Perspective

 

I had a wonderful time away.  Among other things, I discovered you’re never too old to build a snowman.  Although, if memory serves (and granted, it doesn’t always serve well) my snowmen used to be much bigger.

Is the “mini” in my Mini-Me snowman due to my having grown taller or lazier?

And while building snowmen is fun, snowball fights are not.  Too many childhood memories of ice chunks hidden in snowballs.  (Nasty Canadian boys.)  However, a mitten or glove of snow in the face or down the back of the neck is acceptable.  Not particularly pleasant, but acceptable.  And revenge is sweet.

Holiday Break Time...

 “And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?  It came without ribbons.  It came without tags.  It came without packages, boxes or bags.  And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.  Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.  What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.  What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

~Dr Seuss

A wonderful video of Little Drummer Boy created by the talented 18 year old Sean Quigley from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.  One of our crazy Canadian young men – wearing shorts in the midst of all that snow!

“People have been asking... so, yes, I played all the parts, sang, arranged and recorded the whole thing. I had my sister run the camera for specific shots, then I edited the video and posted it here!”

~ Sean Quigley

Enjoy!

Joyeux Noël

Merry Christmas

Season’s Greetings

To You All!

Why I Am Not On Etsy

This is what inspired me:

This is my creation:

 

I give myself an E – for effort.

Would it have helped if I’d used a set of encyclopedias?  I doubt it.

photo credit: google images

Lost and Found

Just started reading Falling Together by Marisa de los Santos and I’m already finding treasures to jot down.  One of the many joys of reading – discovering new ways of looking at the world and/or at words themselves. 

“It was the first time Pen had ever seen Will lose his temper, although “lose his temper” never seemed quite the right way of describing it.  What got lost was everything else, all the things that made Will himself: empathy and patience and decency, his sense of humor, his sense of justice, everything fine and good deserting him in one ugly rush.”

And that’s what it’s really like, isn’t it?  Our temper emerges – we don’t lose it.  It’s always there, lurking below the surface.  And then suddenly (or not so suddenly) we’re no longer in control of our anger, our fury.  It’s the other parts of ourselves – the good parts – that are temporarily submerged, buried by anger and frustration.  And how quickly that eruption can occur – which is a bit scary.  If you are really, really mad, it can be difficult to even recognize yourself amidst the rage.  You’re no longer the self you take pride in being.

For most of us, the emergence of this ugly side of our nature is followed by regret and remorse.  Or not.  Sometimes a good temper tantrum can be cathartic.  I had two mini-temper tantrums yesterday.  After each one, my better self (the self I adore!) returned and with it, my sense of humour.  I was able to laugh at myself.  Thank God.  It must be awful to be perpetually angry at the world or yourself.  Worse than awful – tragic.

I’m going to make a concerted effort not to “lose my temper” today.  It could happen.  I’m going Christmas shopping.  And while I always start off in a good mood, this seasonal venture often brings out the worst in people - the parking lot rage, the line-ups, the grumbling... 

It’s a slippery slope, my friends.  How easily it can turn into Ho! Ho! Hell!

Perhaps if I keep a smile plastered on my face?

When you're smiling

When you're smiling

The whole world smiles with you…

photo credit: google images

Holiday Time...

To my fellow citizens:

To All:

Where's the Chocolate?!!

Apparently, a new Easter Bunny took over the route in our neighbourhood this year – and the boys were quite pleased with the change-up.

For the record, this booze-in-a-basket is a first. While I never thought such a thing was possible, by last week we’d OD’d on chocolate from an early Easter basket of goodies I’d received.

What better replacement for chocolate than some Heineken beer?

How times change.

Room With a View

“To put it rather bluntly, I am not the type who wants to go back to the land; I am the type who wants to go back to the hotel.”

~ Fran Lebowitz

Oh, yeah. That is so me.

Was reminded of this quotation while despairing over the accumulation of junk in the garage - some of which includes camping equipment belonging to one of my sons.

I am not a fan of bugs & bears nor of being at the mercy of the elements.

I prefer my creature comforts indoors rather than out.

Next on the Agenda...

No, this is not a picture of the dining room table decorated for the Christmas season.

Yes, I am ruthless. In a frenzied fit of “it’s over” I’ve gathered all the decorations and placed them on the table to be packed away.

No, I have not dismantled the tree. Yet. I’m itching to do it, though.

Yes, we had a wonderful Christmas – had the three boys (plus two girlfriends) with me Christmas Eve, Christmas morning and all but one of the boys for Christmas dinner at my sister’s. I love my huge family – what an amazing group of people.




No, the above photo is not another display of Beth’s decorating skills. My reminder post-its are back up – a spread out in-your-face To Do list re: my mother’s affairs (finances, temporary care, nursing home search, etc.). And if you peer closely, there’s a business card for a plumber.




Yes, another mini-disaster struck this repair-prone home. On Christmas morning. With six people staying here, one of the two toilets broke. A crack in the tank and a flood. (“Just pee in the shower, guys – à la Seinfeld!”)

You have to laugh. Well, I do. And smile. In the midst of blessings and good times, reality has a way of making its presence known. Shit happens. (I know, that’s rude & inappropriate language for the season – or any time - but it’s fitting.)

Here’s to 2010. May it bring all good things to you - and me! The only New Year’s resolution I’m making this year is, “Keep smiling – no matter what…”

A sense of humour is a precious commodity. In my case, being a little crazy even at the best of times also helps. ;)

WISHING YOU ALL
A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS
HAPPY HOLIDAYS
AND JOY IN THE NEW YEAR!

Ho Ho Ho - Snap!

Notes left for my son – because some days we’re like ships that pass in the night. (The quality of the images – not so good – click to enlarge.)

And, no, his name is not Houston.

And, yes, we are battling mice. The war is now being waged at home as well as at the cottage. I should write my own version of “Town Mouse – Country Mouse.”

(And, Guy, I’m using poison, too. I added traps to my arsenal because they make for less mouse poop and more immediate visible results.)




He didn’t use rubber gloves (they’re for sissies) but he did deal with the remains. Bless that boy.




My ultimate goal for the season:

“Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…”


P.S. I’m not sure why I’m capable of dealing with dead mice bodies at the cottage but am reluctant to do so here. Perhaps it has something to do with reaching into the dark recesses of the cupboard under the sink and imagining the dead mouse’s friends and family jumping out at me in revenge. Yup, that’s probably it.

December Already??

While making the usual blogging rounds, I’ve noted (with an increasing sense of dismay) that Christmas preparations are well underway elsewhere. My home remains in its same old shabby-chic condition without a whiff of fresh pine scent or a hint of added greenery.

“Well begun is half done,” says Mary Poppins but what if you haven’t even started? A slight panic is setting in.


What has yet to be done around here:

1. Christmas cards

2. Outside Christmas lights

3. Indoor Christmas decorations

4. Christmas tree/decorate Christmas tree

5. Christmas shopping (need ideas first)

6. Shortbread, etc. (the “etc.” may be eliminated this year)

7. Drop off of children’s toys


But, hey, I do have a list!

See above.


If hearth and home are not prepared for Christmas, will Santa still come? I’ve been such a good girl. Really.

Thanksgiving/L’Action de Grâces

To all my fellow Canucks – enjoy the Thanksgiving weekend.

To all my American friends – yours is coming soon!

And to all those who don’t celebrate Thanksgiving – you may have saved the life of a turkey.

I’m the hostess-with-the-mostess for this year’s family Thanksgiving dinner taking place Saturday night. Think of me as I do battle with the big bird. I’m not fond of handling those giblets/innards.

Oh, never mind…it’s not all about me.

It’s about being thankful for all the blessings in your life.

And I am.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

a mouth full of Strawberry-Pineapple cooler

Does anybody want to hear all about my cottage vacation?

Didn’t think so.

Unless I managed to take fabulous pictures of never-before-seen subjects or discovered the secret to eternal youth (I did neither) what’s the point of writing about it? It would read like a Twitter post on steroids.

Condensed version - my time away was wet (rain), wild (animals) and wonderful (family and friends). The hot summer weather finally arrived 3 days prior to the end of my allotted cottage time. Figures.

I’ve actually been home for awhile but other than addressing matters demanding my immediate attention, I’ve been letting things slide – have been drifting. I’m not yet in home mode.

Since I’ve been absent from the blogging world for most of the summer, I may have lost a few readers. So be it. I’m cognizant of blogging etiquette – there’s a lot tit-for-tat involved. One (ideally) writes interesting and regular posts and exchanges comments with others. Guilty of negligence on all counts.

I’ll resume regular posting, etc., as soon as I adjust to the routine and pace of the real world again.

But to be honest, I just want to go back…

Farewell

Heading up to the cottage for awhile.

I’ve been looking forward to this for ages - family, friends, good times.

(And perhaps a certain someone will be celebrating a birthday by jumping in the lake??)

Stay well.

(The above image is of my eldest son and my mother fishing – a shared love. Click to enlarge it - I know they're barely visible. A certain someone is also a poor photographer.)

Wobbly Words

"My spelling is Wobbly. It's good spelling but it Wobbles, and the letters get in the wrong places." A. A. Milne

An apt description of my typing skills – the letters get in the wrong places.

And over the years, I’ve come to rely more and more on spell-check. I find this appalling.

Two reasons why I prefer writing in longhand first. With pen and paper, misspelled and mixed-words aren’t as glaring – don’t interrupt me mid-sentence.


P.S.
Happy Victoria Day Weekend to those of you (us) who celebrate it. What we actually celebrate is having a holiday Monday. Dare I say it? No one really cares about Victoria’s birthday. Nor do I think she would appreciate the drinking and partying that goes on in her name. The fireworks, maybe.



Photo credit: http://www.ctv.ca/gallery/html/misspelled_080513/photo_15.html

Easter Bunny Redux

posing at the entrance to his cave (yes, his cave)

The above image is of my eldest - aka the Easter Bunny.

I must say, it’s a unique and special feeling having given birth to the Easter Bunny. Thank God I figured out how to keep my bunny procreation to a minimum otherwise I’d have been overwhelmed with beloved offspring. Did you know rabbits can have a litter every 31 DAYS? And produce 1-14 babies per litter? Dodged a bullet there…

The Easter Bunny and his Mother
(note the strong family resemblance)

He did a wonderful job this year. Only two kids were terrified of him and he only (almost) lost his head (literally) while doing a few cartwheels for the kiddie crowd.

So proud of you, my boy! All those years of schooling finally paid off.

the good-looking dude in the foreground is the TEB’s godson

this little sweetheart* was terrified of TEB
(but loved posing for me)

Permission was obtained for posting the pictures of the two children. Permission was not even asked of my son as to the posting of his pictures. But, hey, he’s one tough wascally wabbit and a good sport. It’s all good.


(*The sweetheart has been known to perform solo dance routines (ballet oriented) on the cottage deck accompanied only by her own fetching singing voice. Audience not required but if you happen to be there, she will present you with a curtsy following each number. Love the unselfconscious behaviour of children!)

Getting to Know Me

Yes, I wore my comfortable old blue jeans in a fashionable district of London but that's just the way I am. Some things never change.

During my extended blog leave last fall, I did something quite out of character. With the enthusiastic support and encouragement of family and friends I took a rather spur of the moment trip to London, England. Although I had the company of a very close friend for the first few days and (emergency) back-up via a blogging acquaintance who resides there, I was essentially on my own for five days.

This was a tremendous milestone in my (for lack of a better term) new life. I’d always wanted to return to England since last there at the age of twenty-one but had never envisioned myself crossing the ocean to visit this beautiful city on my own.

Never say never.

Making the decision to go was like accepting a dare, seizing an opportunity for change and challenging myself. What a tremendous sense of accomplishment to have done all three.

My time in London was wonderful – both in terms of knowledge gained about myself and regarding all I saw and did. I checked out the usual tourist sites, walked for miles (well, it seemed like miles), met, spoke and laughed with some great people (only a few whackos) and experienced a very special moment of wonder and clarity while in Trafalgar Square.

As a woman walked by she turned to me with a big smile and said, “Have a lucky day, luv.”

Not a good day or a nice day but a lucky day.

And that sunk in. I was lucky. I was in London – a place I thought I’d never see again – sitting and enjoying the sun and the fascinating crowds of people in Trafalgar Square after having just seen an amazing Annie Leibovitz exhibit at The National Portrait Gallery. It actually all felt a bit surreal. (Okay, so reality did intrude - I’d had to move once to get away from some guy who chose me as his audience for a political harangue about the insidious evils of communism invading England but that was easily done.)

Would I take such a trip again? Not sure. I’m really not an Eat, Pray, Love kind of adventurous soul.

But to have actually done it? To have learned that I am capable of doing such a thing on my own? That was a treasured, valuable gift this trip provided beyond anything London itself could offer.

Of course I visited The British Library and, no, I was not picking my nose.

Whew. It’s over.

I’ll no longer be typing Chrsitmas incorrectly.

Until next year.

Home for the Holidays

The eldest and youngest doing the male bonding thing - foot wrestling on the couch while clutching their cell phones. (Huh?)

Lots of grunts, moans, laughter and near-misses but no permanent damage inflicted by either side despite what appears to have taken place in the second picture.

"Watch the nads, man!"

Ah, the joys of living in a predominantly male household.

From our crazy home to yours -

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Hey, there...

Thought this would be an opportune time to slip back into the blogging world – everyone’s so busy with Christmas preparations they might not even notice.

So, yeah, the prodigal daughter has returned. To all who urged me to do so, who kept in touch via email and let me know I was missed, my sincere thanks and appreciation.

My return to blogging is accompanied by a number of self-imposed rules – the very best kind to impose. Self will be extremely lenient if I fail to adhere to these rules.

This post is simply a “Hi, I’m back,” one. What I’ve been up to these past months may eventually emerge but don’t hold your breath in anticipation. Nothing earth-shattering has taken place. (Which is a good thing.)

I’d also like to offer encouragement to all those (such as myself) who are lagging behind with all the seasonal hoop-la.

Think about it. Christmas Day arrives no matter what you have or have not managed to accomplish. I’m being gentle with myself this year. If we (I) continue to eat shortbread at this present rate, there won’t be any left for Christmas. So be it. I may or may not make more - depends on my craving for sweets. And if I don’t get my last minute shopping done? I’m going to blame the massive snowstorm we are currently experiencing – with yet another one predicted this weekend.

Season’s Greetings to you all.

I’ll be in touch – slowly but surely.