner went perfectly but the family were kept wondering why Joyce and I giggled every time we made eye contact. Some members of the family have been made aware what happened that day but we still haven't told the squeamish ones.
Hope they don't read my blog!
Monday, May 21, 2007
We've All Got Problems
I had my nice long well-deserved sleep last night and woke up in a better frame of mind.
We all have problems now and then and the way we deal with them says a lot about our strength of character. I know I'll get through this bad patch because I have to. I am woman, I am strong. And if I ever run into the crappy renovator again he'd better take off in the opposite direction or face the wrath of Pat.
No, that's not true. I'm a wimp and I'll be cool but polite. No apologies...because I am what I am and that's all I am.
We all have problems now and then and the way we deal with them says a lot about our strength of character. I know I'll get through this bad patch because I have to. I am woman, I am strong. And if I ever run into the crappy renovator again he'd better take off in the opposite direction or face the wrath of Pat.
No, that's not true. I'm a wimp and I'll be cool but polite. No apologies...because I am what I am and that's all I am.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Got Problems
This basement just might be the death of me. Just as things were starting to look up we discovered that the guy who originally started the reno and then ran out had not bought enough laminate flooring...about 150 square feet short and it couldn't be matched!
I calmed myself, found out I could return the unused portion to Home Depot for a credit and then re-order enough to complete the rec room and stairs. It wouldn't match what has been laid in the sewing room but that wasn't the end of the world.
Today I wore myself out trying to clear the rec room so that the men would have room to work when I discovered a big problem...at least I think it is. The man who tore down my walls without asking me has replaced part of the rec room walls with particle (?) board instead of drywall. I'm not sure why anyone would do such a thing. I'm overtired and fed up and this latest discovery has hit me hard.
I've been proud of my ability to overcome many years of depression but, when I'm overwhelmed and overtired, I lose confidence in myself to stay strong. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. There is a breaking point no matter how hard you try not to reach it.
The men who have taken over the job have been marvelous but I don't know if they'll have the time to replace those damn walls. It's the busy season for renovators and I'm sure they have other jobs lined up and ready to go. I really think my calm has seen it's last day.
As I was out cutting the grass this afternoon I wondered if maybe trying to look after this house was beyond me and maybe it was time to sell and move into an apartment. I'll go to bed early tonight, have a good sleep, and see how I feel in the morning.
Never, ever try to make important decisions when you're tired, frightened, or grieving. Today I'm tired.
I calmed myself, found out I could return the unused portion to Home Depot for a credit and then re-order enough to complete the rec room and stairs. It wouldn't match what has been laid in the sewing room but that wasn't the end of the world.
Today I wore myself out trying to clear the rec room so that the men would have room to work when I discovered a big problem...at least I think it is. The man who tore down my walls without asking me has replaced part of the rec room walls with particle (?) board instead of drywall. I'm not sure why anyone would do such a thing. I'm overtired and fed up and this latest discovery has hit me hard.
I've been proud of my ability to overcome many years of depression but, when I'm overwhelmed and overtired, I lose confidence in myself to stay strong. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. There is a breaking point no matter how hard you try not to reach it.
The men who have taken over the job have been marvelous but I don't know if they'll have the time to replace those damn walls. It's the busy season for renovators and I'm sure they have other jobs lined up and ready to go. I really think my calm has seen it's last day.
As I was out cutting the grass this afternoon I wondered if maybe trying to look after this house was beyond me and maybe it was time to sell and move into an apartment. I'll go to bed early tonight, have a good sleep, and see how I feel in the morning.
Never, ever try to make important decisions when you're tired, frightened, or grieving. Today I'm tired.
Why War?
Every day on the news we hear of young soldiers being killed, most often in some foreign country. There are so many bombings being reported in countries around the world where one religion is trying to decimate another that I've long wondered what ever happened to the "love" in religion.
Why are we such a warring species? It's one thing to protect your personal property (even then...to kill for it?) but to plant a bomb that rips human beings apart, human beings whose only crime is to follow a religion different from the bomber's, is animalistic.
If you take a close look at the battles going on around the world you'll see that "religion" is at the root of most if not all of them. Religious fanatics are pretty scary people. They aren't able to live comfortably among people of other beliefs so they protect their little plot of earth by murdering anyone who might threaten it. All religions have done this at one time or another.
I don't follow any organized religion because I can't imagine dedicating my life to an entity that allows murder, violence, and cruelty. I do have high hopes that there is some higher power somewhere that will explain to me when I die why so many human beings are savages.
We all have such tiny life spans when you consider eternity so what in our psyches makes us want to spend that precious time in cruel and murderous activity? We seem to carry an ingrained belief that "we" are right and anyone who doesn't agree with us is a danger to us. Talk about a flaw in our personality!!
I doubt there has ever been a time in history when people weren't at war and I don't see any evidence that that will change in the future. If it wasn't for the truly good people I've met in my life I'd just give up hope in the human race but I've come across some saints. Maybe they're the ones who have seen the light and maybe they're the "meek who will inherit the earth". By the looks of things it will take a long time.
Why are we such a warring species? It's one thing to protect your personal property (even then...to kill for it?) but to plant a bomb that rips human beings apart, human beings whose only crime is to follow a religion different from the bomber's, is animalistic.
If you take a close look at the battles going on around the world you'll see that "religion" is at the root of most if not all of them. Religious fanatics are pretty scary people. They aren't able to live comfortably among people of other beliefs so they protect their little plot of earth by murdering anyone who might threaten it. All religions have done this at one time or another.
I don't follow any organized religion because I can't imagine dedicating my life to an entity that allows murder, violence, and cruelty. I do have high hopes that there is some higher power somewhere that will explain to me when I die why so many human beings are savages.
We all have such tiny life spans when you consider eternity so what in our psyches makes us want to spend that precious time in cruel and murderous activity? We seem to carry an ingrained belief that "we" are right and anyone who doesn't agree with us is a danger to us. Talk about a flaw in our personality!!
I doubt there has ever been a time in history when people weren't at war and I don't see any evidence that that will change in the future. If it wasn't for the truly good people I've met in my life I'd just give up hope in the human race but I've come across some saints. Maybe they're the ones who have seen the light and maybe they're the "meek who will inherit the earth". By the looks of things it will take a long time.
Friday, May 18, 2007
My Mess and How I Deal With It
My sister-in-law, Faye, dropped over for a visit yesterday morning and sat shaking her head in awe about the mess I'm living with. It's the basement renovation in case you haven't already read earlier blogs!
From where we sat on the sofa sipping our coffees, you can see piles of basement stuff on the floors, on the tables, and even on some of the furniture in the livingroom and diningroom. It's all overflow from the basement which gives the workers a modicum of space to work in down there.
The rec room is piled to the ceiling with stuff, too, and we're all hoping it will fit into the sewing room once they've finished in there. That will give them space to complete the rec room makeover.
I mentioned to Faye how proud I was of myself that I can keep a clear, cool head amidst all this mess and confusion.
Faye replied, "I just think you have no idea what a mess you're really in!".
Bless her! But she's offered to come and help me clean and straighten once the basement job is complete so I'll forgive her for shoving that hard dose of reality at me.
What keeps me going is the vision I have in my head of a beautifully finished basement with all my "stuff" in it's proper place and lots of empty space to prove that I really am making an attempt to limit new projects that grab my interest.
Faye might snicker but that is my vision, may it see the light of day!
From where we sat on the sofa sipping our coffees, you can see piles of basement stuff on the floors, on the tables, and even on some of the furniture in the livingroom and diningroom. It's all overflow from the basement which gives the workers a modicum of space to work in down there.
The rec room is piled to the ceiling with stuff, too, and we're all hoping it will fit into the sewing room once they've finished in there. That will give them space to complete the rec room makeover.
I mentioned to Faye how proud I was of myself that I can keep a clear, cool head amidst all this mess and confusion.
Faye replied, "I just think you have no idea what a mess you're really in!".
Bless her! But she's offered to come and help me clean and straighten once the basement job is complete so I'll forgive her for shoving that hard dose of reality at me.
What keeps me going is the vision I have in my head of a beautifully finished basement with all my "stuff" in it's proper place and lots of empty space to prove that I really am making an attempt to limit new projects that grab my interest.
Faye might snicker but that is my vision, may it see the light of day!
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Getting Old and Snarky
A few times lately I've had to catch myself from feeling cranky when around teenagers. Especially when the teenagers are obnoxiously loud, wearing nose rings, and sporting orange hair. My first instinct is to think of them as idiots.
Then my inner logic takes hold and I remember a bit what it was like to be a teenager. Those were different and more innocent days but the only difference between teenagers of the 1950's and the teenagers of 2007 is that we were not exposed to the glut of sex and violence we see everywhere now.
Teenagers are only unfinished adults. It's frightening to be 16 and, on the surface, believe you know it all but, underneath, realize you still have little control over your own life. It probably doesn't help that all the adults in your life tell you to forget about having fun and concentrate on getting your education.
But no-body told me that when I was 16 because no-one cared enough about me. Boy, did I have fun...and ended up married and pregnant at 17.
I wish there was a softer way of encouraging teenagers to concentrate more on their education because it will determine the adult life they will live long after their teen years are over.
A young person told me recently that they use marijuana recreationally. How can I explain to them that using marijuana on a regular basis is just as dangerous as getting drunk on a regular basis. The young don't want to be told what they can or can't do so we can only hope that our reasoning doesn't fall on deaf ears.
I remember how often my heart was broken when I was a teenager. Sometimes it was by a boyfriend but more often it was because of less important events...loss of a girlfriend, insult by a stranger, sad book, sad movie. These are minor things in our lives but, as a teenage, I felt the losses strongly enough to make me want to die. Teenagers' emotions are on high volume until they become mature enough to learn how to deal with them.
Now, when I see those orange haired, pierced nosed kids, I can feel my heart soften for the turmoil they're going through. My grandmother used to say that she'd like to be young again but know what she knows now. I couldn't understand that in the 1950's but I do today.
P.S. "Snarky" is a Canadian expression for feeling cranky or crabby. I discovered a few years ago that Americans aren't familiar with that word.
Then my inner logic takes hold and I remember a bit what it was like to be a teenager. Those were different and more innocent days but the only difference between teenagers of the 1950's and the teenagers of 2007 is that we were not exposed to the glut of sex and violence we see everywhere now.
Teenagers are only unfinished adults. It's frightening to be 16 and, on the surface, believe you know it all but, underneath, realize you still have little control over your own life. It probably doesn't help that all the adults in your life tell you to forget about having fun and concentrate on getting your education.
But no-body told me that when I was 16 because no-one cared enough about me. Boy, did I have fun...and ended up married and pregnant at 17.
I wish there was a softer way of encouraging teenagers to concentrate more on their education because it will determine the adult life they will live long after their teen years are over.
A young person told me recently that they use marijuana recreationally. How can I explain to them that using marijuana on a regular basis is just as dangerous as getting drunk on a regular basis. The young don't want to be told what they can or can't do so we can only hope that our reasoning doesn't fall on deaf ears.
I remember how often my heart was broken when I was a teenager. Sometimes it was by a boyfriend but more often it was because of less important events...loss of a girlfriend, insult by a stranger, sad book, sad movie. These are minor things in our lives but, as a teenage, I felt the losses strongly enough to make me want to die. Teenagers' emotions are on high volume until they become mature enough to learn how to deal with them.
Now, when I see those orange haired, pierced nosed kids, I can feel my heart soften for the turmoil they're going through. My grandmother used to say that she'd like to be young again but know what she knows now. I couldn't understand that in the 1950's but I do today.
P.S. "Snarky" is a Canadian expression for feeling cranky or crabby. I discovered a few years ago that Americans aren't familiar with that word.
Another Corky Story
Writing that blog about Corky brought back so many wonderful memories of him. We thought, as most dog owners do, that he was the smartest dog that ever lived. I once wrote 2 full pages of words he understood.
One of the sweetest memories is of the day, not long after he came to live with us, that my daughter thought she should teach him some tricks. They settled in the middle of the livingroom floor and she explained to him what he should do. Corky sat obediently and watched with wise brown eyes as Kim explained "roll over"...she'd lie on her side and roll across the floor. Kim explained "sit up"...she'd stoop down and hold her hands up to look like paws. Kim explained how to "play dead"...she'd flop down on her side and close her eyes.
Corky looked for all the world like a student waiting his turn to try out these amazing new tricks but when Kim tried to get him to do them he'd just sit and look at her. After many frustrating attempts to show this stupid dog how to accomplish the tricks that all dogs seem to know how to do, Kim went into the kitchen to get some cheese, hoping that would help encourage him.
As she walked back into the livingroom, Corky smelled the cheese and, before she even got back to him, immediately began doing all the tricks she'd shown him.
Now, who was the dumb animal?
Corky was so smart that you could show him any brand of shampoo and the only one he'd respond to was "baby shampoo". He'd run and hide because he knew that's what we used to bathe him.
He could talk. When he wanted to go outside he'd go and sit by the door. If we didn't notice him he'd bounce around a bit and say "out". I swear!
When my grandchildren walked around with cookie in hand, he'd stalk them until he saw his chance. He'd ever so gently take a piece of the cookie in his teeth and carefully slip it out of the baby's hand without the baby noticing.
He loved to help us carry in groceries. He could carry in a pound of butter without piercing the foil wrapping! That was the Lab in him.
There are so many great memories of the years we were lucky enough to have this dog. I even have an original ink drawing of him framed and displayed in my house. If I had one of those family portrait walls that you see in some houses his picture would be right there with them. After all, he was a member of our family for 15 years.
One of the sweetest memories is of the day, not long after he came to live with us, that my daughter thought she should teach him some tricks. They settled in the middle of the livingroom floor and she explained to him what he should do. Corky sat obediently and watched with wise brown eyes as Kim explained "roll over"...she'd lie on her side and roll across the floor. Kim explained "sit up"...she'd stoop down and hold her hands up to look like paws. Kim explained how to "play dead"...she'd flop down on her side and close her eyes.
Corky looked for all the world like a student waiting his turn to try out these amazing new tricks but when Kim tried to get him to do them he'd just sit and look at her. After many frustrating attempts to show this stupid dog how to accomplish the tricks that all dogs seem to know how to do, Kim went into the kitchen to get some cheese, hoping that would help encourage him.
As she walked back into the livingroom, Corky smelled the cheese and, before she even got back to him, immediately began doing all the tricks she'd shown him.
Now, who was the dumb animal?
Corky was so smart that you could show him any brand of shampoo and the only one he'd respond to was "baby shampoo". He'd run and hide because he knew that's what we used to bathe him.
He could talk. When he wanted to go outside he'd go and sit by the door. If we didn't notice him he'd bounce around a bit and say "out". I swear!
When my grandchildren walked around with cookie in hand, he'd stalk them until he saw his chance. He'd ever so gently take a piece of the cookie in his teeth and carefully slip it out of the baby's hand without the baby noticing.
He loved to help us carry in groceries. He could carry in a pound of butter without piercing the foil wrapping! That was the Lab in him.
There are so many great memories of the years we were lucky enough to have this dog. I even have an original ink drawing of him framed and displayed in my house. If I had one of those family portrait walls that you see in some houses his picture would be right there with them. After all, he was a member of our family for 15 years.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
The Terrorists Within
Native Indians have published a how-to video on YouTube showing detailed information on how to sabotage our train system.
Government was quick to react. They're going to push for more rapid resolutions to Indian land claims. Idiots!
Now, my first reaction to the video was that finally the government would realize that we have our own home grown terrorists who have been allowed to get away with murder for way too long. Surely now these criminals would face punishment for their crimes. But no.
Apparently if you are a native you can disrail trains, tear up bridges, blockade highways, assault citizens and even the police, disturb the everyday lives and livelihood of law abiding citizens, etc., etc., etc. without fear of paying for your crimes.
And all the while you're doing these things you can continue to draw compensation or welfare from the citizens you're assaulting.
Is there something wrong with this picture?
When a people terrorize their neighbors as these Indians have done they should not be rewarded. They should be punished just as you or I would be.
The government response to terrorist activity such as this is a joke.
Government was quick to react. They're going to push for more rapid resolutions to Indian land claims. Idiots!
Now, my first reaction to the video was that finally the government would realize that we have our own home grown terrorists who have been allowed to get away with murder for way too long. Surely now these criminals would face punishment for their crimes. But no.
Apparently if you are a native you can disrail trains, tear up bridges, blockade highways, assault citizens and even the police, disturb the everyday lives and livelihood of law abiding citizens, etc., etc., etc. without fear of paying for your crimes.
And all the while you're doing these things you can continue to draw compensation or welfare from the citizens you're assaulting.
Is there something wrong with this picture?
When a people terrorize their neighbors as these Indians have done they should not be rewarded. They should be punished just as you or I would be.
The government response to terrorist activity such as this is a joke.
Trouble Publishing
I've been pretty gutsy lately...publishing some of my stories for all the world to see and criticize. But, guess what happened? The last one won't publish. I've tried everything and it just won't go in. Maybe someone is trying to tell me something...like quit trying to publish garbage.
Being technically challenged, I've decided to let it sit for a while and maybe settle into the system so that sooner or later it will find it's way in cyber space to it's rightful place on my blog.
I often have to phone AOL for help with an internet problem and it's kind of cute the way those people are able to bring themselves down to my very low level of understanding. I admire their patience. Usually I don't even know how to phrase the problem I'm having so they also have to be decoders. Some of them even get a bit excited when the light goes on and they understand what I'm trying to tell them. It often takes quite a while and must be very frustrating for them but they never lose patience with me. At least not that I can tell!
I've found that getting older has a few unsuspected advantages. Well mannered people are kinder to you and really do have more patience with you. A few days ago I was following a young man through a door and he almost failed to hold it open for me but his manners kicked in at the last moment when he realized it was an old gal behind him. I saw conditioning fighting with impatience on his face but the conditioning won out.
Let's face it, we do need more help doing things as we get older. Our strength isn't what it used to be and most of us have no idea how things work. Just remember, everyone ages and one day that young man who held the door for me will be an old geezer with a walker. I hope someone holds the door for him, too.
Being technically challenged, I've decided to let it sit for a while and maybe settle into the system so that sooner or later it will find it's way in cyber space to it's rightful place on my blog.
I often have to phone AOL for help with an internet problem and it's kind of cute the way those people are able to bring themselves down to my very low level of understanding. I admire their patience. Usually I don't even know how to phrase the problem I'm having so they also have to be decoders. Some of them even get a bit excited when the light goes on and they understand what I'm trying to tell them. It often takes quite a while and must be very frustrating for them but they never lose patience with me. At least not that I can tell!
I've found that getting older has a few unsuspected advantages. Well mannered people are kinder to you and really do have more patience with you. A few days ago I was following a young man through a door and he almost failed to hold it open for me but his manners kicked in at the last moment when he realized it was an old gal behind him. I saw conditioning fighting with impatience on his face but the conditioning won out.
Let's face it, we do need more help doing things as we get older. Our strength isn't what it used to be and most of us have no idea how things work. Just remember, everyone ages and one day that young man who held the door for me will be an old geezer with a walker. I hope someone holds the door for him, too.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
More Plants
I planted some more flowers today and the yard is looking prettier with every day. It's amazing how the trees have become so lush with leaves and, at my house, formed a canopy over the deck that makes it look so homey and inviting.
I want to plant a Japanese Maple in one spot that already has a very sad looking Weigela. There just isn't enough sunlight there to make it healthy. Japanese Maples are quite expensive and I know I won't live in this house long enough to fully enjoy it but it will make me happy for the length of time I'm here. I just need to find out for sure if Japanese Maples are shade tolerant.
I read somewhere that elderly people who plant a tree aren't doing it for themselves but for the enjoyment of generations to come. I feel that way, too.
Sometimes when I'm driving on a hot and dry summer day, I come upon a weed growing up out of a crack in the asphalt. There's something about the tenacity of life in that darned weed that makes me feel good all over. The healthier the weed the more it makes me want to laugh. It's a good feeling.
We like to plant color co-ordinated pots and gardens of flowers but once in a while a stray gets in amongst our carefully planned scheme. Last year a lone white impatiens popped it's little head out of a display of brilliant red. I loved the surprise of it's presence.
Today was a perfect planting day...warm and sunny with rain in the evening. I'm a contented lady.
I want to plant a Japanese Maple in one spot that already has a very sad looking Weigela. There just isn't enough sunlight there to make it healthy. Japanese Maples are quite expensive and I know I won't live in this house long enough to fully enjoy it but it will make me happy for the length of time I'm here. I just need to find out for sure if Japanese Maples are shade tolerant.
I read somewhere that elderly people who plant a tree aren't doing it for themselves but for the enjoyment of generations to come. I feel that way, too.
Sometimes when I'm driving on a hot and dry summer day, I come upon a weed growing up out of a crack in the asphalt. There's something about the tenacity of life in that darned weed that makes me feel good all over. The healthier the weed the more it makes me want to laugh. It's a good feeling.
We like to plant color co-ordinated pots and gardens of flowers but once in a while a stray gets in amongst our carefully planned scheme. Last year a lone white impatiens popped it's little head out of a display of brilliant red. I loved the surprise of it's presence.
Today was a perfect planting day...warm and sunny with rain in the evening. I'm a contented lady.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Dogs That Come Into Our Lives
I just followed a link on my niece's blog and read a poem by a man I'd never heard of before. His name is Phil Collins (WHOOPS! Make that "Billy Collins") and his poetry touched my soul and made me ache to be able to put thoughts into words the way he does.
But that skill is beyond me so I'll just go ahead and write today's blog about a special little dog who lived with us a long time ago.
I really do believe that some things are meant to be and, reading my sister-in-law's (Marilee) blog this morning about how her precious little dog came into her life, it just drove home how certain people and pets come to you when you need them most.
Many years ago my children and I decided we wanted a dog. My husband, who rarely said a direct "no!" said a direct and firm "no".
We listened politely and then pulled out the newspaper to scan the "pets for sale" section. I left the children for a moment and suddenly heard them screeching with joy because they'd found the perfect dog...a 4 month old Lab (we'd wanted a Lab). It was free to a good home, but the strange thing was that the dog was not advertised in the "pets for sale" column but in the "lost and found pets" column. I would never have looked there but my children did. It was meant to be.
We phoned the number listed and the people explained that this small Lab that they thought was around 4 months old (he turned out to be at least a year old, fully grown, and a Lab mix) had appeared on their doorstep one freezing day and they'd taken him in. They'd advertised twice in the lost and found but no-one had come to claim him and they couldn't keep him because they already had another dog.
We convinced my husband that he should take us just to look at the dog, not to bring him home with us, and he reluctantly agreed. Silly man.
I'll never forget my first view of Corky (as we called him). He was trying so hard to keep out of everyone's way and not be a pest that he was knocking things over. He was a klutz but a good and gentle one. We fell in love with him on sight.
Needless to say, we brought Corky home with us that night and my husband fell in love with him almost as fast as the children and I did.
We had Corky for 15 years and he was always a positive addition to our household. He was part of the family in the truest sense of the word. He had his own Xmas stocking and received presents under the tree just like the rest of us. Not really knowing his age, we gave him a birthday anyway...the day he came to live with us...April 13th. It's funny but I can't remember the year now.
Corky learned the rules of the house very fast and only broke them when we weren't home. He hated being left alone, probably because of his abandonment in a cold, Canadian winter before we got him. He wasn't allowed on the furniture but the minute we stepped out the door without him he climbed up on the sofa. We'd come home to see him dragging himself towards us on his tummy (his way of knowing he was in trouble and begging us not to beat him) and we'd find black dog hair all over the sofa. Of course he was never beaten but he hated it when we were angry with him.
He learned to stay out of my flower gardens and the vegetable garden. When my husband was working in the veggie patch, Corky was terribly uneasy, looking constantly at me to see if his daddy was going to be in trouble.
Corky slept in bed with my daughter, head on the pillow beside her, and warmly bundled under her comforter. Some people might think this is too unsanitary but we did it anyway. He knew when it was 7:30 A.M. and got up to straddle my daughter and stare into her face, getting her up for school. The trouble was that he didn't understand that Saturdays and Sundays were not school days.
As Corky aged he noticably lost strength and hearing. It was heartbreaking when the day came he no longer wanted to chase the squirrels out of his yard. He was sleeping by the patio door and a squirrel walked right up to the screen and looked at him, wanting to play their game of "chase the squirrel but never catch it". Corky lifted an eyebrow, aware the squirrel was close by, but turned his head so that he didn't have to acknowledge it. To acknowledge it meant he'd have to chase it and he was simply too tired.
Corky walked up to me one day while I was in the kitchen, sqatted and peed on the floor. His eyes were glazed over and he seemed to have no idea what he was doing. It wasn't that he'd lost control of his bladder but that senility had crept in. The problem became unbearable for us.
It wasn't long before the day came when my husband took him to the vet and had him "put down".
When we bring a pet into our homes we don't look ahead to the day when we'll lose him. In the back of our minds we know he won't live forever but first time pet owners have no idea how much heartache accompanies the death of a much loved pet.
Having a pet "put down" when the time comes is not necessarily a bad thing but, because we choose the moment, it always leaves us with a sense of guilt. I believe in euthanasia for human beings, too, but maybe the guilt would be too strong to be able to go through with it. When a person is beyond help, in pain and misery, why is it wrong to help them pass?
Corky was a king among dogs and we were so fortunate that he came to us when he did. He enhanced our lives and I still smile when I think of him.
But that skill is beyond me so I'll just go ahead and write today's blog about a special little dog who lived with us a long time ago.
I really do believe that some things are meant to be and, reading my sister-in-law's (Marilee) blog this morning about how her precious little dog came into her life, it just drove home how certain people and pets come to you when you need them most.
Many years ago my children and I decided we wanted a dog. My husband, who rarely said a direct "no!" said a direct and firm "no".
We listened politely and then pulled out the newspaper to scan the "pets for sale" section. I left the children for a moment and suddenly heard them screeching with joy because they'd found the perfect dog...a 4 month old Lab (we'd wanted a Lab). It was free to a good home, but the strange thing was that the dog was not advertised in the "pets for sale" column but in the "lost and found pets" column. I would never have looked there but my children did. It was meant to be.
We phoned the number listed and the people explained that this small Lab that they thought was around 4 months old (he turned out to be at least a year old, fully grown, and a Lab mix) had appeared on their doorstep one freezing day and they'd taken him in. They'd advertised twice in the lost and found but no-one had come to claim him and they couldn't keep him because they already had another dog.
We convinced my husband that he should take us just to look at the dog, not to bring him home with us, and he reluctantly agreed. Silly man.
I'll never forget my first view of Corky (as we called him). He was trying so hard to keep out of everyone's way and not be a pest that he was knocking things over. He was a klutz but a good and gentle one. We fell in love with him on sight.
Needless to say, we brought Corky home with us that night and my husband fell in love with him almost as fast as the children and I did.
We had Corky for 15 years and he was always a positive addition to our household. He was part of the family in the truest sense of the word. He had his own Xmas stocking and received presents under the tree just like the rest of us. Not really knowing his age, we gave him a birthday anyway...the day he came to live with us...April 13th. It's funny but I can't remember the year now.
Corky learned the rules of the house very fast and only broke them when we weren't home. He hated being left alone, probably because of his abandonment in a cold, Canadian winter before we got him. He wasn't allowed on the furniture but the minute we stepped out the door without him he climbed up on the sofa. We'd come home to see him dragging himself towards us on his tummy (his way of knowing he was in trouble and begging us not to beat him) and we'd find black dog hair all over the sofa. Of course he was never beaten but he hated it when we were angry with him.
He learned to stay out of my flower gardens and the vegetable garden. When my husband was working in the veggie patch, Corky was terribly uneasy, looking constantly at me to see if his daddy was going to be in trouble.
Corky slept in bed with my daughter, head on the pillow beside her, and warmly bundled under her comforter. Some people might think this is too unsanitary but we did it anyway. He knew when it was 7:30 A.M. and got up to straddle my daughter and stare into her face, getting her up for school. The trouble was that he didn't understand that Saturdays and Sundays were not school days.
As Corky aged he noticably lost strength and hearing. It was heartbreaking when the day came he no longer wanted to chase the squirrels out of his yard. He was sleeping by the patio door and a squirrel walked right up to the screen and looked at him, wanting to play their game of "chase the squirrel but never catch it". Corky lifted an eyebrow, aware the squirrel was close by, but turned his head so that he didn't have to acknowledge it. To acknowledge it meant he'd have to chase it and he was simply too tired.
Corky walked up to me one day while I was in the kitchen, sqatted and peed on the floor. His eyes were glazed over and he seemed to have no idea what he was doing. It wasn't that he'd lost control of his bladder but that senility had crept in. The problem became unbearable for us.
It wasn't long before the day came when my husband took him to the vet and had him "put down".
When we bring a pet into our homes we don't look ahead to the day when we'll lose him. In the back of our minds we know he won't live forever but first time pet owners have no idea how much heartache accompanies the death of a much loved pet.
Having a pet "put down" when the time comes is not necessarily a bad thing but, because we choose the moment, it always leaves us with a sense of guilt. I believe in euthanasia for human beings, too, but maybe the guilt would be too strong to be able to go through with it. When a person is beyond help, in pain and misery, why is it wrong to help them pass?
Corky was a king among dogs and we were so fortunate that he came to us when he did. He enhanced our lives and I still smile when I think of him.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Muslims Who Hate
A friend sent me an e-mail today that stirred up my quiet little world. It showed pictures of a Muslim demonstration in England and those pictures were ugly. Men and women, some with scarves covering their faces, carried signs with messages of hatred against non-Muslims.
Messages of "BEHEAD THOSE WHO INSULT ISLAM", "BUTCHER THOSE WHO MOCK ISLAM", "EXTERMINATE THOSE WHO SLANDER ISLAM", and many more just as horrific were carried by the demonstrators.
What kind of people are these who show such hatred and dare to make these threats in public? What kind of religion do they follow that is so full of hatred and intolerance toward people of other faiths?
Christian religions aren't perfect by any means and they do hold themselves separate from other faiths but they never propose murdering people who disagree with or mock them. It's the rabid hatred shown by the demonstrators that worries me. How can we ever understand these people?
My husband once had to discipline a Muslim who worked for him. The man had lied about something and when my husband confronted him about it he said that there was no shame in a Muslim lying to a non-Muslim because we were devils.
How is it possible to co-exist with a group of people who think this of us? After seeing those pictures I think I've lost any feeling of trust I had that all religions could live in harmony here in Canada and the U.S.
Can you imagine what a vicious world it would be if all of us non-Muslims had to fear for our lives based on our religious beliefs? I've always believed that everyone should know a little bit about all religions because it would help us better understand each other. I'm going to make it a priority in my education to learn what I can about Islam. Maybe by learning something about it I won't fear it so much.
Messages of "BEHEAD THOSE WHO INSULT ISLAM", "BUTCHER THOSE WHO MOCK ISLAM", "EXTERMINATE THOSE WHO SLANDER ISLAM", and many more just as horrific were carried by the demonstrators.
What kind of people are these who show such hatred and dare to make these threats in public? What kind of religion do they follow that is so full of hatred and intolerance toward people of other faiths?
Christian religions aren't perfect by any means and they do hold themselves separate from other faiths but they never propose murdering people who disagree with or mock them. It's the rabid hatred shown by the demonstrators that worries me. How can we ever understand these people?
My husband once had to discipline a Muslim who worked for him. The man had lied about something and when my husband confronted him about it he said that there was no shame in a Muslim lying to a non-Muslim because we were devils.
How is it possible to co-exist with a group of people who think this of us? After seeing those pictures I think I've lost any feeling of trust I had that all religions could live in harmony here in Canada and the U.S.
Can you imagine what a vicious world it would be if all of us non-Muslims had to fear for our lives based on our religious beliefs? I've always believed that everyone should know a little bit about all religions because it would help us better understand each other. I'm going to make it a priority in my education to learn what I can about Islam. Maybe by learning something about it I won't fear it so much.
My Problems Today
I think I'm going to have to get high speed internet or spend what little is left of my life waiting for pages to load. What has stopped me so far is that it requires me to plug one more darned thing into the computer. Isn't that silly?
I'm also having trouble again trying to insert a picture on my blog. They appear to load and then they disappear. Oh, the mysteries of life.
Sometime soon I have to brace myself and go shopping for a new computer because mine is pretty old. My young lady friends from across the road told me where to shop and what to ask for so I don't think it will be too daunting.
But today is a glorious one...sunny and warm...so I think I'll relax out in the yard. The leaves are so full on the trees and bushes that you could almost kid yourself that it's summer. Life is good.
I'm also having trouble again trying to insert a picture on my blog. They appear to load and then they disappear. Oh, the mysteries of life.
Sometime soon I have to brace myself and go shopping for a new computer because mine is pretty old. My young lady friends from across the road told me where to shop and what to ask for so I don't think it will be too daunting.
But today is a glorious one...sunny and warm...so I think I'll relax out in the yard. The leaves are so full on the trees and bushes that you could almost kid yourself that it's summer. Life is good.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Gambler's Diapers
I learn a few new things every day but this is one I'd rather not know about. Apparently there is a manufacturer cashing in on casino goers who don't want to leave their machine. They've come up with a large load diaper guaranteed to keep you at your favorite slot machine for hours and hours and hours. Gross!
As bad as that sounds, I've heard stories of gamblers sitting in their own urine rather than take a break and risk losing the machine they're playing on. My daughter told me she was about to sit in a chair just vacated by an old lady with suspicious stains on her pants. Thank heavens my daughter is a quick thinker or she'd have sat in the mess herself. Where has that old lady's pride gone?
My rule when leaving a machine is to not look back, even if I hear bells and whistles booming from that direction. I don't want to know that the machine I just left has finally paid off.
I really love going to the casino but I'm smart enough to take just so much money with me and leave as soon as it's gone. That's the reason I prefer to go alone, too, so that I can leave when I want to.
My next trek is to Fallsview Casino at the end of May. My friend, Mary, and I will stay overnight and do some sightseeing while we're there. We'll gamble, too, and Mary will win more than she loses. I'll lose all my money and then go up to our room for a nap. Isn't it interesting how some people are winners and some losers? It helps to know what category you're in and then gamble accordingly.
As bad as that sounds, I've heard stories of gamblers sitting in their own urine rather than take a break and risk losing the machine they're playing on. My daughter told me she was about to sit in a chair just vacated by an old lady with suspicious stains on her pants. Thank heavens my daughter is a quick thinker or she'd have sat in the mess herself. Where has that old lady's pride gone?
My rule when leaving a machine is to not look back, even if I hear bells and whistles booming from that direction. I don't want to know that the machine I just left has finally paid off.
I really love going to the casino but I'm smart enough to take just so much money with me and leave as soon as it's gone. That's the reason I prefer to go alone, too, so that I can leave when I want to.
My next trek is to Fallsview Casino at the end of May. My friend, Mary, and I will stay overnight and do some sightseeing while we're there. We'll gamble, too, and Mary will win more than she loses. I'll lose all my money and then go up to our room for a nap. Isn't it interesting how some people are winners and some losers? It helps to know what category you're in and then gamble accordingly.
Planting Season
I had to go out yesterday to do a bit of shopping and I passed very close to a nursery I buy most of my bedding plants from. I had to stop...I just had to!
It gives me almost a sensual pleasure to walk through a nursery or a large garden. Maybe that's why I spend a lot of time there. Anyway, I walked in and got myself a cart so I must have been subconciously planning on buying more than I could carry. It's too early to plant most things but begonias and geraniums are very hardy so I knew I'd be safe with them.
Just before paying for my plants I noticed a lady leaving with a gorgeous display of snapdragons and I knew I had to have some of those, too.
Bringing my treasures home and finding the perfect spot for them brought a smile to my face that stayed all day. Now if I can only stop myself from bringing home the Impatiens too soon.
It gives me almost a sensual pleasure to walk through a nursery or a large garden. Maybe that's why I spend a lot of time there. Anyway, I walked in and got myself a cart so I must have been subconciously planning on buying more than I could carry. It's too early to plant most things but begonias and geraniums are very hardy so I knew I'd be safe with them.
Just before paying for my plants I noticed a lady leaving with a gorgeous display of snapdragons and I knew I had to have some of those, too.
Bringing my treasures home and finding the perfect spot for them brought a smile to my face that stayed all day. Now if I can only stop myself from bringing home the Impatiens too soon.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Don't Know What to Call This
A lawyer (don't know if he's a Canadian) has launched a class action lawsuit against the Canadian government on behalf of non Canadians who want to become Canadian citizens but don't want to pledge allegiance to the Queen of England. This is a stupid law required if you want Canadian citizenship.
When I first heard this I thought, "Well, it is a stupid law and I'm glad I don't have to renew my citizenship because I wouldn't be pledging allegiance to her either".
Then I thought, "Just a minute. What gives someone who is not a Canadian citizen the right to demand that we change our laws?". The man who has apparently been leading the group is a man who has lived in this country for 25 years without being a citizen. How was this allowed?
Nothing gets the ire of a Canadian up faster than an alien making demands for change, even if the change wouldn't matter much to us. The stock answer is. "If you don't like it then go back where you came from!".
Immigrants come to live in this country because they like it here better than the country of their birth. Canada offers them opportunities and usually a safer way of life than where they came from. This is why my ancestors came here.
I see nothing wrong with an immigrant who has achieved his/her citizenship trying to make changes through their legal vote or public forum but an alien going so far as to hire a lawyer insisting we change our laws is asinine.
We're seeing much the same thing in the United States right now with illegal immigrants demanding the right to legal citizenship. My heart goes out to these people but the question still remains...how can someone who is not a citizen of a country make demands on that country?
There was an e-mail that went the route a while ago that likened an illegal immigrant to a stranger walking into your home and telling you that from now on you would house, feed, medicate, and school him. It was a good analogy.
As for the pending class action suit, I'm afraid I have to side with the people who say, "If Canada isn't to your liking, then maybe you should move somewhere else.".
When I first heard this I thought, "Well, it is a stupid law and I'm glad I don't have to renew my citizenship because I wouldn't be pledging allegiance to her either".
Then I thought, "Just a minute. What gives someone who is not a Canadian citizen the right to demand that we change our laws?". The man who has apparently been leading the group is a man who has lived in this country for 25 years without being a citizen. How was this allowed?
Nothing gets the ire of a Canadian up faster than an alien making demands for change, even if the change wouldn't matter much to us. The stock answer is. "If you don't like it then go back where you came from!".
Immigrants come to live in this country because they like it here better than the country of their birth. Canada offers them opportunities and usually a safer way of life than where they came from. This is why my ancestors came here.
I see nothing wrong with an immigrant who has achieved his/her citizenship trying to make changes through their legal vote or public forum but an alien going so far as to hire a lawyer insisting we change our laws is asinine.
We're seeing much the same thing in the United States right now with illegal immigrants demanding the right to legal citizenship. My heart goes out to these people but the question still remains...how can someone who is not a citizen of a country make demands on that country?
There was an e-mail that went the route a while ago that likened an illegal immigrant to a stranger walking into your home and telling you that from now on you would house, feed, medicate, and school him. It was a good analogy.
As for the pending class action suit, I'm afraid I have to side with the people who say, "If Canada isn't to your liking, then maybe you should move somewhere else.".
False Faced Politicians
I don't think there is a politician alive who doesn't give away his employment status the moment he opens his mouth.
A few years back I was visiting my daughter in Corpus Christie, Texas. One of the places she took me to see was their botanical gardens. It was a plot of sandy land with very few plants of any kind. While we were there we ran into a couple of the local politicians (why they were at this pathetic excuse for a botanical gardens is unknown). Being a politician and hoping to scrounge a vote from what he thought was a local, one of the men approached me and introduced himself. Before he spoke I didn't know he was a politician but kind of suspected it by his expensive clothes and haughty demeanor.
"Hello", he said a little too loudly, "my name is councilman blah blah blah. and what brings you ladies here today?". Man, these guys speak loudly...probably to draw attention to themselves.
I was polite and said I was a visitor from Canada.
"What part?", he asked.
"Ontario", I answered.
"I've been to that city!", he replied with heartfelt enthusiasm.
I just smiled.
A few years back I was visiting my daughter in Corpus Christie, Texas. One of the places she took me to see was their botanical gardens. It was a plot of sandy land with very few plants of any kind. While we were there we ran into a couple of the local politicians (why they were at this pathetic excuse for a botanical gardens is unknown). Being a politician and hoping to scrounge a vote from what he thought was a local, one of the men approached me and introduced himself. Before he spoke I didn't know he was a politician but kind of suspected it by his expensive clothes and haughty demeanor.
"Hello", he said a little too loudly, "my name is councilman blah blah blah. and what brings you ladies here today?". Man, these guys speak loudly...probably to draw attention to themselves.
I was polite and said I was a visitor from Canada.
"What part?", he asked.
"Ontario", I answered.
"I've been to that city!", he replied with heartfelt enthusiasm.
I just smiled.
Centipedes
I can't figure out why I get so many centipedes in the house. I just tallied up the number I find in the bathtub in the morning and they seem to appear about 4 times a week. That's a lot. I hate them with a passion.
When my husband was alive I used to go screaming to him when I saw one of the beasties but now I have to deal with them myself. I still hate the little buggers but my fear of them has lessened and it helps to be armed with a can of Raid.
Spiders don't affect me in the same way. I could almost share a tiny portion of my house with them if they didn't get on me. Centipedes, on the other hand, must be terminated. I refer to the big ones as breeding stock.
My daughter told me a cute, if creepy, story about a vacation she had in Hawaii with her husband and 2 children (Jake wasn't born then). Lisette was probably around 3 or 4 and had a love for all creatures big or small and that included bugs. Shelley discovered the mother of all centipedes in their rental and planned to kill it but Lisette intervened by crying "don't kill my friend!". John had to catch the critter and release it unharmed outside. Her friend!!! She obviously doesn't carry many of her grandmother's genes...especially the ones that abhor centipedes.
When my husband was alive I used to go screaming to him when I saw one of the beasties but now I have to deal with them myself. I still hate the little buggers but my fear of them has lessened and it helps to be armed with a can of Raid.
Spiders don't affect me in the same way. I could almost share a tiny portion of my house with them if they didn't get on me. Centipedes, on the other hand, must be terminated. I refer to the big ones as breeding stock.
My daughter told me a cute, if creepy, story about a vacation she had in Hawaii with her husband and 2 children (Jake wasn't born then). Lisette was probably around 3 or 4 and had a love for all creatures big or small and that included bugs. Shelley discovered the mother of all centipedes in their rental and planned to kill it but Lisette intervened by crying "don't kill my friend!". John had to catch the critter and release it unharmed outside. Her friend!!! She obviously doesn't carry many of her grandmother's genes...especially the ones that abhor centipedes.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
FLICK IT
This is the wording in an ad put out by our government. It's actually written in the ad in a way that the "LI" looks more like a "U". The wording and the message must have been approved by many, many levels of government before it came to fruition so it leaves me wondering why we keep electing idiots.
The idea is that we should conserve energy by turning off lights when we're not using them. Nice idea. Low life message. Somehow not respectable enough to come from the people we trust to run our country.
Of course, we have no respect for the people who run our country anyway!
The idea is that we should conserve energy by turning off lights when we're not using them. Nice idea. Low life message. Somehow not respectable enough to come from the people we trust to run our country.
Of course, we have no respect for the people who run our country anyway!
Monday, May 07, 2007
Short Term Visitors
I'm still a little perplexed about the really short term visitors to my blog. The site meter (which I love for all the information it supplies me) announces fantastic visits from all over the world and then, when I look to see how long they stayed on my site, it says 0 minutes.
So this is a blog dedicated to those visitors. Come and stay a while. Let me know what you think of the ramblings of a 66 year old Canadian lady. I don't have a thick skin so don't be too critical. Please, please, please tell me how you found me. Tell me a little about yourself.
I've been blogging for a little more than a year and it's become an important part of my daily ritual. My aim is to educate the younger generation about what to expect when they grow older. Old people often become little ghosts on the perimeter of our lives but I've always found them to be amazing sources of interesting information. They've lived. And we're still living and learning and enjoying the fruits of our lifelong labor.
I had one visit on my blog from the Russian Federation of Moscow. Now I'd give up coffee for one day to find out how they found me, what they thought about the blog, and why they haven't returned. I'm assuming these rapid blog visits are accidental encounters but I'd sure love to know.
In any case, I'll continue blogging for as long as my little fingers can type so please feel free to drop by any time.
So this is a blog dedicated to those visitors. Come and stay a while. Let me know what you think of the ramblings of a 66 year old Canadian lady. I don't have a thick skin so don't be too critical. Please, please, please tell me how you found me. Tell me a little about yourself.
I've been blogging for a little more than a year and it's become an important part of my daily ritual. My aim is to educate the younger generation about what to expect when they grow older. Old people often become little ghosts on the perimeter of our lives but I've always found them to be amazing sources of interesting information. They've lived. And we're still living and learning and enjoying the fruits of our lifelong labor.
I had one visit on my blog from the Russian Federation of Moscow. Now I'd give up coffee for one day to find out how they found me, what they thought about the blog, and why they haven't returned. I'm assuming these rapid blog visits are accidental encounters but I'd sure love to know.
In any case, I'll continue blogging for as long as my little fingers can type so please feel free to drop by any time.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Transvestite at the Mall
Every once in a while I run across a transvestite and this is what goes through my mind...surprise, then sadness for their lack of fashion sense, then sadness for their plight. I don't know whether the person at the mall today was "a female trapped in a male body" or a man who just likes to cross dress occasionally. Whatever their problem they hadn't achieved a very good transformation and still looked like a man dressed as a woman.
My sister noticed the person first and was puzzled as to gender. I took a peek out of nosiness and saw a "woman" about 6'2" dressed in a silky purple dress, black lace shawl and wobbly high heels. I couldn't see any 5 o'clock shadow but the make-up was awfully thick. The features were decidedly male. Make-up on a manly face is pretty grotesque.
I've watched many T.V. shows on transvestites and these people are really suffering. Apparently their DNA is that of a normal male so why do they feel such strong urges to be female?
We can dismiss them as nut cases but some of these people actually go through full surgical transformation from male to female and that isn't easy or cheap. I can only hope that they've been evaluated as mentally sane before any surgeon touches them. I also wonder if, once they've been successfully transformed, they finally feel happy and complete.
I know that the reverse...female to male...happens also but I've never seen one except on T.V. How unsettling it is to think of these poor souls feeling alienated from their own bodies.
Whatever their story, I hope they find happiness. Life is hard for the average person but someone like the transvestite I saw today carries a much larger burden every waking hour.
My sister noticed the person first and was puzzled as to gender. I took a peek out of nosiness and saw a "woman" about 6'2" dressed in a silky purple dress, black lace shawl and wobbly high heels. I couldn't see any 5 o'clock shadow but the make-up was awfully thick. The features were decidedly male. Make-up on a manly face is pretty grotesque.
I've watched many T.V. shows on transvestites and these people are really suffering. Apparently their DNA is that of a normal male so why do they feel such strong urges to be female?
We can dismiss them as nut cases but some of these people actually go through full surgical transformation from male to female and that isn't easy or cheap. I can only hope that they've been evaluated as mentally sane before any surgeon touches them. I also wonder if, once they've been successfully transformed, they finally feel happy and complete.
I know that the reverse...female to male...happens also but I've never seen one except on T.V. How unsettling it is to think of these poor souls feeling alienated from their own bodies.
Whatever their story, I hope they find happiness. Life is hard for the average person but someone like the transvestite I saw today carries a much larger burden every waking hour.
Neighborly Neighbors
The neighborhood I live in is a nice, friendly one. People visit back and forth, form little conversation groups on the front lawns, and keep a watchful eye over their neighbor's homes.
I've watched countless shows on Judge Judy and People's Court about feuding neighbors and just can't believe one could be unlucky enough to move next door to any of them.
The worst neighbor I ever had was one of my best friends. Actually, it wasn't her but her teenage sons who were the problem. They loved to pull into their driveway at all hours of the day or night and listen to their car radio, music blasting and disturbing to sleeping ears even with windows closed. To make matters worse, their driveway was directly below my bedroom window.
My husband and I never complained until one morning when the youngest son was sitting in his car enjoying his music at top volume. My husband was in the fire department at that time and had just returned from an overnight shift so he was trying to sleep. I went over to David's car and explained the situation to him in a polite, "neighborly" way. He was shocked that he'd caused any disturbance and apologized profusely. He was genuinely surprised that others could hear the noise because he'd kept his car windows closed. The windows were shaking but the noise couldn't escape...right!
From then on the boys would park their cars at the end of the driveway, as far away from our bedroom window as possible...and listen to their loud music at all hours of the day or night. We never complained because they'd made an effort and they were basically good neighbors...and their Momma was one of my best friends. I did keep mental count of the years left before they'd get married and move away, though.
Now they're gone and so is my friend (she passed away 2 years ago). I miss them all because they really were good neighbors.
And that is why we never ended up on Judge Judy or People's Court.
I've watched countless shows on Judge Judy and People's Court about feuding neighbors and just can't believe one could be unlucky enough to move next door to any of them.
The worst neighbor I ever had was one of my best friends. Actually, it wasn't her but her teenage sons who were the problem. They loved to pull into their driveway at all hours of the day or night and listen to their car radio, music blasting and disturbing to sleeping ears even with windows closed. To make matters worse, their driveway was directly below my bedroom window.
My husband and I never complained until one morning when the youngest son was sitting in his car enjoying his music at top volume. My husband was in the fire department at that time and had just returned from an overnight shift so he was trying to sleep. I went over to David's car and explained the situation to him in a polite, "neighborly" way. He was shocked that he'd caused any disturbance and apologized profusely. He was genuinely surprised that others could hear the noise because he'd kept his car windows closed. The windows were shaking but the noise couldn't escape...right!
From then on the boys would park their cars at the end of the driveway, as far away from our bedroom window as possible...and listen to their loud music at all hours of the day or night. We never complained because they'd made an effort and they were basically good neighbors...and their Momma was one of my best friends. I did keep mental count of the years left before they'd get married and move away, though.
Now they're gone and so is my friend (she passed away 2 years ago). I miss them all because they really were good neighbors.
And that is why we never ended up on Judge Judy or People's Court.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Downtown Tim's
Some lady friends and I went to the downtown core of our fair city last night to see an Elvis (Presley) impersonator show. I seldom do more than drive through downtown because I hate to pay for parking and everything I might want can be found at a mall. Downtown at night is not a safe place to be, either.
We met for dinner at a nice restaurant down there that I haven't been to in maybe 15 years. It's still the same and the food is still as delicious. I think it deserves to be mentioned by name ..."The Black Forest"! Most restaurants start out with hopes of becoming popular and then, when they do, change their menu and their theme. This restaurant has held true to it's roots and I can't wait to go back again soon.
The Elvis show was wonderful and, as usual for me, I started to classify the crowd into sex and age groups. Of course the women outnumbered the men by at least 50-1 but I got a bit of a surprise as I tallied up the age groups. My age group, the ones who were with the real Elvis from the start of his career, was not the largest. I'd say that the largest group of women were in the 40-50 year old range. Good old Elvis...we all loved him!
After the show I suggested we go to a Tim Hortons for coffee and all agreed. I wanted to head back up to a residential area and go to a Tim's there but one of my friends insisted we should go to one closer...in the downtown area.
I squawked "A downtown Tim's at night! Are you crazy?" but my fears were laughed away. Stupid women.
So off to a Tim Hortons in the downtown core we went...at 11 P.M. on a Friday night. Four old gals, only one of which had the common sense to know who frequents a downtown Tim Hortons late at night.
My sister-in-law, Faye, who was my driver, began to see the error of our ways before we arrived at our destination. I distinctly heard her mutter under her breath as a police car drove by, "Please be going to Tims, too. Think coffee/donuts!" Her quiet pleas went unheard by the cops as they passed us and passed the Tims.
We pulled into the parking lot of a busy, busy Tim's. By busy, I mean the parking lot was filled with more people than cars. Possibly more motorcycles than cars! Some of the people were ragged and dirty and most likely street people. One of them smiled kindly at us (or our purses) and held open the restaurant door, loudly congratulating himself for being a gentleman. The bikers in the parking lot ignored him.
Faye and I had to pee before having a coffee so we clung to each other and moved as one to the ladies room. Lined up in front of the bathroom door were about 4 or 5 hookers waiting to use the facilities. Don't ask me how I knew they were hookers. Anyone could have picked this bunch out of a police lineup.
Faye turned abruptly and dragged me back outside and we told our other friends that there was no way we were staying there. They shook their heads and rolled their eyes but agreed to meet us at another Tim's in a better part of town.
In time, we had seated ourselves at a nice, neighborly Tims, happily drinking the best coffee in the world.
The moral of this story is...don't get too far out of your element or you won't want to use the bathroom there.
We met for dinner at a nice restaurant down there that I haven't been to in maybe 15 years. It's still the same and the food is still as delicious. I think it deserves to be mentioned by name ..."The Black Forest"! Most restaurants start out with hopes of becoming popular and then, when they do, change their menu and their theme. This restaurant has held true to it's roots and I can't wait to go back again soon.
The Elvis show was wonderful and, as usual for me, I started to classify the crowd into sex and age groups. Of course the women outnumbered the men by at least 50-1 but I got a bit of a surprise as I tallied up the age groups. My age group, the ones who were with the real Elvis from the start of his career, was not the largest. I'd say that the largest group of women were in the 40-50 year old range. Good old Elvis...we all loved him!
After the show I suggested we go to a Tim Hortons for coffee and all agreed. I wanted to head back up to a residential area and go to a Tim's there but one of my friends insisted we should go to one closer...in the downtown area.
I squawked "A downtown Tim's at night! Are you crazy?" but my fears were laughed away. Stupid women.
So off to a Tim Hortons in the downtown core we went...at 11 P.M. on a Friday night. Four old gals, only one of which had the common sense to know who frequents a downtown Tim Hortons late at night.
My sister-in-law, Faye, who was my driver, began to see the error of our ways before we arrived at our destination. I distinctly heard her mutter under her breath as a police car drove by, "Please be going to Tims, too. Think coffee/donuts!" Her quiet pleas went unheard by the cops as they passed us and passed the Tims.
We pulled into the parking lot of a busy, busy Tim's. By busy, I mean the parking lot was filled with more people than cars. Possibly more motorcycles than cars! Some of the people were ragged and dirty and most likely street people. One of them smiled kindly at us (or our purses) and held open the restaurant door, loudly congratulating himself for being a gentleman. The bikers in the parking lot ignored him.
Faye and I had to pee before having a coffee so we clung to each other and moved as one to the ladies room. Lined up in front of the bathroom door were about 4 or 5 hookers waiting to use the facilities. Don't ask me how I knew they were hookers. Anyone could have picked this bunch out of a police lineup.
Faye turned abruptly and dragged me back outside and we told our other friends that there was no way we were staying there. They shook their heads and rolled their eyes but agreed to meet us at another Tim's in a better part of town.
In time, we had seated ourselves at a nice, neighborly Tims, happily drinking the best coffee in the world.
The moral of this story is...don't get too far out of your element or you won't want to use the bathroom there.
Friday, May 04, 2007
A Mother
A Toronto mother has been arrested for prostituting her 12 year old mentally handicapped daughter. This is so out of the realm of imagination for the average, normal mother that it's haunting.
I had 3 little girls that I would have died to protect. Never mind my own little girls, there isn't a predator alive who could get past me if I was there to protect any little girl. In my eyes, that's a "normal" mother.
Real mothers are the ones who, when a child cries, all rush to see if it's their child. A mother is a natural care-giver.
Women who choose not to have children are a mystery to me. Of course they have the right to choose what to do with their own bodies but how do they stifle that maternal urge to reproduce? Personally I believe they've negated their true purpose on this earth. Money and freedom seem kind of petty in comparison to creating life and nurturing that little life into adulthood.
Back to the Toronto brood mare (shouldn't be called a mother). The news said she and her daughter lived in a crack house. Drugs cause some women to become prostitutes themselves but I'd bet my life that most of those prostitutes wouldn't...couldn't prostitute their own children. There is a strong instinct in most of us to protect our child at all costs so how did that instinct break down in this particular woman? I can imagine that she is nothing but a shell of a woman, long since had the soul torn from her body.
And the men who took advantage of this child? May they rot in hell!
I had 3 little girls that I would have died to protect. Never mind my own little girls, there isn't a predator alive who could get past me if I was there to protect any little girl. In my eyes, that's a "normal" mother.
Real mothers are the ones who, when a child cries, all rush to see if it's their child. A mother is a natural care-giver.
Women who choose not to have children are a mystery to me. Of course they have the right to choose what to do with their own bodies but how do they stifle that maternal urge to reproduce? Personally I believe they've negated their true purpose on this earth. Money and freedom seem kind of petty in comparison to creating life and nurturing that little life into adulthood.
Back to the Toronto brood mare (shouldn't be called a mother). The news said she and her daughter lived in a crack house. Drugs cause some women to become prostitutes themselves but I'd bet my life that most of those prostitutes wouldn't...couldn't prostitute their own children. There is a strong instinct in most of us to protect our child at all costs so how did that instinct break down in this particular woman? I can imagine that she is nothing but a shell of a woman, long since had the soul torn from her body.
And the men who took advantage of this child? May they rot in hell!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Renovator #2
Well, I decided to go with renovator #1 because he can start next week and renovator #2 couldn't start for another month. But renovator #2 was one beautiful man.
When I was a young woman I didn't appreciate how beautiful some men could be but now that I'm an old gal I'm much more aware. R2 (as I'll call him) was one of the most beautiful men I'd ever seen. He had one of those faces you'd love to paint. An unlined cocoa colored face with a touch of grey in his hair...sweet!
If I'd been an unmarried young lady I would have hired R2 on the spot and waited a month...and then hope he was a slow worker.
But I'm an elderly widow and I want the damn job finished as soon as possible so I'm going with R1.
When I was a young woman I didn't appreciate how beautiful some men could be but now that I'm an old gal I'm much more aware. R2 (as I'll call him) was one of the most beautiful men I'd ever seen. He had one of those faces you'd love to paint. An unlined cocoa colored face with a touch of grey in his hair...sweet!
If I'd been an unmarried young lady I would have hired R2 on the spot and waited a month...and then hope he was a slow worker.
But I'm an elderly widow and I want the damn job finished as soon as possible so I'm going with R1.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Things Are Looking Up
Renovator #1 phoned me back with a price. Renovator #2 is coming tonight to look at the job and give me a price. It's hard to believe how worried I was when faced with this surprise job on my hands and unable to get my mind around the fact that there were options available.
My friend, Carole, just sold her house, too. It had been on the market for about a year and she was pretty desperate to sell it considering she'd already purchased another one. At the 11th hour, 2 bids came in at the same time and she was able to accept the higher one. Given time, things do have a way of working themselves out.
I have a grandson just like me. We don't like sudden change and we don't like things being up in the air and not settled.
He changed schools when he was 6 years old and I remember him standing in line waiting for the doors to open. He wasn't saying a word but tears were running down his little face. As I comforted him a little girl from his class walked up and tenderly brushed the tears from his face...and I knew he'd be alright.
When my husband passed away, I felt as though I was skittering through life on a "wing and a prayer" (as my daughter would say). I had no idea if I'd be able to manage the house or my life on my own. Almost 2 years later I've discovered that I can handle most anything...given time and luck.
Every one of us has untapped resources within ourselves. It's easy to let the other person handle a problem but, when we do it ourselves, we feel stronger and more capable. I think I know my limits and I'm not ashamed to admit it. There's always an alternative if we just give ourselves a moment to consider it.
Back to the ongoing saga of my basement renovation...it will get done and it wasn't the end of the world.
My friend, Carole, just sold her house, too. It had been on the market for about a year and she was pretty desperate to sell it considering she'd already purchased another one. At the 11th hour, 2 bids came in at the same time and she was able to accept the higher one. Given time, things do have a way of working themselves out.
I have a grandson just like me. We don't like sudden change and we don't like things being up in the air and not settled.
He changed schools when he was 6 years old and I remember him standing in line waiting for the doors to open. He wasn't saying a word but tears were running down his little face. As I comforted him a little girl from his class walked up and tenderly brushed the tears from his face...and I knew he'd be alright.
When my husband passed away, I felt as though I was skittering through life on a "wing and a prayer" (as my daughter would say). I had no idea if I'd be able to manage the house or my life on my own. Almost 2 years later I've discovered that I can handle most anything...given time and luck.
Every one of us has untapped resources within ourselves. It's easy to let the other person handle a problem but, when we do it ourselves, we feel stronger and more capable. I think I know my limits and I'm not ashamed to admit it. There's always an alternative if we just give ourselves a moment to consider it.
Back to the ongoing saga of my basement renovation...it will get done and it wasn't the end of the world.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Just Published
Well, I dared to publish one of my very, very short stories in a blog and I have to admit it's a terrifying experience. I told my daughter that it was equivalent to baring your boobs.
Kim was very kind and said she liked it but I'm not sure. It's not the same as writing a regular blog because I'm just yakking here, not pretending to be a "real" writer so I don't have to fear criticism. In fact, criticism wouldn't be as bad as snickers.
Maybe once I gain a bit of backbone I'll try again and, hopefully, write something longer. Again, writing that little story was so traumatic for me that I couldn't end it fast enough.
Just in case anyone would like to read that blogspot, the website is:
http://mommasstories.blogspot.com/
Just don't expect much.
Kim was very kind and said she liked it but I'm not sure. It's not the same as writing a regular blog because I'm just yakking here, not pretending to be a "real" writer so I don't have to fear criticism. In fact, criticism wouldn't be as bad as snickers.
Maybe once I gain a bit of backbone I'll try again and, hopefully, write something longer. Again, writing that little story was so traumatic for me that I couldn't end it fast enough.
Just in case anyone would like to read that blogspot, the website is:
http://mommasstories.blogspot.com/
Just don't expect much.
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