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!
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
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.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Spring Flowers
Okay, let's try this again. I'm having trouble adding a picture to my blog and this is the last attempt today!
Spring Garden
I went out to the front of the house at 6:30 this morning to get some pictures of my spring garden for this blog. Unfortunately I can't get the pictures to come up but I'll try again later.
It looked quite pretty out there even though the tulips haven't opened yet but there is lots of promise in my garden. I made an effort when planting the tulip bulbs to plant a variety of early, mid, and late tulips. Wonder why I chose early yellow tulips when the yellow daffodils bloom at the same time?
Some of the rocks in my gardens were here when we bought the house back in 1968 but many have been lugged here from far and wide. Some of my prettiest pink rocks came from up around Bancroft. I think I like rocks in the garden because the combination of soft flowers among hard rocks appeals to my sense of esthetic beauty.
My neighbor, new at the time, gave me a nice compliment a couple of years ago. He said that my spring garden looked as though it was newly planted and cultivated. I've since assured him that all of my plantings are done with an eye to ease of maintenance and assurety of permanence.
From my computer I can see through the patio doors to the deck. I found some of the neatest planters at Home Depot one year and they sit firmly astride the deck rail, drainage holes on either side so that they don't drain onto the rail and rot the wood. Right now they're empty but I can already envision the riot of color that will fill them in another month.
Spring, as youth, is a promise of wonderful things yet to come.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
A Sense of Relief
You know that feeling you get when you're worried about something and the problem suddenly goes away. It's literally as though a weight has been lifted and you're able to breathe deeper. Happiness engulfs you.
Such as:
The person you thought was angry with you still loves you.
You get your tax/repair bill and it's less than you'd dared hope.
Your child falls, is silent and not moving, and then cries in anger.
Your doctor walks in, looks down at his/her chart and says all is well.
You're in the unbearable heat and humidity of summer and walk into a cool room.
You're feet hurt something fierce and you remove your shoes.
Your renovator returns your call.
Enjoy these moments because they're part of the spice of life.
Such as:
The person you thought was angry with you still loves you.
You get your tax/repair bill and it's less than you'd dared hope.
Your child falls, is silent and not moving, and then cries in anger.
Your doctor walks in, looks down at his/her chart and says all is well.
You're in the unbearable heat and humidity of summer and walk into a cool room.
You're feet hurt something fierce and you remove your shoes.
Your renovator returns your call.
Enjoy these moments because they're part of the spice of life.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Comedy
There's not a whole lot worth watching on T.V. but I do enjoy watching the comedy network. Stand up comedians are a special breed of people and I believe they are born, not made. Many times the comedians base their monologues on sex and nasty language but occasionally you see a true comedian who can make you laugh without swearing.
I watched such a comedian this morning and he had me laughing so hard at the visuals he drew with words that I almost...well, you know. He made fun of every race, religion, and age without being cruel. I think that's the secret of being a really good comedian...being funny without being cruel.
We need laughter in our lives. They say it produces beneficial effects to our bodies. The problem with so many comedy shows on T.V. is that they have laughter sound tracts which just don't jibe with the so-called comedy being presented. It puts one off.
Live comedy...or even taped live comedy...can raise our spirits and make us laugh at ourselves. Lord knows, there's no lack of material when you're describing the human condition.
Robin Williams is a comedic genius who was born with the talent to make people laugh. His intelligence and natural kindness make him the kind of comedian I love to watch. He can be pretty graphic at times but somehow it just comes out hilarious and not unbearably crude.
We all have natural comedians somewhere in our families or friends and they are the people you love to be around. We gravitate towards laughter because there's not always a lot to laugh about in our everyday lives.
In my senior park in Florida there are probably about 200-300 people in the busy season but if you asked most of them who the park clown is you'd probably get the same answer...Ron. I've never yet been in his company when he hasn't had me laughing myself silly.
People like Ron or Robin add so much to our lives. Wouldn't it be a sad, boring world without the people who can make us laugh?
I watched such a comedian this morning and he had me laughing so hard at the visuals he drew with words that I almost...well, you know. He made fun of every race, religion, and age without being cruel. I think that's the secret of being a really good comedian...being funny without being cruel.
We need laughter in our lives. They say it produces beneficial effects to our bodies. The problem with so many comedy shows on T.V. is that they have laughter sound tracts which just don't jibe with the so-called comedy being presented. It puts one off.
Live comedy...or even taped live comedy...can raise our spirits and make us laugh at ourselves. Lord knows, there's no lack of material when you're describing the human condition.
Robin Williams is a comedic genius who was born with the talent to make people laugh. His intelligence and natural kindness make him the kind of comedian I love to watch. He can be pretty graphic at times but somehow it just comes out hilarious and not unbearably crude.
We all have natural comedians somewhere in our families or friends and they are the people you love to be around. We gravitate towards laughter because there's not always a lot to laugh about in our everyday lives.
In my senior park in Florida there are probably about 200-300 people in the busy season but if you asked most of them who the park clown is you'd probably get the same answer...Ron. I've never yet been in his company when he hasn't had me laughing myself silly.
People like Ron or Robin add so much to our lives. Wouldn't it be a sad, boring world without the people who can make us laugh?
Friday, April 27, 2007
Ghosts and E.S.P.
I was talking to a man today who brought up the fact that one of the buildings in my city is known to be haunted. It's an old building now used by some government run organization (I think it's actually run by the gay pride people because all the staff I once saw there appeared to be gay). I was there for an open house and only saw a total waste of taxpayer dollars.
The man I spoke to is a retired police officer and he once went down into the basement of the building and felt something touch him. I believe in this stuff!!
All of my life I've experienced events that can't be explained by what we know. Up until I was 14 I regularly had out-of-body experiences and could do it at will. Somehow I lost the ability but it has still happened occasionally when I've been under severe stress. This is a known occurrence for many people who are in extreme stressful conditions.
Many times I've known what was going to happen before it did and, by respecting my intuitions, it saved my life. This is also a rather common occurrence with others but we don't always pay attention to it.
Once my husband and I were on vacation in Venezuela and we rented a car to do a bit of touring in the countryside. We were in the village of Manzanilla and pulled up behind a water truck that had stopped in front of us. My intuition (E.S.P.) screamed at me that the truck was going to back up and I yelled this to my husband. Normally he would have ignored me, but this time he did put the car in reverse but just not fast enough to get out of the way. The driver of the truck had no idea we were behind him (there was no other vehicle on the road besides the two of us) so he put it in reverse and gunned the motor. The truck roared up onto the hood of our car, wheels spinning, and the water pipes on the side tore out our driver's side window, narrowly missing my husband. If I hadn't had my premonition, our car would have sat in a different position and the pipes would have come straight through the windshield...and through my husband.
Another time my husband, grandson, and mother-in-law went for a walk in the woods. We'd barely begun our walk when something told me strongly that there was danger ahead. I simply couldn't take another step but my husband and mother-in-law chose to go on while I took my grandson back to the car. Moments later, my mother-in-law fell on a rock and broke her ribs. Coincidence? Of course, if my E.S.P. worked flawlessly I'd have dragged my mother-in-law back to the car, too.
I've learned to heed my internal warnings. Most often they don't make sense at the time but I usually discover that I was wise to trust them. We make judgements based on our five senses every day so what is odd about using that sixth sense to guide us? I think we might be better off if we did.
The man I spoke to is a retired police officer and he once went down into the basement of the building and felt something touch him. I believe in this stuff!!
All of my life I've experienced events that can't be explained by what we know. Up until I was 14 I regularly had out-of-body experiences and could do it at will. Somehow I lost the ability but it has still happened occasionally when I've been under severe stress. This is a known occurrence for many people who are in extreme stressful conditions.
Many times I've known what was going to happen before it did and, by respecting my intuitions, it saved my life. This is also a rather common occurrence with others but we don't always pay attention to it.
Once my husband and I were on vacation in Venezuela and we rented a car to do a bit of touring in the countryside. We were in the village of Manzanilla and pulled up behind a water truck that had stopped in front of us. My intuition (E.S.P.) screamed at me that the truck was going to back up and I yelled this to my husband. Normally he would have ignored me, but this time he did put the car in reverse but just not fast enough to get out of the way. The driver of the truck had no idea we were behind him (there was no other vehicle on the road besides the two of us) so he put it in reverse and gunned the motor. The truck roared up onto the hood of our car, wheels spinning, and the water pipes on the side tore out our driver's side window, narrowly missing my husband. If I hadn't had my premonition, our car would have sat in a different position and the pipes would have come straight through the windshield...and through my husband.
Another time my husband, grandson, and mother-in-law went for a walk in the woods. We'd barely begun our walk when something told me strongly that there was danger ahead. I simply couldn't take another step but my husband and mother-in-law chose to go on while I took my grandson back to the car. Moments later, my mother-in-law fell on a rock and broke her ribs. Coincidence? Of course, if my E.S.P. worked flawlessly I'd have dragged my mother-in-law back to the car, too.
I've learned to heed my internal warnings. Most often they don't make sense at the time but I usually discover that I was wise to trust them. We make judgements based on our five senses every day so what is odd about using that sixth sense to guide us? I think we might be better off if we did.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
I Hate April Showers
Remember the cute saying "April showers bring May flowers"? Well, I'm fed up with grey skies, rain, and cold. I've been around for 66 Aprils and they're almost always the same but I never give up hope that one April will turn out to be exactly like May and we'll get a jump on summer. Foolish me.
Every fall I plan my garden for the next year. There are always improvements that can be made with choice of color, flower, or placement so it never becomes repetitious. I seem to buy and plant from spring through summer because I always believe I can fit just one more plant in the garden. Then there are the placement mistakes that need to be replanted elsewhere. I know I can't plant in April and have never been able to plant in April but it's so darned stark outside. There are a few daffodils, hyacynths, and crocuses popped up here and there but it just isn't enough.
3 weeks til planting time...how will I get through it?
Every fall I plan my garden for the next year. There are always improvements that can be made with choice of color, flower, or placement so it never becomes repetitious. I seem to buy and plant from spring through summer because I always believe I can fit just one more plant in the garden. Then there are the placement mistakes that need to be replanted elsewhere. I know I can't plant in April and have never been able to plant in April but it's so darned stark outside. There are a few daffodils, hyacynths, and crocuses popped up here and there but it just isn't enough.
3 weeks til planting time...how will I get through it?
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
The Importance of Color
Isn't it interesting how important color is in our lives? Of course, people in the arts live for color but I'm talking about the average, everyday person.
We decorate our homes and ourselves with an eye for which color will best suit the purpose. There are always trends to follow but we usually have a few favorite colors that we won't give up no matter what the current fashion happens to be.
My favorite color has been turquoise for as long as I can remember. When I first viewed the ocean in the caribbean I was overcome with emotion because the water was the most perfect shade of turquoise I had ever seen.
People love to visit gardens because being surrounded by the beautiful colors in nature soothes our souls. I've been told that even the desert is a showcase of color but I've never seen it. Maybe one day.
Advertisers know how susceptible we are to color and use that advantage when creating their advertisements. The color red will draw our eye every time.
Psychologists have told us that lack of sunlight during the winter months will dull our spirits and worsen depression. Being immersed in grey skies for too long makes me totally miserable. Once the sun comes out and highlights whatever colors are still visible in January, I come alive.
I love to dress in vibrant colors but I'm overweight so I have to be careful. Dress up for me is basic black with a splash of red or hot pink to make me forget the black. Casual dress is almost always a lovely bright color with a long shirt to cover my butt. If I had to wear black every day I'd stay in my pyjamas.
I spend the winter in Florida which is heavily populated with Mexicans and Cubans who like to paint their houses strong, exotic colors. At first, these colors assault the eye but soon you realize that those are the colors that make them happy...then you relax and allow yourself to enjoy their freedom of expression. I love the cultural differences we have and hope they never assimilate themselves into the general population so much that they resort to painting their houses white.
Now, let's think, what color should I wear today? It won't be black!
We decorate our homes and ourselves with an eye for which color will best suit the purpose. There are always trends to follow but we usually have a few favorite colors that we won't give up no matter what the current fashion happens to be.
My favorite color has been turquoise for as long as I can remember. When I first viewed the ocean in the caribbean I was overcome with emotion because the water was the most perfect shade of turquoise I had ever seen.
People love to visit gardens because being surrounded by the beautiful colors in nature soothes our souls. I've been told that even the desert is a showcase of color but I've never seen it. Maybe one day.
Advertisers know how susceptible we are to color and use that advantage when creating their advertisements. The color red will draw our eye every time.
Psychologists have told us that lack of sunlight during the winter months will dull our spirits and worsen depression. Being immersed in grey skies for too long makes me totally miserable. Once the sun comes out and highlights whatever colors are still visible in January, I come alive.
I love to dress in vibrant colors but I'm overweight so I have to be careful. Dress up for me is basic black with a splash of red or hot pink to make me forget the black. Casual dress is almost always a lovely bright color with a long shirt to cover my butt. If I had to wear black every day I'd stay in my pyjamas.
I spend the winter in Florida which is heavily populated with Mexicans and Cubans who like to paint their houses strong, exotic colors. At first, these colors assault the eye but soon you realize that those are the colors that make them happy...then you relax and allow yourself to enjoy their freedom of expression. I love the cultural differences we have and hope they never assimilate themselves into the general population so much that they resort to painting their houses white.
Now, let's think, what color should I wear today? It won't be black!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
We've Got It Good
I spoke to a friend today about some plans we have for the summer. We discussed how full our lives are now that we're "ladies of a certain age" and wondered how we ever accomplished much when our children were young. I know how...we lived for our kids instead of ourselves then. Now our kids are grown and we can concentrate on living our own lives to the fullest.
My friend and I decided we have it pretty good and are living an "old" age that our own parents could never have hoped for. We're enlightened, so to speak, and won't accept sliding into our sunset years by vegetating in front of the T.V. We've developed the attitude that life is meant to be enjoyed.
I'm always hoping that I'm a setting a good example for my grandchildren about how getting old doesn't mean your life is over. We can't even scrape the surface of all there is to know and learn about our world, even if we lived to be a thousand. When we get older we have the time to examine life more closely so we see things we missed in our busy years.
One of the plans for this summer is a drive to New Brunswick for a family reunion. My 17 year old granddaughter is going with me and I'm ecstatic over the opportunity to spend that time with her. The New Brunswick part of the family is on my husband's side (so, therefore, my granddaughter's) and she'll have a wonderful time meeting and mingling with her blood relatives. I'm going to have a wonderful time meeting and mingling, too, just because I enjoy their company.
These days I avoid being anywhere that isn't pleasant and fun. I've learned the secret of walking away from unpleasantness because there's too much good stuff in every direction. I have the right "attitude".
My friend and I decided we have it pretty good and are living an "old" age that our own parents could never have hoped for. We're enlightened, so to speak, and won't accept sliding into our sunset years by vegetating in front of the T.V. We've developed the attitude that life is meant to be enjoyed.
I'm always hoping that I'm a setting a good example for my grandchildren about how getting old doesn't mean your life is over. We can't even scrape the surface of all there is to know and learn about our world, even if we lived to be a thousand. When we get older we have the time to examine life more closely so we see things we missed in our busy years.
One of the plans for this summer is a drive to New Brunswick for a family reunion. My 17 year old granddaughter is going with me and I'm ecstatic over the opportunity to spend that time with her. The New Brunswick part of the family is on my husband's side (so, therefore, my granddaughter's) and she'll have a wonderful time meeting and mingling with her blood relatives. I'm going to have a wonderful time meeting and mingling, too, just because I enjoy their company.
These days I avoid being anywhere that isn't pleasant and fun. I've learned the secret of walking away from unpleasantness because there's too much good stuff in every direction. I have the right "attitude".
When Things Go Wrong
Sometimes there is a neat order to catastrophes. I happen to have a few spots of excema on my face that my dermatologist hasn't been able to clear up to my satisfaction even after years of going to him. This past winter my sister-in-law gave me one of her prescription creams to try and it worked beautifully so I made an appointment with my family doctor to obtain my own prescription.
Yesterday I dropped a showcase lid on my nose which cut it badly enough that it bled quite a bit but didn't break it. When I went to my doctor about the excema cream later in the day his nurse saw my nose and insisted on giving me a tetanus shot. Apparently you should keep your tetanus shots updated and I haven't had one for ages.
Then I showed the doctor my sister-in-law's cream that I wanted a prescription of and she told me that cream should never be used on the face (my sister-in-law uses it on her leg). She then made an appointment for me with a new dermatologist.
What I learned today...don't use other people's prescription medicine!...keep your tetanus shots updated!...see your family doctor regularly so they know what you've been up to!
Yesterday I dropped a showcase lid on my nose which cut it badly enough that it bled quite a bit but didn't break it. When I went to my doctor about the excema cream later in the day his nurse saw my nose and insisted on giving me a tetanus shot. Apparently you should keep your tetanus shots updated and I haven't had one for ages.
Then I showed the doctor my sister-in-law's cream that I wanted a prescription of and she told me that cream should never be used on the face (my sister-in-law uses it on her leg). She then made an appointment for me with a new dermatologist.
What I learned today...don't use other people's prescription medicine!...keep your tetanus shots updated!...see your family doctor regularly so they know what you've been up to!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Some Interesting Things I Saw Yesterday
I'll bet anyone reading my blog lately is bored to tears with the ongoing saga of my basement so I thought I'd add some humor here.
Yesterday I met my sister for coffee at the mall. We do this almost every Sunday and it's become one of the nicer moments of my week.
Anyone who is a "people watcher" should sit in a mall food court on a Sunday and just watch the humanity scurrying around.
I saw a young lady wearing skin tight, low rise jeans and a midriff top. She was about 7-8 months pregnant and her bare belly was almost bigger than she was.
I saw many little "princess" girls, still wearing their frilly dresses from church.
I saw people talking animatedly on cell phones while their companions sat staring into space, bored.
I saw little family units where the Daddy took as much care of the children as the Mommy did.
I saw kids wearing those running shoes with little wheels under them. They scooted in and out of the crowds and it looked like fun.
I saw people sitting alone.
My sister and I sat there for about an hour sipping on Tim Horton's coffee and chatting about our lives and plans.
Maybe there were other people watchers in the crowd who happened to notice us, too. I hope they saw how happy we were.
Yesterday I met my sister for coffee at the mall. We do this almost every Sunday and it's become one of the nicer moments of my week.
Anyone who is a "people watcher" should sit in a mall food court on a Sunday and just watch the humanity scurrying around.
I saw a young lady wearing skin tight, low rise jeans and a midriff top. She was about 7-8 months pregnant and her bare belly was almost bigger than she was.
I saw many little "princess" girls, still wearing their frilly dresses from church.
I saw people talking animatedly on cell phones while their companions sat staring into space, bored.
I saw little family units where the Daddy took as much care of the children as the Mommy did.
I saw kids wearing those running shoes with little wheels under them. They scooted in and out of the crowds and it looked like fun.
I saw people sitting alone.
My sister and I sat there for about an hour sipping on Tim Horton's coffee and chatting about our lives and plans.
Maybe there were other people watchers in the crowd who happened to notice us, too. I hope they saw how happy we were.
Sad Day/Tough Love
Today I phoned a renovator and had him come up and tell me if he can finish what my handyman started. He showed up on time, took notes, and said it wasn't that big a job and he'd do it. He'll give me the price (gulp!) tomorrow.
He'd barely left the house when my handyman showed up at the door with tears in his eyes. He handed me my house key as I'd requested and cried as he explained he hadn't meant to cause me any trouble.
As angry as I was yesterday, the sight of someone in such mental anguish was heartbreaking. I did stand firm, though, and told him he'd left me in a real mess by tearing so much of the basement apart (without my permission) and then abandoning me with it still undone. He wanted to continue the job but I told him no, that I'd already hired someone else to do it.
This man is no demon. He had great intentions when he started redoing my basement but he seemed unable to stop himself from doing too much. Soon he was over his head in work and couldn't face it. The result was that he procrastinated for way too long and I finally lost patience.
I told him how disappointed I was that our relationship had soured over his lack of commitment to completing what had started out as a relatively simple reno job. All he could see was that he'd put more money and time into it than I'd paid for...but he couldn't understand that almost all of the work he'd done was nothing I'd asked for. As of today, 8 months from the beginning, my basement is a demolition zone with half the walls and ceiling gone.
Last Spring I hired this same man to paint the front porch. I asked that it be sanded and painted...it's a small porch. We settled on a price and then he discovered that the concrete was disintegrating so he put a layer of plywood on the porch and steps and painted it with some kind of pebbly stuff that looked great but cost a fortune...so I doubled the price we'd set. It took him 4 months to paint the porch. I'm a slow learner and sometimes dumb as dirt so what did I do? I hired him to redo the basement.
I am at fault for expecting him to do what was asked and get it done in a reasonable amount of time. I've known him for 40 years and should know by now that his personality doesn't allow for that kind of rational behaviour. He has a heart of gold but he follows his own rules and timetable. I deserve to be in the mess I'm in.
He'd barely left the house when my handyman showed up at the door with tears in his eyes. He handed me my house key as I'd requested and cried as he explained he hadn't meant to cause me any trouble.
As angry as I was yesterday, the sight of someone in such mental anguish was heartbreaking. I did stand firm, though, and told him he'd left me in a real mess by tearing so much of the basement apart (without my permission) and then abandoning me with it still undone. He wanted to continue the job but I told him no, that I'd already hired someone else to do it.
This man is no demon. He had great intentions when he started redoing my basement but he seemed unable to stop himself from doing too much. Soon he was over his head in work and couldn't face it. The result was that he procrastinated for way too long and I finally lost patience.
I told him how disappointed I was that our relationship had soured over his lack of commitment to completing what had started out as a relatively simple reno job. All he could see was that he'd put more money and time into it than I'd paid for...but he couldn't understand that almost all of the work he'd done was nothing I'd asked for. As of today, 8 months from the beginning, my basement is a demolition zone with half the walls and ceiling gone.
Last Spring I hired this same man to paint the front porch. I asked that it be sanded and painted...it's a small porch. We settled on a price and then he discovered that the concrete was disintegrating so he put a layer of plywood on the porch and steps and painted it with some kind of pebbly stuff that looked great but cost a fortune...so I doubled the price we'd set. It took him 4 months to paint the porch. I'm a slow learner and sometimes dumb as dirt so what did I do? I hired him to redo the basement.
I am at fault for expecting him to do what was asked and get it done in a reasonable amount of time. I've known him for 40 years and should know by now that his personality doesn't allow for that kind of rational behaviour. He has a heart of gold but he follows his own rules and timetable. I deserve to be in the mess I'm in.
The Aftermath
This is what happens when you complain to your handyman that you're not happy that he's taken 8 months to get a job less than half done. He quits.
I wasn't surprised but I was a little overwhelmed with the mess I was left with and one I wasn't capable of fixing myself. After a short time of feeling totally lost I pulled myself together and decided to hire a professional. All it takes is money but putting up with a torn up basement and an out-of-control demolition "friend" for 8 months used up too much energy and peace of mind on my part.
The only thing my handyman did that I asked for was to take down one offending wall. Then he proceeded to tear down ceilings and walls that I'd wanted to keep! You can only imagine how scary that is and how much misguided faith I had in this man to know what he was doing. In the end, I discovered I'd allowed an untrustworthy individual too much leeway.
I'll keep you posted on my progress in finding someone to complete the work started. Wish me luck!
I wasn't surprised but I was a little overwhelmed with the mess I was left with and one I wasn't capable of fixing myself. After a short time of feeling totally lost I pulled myself together and decided to hire a professional. All it takes is money but putting up with a torn up basement and an out-of-control demolition "friend" for 8 months used up too much energy and peace of mind on my part.
The only thing my handyman did that I asked for was to take down one offending wall. Then he proceeded to tear down ceilings and walls that I'd wanted to keep! You can only imagine how scary that is and how much misguided faith I had in this man to know what he was doing. In the end, I discovered I'd allowed an untrustworthy individual too much leeway.
I'll keep you posted on my progress in finding someone to complete the work started. Wish me luck!
Sunday, April 22, 2007
More Than Disappointed
I've often read or heard about people who began renovations on their homes and then had the renovator run out on them, but now I feel as though I'm in the same boat.
Last September my neighbor's son, whom I'd known most of his life, began a renovation job for me. He was supposed to replace one wall in a basement sewing room, paint the ceilings in 2 rooms and lay laminate floors. Before I knew it he'd removed the existing carpet and vinyl flooring, most of the walls and all of the ceilings (replaced one), moved one wall out 18", installed pot lights, rerouted some ductwork, and undercoated the walls remaining. Then he stopped.
This sounds good until you realize that 8 months later I have an unlivable basement and he's not showing up to finish the job.
Before he started I was capable of doing the bit of repainting needed and maybe even replacing the damaged wall with new drywall...might have needed help from my buddy, Carole, who can do anything! I could even have lived with the old carpeting if I had to and I would still have had a usable basement. Right now it's a nightmare down there and I'm worried I may have to hire someone to finish it.
This handyman, my old friend, has caused a rift in our friendship because he chose to do extra renovations in the basement instead of the few things I asked of him. Now he's bogged down, has added unnecessary expense to the flat fee I paid him, and I'm worse off than I started. Where do I go from here?
This is basically a good guy and I feel confident he'll at least come close to finishing the job...in time. The shame of it is that he's ruined a long time friendship not only with me but with my daughters. All because of a promise unkept.
Last September my neighbor's son, whom I'd known most of his life, began a renovation job for me. He was supposed to replace one wall in a basement sewing room, paint the ceilings in 2 rooms and lay laminate floors. Before I knew it he'd removed the existing carpet and vinyl flooring, most of the walls and all of the ceilings (replaced one), moved one wall out 18", installed pot lights, rerouted some ductwork, and undercoated the walls remaining. Then he stopped.
This sounds good until you realize that 8 months later I have an unlivable basement and he's not showing up to finish the job.
Before he started I was capable of doing the bit of repainting needed and maybe even replacing the damaged wall with new drywall...might have needed help from my buddy, Carole, who can do anything! I could even have lived with the old carpeting if I had to and I would still have had a usable basement. Right now it's a nightmare down there and I'm worried I may have to hire someone to finish it.
This handyman, my old friend, has caused a rift in our friendship because he chose to do extra renovations in the basement instead of the few things I asked of him. Now he's bogged down, has added unnecessary expense to the flat fee I paid him, and I'm worse off than I started. Where do I go from here?
This is basically a good guy and I feel confident he'll at least come close to finishing the job...in time. The shame of it is that he's ruined a long time friendship not only with me but with my daughters. All because of a promise unkept.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Doing Nothing
After a bit of yard work today I sat myself down on a patio chair and propped my feet up on another and did nothing. I did nothing for about 3 hours, just watched the birds pulling worms out of the ground and a couple of squirrels making out on a tree limb. It's been so long since I sat and did nothing at all that I was amazed it wasn't boring.
My yard has a lot of full grown trees which provide shade in the summer but, since the leaves haven't appeared yet, the yard was lovely and sunny.
I have new neighbors on one side, a young couple with an 11 month old baby named Felix. Odd name but beautiful baby! We gabbed for a while over the fence and they seem like a nice couple.
This was one of those lazy, warm spring days when we should stop whatever else we're doing and just enjoy the moment. As I sat contentedly, sipping on Diet Pepsi and perusing my kingdom (or queendom), I thought how lucky I was to be here...doing nothing.
My yard has a lot of full grown trees which provide shade in the summer but, since the leaves haven't appeared yet, the yard was lovely and sunny.
I have new neighbors on one side, a young couple with an 11 month old baby named Felix. Odd name but beautiful baby! We gabbed for a while over the fence and they seem like a nice couple.
This was one of those lazy, warm spring days when we should stop whatever else we're doing and just enjoy the moment. As I sat contentedly, sipping on Diet Pepsi and perusing my kingdom (or queendom), I thought how lucky I was to be here...doing nothing.
Saturday Mishmash
Well, here I sit at 8:25 A.M. wearing shorts and waiting for the temperature outside to at least come close to 70 degrees before I venture out. Yesterday was gorgeous and I got lots of yard work done so it looks pretty good out there. Today promises to be even warmer and I'm prepared...I just have to wait a few hours.
I heard on the news that the family of the Virginia Tech gunman issued a response to the actions of their son/brother. It was so sad to hear such a heartfelt apology from that family. It's obvious they're suffering in many ways.
I'm not sure I understand how anyone with a close, strong family can ever do anything to hurt or shame that family. My own daughters grew up always wanting to earn their father's respect (mine, too, but the emphasis was on their Dad). I suppose if you felt disenfranchised from your family then their feelings wouldn't count for much.
My cousin phoned me yesterday and asked if she could visit me in Florida next winter. Of course I said yes but I was feeling "oh, god, noooo!". She's a nice person but she drinks too much and has the foulest mouth I've ever heard. She sure wouldn't fit in with the retired folks at my senior park. Oh well, I've got 6 months to figure something out.
Right now the sun is shining brightly and it's about 55 degrees outside. My shorts and I are going to wait inside for a while yet.
I heard on the news that the family of the Virginia Tech gunman issued a response to the actions of their son/brother. It was so sad to hear such a heartfelt apology from that family. It's obvious they're suffering in many ways.
I'm not sure I understand how anyone with a close, strong family can ever do anything to hurt or shame that family. My own daughters grew up always wanting to earn their father's respect (mine, too, but the emphasis was on their Dad). I suppose if you felt disenfranchised from your family then their feelings wouldn't count for much.
My cousin phoned me yesterday and asked if she could visit me in Florida next winter. Of course I said yes but I was feeling "oh, god, noooo!". She's a nice person but she drinks too much and has the foulest mouth I've ever heard. She sure wouldn't fit in with the retired folks at my senior park. Oh well, I've got 6 months to figure something out.
Right now the sun is shining brightly and it's about 55 degrees outside. My shorts and I are going to wait inside for a while yet.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Momma Squirrel
This morning I looked out onto the backyard and saw a squirrel scurrying down a tree trunk. Wouldn't it be interesting if this was the Momma squirrel? I watched as the squirrel made a beeline for the spot we'd put the baby yesterday. It must have been the Momma!
How fascinating that some human mothers can walk away from their babies without a backward glance and this little animal has shown such touching commitment to it's offspring.
How fascinating that some human mothers can walk away from their babies without a backward glance and this little animal has shown such touching commitment to it's offspring.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Death of a Baby Squirrel
Does anyone remember the little lizard I killed in Florida? I mistakenly thought it was a cockroach and emptied a bottle of Raid on the poor thing. Well, today I killed a baby squirrel.
It was sunny and gorgeous out today...for a Canadian Spring...and I thought it was a good opportunity to do some yard work. I gathered all my tools (broom, rake, garbage containers) and started cleaning up the twigs and branches left behind when one of my sons-in-law (haven't found out yet which one) trimmed the big tree in the backyard away from the roof after I left last Fall.
I was sweeping off the deck when I noticed a huge nest of the twigs stuck in behind the awning on the upper deck. I often get bird's nests in there and that's what I thought it was so I decided to get rid of it before any birds laid their eggs in it.
As I poked and pushed with the end of the broom in an attempt to dislodge the nest, I sort of wondered what kind of bird would build a nest out of such large twigs. Just then, most of the nest came free and a little hairless creature fell out barely able to hang on to what was left in the awning. It creeped me out to see this little thing because I couldn't tell if it was a squirrel or a rat.
I raced into the house and called the S.P.C.A. who were not the least concerned that this little creature might be freezing to death and who told me to call Animal Control at City Hall. Animal Control told me to phone a pest removal company. I phoned one of those companies and they would be delighted to come to my house and take care of the problem...for $240 plus taxes. I told them, "no thanks!".
My 2 grandsons arrived moments later to help me with my yard work and I showed them the nest and the poor little thing (most likely a squirrel) which was now laying on the patio, possibly dead or dying. My big, strapping grandsons didn't want to go near it at first but I think I shamed them when I moaned "do you really want your poor old Gramma to handle it?".
After a great deal of arguing who was going to move it, Chooch got a dustpan and handed it to Nick who tenderly picked the little creature up and laid it way in the back of the yard under a bush. Chooch gathered what he could of the nest and covered the little guy up. We hoped it's mother would come back and tend to it before it froze to death.
I'm afraid their work was probably in vain and I'm becoming a serial killer of wildlife. It sort of ruined the day for all of us.
It was sunny and gorgeous out today...for a Canadian Spring...and I thought it was a good opportunity to do some yard work. I gathered all my tools (broom, rake, garbage containers) and started cleaning up the twigs and branches left behind when one of my sons-in-law (haven't found out yet which one) trimmed the big tree in the backyard away from the roof after I left last Fall.
I was sweeping off the deck when I noticed a huge nest of the twigs stuck in behind the awning on the upper deck. I often get bird's nests in there and that's what I thought it was so I decided to get rid of it before any birds laid their eggs in it.
As I poked and pushed with the end of the broom in an attempt to dislodge the nest, I sort of wondered what kind of bird would build a nest out of such large twigs. Just then, most of the nest came free and a little hairless creature fell out barely able to hang on to what was left in the awning. It creeped me out to see this little thing because I couldn't tell if it was a squirrel or a rat.
I raced into the house and called the S.P.C.A. who were not the least concerned that this little creature might be freezing to death and who told me to call Animal Control at City Hall. Animal Control told me to phone a pest removal company. I phoned one of those companies and they would be delighted to come to my house and take care of the problem...for $240 plus taxes. I told them, "no thanks!".
My 2 grandsons arrived moments later to help me with my yard work and I showed them the nest and the poor little thing (most likely a squirrel) which was now laying on the patio, possibly dead or dying. My big, strapping grandsons didn't want to go near it at first but I think I shamed them when I moaned "do you really want your poor old Gramma to handle it?".
After a great deal of arguing who was going to move it, Chooch got a dustpan and handed it to Nick who tenderly picked the little creature up and laid it way in the back of the yard under a bush. Chooch gathered what he could of the nest and covered the little guy up. We hoped it's mother would come back and tend to it before it froze to death.
I'm afraid their work was probably in vain and I'm becoming a serial killer of wildlife. It sort of ruined the day for all of us.
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