It isn't what I'd first envisioned but it will do just fine. I just wanted a table to use for putting on makeup (which I seldom wear) and tweezing those unwanted hairs that keep popping up on my face.
I'd really wanted a proper antique dressing table but got worried about transporting bugs into my home so decided I had to buy new. Then I sadly discovered that new dressing tables were few, far between, and damned expensive for actually crappy construction. And so I settled on a sofa table because it was the right height and shallow width.
After searching the city for one I liked and could afford, I found this one pretty well by accident and like it a lot. It fits perfectly in the space allotted for it and holds all it needs to hold.
Notice the date on my photo! I really should try to figure out how to change this but when I get a new laptop this winter I won't be able to install this old Kodak photo program so it's not worth the bother. In any case, the photo was taken on July 28, 2014.
Now that I've purchased all the furniture I'll probably ever buy, I need to start making some decisions on what colors to paint the apartment rooms. Luckily I don't mind the light beige it's already painted so I can take my time. One thing for sure, the new colors will be light and not dark. I'm thinking pale lilac for my bedroom, pale green for the spare bedroom, pale green for the bathroom, and heaven knows what for the rest of the place.
Here is another little story from October, 2000.
Family life today is much different from when I was a child. More wives and mothers now work outside the home as well as inside and often have to develop short cuts in their housework.
My daughter, a working wife and mother, has a habit of emptying the clean dishes from the dishwasher as she needs them rather than emptying it completely and putting them in the cupboard. Her 4 year old son, Matt, has also become accustomed to this practice.
One day he opened the dishwasher to get a clean glass but my daughter stopped him by saying the dishes in there were dirty and hadn't been washed yet.
Matt stood there looking very puzzled with this new concept. Then he turned to his mother and demanded, "Well, where do we keep the clean glasses now?".
I've had more fun re-reading these little anecdotes from long ago and picturing my sweet little grandbabies as they were in those days. I love the sweet innocence of those grandbabies that I'm now seeing in my greatgrandbabies. Aren't I lucky to still be around to be able to relive it with another generation?
I've always written stories, mostly short stories about something that impressed me in some way. I have an old strongbox that held papers from quite a few years ago so I decided to empty it and give it to Don. I knew there were some of my old stories in it and it's always fun to reread what you've written in prior years and may have even forgotten about. This is one of them and it was apparently submitted to Reader's Digest in December, 2000. Funny, I've never received payment for it. LOL!
My 2 year old grandson, Jake, lives 1500 miles from my husband and myself (Poppa & Gramma) so we seldom get to see him.
When Jake was an infant, Poppa would quack like a duck to make him laugh and he discovered that the quack was also a way of identifying himself when he spoke to the baby on the telephone. If the person he heard on the phone quacked, then Jake knew it was his Poppa.
We recently visited Jake after not seeing him for five months and, as expected, he didn't recognize us. He was very upset by two strangers approaching him and he began to cry...until my husband quacked. Jakes eyes widened and a smile burst upon his little face. "Poppa!", Jake yelled!
Now, isn't that a sweet story?
Nick brought Nolan down to stay with me today so I had to take a chance and show him the baby birds. I'd noticed a lessening of daddy sparrow's incessant chirping but I was surprised to see only one baby sparrow still in the nest. The others had flown the coop, so to speak, and I hadn't seen it happen.
This afternoon I noticed a distinct silence out on the balcony and had to check the nest one more time. It was empty. The last baby sparrow had found the nerve to jump off my 6th floor balcony.
The silence is welcome in a way but also a bit sad. These tiny little creatures followed their instincts to painstakenly build their nest of twigs, paper, and feathers and then stayed and protected their babies until they could fly out into the great unknown. In a small way, this is much like what we humans do for our own offspring.
Nature is truly a wonderful and mysterious thing.
I had a clear idea of what I wanted for new livingroom lamps before I sold the house but settled for a couple of cheap imitations until I could find what I really wanted. The above pictures are the lamps I bought today after giving up on my original idea. The pictures don't do the lamps justice, though, because they're prettier than my photos. I love the way they look with the teak tables, too. The tables were my super yard sale finds for $5 each and they're worth about $400-500 each. The lamps were moderately expensive (at least for me) but it's all part of my children's inheritance. LOL!
I got weighed this morning and hadn't lost a pound from last week and it depressed me a bit. And so I ate too much today but now I'm done with that and tomorrow I go back to the old grind of being more careful.
Tomorrow is another day, right, and a perfect time to start doing better at whatever you do wrong. Somehow that doesn't sound right but I'm too tired to care at the moment.
I wasn't going to look at the baby sparrows again until they emerged from their nest but Faye and Donna wanted to see them so I did. They look like tiny full feathered birds! I know that means they could take a flying leap off my balcony any day now and I might miss them altogether. It's nerve wracking to replace the planter that sits in front of their nest, though, so I really am not going to look again.
Faye, Donna, and I went out for lunch and then to Len's Mill Store to look for fabric. I found a lovely piece to cover the cushions on the sofa but it was kind of expensive. I'm going to just slip cover the ones I have like a pillow sham so I can take it off and wash it or just easily change the cover for another one.
We came back here for tea and talk and I was sad to see the afternoon end. I've know both of these ladies since I was in my teens and it's so nice to just yack with people who have been in your life for this long. But then there are people who slip into your life and you immediately feel as though you've known them forever (like Sylvia). I guess it's just nice to spend time with people you really care about no matter how long you've known them.
I wasn't going to bother my little nestlings any more because I was afraid I might squash one of them when I put the planter back in place but I took a chance and showed them to Cindy and Don this morning. They have feathers and almost no room in the nest. I'm hoping to see them at least once more before they fly away but I won't move the planter to do it.
I have sort of odd feelings about them flying off because it will be a lot quieter around here when they do. Daddy sparrow won't squawk all day to keep me away from them. I'm assuming he'll just fly off and live his own life somewhere.
Cindy called me yesterday with an invitation to go out for breakfast this morning and, of course, I said yes. I seldom turn down an invitation to go out for a meal. We went to the "Fifties Diner" that I've come to think of as my home away from home and we had a great breakfast. Then they came back to my apartment so Don could hang my full length mirror. I am such a lucky old gal to have help like this.
I'd started a Swedish weaving afghan for Don's mother and discovered I'd stupidly put in 2 extra stitches in one spot so the rest of the pattern couldn't go in. It took forever to take out what I'd already done and start over but it was worth it. Sometimes we can just fake it by calling it our new pattern but not in this case. Sometimes we just have to accept the only way is to remove and start over.
I have a few projects on the go right now. The biggest job ahead is to re-organize my crafts and probably dispose of some of them. I really want to buy an antique dressing table and that's why I got rid of a shelving unit and need to re-organize but maybe wanting the dressing table is a blessing in disguise. It's forcing me to cut back on crafts I may never even start. I'm much too lazy to make as many plans as I have when it comes to crafts. It's better when I just jump right into an idea and follow up on it immediately.
Well, life is what you make of it and one of my driving forces is to keep mine uncluttered. I'll take pictures of the new dressing table when I get it...I'm hoping the seller will deliver.
I got it into my head that I'd really like a dressing table but there was no room for one. I'm determined not to overstuff my sweet apartment so, if I get the table, something had to go.
I like my bedroom just the way it is but I haven't been happy with the neat but crowded condition of the spare room. I know I could organize it better than I have and maybe, just maybe either get rid of some crafts or store them in the basement locker. Every time I entered the room and looked at my stash of stuff I couldn't imagine where I'd move it to, though, but where there's a will there's a way. I'm stubborn.
This morning I decided to make a stab at it and by piling some stuff in a hamper to take to Florida which I can store in the car trunk right now and by re-organizing my crafts, I actually cleared the big shelving unit. Then, like a fool, toted it precariously down to my basement locker only to find it was too tall. Crap! I knew I should have measured first but one of my faults is that, when I want something done, I want it done right now. Stupid, I know.
There was no way I was going to struggle the damn thing all the way back up to my apartment so I carted it to the back door of the building where we put things we don't want but hope someone else does. I was sweating like a stuck pig but quite proud of myself that I'd accomplished it at all. I really do feel a great sense of satisfaction when I succeed at a difficult task.
Now I have to re-organize my crafts in the spare room and there will be a perfect spot for my new dressing table when I find it. I want an antique one, the gaudier the better, and it has to come with delivery because I hate inconveniencing my kids. My hope is to find one at a yard sale or used furniture store but I'm in no hurry and will wait until I find the perfect one for me.
When I checked my baby sparrows yesterday I saw that they're growing so big that they're starting to fall out of the nest...note the skinny little leg hanging there.
I also discovered the source of irritation that causes daddy sparrow to chirp non-stop. It's me. If he can't see me, he doesn't chirp. Unfortunately, my favorite comfy chair is right next to the patio doors where I am in full sight while I sit there. I'm getting anxious for my baby sparrows to grow up and leave home.
Every time I look at them, though, it fills me with wonder at the fragility of life and the instincts most of us are born with to rear our babies safely. Birth is a miracle but so is the instinct to protect our young even when they become adults.
The baby sparrows are growing fast, still with no feathers. The Momma sparrow grows increasingly upset the older her babies get and, though she didn't dive-bomb me as I took the picture, she flew awfully close and squawked all the way.
I love having this little nest of babies on the balcony but would have to get rid of them if it was a nest of squirrels. I'm still traumatized by the times the hideous things invaded my attic.
I'm not sure how I'd get rid of a nest of squirrels but it would have to involve my poor grandsons. Knowing Matt, he'd probably take them and set them up in a safe place far away from his Gramma.
The babies have grown noticeably but now I'm afraid to check them out again. I don't think I've ever seen a nest of baby birds when they weren't milling around and opening their beaks but this morning they were sleeping. It was apparent that they were breathing but I started to worry that my interference by taking pictures might end up in them dying or being abandoned by their mother. And so I'm going to give it a rest and stop taking photos for a while.
I carefully checked the nest yesterday so I could show Nash the eggs but found tiny babies instead. This time, Momma sparrow flew just a short distance and was very distressed so I returned the plant to the planter, thereby hiding her little brood from dangerous eyes.
The babies are really ugly little critters with pink skin and beaks that open unbelievably wide when they sense anyone near that might be bringing food. But then, they are so tender and helpless that you soften just looking at them.
I'll check again in a few days to see how much they've grown. I wish I could find my new camera which would take much clearer photos but I'm completely confused about where it is. I hadn't planned on leaving it in Florida but, if it isn't here, then I sure hope I find it in the trailer this fall.
I'd kind of wondered why a little sparrow would shoot out from behind this planter every time I watered but it wasn't until I decided to switch the potted plants that I found out why.
This year I bought a lot of complete potted plants instead of planting everything individually so I just sat them on top of the large planters on the balcony. The other day I decided to change some around, just the way you would furniture. When I lifted the pot from this location I was surprised to find the sweetest, most intricate nest full of speckled eggs. I knew they were sparrow eggs because of the little sparrow who always seemed to be there.
Kim has a robin's nest over the light at her front door and we thought it was kind of late for birds to be laying eggs but I guess not. It will be fun to watch them hatch and then learn to fly. I hope my nosy presence won't be too disturbing for Momma sparrow.
These photos were taken about 8:30 this evening after a rain shower. I first noticed it was a double rainbow but then was amazed to see it was a complete rainbow with a clear beginning, arch, and end.
It was cute that the end was on the escarpment just past a lighted cross.
As I finished my shower this morning and struggled into my undies, it dawned on me why women might start their day a little snarly compared to men.
First, we pull on tight bra and panties. Many men shrug on loose boxer shorts.
Second, we struggle with hair that usually needs styling, curlers, blow dryers. Men often have hair so short it doesn't even need to be combed.
Third, we take time to choose the right co-ordinating outfit. Most men wear dark pants and light shirt of varying and always co-ordinating shades.
Fourth, we have to choose the right jewelry to wear with the carefully chosen outfit. Men slip on a watch.
I understand that women usually take great care to look their best when they leave the house but men seem to achieve the same effect with a lot less fuss.
This makes me testy.
I think I've always decorated to satisfy my own tastes and not anyone elses so choosing a colorful floral print for a Duncan Fyfe style chair suits me just fine.
I bought the fabric at Fabricland and then borrowed the staple gun from Frank and Donna. Kim came down just before lunch yesterday to help me and I'm so glad she did. First off, I couldn't put enough pressure on the staple gun to get the staples into the chair so Kim took over. She had more strength but still not enough so we had to hammer the staples in. Secondly, we too often had the gun facing the wrong way and it's a miracle we didn't staple ourselves.
We finished one chair and I was ecstatic with the transformation. The old fabric was a washed out ivory and now they looked so pretty. But as we almost finished the second chair, a staple got stuck in the gun and Kim had to take it apart to clear it. Not the best idea. We couldn't figure out how to put it together again and there was no way I could return it to Frank in that condition so we went out and bought a new one. I believe in returning borrowed items the way I got them so I had no other choice.
The new gun worked just fine and we finished the 4 chairs in no time. We had lots of material left over so Kim wanted to recover a bench in the bedroom but I wouldn't let her. Dennis had recovered that bench when he was ill and I'll never change it.
Anyway, I'm very happy with the new chair covers and don't care one bit that they don't match anything else. They are pretty and they make me smile.
Nolan won't be 5 until July 10th but his party was held yesterday...a perfect sunny and warm day. Many of the family members were there...2 Grammas, 4 cousins, 2 uncles, 2 aunts. Also attending were 4 or 5 of Nolan's classmates.
Nick and Natasha had arranged a lovely barbecue and also a face painter for the kids. To describe him as a face painter doesn't do him justice. He is an artist! The boys all chose animals and the girls chose butterflies. HMM! I do believe the difference in the sexes does start at an early age.
I was very impressed with the behaviour of the children. All had fun, some more exhuberantly than others (the boys) but all very well behaved. I remembered my Shelley's 4th birthday party where the children got completely out of my control with one child biting another and a tiny frightened child standing in a corner crying her heart out. I wondered if the modern practice of sending our babies off to nursery schools and pre-schools might be paying off some benefits.
Nolan would have loved to gather up all his presents and go off by himself to play with them but was easily persuaded to hold off until his guests went home. I remember a birthday party for Cindy when she was maybe 7 and she simply disappeared from her party. I found her hiding and playing with her presents. It's perfectly normal.
I loved the party and I loved seeing how many family members were there to celebrate it with him. He's a lucky little boy.
Not many people are aware that I have a fourth daughter. She may not be my biological daughter but I've loved her like a daughter for many years. I've known Isabel since she was a child but we didn't become close until she moved back to the neighborhood and I got to know her as an adult. She's always amazed and impressed me with what a strong and really terrific woman she's become.
I recently found out she has cancer. There's that rotten, son of a bitchin' word I hate to hear. It means gut wrenching fear, treatments galore, and an indeterminate future for the person afflicted. For those who love them, it means gut wrenching fear but hope that this time the treatments will work.
I know so many people who have been diagnosed with cancer, some more than once, but who have beat the bastardly disease so that does give me hope. Isabel is one tough cookie and she will fight the good fight with all she's got. She has a close and loving family to support her and fight for her, too.
Cancer is not the end of the world. True, some don't conquer it but more and more do than ever before so we have to trust the doctors who direct our treatment. They are the experts and no-one tries harder to beat the disease than they do.
I believe in holistic medicine,too. One holistic course of treatment is to visualize the cancer and demolish it with your thoughts. Sounds a little crazy but the power of thought in harming or helping our bodies is well known. If we can make ourselves sick, why can't we make ourselves well? I believe that one day it will be second nature to self heal our illnesses and that no chemicals or medications will be needed. I also believe in faith healing of others...sending healing thoughts. That's what I'll do for my Isabel. Let the doctors do their best and I'll do mine because I have to do something.
I'm intent on doing as much for myself as I can but, when I do need help, I'm not afraid to ask for it. Now, I can change lightbulbs with the best of them but if the ceiling is high and it requires removal of a shade then I need help. The reason is that I have trouble enough going up a stepladder beyond one step but, if I have to lean back and take the time to remove a shade, dizziness will overtake me. And so I asked my grandson, Matt, to do it for me. He did and with no squawking or complaint, thank you very much.
I have good and reliable people in my life that I can count on when I need them. I am blessed and I know it.
I hope I spelled that right because misspellings also irritate me. I've always known that my sense of inner balance means that I like to see a certain type of alignment and symmetry in my environment but, while sitting on the toilet this morning, I noticed the floor mat was not quite straight and it bothered me a lot. Of course, I straightened it out or it would have bugged me every time I was in the bathroom.
Now, I can tolerate a little dust and dirt but items have to be set in a way that it doesn't irritate my senses. I guess I have my own particular brand of pheng shui...hope I spelled that right, too. I love language but I want it spelled correctly.
As we get older more little things start to irritate us for some reason. Maybe it's because we have more time on our hands to dwell on little irritants. I cannot abide the practice of men wearing their pants under their undies and I can't calm my irritation when I see it. I'm trying but so far no go. I try to tell myself that it's not my business how someone else dresses but I can't get past the insulted feeling of being mooned.
Anyone seeing my spare bedroom and the mass of crafts I've stored there would doubt I need things to be properly in their place but that mess is neat in my eyes. At least I've convinced myself it is. But I do spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to diminish my stock so that I don't need tote boxes to handle it all. One day.
My daughters and I were talking last evening about another pet peeve of mine. They were both willing to accept a friend who was under stress telling them to f... off, at least the first time it happened. I, on the other hand, would dump that jerk the very first time it ever happened because it is so offensive to me. I don't believe anyone needs a so-called friend who would speak like that to us under any circumstances.
Now on a happier note. My beautiful Matt finally got his full driver's permit yesterday and I'm very proud of how far he's come since his wild childhood. Matt was one of those kids his teachers thought had out-of-control ADHD but that was just his nature. If we hadn't loved him so much one of us would have killed him in those days. But, as he's matured, his sweet and gentle nature has emerged over and above his impetuous one and he's a joy to be around. I love him.
And those are my thoughts for today.
I sat out on the balcony this evening with a glass of wine in one hand and my eyes glued to the horizon where I could see fireworks in the sky in many different directions. I love Canada...not just because I was lucky enough to be born here but because I had ancestors who recognized the pure potential of this vast country. This is Canada Day and we're 157 years old. Sounds young for a country, doesn't it?
Canada isn't like other countries. Someone said we have drive by yellings instead of drive by shootings...not quite the truth but closer to it than not. We're a multicultural country where many nationalities can immigrate and make a safe home for themselves. I wish we blended a little better than we do but maybe that will happen as the years go by. I like the idea of preserving our heritage but I also like the idea of blending heritages because that's the way to better understanding of cultural differences.
I love my country and appreciate the fact that Canada once accepted my ancestors who left their birth countries to pursue a better life here.
Happy 157th Birthday, Canada!
We all look at time in different ways and often don't appreciate that time is all we have here. When we're young and struggling with job, home, kids, and family, we never seem to have enough time to fit it all in. Therefore we usually can't find enough contemplation time that's needed for emotional growth.
And then there are those who don't find enough to do to fill the hours of the day and they suffer from boredom and loneliness...all of their own making but still a sad state of affairs.
One of the most significant instances of time is when our hours here on earth are numbered, when illness or age impose a deadline we might or might not be ready to meet. Time, in that case, becomes more precious than gold.
There is time wasted...waiting needlessly, being with people you don't care for, or deliberately harming your body (smoking, overeating, drug use). Time can't be set aside to be used at a later date. It's now or never so we should use it wisely.
Time is what you make of it and it matters how you choose to use it. The smart ones will remember that each day is a gift and we're here for a purpose. We're here to learn the value of kindness and love and not to practice cruelty and hatred. If, in the end, we haven't learned that simple lesson then we've wasted a great opportunity.
I adore this kid. He's just so darned perfect and looks so much like his father that I can't help but love him to bits.
Well, maybe not so perfect. I picked him up yesterday around 4:30 and we went looking for a restaurant that would serve him spaghetti (his request) and ended up at the "50's Diner" where they brought him a huge dish of speghetti and sauce. I found out he doesn't like sauce but would accept some butter on his speghetti. Funny, but that's how Tyson ate spaghetti when he was Nolan's age.
Anyway, Nolan is very independent and while he has some idea about putting his fork in the spaghetti and twirling it he didn't understand he couldn't then then just lift his fork straight out or the spaghetti would fall off. And he wouldn't let me help him. We battled for a while until he let me cut his speghetti into smaller pieces and he ate almost the whole thing. I think we'll stick to burgers and fries from now on, though.
We blew bubbles out on the balcony for a while and then I let him watch cartoons until 9 P.M. when he was more than ready for bed. I tucked him in and never heard a peep out of him until 6:30 this morning. What an angel!
Our plans for the day are to do a little bit of yard saleing later in the morning (not much because the temps should be around 30C (90F) and then have lunch before picking up Kim to shop for his birthday present at Toys R Us. His 5th birthday is on July 10th.
I'm so happy to have this time with him and to know how comfortable he is with his GG. I honestly believe that a loving family, the larger the better, is what it takes to help a child develop into a confident and successful adult. I hope he'll always remember how much his GG loves him.
I once told my grandson, Kyle, that we never stop learning no matter how old we get but I wasn't truly aware how exciting it is to learn something new. Dealing with a computer, we seniors are tested every day on how to handle any given situation the darned thing throws at us but we do learn, even if it's slowly.
When I conquer a problem in any area, I know my aging brain cells are still alive and functioning. Most of the seniors I know are like this and I can't understand the seniors who give in to age as an end to learning or enjoying life. The brain is a magnificent organ, one of which we apparently only use a small portion. Just think of what we humans could do if we utilized the whole thing!
I often half apologize for my ignorance when I tell someone how I have overcome a problem (usually on the computer) but I shouldn't do that. Never apologize for success no matter how insignificant it might seem to others. Every obstacle we overcome in life is a success for us because it broadens our abilities.
Now Kyle started and stopped his college education 3 times but he is now fully ensconced in his classes for the 4th time. Do you think my words to him when he was a child stuck with him? I hope it helped him to understand that it's never too late to learn.
I hated history and geography when I was in school so I don't know if the subject of slavery in Canada ever came up. Until just last week I'd lived in my little dream world of smugly believing we Canadians had never involved ourselves in the repugnant practice of slavery. I was enlightened to my mistake by 3 immigrants...granted, they immigrated here many, many years ago but they still knew more about Canadian history than I did.
Indeed, slavery was practiced in Canada (mainly the eastern provinces) until it was formally abolished in 1834. The last known previous slave died right here in Ontario in 1871. I believe most slaves in Canada were aboriginals (natives) but many black slaves were brought here by immigrants from Europe. I am still astounded that this terrible practice isn't widely known.
Slavery is an inhumane thing to do to a human being. Today, we know this and the fact that it happened in our country less than 200 years ago is something we shouldn't ignore. History can teach us to be a better generation but we have to have clear and factual accounts in order for us to learn.
Just as the concentration camps in Germany should never be forgotten, we also need to know how slavery and all the horrors that come with it happened right here at home.
I don't know why we live only to die in the end. It's one of those mysteries of life that we may or may not ever find the answer. As we age, death becomes more a part of our lives as friends and relatives pass on and we know we're heading in the same direction. I'm not afraid of dying myself but I hate the thought of losing people now who are important parts of my life. But therein lies the mystery and the inevitability of life...we all die in the end.
Because I have no religious affiliation, I've had to form my own beliefs of what happens to our spirit when our body gives out on us. I know I've written before about how mine had better go on to a beautiful garden where there is no evil ever again. Not much to ask for, is it? I have had many out-of-body experiences in my lifetime and know of others who have had the same experiences so I'm pretty sure there is an important part of me that will survive death of the body I'm carting around.
I deeply believe in having the choice of euthanasia when all hope is gone and the patient will only continue suffering until his/her final demise. It's interesting that Quebec is considering passing laws to allow it so hopefully Ontario will do the same soon. That is only humane.
If I'm right and that beautiful, peaceful garden is my destination when I'm finished on earth, why would it be right to hold me here if I'm in pain and suffering? It doesn't make sense.
No, I'm not in danger of leaving soon as far as I know. I'm not in pain and I'm enjoying my senior life very much but I know it can't go on forever. Many moons ago, Joyce and I agreed to euthanize one another when the time came but we joked that we'd also need to get a second opinion before taking that step.
Life is precious because of what we can gain from our limited time here. If we're lucky and make the right choices about what is really important in life...family, love, friendship, kindness...then our days on earth have been successful.
One of the most enjoyable ways to spend an hour or so on a summer's evening is to watch a group of 4 year olds learning to play t-ball.
Last night we watched a very sad and reluctant Nolan learning the game and it wasn't too promising at first. I'm sure his reluctance was because he didn't quite understand what he was supposed to do so he spent a lot of time drifting away from his team and clinging to his mother. She wisely would send him back out on the field, trying to be oblivious to his tears. I give him a lot of credit for actually returning to the field time and time again.
The diamond was filled with volunteer fathers that deserve a lot of credit for their valiant efforts in forming a wayward pile of 4 year old kids, some crying and many wandering, into a group that might become a team. Matt and Steve (not fathers yet) showed patience that amazed me.
Forced by parental pressure to stay on the field despite his intense reluctance, Nolan decided to show his defiance by standing like a statue. No problem..he was on the field. Then he got into the large group of little kids who were bunched together waiting to catch the ball the other team hit off the t-ball stand. At least he was now participating a little bit. Then it was his turn at bat and a whole new Nolan appeared...we weren't sure who he was anymore. He hit the ball and ran the bases. He smiled. From then on he was happy to be with his team, none of whom knew any more than he did. And that was the beginning of him learning t-ball. All worth the effort of parents and coaches.
A coach said it was like herding cats and that's exactly what it looked like. Kids wandering and being urged back in; kids crying because they were overwhelmed and being hugged by one of the coaches; kids jumping on top of each other to catch the ball...and Nolan being accidentally run over by another player and receiving the first injury of the game, a scraped knee that was bandaged by his mother before sending her crying and injured son back onto the field. She did the right thing.
T-ball is a right of passage for children. It's their first real foray into the realm of sportsmanship. It's where they learn what it means to belong to and support a team. This little group of 4 year old children learned something important last night and it's all thanks to the coaches who volunteered their time and efforts.
I haven't blogged lately because right now I have to use the laptop which is uncomfortable for me to type on. But I couldn't let the recent tragedy of the senseless murder of 3 New Brunswick Mounties go without expressing my thoughts.
People seem to murder others for their own selfish reasons. Either they feel like they're not getting what they think they deserve or they simply hate the world and want to hurt others as much as possible. It all boils down to a deep selfishness that they and their perceived problems are more important than another human being's life. The killer took the lives of 3 men who had families and children, were productive people in their jobs, and who had every right to live out their natural lives. The killer was an angry young man who set out to cause death and destruction to anyone who came into his way. I don't care why he was angry because he took the lives of 3 innocent human beings and he had no earthly right to do so.
If he hated life so much, he should have shot himself in the head instead of going out with the intention of killing others. In my mind, he is a worthless piece of humanity because of the harm he's caused with his tirade. It was a childish and selfish temper tantrum to draw attention to himself so that others would see how "important" he was. He's not.
Life has always been what you choose to make of it. The killer chose to make it worse and that tells you what kind of human being he is, useless and unimportant to the max.
Life is just too short to spend hours fighting with a computer that is malfunctioning. Apparently mine is older than I thought, too, so it only makes sense to bite the bullet and buy a new one. One good thing I found out is that I can get a new laptop but use a wireless keyboard with it...never knew that! One of the things I hate about using a laptop is having to extend my arms so high to type but this would make having a laptop instead of a desktop computer acceptable to me. Anna, Lisa, and Kim also made me understand that buying a more expensive laptop instead of a cheaper laptop plus a cheaper desktop is the way to go. I hate the thought of the cost but it really is cost efficient.
I don't know what I'd do without a computer. I'm on it for maybe 5-6 hours every day for e-mail, blogging, research, or casual interests. I much prefer it to watching the boob tube, especially since there's so little on T.V. worth watching. In earlier years, I did a lot of reading but that puts me to sleep now so I don't read as much as I should. The internet provides instant answers to any questions that cross my mind, too, and that's fun to explore.
Right now my plan is to have Matt remove the old desktop computer, set up my old laptop in it's place, and then hope it suffices for a few months until I gain the nerve to purchase an expensive laptop. The old one was giving me a little grief in Florida but it might have been mainly the icky internet service I have to use there. I'm hoping the cable internet I use now will make a big difference and allow me wait just a while before taking the plunge and buying a new laptop. We'll see.
I can't help it. When I listen to all those present or wannabe politicians spouting the same old promises they have no intention of keeping it disgusts me. Why other people believe them enough to vote for them is completely beyond my understanding. They always make promises to create more jobs, do wonders for retirees and teachers, and now they're promising more help for the people with mental disorders. Always the topic of the day! And they won't fulfill any of these promises...but their brain dead followers will still rally round them and cheer them on. Insane.
Elections get me down for another reason. Their campaign signs interfere with my recognition of yard sale signs because they look similar. I rarely yard sale any more but my eyes have been trained to spot a yard sale sign a mile away so I still react to them viscerally. When I realize it's only depicting a political candidate, I'm disappointed.
Political candidates make a lot of speeches and they usually have a little (or large) group of people standing behind them while they speak. That always looks comical to me, wondering why they are standing there like zombies. I think it's to make us think the candidate has a strong following and that's why we should believe them. It's a visual that doesn't ring true.
I know we need people to run our country but why can't some of them actually do the job they were elected to do? And why don't we, the public, have the right to demand they keep their campaign promises? And I think we should pay more attention to and support the politician who seems to be ganged up on by the others. The one being hooted and booed might be the only honest one in the bunch.
Today is really a do-nothing day, perfect for doing catch-up on odd jobs. I pay my rent with post dated cheques because I'm a little reticent about giving access to my bank accounts to too many people. I started writing out the darned cheques and ran out of them...who would have known? The people who work at my new bank have turned out to be very pleasant to do business with so I called to order new cheques over the phone. I found out that I can get 100 single cheques for free but it would cost me close to $50 to order the checkbooks with copies. Guess which ones I ordered!
Banks are gearing down the use of cheques at all so they're not making it easy for those of us who still want to use them. I can still get 100 free every year and I won't use those up but they're still nice to have handy.
I love having these do-nothing days where my time is completely my own. If there's a cupboard that could be cleaned out or a few phone calls to be made, these are the days to do it...it's my choice. Apartment living is much different from living in a house because houses are filled with odd jobs waiting to be done. It tires me just thinking about what I've escaped. When I was younger, I loved to putter in the garden on do-nothing days but skin cancer and age made that too much of a chore. Apartment living is my choice and my pleasure now.
And now for another coffee.
Kim was born when I was only 17 years old and I was as far away from being a responsible mother as a girl could be. I'd rarely even babysat so I knew nothing about babies and there I was with a 9 1/2 pound baby girl whose existence lay in my hands. Dennis had just turned 21 but was fully employed and a very responsible young man...but he knew nothing about babies, either, and came from a generation when the man of the family was only expected to bring home a paycheck and occasionally play with the children. He didn't change diapers, feed the baby, or get up in the night for one. I don't fault him because that was what was expected in those days.
It's nice to see that parenting style has changed and fathers now do everything except breast feed their babies. This is a win/win/win situation for all involved. The father gets to bond completely with his offspring, the baby has more Daddy time, and the mother gets some much needed rest.
But my Kimmie survived and grew into one of the most wonderful women I've ever been privileged to know. I guess she had to be strong to survive her precarious babyhood!
One of my Facebook friends always seems to have the woes of the world on their shoulders and it's not only sad to see but also off-putting. My daughter's gramma-in-law just passed away at 93 and that woman was a smiling wonder. At 93 you can bet she had physical ailments and tragedies at times in her life but she radiated happiness and enthusiasm and, partly because of that, she was a joy to be around. My own mother-in-law was like that, too.
Everyone suffers through bad events regularly throughout their lives but, if it's that way daily, then it just might have something to do with your attitude. The way you respond and deal with those bad days says a lot about you. If you're weak you'll let it diminish you but if you have just a little backbone you'll survive and flourish from the experience.
People like Lela and Ferne are inspiring to everyone around them. We all struggle through life but the best way to win the fight is to have a positive attitude and then nothing can really defeat us. I love my daughter, Kim's, favorite saying..."Live, Love, Laugh". How could you fail with that kind of attitude?
I listened to a wise psychologist on the news this morning who explained that disturbed people would watch all the publicity this story got and want it for themselves. That innocent people lost their lives to a deeply angry and psychotic individual wouldn't matter to them as long as they got the attention and publicity they felt they deserved. This is egotism taken to the extreme.
I often wonder why psychotics like this don't just take their own lives instead of first taking the lives of others but, of course, suicides don't get much attention. The answer seems to be that the public shouldn't dwell on the killer but on the victims and that seems to be what the newscasters have been doing lately.
But I'd like to know what drove the killer, who seemed to have so much...money and looks...to feel violently cheated because he didn't have more. He apparently never understood that his shortfalls came from his own personality. In real life, we usually reap what we sow but maybe he either didn't know how or was unable to blend in with others. That makes for a very lonely and angry person.
Most of us feel like that at times but most of us will never take the deadly step of striking out and hurting another person because that is something we could never do under any circumstances. Then, is it all only in the way we choose to deal with our problems? Or is it a physical mental illness that forces one to choose to kill?
I'm one of the many who believe that extremely violent video games and movies are a large part of the problem. They desensitize the participants to killing and the consequences which follow violence. Maybe the games and movies aren't as dangerous for strong minded individuals but what effect do they have on even slightly disturbed people? Time will tell.
The first recorded instance of mental illness should prohibit that person from ever in their life purchasing or owning a gun. Granted, there are other murder weapons available but a gun is what can cause the most damage. The 22 year old killer in this most recent instance possessed many guns legally and he had been mentally disturbed since he was a child.
Law makers in the United States should be ashamed that, even after Sandy Hook, they never took the correct action to put more restrictions on gun owners. The NRA should be ashamed that they fought gun restrictions. The rest of the citizens should be ashamed that they didn't put more pressure on their leaders to change the laws on gun control. Stricter gun control laws can only help.
Our bodies have such an amazing ability to heal that it's a wonder we ever die. Other than some severe bruising and discomfort, my wrist/hand is getting better every day...and that's on a 73+ year old body. I still have to wear the brace most of the day but it's to protect the area and not to stabilize it.
I'm sure that in the future humankind will discover that certain herbs will keep us from deteriorating and dying. It's only logical that we have everything we need right here on earth and that we can have immortality if only we can figure out the secret. I'm not sure I would want immortality but I certainly would want vigor up until my last day on earth.
On a sad note, my son-in-law's grandmother passed away yesterday and, though it's never easy to say goodbye to a much loved icon of the family, Lela lived a long life filled with love, fun, and a zest for living. I'll always remember her as a feisty and truly beautiful lady with a smile on her face. She leaves a painful hole in her family that can't ever be filled. Lela was special!
The older I get, the more afraid I am of falling and I did it again last Monday. Instead of removing the little barrier Cindy had on her deck to keep the dogs in, I stupidly decided to step over it. I didn't even hold on to the railing! The result was that my shoe hit the top of the barrier (a little table) and I went down like a ton of bricks. In the split second it took to fall, I remember trying to protect my knee so I hit the ground kind of oddly. I landed on the outside of my left leg but also hit the outside of my right hand. It hurt something wicked but I was really more embarrassed than physically hurt. You always feel like an idiot when you fall.
Cindy and Don felt terrible but I was convinced I hadn't broken anything so just left and drove home. The pain continued to get worse all evening but I still thought I could manage until morning when I could go to my own doctor for a check-up. At 1:30 A.M. I couldn't stand the pain any longer and called poor Kim to take me to the hospital. I am blessed with 3 wonderful daughters that I can always count on but I hated getting Kim out of bed when she had to go to work in the morning.
We spent 3 hours at the hospital (1 doctor available). After much pleading from me, the nurse gave me some pain meds before the doctor saw me. My hand and wrist were exrayed and it turned out I'd only chipped a bone at the top of my hand just above the wrist. It didn't need a cast, just a brace that I had from when I broke my left wrist 1 1/2 years ago. I was so happy that it was only a chipped bone but it will still take about 6 weeks to heal and I have to mostly wear the brace for all that time.
I see a doctor at the orthopedic clinic today to make sure all is healing as it should.
Injuries happen so fast and unexpectedly. Now I'm even more afraid of falling but Shelley said that my bones must be pretty strong if all that happened was a chip and not a break. I feel very lucky it wasn't worse.
We can't protect ourselves completely from all the crap that might happen to us. Often the worst crap comes out of nowhere and hits us so hard we are left reeling and aren't quite sure what the heck happened. It's how we deal with these unexpected dramas that make the difference.
I don't deal with crap the way I used to. Back in the day I would be devastated and crushed but today I get darned angry and fight back. I've learned that the people who have power over us do not necessarily wield that power fairly or intelligently so their status doesn't intimidate me. My message to anyone who truly believes they have been trodden on is to gather up your inner strength, align yourself with people who can help you, and fight back.
Sometimes the battle isn't worth fighting but sometimes it is so you'd better prepare yourself.
Being around children adds years to our lives. I think the combination of love, laughter, and admiration for how much they're learning is what does it. I took care of 3 year old Nash today and now I think I'll live until at least 92.
It was just 2 summers ago that I took care of Nash and he screamed bloody murder for almost every moment he was with me. Last year he was good but a little reticent about being left with me. This year he happily said goodbye to his father and eagerly took my hand as I led him into my place. This is leaps and bounds progress!
I've always thought of Nash as the quiet one, unlike Nolan who is a non-stop talker. Well, that changed, too, and Nash has also become a non-stop talker, much of which I don't understand but most of which I do. His speech does need some work but he's improved amazingly since last year.
Nash is a sweet, gentle little boy. I asked for a hug and he said, "No!". I told him I'd cry if I didn't get a hug so he came right over and hugged me and then, stepping back and looking at me with concern, said, "Are you okay now?". Bless his little heart!
We walked up to a little playground near the apartment and he scared me with his fearless moves. He's not wild at all but has no fear of climbing on bars that I thought too far apart for his little legs. This is the little guy who never seems to cry when he gets hurt so I feel very protective of him. We drove to Burger king for lunch where he ate every bit of his meal, tried to steal some of my fries, and then asked for more. He's going to be a big boy!
He had a 2 hour nap in the afternoon because I needed one, then got a little melancholy asking where his Mommy and Daddy were. He didn't cry but mentioned them a lot. He was very interested in the Swedish weaving afghan I was working on and asked if he could have one so I'll make some small scale ones for both him and Nolan when I finish the one I'm making now. I told him I'd make one for him and he said he'd do it himself. We discussed how I'd have to do it because he didn't know how but he adamantly stated he'd make his own. Listening to him, I realized how this spoke of his character, how he'd grow up to be a man who wouldn't depend on others to do for him. This is how you get to know your little ones...you spend precious time with them and listen to them.
Nash, you will do well in life.
Well, back I went to the Nissan dealership yesterday to have my tires unrotated (I believe I've invented a whole new word). One of the mechanics took it for a drive first and then told me my problem wasn't with the tire rotation but with one bad tire where the belt had shifted, making the tire wobbly. I have to trust them.
And so, today I am having 2 tires replaced because somewhere, somehow, I read that you should never replace just one tire. I know the sound of the bad one so I'd better not hear that wop-wop or roaring sound with the new ones. I specifically asked for quiet tires so they're putting on Michelin (spelled right?).
I always look forward to my summers because I feel rich not having to pay double lot rent for the trailer each month but my expenses so far since I got home have been pretty darned high. I replaced the sink and taps in the kitchen and now I have to pay for 2 new tires. And it's only May!!
Maybe I can feel rich in June.
Now, I know that politicians aren't the brightest of us all but wouldn't you think that someone running for political office would take care not to publicly show his/her worst side? It seems kind of incongruous that so many of the Liberal male candidates this season are blatantly sexist...and their leader is a woman. I hate to think it but maybe our politicians are getting stupider. Just look at Toronto mayor Rob Ford. And we, the public, are equally stupid to elect these characters and give them the power to run our country.
My blood sugar has been elevated for years but last year it took a gigantic leap to 8.3 (high normal is 6.). I put off medication, hoping weight loss and a better diet would bring it down enough that I wouldn't have to go on Metformin but it didn't work. Even with a 15 lb. weight loss and a slightly better diet, my blood sugar rose to 8.7 this spring so I had to accept the inevitable. I'm diabetic and will be taking Metformin for the rest of my life. Not the worst thing in the world, though.
My other blood counts were okay, the CLL still staying much the same and only slightly above normal. My cholesterol is stable, too, so all is not really horrible. If left unchecked, the high blood sugar would damage my innards so taking a couple of pills every day isn't such a bad trade-off. I often wonder how many hidden illnesses plagued our ancestors who never went to a doctor for check-ups. At least I have a doctor who is aware of what's going on inside me and will keep tabs on my health. He's my new doctor (my old one retired) and he's adorable. I get the impression he knows what he's talking about but there's no arrogance about him. He's a very nice doctor and I'm lucky to have him, even if he does look like he's 12 years old.
Being diabetic doesn't mean I pig out on sweets because I don't crave them, thank heavens. I've never had a decent diet until this past winter and, though better, it's not the best...it's just not filled with desserts. The dietition told me that carbs, not calories, are what I should count so I've been more careful all winter eliminating many carbs from my meals. With luck, those magical 2 pills a day will keep me from kicking the bucket for years to come.
I had a wonderful, mainly sunny winter in Florida and thought I'd easily be able to weather a wet spring in Canada but it's getting on my nerves. Sure, we've had a few sunny and warm days but there's been so much rain lately it's making me miserable. Combine that with an apartment that's too warm, thanks to some stupid law that keeps the heat on well into May, and my little world is a pain in the ass today.
I'm one of those people who is strongly affected by lack of sunshine. Looking ahead to a week of mostly rain is making me want to sleep through it all...just wake me up when the sun comes out. There is housework and crafts I could do but there's no sunshine to spur me on. For some people, rainy days are an excuse to work on projects but not for me. Summer in Canada is usually beautiful with warmth and lots of sunshine so I guess I just have to be patient. I wish I could be.
If I'd thought about it, I would have remembered that I never had the Honda's tires rotated in the 11 years I owned the car. I did have new tires put on it, though.
On Friday, I decided to have the tires rotated on the Nissan which I've owned for 2 years. It wasn't too expensive and I'd decided to take extra good care of the car which will probably see me out. Before the rotation there was some road noise but after the rotation it was deafening. There was also a vibration felt in the steering wheel that I hadn't felt before. I thought for certain that the dealership had wrecked my cute little car.
On Sunday, Matt drove my car and told me the noise was almost certainly the wheel bearings. I could see dollar signs! But when I got home and on the computer I searched the internet for info on anyone hearing extra noise after having their tires rotated. Sure enough, it is very common and so is the vibration. The key is that this will happen unless you have your tires rotated about every 2000 miles. My car has about 12,000 miles on it. Mystery solved (I hope!)
I'm having the tires returned to their original position on Wednesday and I've brazenly asked not to be charged for it. We'll see if that request is honored, too. I will put new tires on in the fall but I'm not ready to take on that cost just yet.
I just love all the information that is available to us on the internet!
It doesn't take much to fill my balcony with flowers but I can't imagine ever living without being surrounded by the beauty of flowers. I'm not quite finished, though, and plan to buy a small bag of white stones to fill the spaces left between ceramic pot and plastic pot. I was afraid the short ceramic pots wouldn't hold enough soil for the plants so I'm leaving them in the plastic ones and setting them inside the ceramic. We'll see how they do...I may have to find a different solution later on.
There is nothing on earth that can bring you more peace than being amid masses of lushly blooming flowers and foliage.
I've read a lot about how poverty causes people to turn to crime. Well, I grew up in poverty and it drove me to do better for myself. Childhood poverty is not something that you should use as an excuse for your own poor choices in life. The "poor me" attitude that the world owes us a living is pure crap. You were gifted with life and the ability to make of it what you wish.
I'm not talking about the instances where children are drugged and dragged into slavery but of the children who, though suffered a deprived childhood, go forth into the world and make a success of their adulthood. Get an education because that will be your saving grace.
I lived with my mother, sister, grandmother, and grandfather in a 2 room apartment where we shared the one bathroom with 3 other apartments. Our little apartment was clean and my grandmother even cleaned the hallway and stairs for free (and I'll bet she also cleaned the bathroom) because she wanted a completely clean appearance to her home. She put in a tiny flower garden out front and somehow (I don't remember a lawn mower) kept the tiny front lawn cut. My mother worked every day in a bakery and my grandfather worked as a street cleaner for the city until he was forced to retire some time in his late 70's.
Pride in yourself means that poverty doesn't have to put you in the gutter. Not everyone is born rich...and I honestly believe that growing up poor means you will appreciate whatever perks you achieve in the rest of your life. Using childhood poverty as an excuse to be lazy and give up from the get go is utterly stupid.
My biggest regret is that I never got a proper education and that sits on my shoulders alone. I hated going to school (pure laziness) so quit when I turned sixteen. I think I knew it was a mistake at the time but did it any way. Teens usually can't be trusted to make decisions like this on their own and no-one in my family guided me. I've told my children and my grandchildren that one of the most important things in life is to get a good education because it will help you in every way throughout your lifetime. Knowledge can never be taken away from you and it broadens your understanding of the world you live in.
My children and grandchildren are all college/university educated to some degree so my life is a success as far as that goes. They'll never regret getting that education, this I know for certain.
For children living in poverty, the only good way out is to stay in school and to advance your education as far as you are able. Rely on yourself and your own determination no matter what your background happens to be.
The United States has sat under an umbrella of disdain for 200 years because their people once held slaves. Today we realize that slavery still exists in many countries, including Nigeria where schoolgirls are abducted and sold. It is frightening to know that human beings are capable of such monstrous behaviour but we see every day how beastly some of us can be. Just watch the news and it's rife with murders, kidnapping, rapes, and incest. It's enough to make you want to live in a different world altogether.
One of the Nigerian kidnappers said that his god told him to take the girls and sell them. That justifies my belief that our "god" is only a reflection of ourselves, who condones whatever behaviour we choose or will always offer forgiveness when we go against social mores. We humans can be very dangerous when we don't have a conscience to keep us in line.
One of the worst acts a human being can perform is to destroy innocence. The predatory actions of the Nigerian kidnappers make me hope there is a hell for monsters like this.
