Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Road Trip!

So we're getting ready for our annual trek to northern Québec ...I thought I'd invite you to come along! The drive will take about 8-10 hours from Québec City. It will be a long day, but the scenery is spectacular all along the way. So here are a few samples of what we'll be seeing...

Québec City...a very romantic city!


One of the endlessly spectacular views from the highway


Tadoussac , where we catch the ferry




I've never seen one yet, but maybe this time?


More views from the highway...we have to go way beyond the horizon.

Port-Cartier...only 60k (39mi) to go!


We'll see lots of waterfalls along the way!


Sept-Îles! Look back at all those hills that we just drove through!


Finally here! Along the boardwalk in Sept-Îles



Further along the boardwalk...lots of people walk here in the evenings.

The beach near Sept-Îles...I hope it will be warm enough to go!!
 I hope you enjoyed the trip as much as we will! Since we'll be visiting family and friends and taking long walks all along that boardwalk and beach, I won't have much time to blog. So, take care all, stay healthy, and see you when we get back!!

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Where The Heart Is


I found this quote the other day and it's been nagging at me ever since. While it's set on a pretty background and, at first, seems like one of those possible "aha" messages, I'm no longer sure it's actually true, at least for me. Or am I missing something? (entirely possible)

So true.

So I thought I'd do one of my favourite things and make a list of where my mind goes when it wanders...I've been making up this list over the past few days, just to find out once and for all where my heart really lives...

So these are the places my mind goes when it wanders:

- to the next time I can eat, because these days I'm always hungry;
-  to my blog and wondering what I can write about next;
 - Edinburgh, Scotland, where my friend Kerry lives (I've never been there, and we've never met in person, but my mind still goes there to visit Kerry);
 - Facebook, when I haven't been able to get online for awhile...I wonder who's there, what they're doing, what they're saying, what I'm missing, and if I have more energy for my favourite games (they all require "energy");
- back in time, I go there to visit my family a lot these days;
- my grandchildren's house - I often wonder what they're doing, if they're missing us;
- Quin-Mo-Lac, where I spent 8 summers as a camp counsellor in my teen years; QML often comes to mind at this time of year;
- the beach in Maivellette in Nova Scotia, one of my mind's "go-to" places when it needs one;
- my mind wanders through my various lists, wondering what I've forgotten to write down, what I can do, pack, buy or tick off next;
- to a game I've been playing on Facebook, trying to mentally figure out how to move on to the next level (I've been stuck in Madagascar in one game for almost a year now!)
- to my closet, wandering what's the least amount of clothes I can take on our trip to China;
- and as soon as my mind wanders to China, it worries about the squat toilets;
- to my knees and what I can be doing to strengthen them - for those squat toilets!
- to the fridge, wondering what I can eat that won't put my sugar way up again.

Hmmm, that's quite the busy mind, isn't it! And I didn't even capture all of the wanderings...it's impossible to keep it grounded long enough to write it all down. And it's impossible to say with any certainty or conviction  that my heart lives in any or all of those places. But after keeping track over the past few days, I did notice the one "place" that my mind wanders to the most...to God, often, throughout the day, without warning, my mind constantly wanders off to His side, holds His hand, leans against His strong shoulder, sighs and then flits back to earth. Most times we never say a word, but it's enough. I just love the feel of His quiet Presence and calm reassurance...and I love knowing that He knows what (and who) is in my heart. Yes, there's a high possibility that my heart could want to live there in His Presence forever.

But after making these lists and pondering it over, as lovely as that picture and quote are, and as beautiful as many of those mind-treks are, I prefer to believe that my heart lives right here with me, wherever I am at any given moment. Yes, my mind likes to wander off and visit people and places and memories - the skies (and lovely beaches) of the imagination are endless!!

But ultimately, the place where my heart most wants to be is right here with me...home is where the heart is, and for me and my heart, I am home.

Monday, June 25, 2012

A Forgotten Birthday

It's early in the morning here. For all the effort I make to create a positive environment for hubby and myself, focusing on gratitude and the blessings in our lives (which are immeasurable!), I have to admit that I'm very very sad this morning. For once it's not because I've been wallowing in self-pity or allowed my mind to stray back to ancient sad memories. No, this morning I'm very sad because everybody forgot the birthday of our 90-year-old neighbour.

He's not technically our neighbour anymore. He and his wife had to move suddenly to a senior's residence just before Christmas. (It's his house that we've been cleaning out for the past 6 months.) But we were neighbours for twelve years, and every year many of the neighbours on our townhouse row made sure that their birthdays were remembered and celebrated. We always brought over a small gift and card. Another neighbour baked (or bought) a little birthday cake and we would all traipse over there after supper, light candles and sing happy birthday to whichever one of them was celebrating. It was always fun for all, but it was especially appreciated by these two very elderly and ofttimes lonely people.

Yesterday we all forgot. I've never written it on our calendar, never thought to, because we never had to, we all just remembered. I don't know what jogged his memory, but hubby remembered after supper last night and immediately phoned R. to wish him a happy birthday. Even hubby was almost in tears when he hung up after hearing that we were the only ones who remembered. As of early evening last night, nobody else - none of his children, grandchildren or great grandchildren had remembered or called. We called one of his grandsons and left a message to remind him to call his grandfather but we don't think he read the message until long after his grandfather would have gone to bed.

We're going to try and get over there today to bring him a card and a little gift, and we'll find out if the word spread and if anyone else phoned. But all last evening, and now this morning, it has been weighing heavily on my heart. We had the whole day free yesterday. If I had remembered, we would have been over there with a cake and maybe a few other neighbours in tow to celebrate like we have for the past 12 years.

To make it worse, it was his 90th...a major milestone!! I'm just so sad that we weren't there for Ross yesterday. How very very sad.

I know I can't dwell on it...I can't wallow in the sadness, I have to pick myself up and forgive myself (and yes, I wrote it on the calendar so we won't forget again next year). But for now, I just wish we could turn the clock back 24 hours and know then what we know now.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

It's an Alleluia Day

I've been writing quite a bit about words lately, including a few of my all-time faves. But I saved my very favourite word for today...Alleluia...Hallelujah...oh how I love this word. The mere thought of it rolling around in my head sends my soul soaring through the universe and dancing across the mountains and Milky Way...softly spoken, it evokes majesty and tenderness; sung together with many other voices, it lifts my heart right to heaven itself and lays me gently at the feet of Jesus. I love this word, I love to speak it, I love to sing it, I love to hear it sung - I love to fill my entire being with the sound and feel and glory of it.

Alleluia

To celebrate my favourite word, I pulled together a few of my favourite Alleluia/Hallelujah songs from YouTube. There are others which I haven't been able to find yet, but some of these have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember and I wanted to post them today for anyone who might want to have a listen. I hope the links work, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.


Sing Hallelujah to the Lord (Maranatha Singers)

Sometimes Alleluia (Chuck Girard)

A New Hallelujah  (by Michael W. Smith, with the African Children's Choir)

Agnus Dei (Amy Grant)

Handel's Messiah Hallelujah Chorus (Mormon Tabernacle Choir)

Handel's Messiah Hallelujah Chorus (Opera Company of Philadelphia's Food Court Flash Mob version)


And how can I do a blog on the word without including Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah (sung here by KD Lang) [everyone has their favourite version of this song, this is one of mine] and here's some background of the song- and I agree with the author, that it's been a bit overdone lately. But I couldn't not include it here.


Finding the links to these songs listed here led me on a wonderful journey through some beautiful music! Now I'm off to go listen to a few of the gems I found while not even looking for them! Alleluia!!!

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Not So Comfy Clutter

I've spoken in other posts here about how clutter can be comforting, when it speaks light and love or has special memories attached.

But I'm realizing now that there's a limit to just how comforting clutter can be...there's a fine line between "enough" and "too much". And we've crossed that line in this house!

It wasn't so bad before we started cleaning out our elderly neighbour's house 6 months ago. But now, 6 months later, we're stuffed to the rafters! As the children and grandchildren sorted through the belongings, we packed up the stuff that had been designated to give away. We were allowed to - and did - put aside things that we thought would be useful for our friends in Cuba...those are all stored away in bins in the 3rd spare bedroom (officially designated as our Cuba room). And then we started putting aside various things for other neighbours who had let us know what they were hoping for. And hubby is a bit of a pack-rat, so I'm pretty sure that those big bulges showing up on the sides of our little garden shed might be a clue as to where a lot of the stuff has been shuffled off to.

I've also been putting a few little knick-knacks aside, just in case anyone in our neighbour's family comes back later looking for some of those treasures...like any of the Ottawa Senators' (our local hockey team) paraphernalia. (And sure enough, someone DID come back looking for it and luckily we had pulled it out of the charity box and saved it for them!). I've been through this so many times in recent years, that I know how it is...at first the task seems too monumental and all you want to do is get rid of everything. So we do. But then, a few months or even years down the road, all of sudden one of those old family knick-knacks comes to mind, or a memory gets tweaked, or Christmas arrives and we remember old family treasures and realize that we really did want to hold onto them, if only for a little while...but once they're gone, they're gone.

So I did pull what looked like old family treasures aside and they're now packed in boxes in our basement....just in case. I'm not sure how long they'll be there...at some point, we'll have to take them to the charity store as the family originally designated. For now, we're willing to hold on to them, simply because we've been there, done that and regretted it....I remember in particular one tiny ornamental knick-knack that my Mom had put in my stocking one year. It had followed me around from apartment to apartment for many many years. When we did a major clean-out, I tossed it into the give-away box. Then months later, started crying because I missed it. I felt silly, it was such a simple little ornament, but hey, I was really sad to have lost it. Then the next time we visited hubby's family, my heart stood still when I looked up and saw that little thing sitting on the top shelf of their display cabinet...I was flabbergasted! But unbeknownst to me, hubby had taken that particular box to his brother to sell in his flea market store and this little ornament had ended up on that shelf instead of the store shelf. Well, when my sister-in-law found out, she lovingly wrapped that little treasure up and presented it to me with such joy in her eyes...I cried like a baby, silly me. But that taught me that not all junk is junk...sometimes we're simply not ready to toss those memory-laden treasures away just yet.

However, as I look around me, I realize we may have overextended our definition of "treasures"! Our house is stuffed full, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, with little pathways to get from one room to the other. Some of the stuff will be gone next week...neighbours will come and take what we put aside for them. Family members will be coming to take those few last-minute boxes that we pulled out just minutes before the real estate agent came to put the "for sale" sign up.

Still, it's no longer comforting, this clutter. It's in fact rather, well, discombobulating!! (Yes I love being able to use the word, but no, I don't like the feeling.) But we're stuck with it for awhile, so I guess I have to make peace with it for now...unless we decide to buy that new house we've been looking at. Sigh, in which case we will have to do this all over again, not only going through THEIR stuff all over again, but all of our own clutter as well. Not a comforting thought at all!

Except that it will be a great opportunity to downsize...right now, looking around at the mountains of stuff piled all around me, downsizing is very appealing.

Yes, clutter in its rightful place and sparseness can be comforting. And then, all of a sudden, it isn't. Watch that line, it's invisible, but when you've crossed it, you'll know it. Very discombobulating!

Friday, June 22, 2012

The Wonderful World of Words

 I love words. I've always loved words. Words and me go way back to my early childhood days of sitting in the rocking chair reading Bible stories with my babysitter and learning how to say "Nebuchadnezzar". (pronounced "Neb-a-ka-nee-zer" - he's one of the kings from The Book of Daniel). I've always loved how that name rolls right off my tongue. And I've always loved my babysitter (Mrs. Brownridge) for so patiently teaching me how to say it. What a wise old woman she was!!

I love the feel and texture of words as they tickle down my tongue. Some words babble, some slip and slide. Some have a harsh feel to them, some caress like a soft comforter. Some paint pictures by articulating exactly what wants to be said, others are blah and merely utilitarian...but I still love how they bridge me from one word to another.

Words evoke emotions in me. Some words have memories attached to them. Some come with tears. Other words can make me giggle just by being spoken out loud...like, well, "giggle".

I listen to words. I listen to the words underneath and behind the words. It sometimes takes every effort not to finish people's sentences for them because I can just feel the words dancing in excited eagerness to be spoken.

My love for words and my joy in stringing words together has remained intact through every change and evolution. But even after all of these years, my three most favourite words are still ones I learned in childhood.

My all-time favourite word is "discombobulated"...oh, what a treat to feel that word bobbing down my tongue! While I don't enjoy the feeling of BEING discombobulated (disconcerted and frustrated) it always makes me feel better just being able to say "I'm so discombobulated". Wonderful articulation!!! Try it sometime!!

Another favourite word, and my Mom's too, is "titivate". Now imagine, growing up in a household of 3 boys, how much fun was had whenever Mom called us into the living room with: "Let's just do a bit of titivating here before unexpected guests drop in." I can still hear the gales of laughter and feel my own blushing 13-year-old cheeks. We thought Mom had just made the word up, but it really does exist, and really does mean to tidy up. It's one of those words that can still make me laugh whenever I hear it, simply because of the fun memories attached to it.

The last word I'll mention here (oh, but I could write a whole book of them!) is "scrumptious". Mmmmm. Now doesn't that just make your mouth water?! Another one of my Mom's favourite words, it evokes memories of dinner tables laden with Thanksgiving turkeys, Easter hams, Christmas carrots, fresh asparagus, mile-high strawberry shortcakes and Dad's world-famous BBQ hamburgers. This is a word that just has to fill your mouth before you actually speak it...start with the "scru-u-u-mmmmp" part and elongate it as much as socially acceptable (and pout out that "p" with as much fullness of lip as possible), then ooze out the "shousssss" part. So that when you're finished and the word is out, you can taste it, and you make everyone around you hungry for whatever it is that made you utter the word in the first place. Whatever else you bring to the potluck supper, bring your "scrumptious" too and wait for the perfect moment to ooze it out into the party. And watch them stampede to the table to dig into whatever it was that you had on your fork!

Oh, I wish I had space for more...favourite phrases like "eschatological implications" and "babbling brooks"; and what about that word "asparagus"...even if you don't like the vegetable itself, the word alone is delicious!

Words evoke entire worlds alive...words rage, words cradle, words wound, words heal and words candle us through to whole new horizons that might not even have words to describe them yet.

And oh what a scrumptious meal it would be if you were to tell me to eat my words today!!


Thursday, June 21, 2012

Exquisite Epiphanies

 Sometimes our hearts are so profoundly immersed and touched and overwhelmed with emotions and epiphanies that seem too impossible to articulate...writers sit for long hours, days, weeks and years, contemplating their attempt to touch with their conscious minds what's going on at the core of their souls, then search through dictionaries to find the right words to paint the most accurate portrait of just how rich and deep and life-changing those emotions and epiphanies (which are responses to events and encounters being experienced) are.

But there is also the temptation to sit and question if it's the right thing to do. Should we even try to uproot them from our innermost being in an attempt to paint a picture for anyone else? Will they travel intact through the myriad of translations and detours (because maybe the right words don't even exist yet) - or do we run the risk of those life-changing emotions being trivialized on their journey to finding expression accurate enough to allow someone else to begin to grasp the magnitude and grandeur at the root of what hungers to be shared?

I suppose that if every writer gave into the temptation of futility whispering that the task is too big and/or impossible, or that nobody could possibly ever "get" what's really trying to be said, how many wonderful life-changing books would lay still unwritten but simmering in the depths of countless timid hearts?!

I envy the writer who has a vision at the core of his or her being, epiphanies that won't stay silent and entire worlds that won't stay hidden. They HAVE to find expression, and there is no such thing as "can't" or "impossible" or even "why"...they just spill out of the writer's pen and keyboard and find their rightful home in simply being written.

I want that. I too hunger to write about things that matter. About things that bring hope, like the Light and Joy and Companionship that has candled me out of some very dark places and filled my deepest gaping wounds with Mercy and Love.

But most of all, I want to find the words to help others understand how tenderly Someone understood my most haunting hungers and led me to places and people who have made such a life-changing difference in my life. I am constantly awed by the beauty of the people He has put into my life, by the richness of their wisdom, by the joy they bring into my little corner of the world through their laughter and caring presence. How did He know? How did He know how profoundly my heart and soul would be touched and graced by each one and the unique gift of wisdom and light that each one radiates from within their own collection of emotions and epiphanies?

Perhaps not all heart expressions need - or even want - to find their way into a book. Perhaps they write themselves on our hearts one exquisite word at a time...a witty joke yesterday, a word of encouragement today, a wise epiphany tomorrow.

My heart is full. I am profoundly immersed, touched and overwhelmed with emotions and epiphanies that would have seemed impossible not so long ago. I know with absolute certainty and exultant joy that I have been blessed and enriched (beyond adequate articulation) by others who have not allowed their epiphanies and worlds to stay silent and hidden. I am so much more than who I used to be before these people came into my life and brought with them their words, worlds, wisdoms and light.

To all of you who have allowed me to be a part of your life and epiphanies, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you!


Each friend represents a world in us, a world not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. (Anais Nin)

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

A Perfectly Vexatious Day

It was a hot, muggy day with a four-hour power outage to contend with. I know, I'm committed to focusing on the positive, and so I decided to continue doing so by focusing on the positively vexatious parts of the day.

1. One of the children in our neighbourhood came to us today asking if we could tape her shoe together, because it was falling apart. We wrapped gun tape around it, and she seemed happy enough, but it broke my heart. And it was very hot, so then I was worried all afternoon that the hot pavement might melt the tape and she'd get stuck to the sidewalk!

2.  One of our neighbours scraped the back bumper of our car...and never bothered to come to tell us and own up to it. I mean, it's not just a wee little scrape, but right across the entire bumper. It didn't take long to figure out who it was...doesn't she realize that the grey paint (from our bumper) clearly shows on the side of her old green car? Duh!

3. We wasted an entire drum of lancet needles because we couldn't figure out how to use my new glucose testing thingie, even after that cute pharmacist gave us the full demo yesterday. I finally figured out that I had to press the little yellow button hiding half-way down the thingie, and not the thing-a-ma-jiggy at the top of the thingie, which clearly looked more like the obvious place to press. It's a good thing that the cute pharmacist threw in the extra needle drums, though the only thing better than him throwing them in the bag yesterday would be to have to go back and ask him for another demo and more needles tomorrow.

4. The power outage forced us to eat the rest of the green tea ice cream in the freezer...so much for my first day on this new diabetic diet. We should have given it to the neighbourhood kids, but they were all at the park playing in the water sprinklers there. At least that's what we told ourselves as we dutifully gobbled up all of the ice cream.

5. We went to one of my favourite buffets for lunch (we had guests from out-of-town and they chose the restaurant) and despite this being the first day of my diabetic diet, I couldn't resist that second piece of chocolate brownie. It was VERY TINY though, so maybe two very tiny pieces count as one serving? Since I haven't figured out it all out yet, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Now, as I head to bed, our little shoe girl made it safely home, the car still runs, my sugar's down, the power's back on and the only thing I regret about taking that 2nd little chocolate brownie is that I didn't stick a few more in my purse. Ah, live and learn. Ain't life grand while we're at it!



If we are ever to enjoy life, now is the time, not tomorrow or next year...Today should always be our most wonderful day. (Thomas Dreier)


Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Take Your Candle...Go Light Your World

This is such a powerful song...I don't know why, but I really felt led to share it here. I've included the lyrics and link to hear it at YouTube. Enjoy! And remember that even the feeblest light still brings light to anyone stuck in the darkness...and our little candle joins in with all the other little candles and brings beautiful light to the world. Each one of us makes a difference!!




Go Light Your World, by Kathy Troccoli 

There is a candle in every soul
Some brightly burning, some dark and cold
There is a Spirit who brings fire
Ignites a candle and makes His home

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the hopeless, confused and torn
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world
Take your candle, and go light your world

Frustrated brother, see how he's tried to
Light his own candle some other way
See now your sister, she's been robbed and lied to
Still holds a candle without a flame


So carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the lonely, the tired and worn
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world
Take your candle, and go light your world

We are a family whose hearts are blazing
So let's raise our candles and light up the sky
Praying to our Father, in the name of Jesus
Make us a beacon in darkest times

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the helpless, deceived and poor
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world

Carry your candle, run to the darkness
Seek out the hopeless, confused and torn
Hold out your candle for all to see it
Take your candle, and go light your world
Take your candle, and go light your world




Monday, June 18, 2012

How to Survive Eating Out Alone

I was single until I was 38 years old, and lived on my own for about 18 years. While I didn't eat much back then (I weighed 98 lbs at 38), I still enjoyed the occasional meal out. Back in those days, at least in the city where I was living for many of those single years, a single woman eating alone in a restaurant stood out like a sore thumb. The maitre d's never knew what to do with me...once I ended up sitting at a teeny tiny table, clearly meant to hold condiments and cutlery, that was especially set up for me at the entrance to the massive salad bar. That meant that every single patron of the restaurant had to pass by my table in order to get their salad...I was in the way actually...and the only customer eating in that entire area. It was humiliating, and I've never been back to that restaurant or any of their hundreds of franchises since then.

These days, I think it's easier and less conspicuous for single women to dine out alone without feeling like a fish out of water, or as if there's a huge neon sign hanging over their heads blinking "Alone" "Pathetic" "Poor Dear" - well, forgive me if I'm projecting my own self-talk here...that's certainly how I felt back then. I don't anymore (well, still working on rewiring my attic actually...). And though I rarely eat out alone anymore, I do still treat myself to lunch out now and then, and still feel those old twinges of discomfort. So I've come up with a list of things to do while sitting alone at a table in a crowded restaurant. (I don't have a smart phone, so it's possible that for people who DO have one, this list is unncessary.)

Ten Things To Do While Waiting For Your Food When Eating Out Alone

1. Clean out your purse.
2. Read a book - easy to do these days if you have one of those e-Readers in your purse.
3. Count up all the spare change you found while cleaning out your purse.
4. Solve a sudoko or crossword puzzle (carry a small book of them in your purse, which you'll find while cleaning out your purse)
5. Ask for crayons and a children's placemat and colour. Maybe the placemat will have other puzzles to solve too. Always good to keep your brain in shape.
6. Go visit the ladies' room to freshen up and comb your hair with the comb you found while cleaning out your purse.
7. Write a letter to a loved one on the napkin (do this only if you're sure they'll bring you another napkin though...some don't...but I rarely eat in those kinds of places anymore.)
8. Pray...I do this...I don't bow my head, so it probably looks like I'm talking to myself. But if I haven't written a love note on my napkin, I can use the napkin to pretend that I'm wiping my mouth or hold it up to my face as if I'm about to sneeze...I can mutter quite a few mouthfuls of prayer behind that napkin. I do try to pray quietly, in my head, but sometimes my mouth just can't help but join in.
9. Make lists - I made up this list while waiting for my fish and chips on Friday. Take your time, mull it over, it's important stuff, so don't rush it!
10. Sort through and review all of the other lists in your purse, which you found while cleaning out your purse, and tick off all the stuff you finished...and then rewrite ANOTHER list to include all of the unticked items on all of your other lists. Next time you find yourself sitting alone in a restaurant and cleaning out your purse, you'll be glad you did!

I hope this helps. If you have a smartphone that allows you to access the Internet and play games, completely disregard this entire blog. 

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Father's Day Jottings

I was going to blog about Father's Day, but it's still difficult. Too sad. I still miss my Dad so much and when I delve too deeply into those wondrous memories, they just make me cry too much. I cry for the wonderful memories, and I cry for the many missed opportunities...for all the birthdays and Fathers' Days when I couldn't get home to celebrate with him. Now I have all the time in the world, but he's not here...that makes me terribly sad.

Oh that we could have known then what we know now:

How precious that time is, but we don't realize it at the time.

How much his laughter will echo through our hearts for the rest of our lives, long long after he's gone. Sometimes it will bring joy and a smile, sometimes it will bring longing and tears. Always it will bring our hearts and minds back to those moments and make us wish we could be back there again to hear him laugh just one more time.

How the smell of his cigar will forever haunt us and create such yearnings in us whenever we smell it again.

How lucky we were to have such a wonderful father, because when we grow older we will find out that so many other children were not as lucky.

How the little things become the big things, how little seemingly insignificant morsels of time and presence become engraved on our hearts as the most important moments of all time.

How his favourite foods become mine too. I just wish he had told us the secret ingredient in his world-famous BBQ hamburgers...

How the memory of those long walks together become such beacons of joy and gladness in the midst of sorrow and grief.

How every memory of every moment that we spent with him brings sharp jabs of pain when we realize we could have had more, if only...

How much we would wish to go back and hug him more, thank him more, cherish him more.

How much we would give just to have one more day, one more hour, one more hug.

How much Father's Day will hurt after he's gone...why didn't we know that at the time? Why don't some fathers' children know it now? How do we take them and shake them and tell them what we know now that we didn't know then - what they don't know now and will forever wish they had known?!

Yes, it's a painful day for some of us. A painful day for children who no longer have their fathers, and a painful day for fathers who won't hear from their children today.

But I am so very very grateful that I had my Dad for the 44 years that I did, and I will always be grateful for the wonderful life he gave his children and the beautiful memories he left behind in his only daughter. Thank you Daddy.


The greatest gift I ever had came from God.
I call him Dad.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Corners and Changes

Well, my body held up well today. After 3 hours of cleaning our neighbour's kitchen this morning, it's not doing as badly as I had feared. With arthritis in the back, hips, knees, toes and hands, all of which were heavily involved in the cleaning spree, I had my doubts that I'd be able to walk out of that house unaided! But although I was definitely exhausted, I was surprised to discover that I still had enough stamina left to take a shower and change my clothes. That would have been impossible a couple of months ago! It's wondrous to me to have so much more energy, stamina and mobility these days!

The house belongs to our 90+ year old neighbours. They had to move into a nursing home unexpectedly just before Christmas. I mentioned them earlier in a blog about Comforting Clutter. It has been a very long exhausting chore getting that house ready for sale. Their daughter and several grandsons have helped when able, but they're all from out of town, work full time, and/or have family and health issues of their own that have made it difficult for them to do what's been needed to be done. And so we've often had to wait in between their sporadic visits because of the uncertainty of who wants what and what to do with all of the unsorted, unmarked stuff.

But it's all done now. Everything's been cleaned out and found a new home, either with one of them, or at the local women's shelters and charity second-hand stores, or in our basement for temporary storage, or in the garbage heap on Monday mornings. From a home where every nook and cranny was jam-packed with stuff to an empty house where the silence bounces off the scuff marks on the walls, it's been quite a journey. Frustrating and arduous at times, raw and sad the rest of the time.

Today as we pulled out the appliances and scrubbed out long-neglected corners, I couldn't help but reflect on old age, and the sadness of crumbling bodies and fading minds - and the growing dilemma that our aging boomer population faces as more and more of us creep ever closer to the point where we're not going to be able to clean our own clutter or scrub out the various soon-to-be-unreachable patches of our own homes.

For me, the most troubling dilemma has to do with the reality that I was never able to have children, or grandchildren. My husband is 15 years older than I am, and so I don't know who, if anyone, will be there for me when the time comes. I don't know if there will be anyone to take any interest in my clutter, much less care enough to want to scrub out my grubby corners. I can't dwell on that for any length of time, because there are too many seeds of despair inside of that line of thinking. So I have to stay focused on here and now, on what I DO have, which is a healthy reservoir of stamina and ability, and a healthy husband who still thrives on staying busy, and focus also on what I CAN do NOW to minimize the clutter and number of corners that will need our brooms and attention in the years yet to come.

We've been tossing around the idea of moving. We saw a house we both like. It's significantly smaller than this house, but it's all on one floor (with a finished basement), an attached garage and a huge beautiful lot. We would have to downsize in terms of clutter, but we would end up with a house that would be easier to maintain,  a beautiful big yard that would provide us with space and opportunities that we don't have right now and some beautiful walking paths within walking distance (right now, we have to drive to get just about anywhere). We're already talking about buying the backyard swing we've both been hankering for, and growing fruit trees and a vegetable garden...and the outdoor clothesline which our current townhouse bylaws don't allow us to have here.

Although it would not be an easy move for us in many ways, the benefits are beginning to outweigh the difficulties. And after seeing firsthand what happens to corners and ceilings after years of neglect by people who simply haven't been able to bend down or reach up to clean them, I'm even more interested in a lifestyle change that will make it easier for us - and our corners - to stay healthy and bright as long as possible as we grow older.

From an old Sunday School song I used to sing as a child:
Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to shed your light afar;
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are.  (Ina D. Ogdon, 1913)

“O Holy Spirit, descend plentifully into my heart. Enlighten the dark corners of this neglected dwelling and scatter there Thy cheerful beams.” (St Augustine)

Friday, June 15, 2012

More Useful Things to Know

Well, it's Friday. I've been rounding up some more interesting sites to visit on the Internet. Triva, Precarious Places (maybe you'll enjoy more vicariously here than in person), A beautiful garden (especially useful if you're housebound for any reason), lots of useless facts to throw out at your next dinner party, and pictures galore of places I know I'll never be able to take pictures of in my lifetime. Enjoy!!


20 Useful Things You Can Accomplish in 15 Minutes

21 Useful Facts (really interesting tidbits here)

Lots of Interesting Random Useful Trivia

 Another Collection of Amazing Trivia

Keukenhof - Take a Virtual Walk in the Park

A Collection of the Most Precarious Places in the World

Want to Get Away From it All? (might be overlaps from previous link)

Apparently Useless Facts

More Trivia

Somebody's List of the 10 (actually more) Beautiful Places in the World (beautiful pictures!)

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Donka

Just yesterday I mentioned my hairdresser. Her name is Donka and I first discovered her in 1997 shortly after moving to this city. She worked in a hair salon at the mall, about a 10-minute walk from our home. Donka was the very first hairdresser in my life who knew what to do with my hair. And even after I left work and had no income except the little pension for putting up with hubby's deafness, I refused to give up my Donka. Donka has seen me through a whole lot of living over the past 15 years...a new business school, lots of certification exams (I always liked my hair to look nice for those, even though they were computerized), a new job, a new house, a new bout of depression, the deaths of both parents and many beloved in-laws, the 8-month illness and death of my brother, my wedding, many trips to Cuba and elsewhere, my book launch, many speaking engagements after the book launch, my own brief but frightening cancer diagnosis - and then celebrating the subsequent good news by dying my hair pink! And so many, many other ordinary moments in between the big stuff, when I just needed to feel better about myself (a daunting task!)

Donka has cut my hair through tears, fears and despair, grief and anxiety attacks, laughter and excitement; she has listened to tales of far-away places, rants about the infuriating people in my life and we've swapped chapters in the on-going sagas of in-laws and celebrities and other assorted insane people in our lives. And always, through it all, Donka made me feel beautiful, important and stronger with her words of encouragement and the wisdom of someone who's also experienced a lot of roller coaster moments in her oft-times difficult life.

Donka always seemed to know exactly what I needed before I even sat in the chair. Not just what my hair needed, she could also read my mood and personality - and especially the sadness that I just couldn't shake after losing my parents and brother...going to Donka for a haircut was like a one-stop trip to the beauty salon, a masseur and therapist all in one. She always made me laugh, and she always hugged me with wonderful big loving hugs whenever we met in the mall. I love Donka. She's one of the bright lights in my life.

I last saw her just after we got back from Cuba in April. She told me that the salon was moving to a new location just across the hall. So everytime we walked through that section of the mall I'd look in, but didn't think anything of it when I never saw her in there. She usually works afternoons and evenings, and we do our shopping in the mornings. It's not unusual for us to not see each other for weeks at a time.

So today I called, and was stunned to hear that she's no longer working there. Panic attack!! I was terrified that something terrible had happened to her. But I quickly squelched it, though could feel those ever-ready tears hovering nearby, and asked if Donka had left any forwarding information for her regular clients. I was clearly being snowballed when the young voice on the other end of the telephone said no and hung up.

I tried in vain to search online in case Donka had started a salon of her own somewhere in the city. Not knowing her last name meant it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Unfortunately one of the haystacks I looked in exploded my laptop and it took me several hours to recover and restore my dearly beloved window to the world!

So I'm in a bit of a messy quandary. My hair is trickling down into my eyes - and I can't cut it myself because Donka made me solemnly swear 15 years ago that I would never ever cut my own hair unless I found myself stranded on a deserted island without her. So I can't resort to broken promises yet. That little bald spot on the back on my head is getting more visible because she's not there to layer it into camouflage-mode. Thank goodness for my Sunday Afternoon hat - and French braids. But I can't just switch to another hairdresser without making sure that Donka's not out there somewhere hoping that I'll find her.

Sigh. I'll have to bribe some information out of one of Donka's co-workers. And when I do find her, the first thing I'm going to do, after hugging her with profound gratitude for having found her again, is write down her last name. She'll be so pleased when she hears I wrote a whole blog about her.

I really hope that this isn't yet another rug I have to let get tugged out from under my feet, er, my wanton Farrah-Fawcett-wanna-be curls.

  Update: I just found out today (Friday) that Donka is now working at a car dealership selling new cars!!! I remember from my last visit that she was really having difficulty dealing with all the chemicals...maybe that's why she needed to switch careers for now. I'm just glad she's okay!

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Age Angst

 I honestly don't know how it happened. Sometimes the flashbacks make me shake my head in disbelief and I have to pinch myself to see if this really is me now. How did I get to be in my mid-fifties already?!! And yet, looking back at pictures and memories, she seems like another person in a another world...or maybe a character in a book I read a long long time ago...or someone I vaguely remember seeing in a movie thirty-something years ago. I can't always connect with the person in those photographs or the young woman in those flashbacks. It just doesn't feel like it could possibly have been me.

Age. I don't know if I'm middle-aged or old-age...where is the line these days? What I do know is that this body sure ain't the same body that built sand castles at the cottage with my two youngest brothers all summer; or chased little children all over the playground as a day care teacher; or even the same body that carried heavy computer equipment up and down stairs and crawled around the floor hooking up cables every day for several years as a computer network administrator.

This is a stranger's body...I don't recognize it anymore.

The sharp mind that breezed through dozens of tough certification exams to become a Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer (no small feat, that!) now hears the information echoing like a babbling brook draining out through the huge black holes in my memory banks. The best way to describe my brain these days is "Flash Memory"...things pop in and then disappear in a flash!

And my hair! After 30+ years, I've finally found a hairdresser who can give me that long-yearned-for Farrah Fawcett look...but only if you look from the front...if you approach from the back you could be forgiven for mistaking me for an endangered Bald Eagle.

And the boobs!!! Don't get me started on the boobs! How did Maya Angelou describe them? Oh yes, When Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older, Maya Angelou said it was "exciting"...that there was something new happening every day...like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist first.What she didn't mention that I would have liked to hear more about was how they can still be very pointy - but pointy in all the wrong places.

And don't forget about the leaks!!! I leak everywhere!!! I cry at the drop of a hat, and pee at the mere hint of a sneeze. We tried to go camping a couple of years ago and I spent more time running back and forth to the bathroom (which was about a block away from our tent) than I did in my sleeping bag. That was one night I wouldn't have minded being a man.

Add some creaky knees, heel spurs and toes that can tell me there's a storm coming even before the weather forecasters, and well, I'm really beginning to get scared. You see, we're going to China in the fall. In China, they still use squat toilets in the public washrooms. I'm already starting to practice, and it's not going well. It's hard enough getting into proper position, but I still can't get back up without, well, falling. With knees that don't like to bend, heels and toes that don't balance me well anymore, and boobs that just naturally pull me front and forward now (much like a dog on a leash when it spies a squirrel), it's not a pretty sight going on in my brain...it's making those long walks to the camp bathroom look like a walk in the park. 

And why doesn't that Flash Memory work on demand?
Ah, the joys and excitement of growing old. Something new everyday indeed. I can hardly wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Deafness...It's About So Much More Than Ears

One thing I've learned from living with my husband for the past 19 years is that there are many different kinds of deafness. Living with a physically deaf person can be frustrating at times. Living with someone whose full-time job appears to be creating new ways to be deaf is, well, excruciatingly frustrating.

According to the specialist, I have perfect hearing. I already knew it because I can hear a pin drop in the next apartment. But I went to the specialist because my husband decided once to turn the tables on me and complained that I didn't seem to be hearing him (he was talking about physical hearing). So, always wanting to be vigilant against any possible health issues, I got myself tested. The specialist was genuinely incredulous when he asked me why I had come, and I told him. He shook his head and told me that I was hearing sounds in extreme ranges that he'd never even seen any patient ever hear before.

So my husband never tried that tactic on me again.

Over the years, I've been able to identify six of the most common types of deafness in our household. I thought I'd share my hard-earned wisdom here. I'm sure many of us have experienced, or perhaps even suffered from one or more of these kinds of deafness. It can't hurt to be aware...knowledge is power, they say.

So the first obvious form of deafness is "Physical Deafness". My husband is offically deaf, though it's not 100%. He became deaf from working around airplanes in the days before they knew to wear ear protection. He gets a pension for his deafness. And I also get a nice little pension as well, apparently for putting up with his deafness. So technically, I'm not really supposed to complain about his deafness. So I do stoically put up with it, because, well, that little pension gives me enough spending money to go shopping whenever putting up with his deafness becomes too frustrating. :))

Perhaps it's because he's physically deaf, or maybe it's simply because he's a man, my husband has perfected other forms of deafness. It's hard to choose which one he's best at, but I'll start with what I call "Distracted Deafness". This one becomes problematic when he knows he has something to do, like repairs at a neighbour's house...it's as if nothing - and nobody - else exists until he can get over there to do it. When he knows something has to be done, it really gnaws away at him and he can't seem to relax until he gets it done. And all during that in-between waiting time, his brain is already over there, mentally figuring out what tools he'll need and what steps he'll have to take to finish the job.

That's admirable, I can identify, it's what I used to have to do to keep up with my job as a computer network admin. But it does cause problems. Example...a few years ago, we went through a stretch of a few days when he was virtually unreachable. Nothing I said was making a dent in his distraction. His kisses were distracted, his hugs were mere pats on the back, his body was here but his eyes clearly showed that he was a million miles away. I kept asking him what was going on, but he kept saying nothing.

Finally on the 3rd day, my insecurities couldn't take it anymore and I started crying, convinced that he'd found someone else. So I made him sit down and tell me what was going on. He sheepishly pulled himself back into the here-and-now and told me that for the past 3 days he had mentally been constructing a fountain in our front yard (which is very tiny by the way). He had been trying to figure out how to run the piping, how to connect it electrically, etc, etc. Now we had never ever talked about having a fountain in the front lawn. But as he shared this with me, I laughed. Not at him, but at the way his brain had been working - I've been there, stuck on an imaginary "problem" and unable to detach my brain from it until I had figured it out. So I very kindly ended his dilemma by reminding him that we had too many young children living in the neighbourhood so we couldn't have a fountain for fear that one of them would drown in it.  So that ended the fountain deafness - but the "distracted deafness" lives on with every new chore that comes along.

I think the next form of deafness might be getting worse with age. I'm not sure when it first began, but I do know it's showing up more and more. I call it "Me-First Deafness". We've all seen it...when someone has something they desperately want to say, and so they can't seem to hear what anyone else is saying until they get to say theirs first. I've not only seen, I've felt it welling up inside of me too, when I want so badly to respond to someone's opinion or contribute something really clever to the conversation, there comes a point where I can barely hear what anyone else is saying because my head is too full of what I want to say...I'm literally rehearsing in my head how I'm going to say it. My husband has gotten very good at this one. I've learned that there's no point in trying to get him to listen to what I'm saying until he gets his words out first...even if it's totally unrelated to what we're supposed to be talking about. 

The next form of deafness is probably the most common, and one of the most exasperating ones for me. "Selective Deafness" (others refer to it as Selective Hearing, but I prefer my label because I think it more accurately articulates the stubbornness behind it). Do I need to go into this one? Is it safe to say we've all experienced it? Haven't we all caught ourselves at it? All I'm going to add is that my husband excels at this one. It's always baffling to me how such an intelligent well-read man with an almost perfect memory can so conveniently not understand a point I'm trying to make in a discussion where it becomes clear to him that I might be (gasp) right. Or forget that I want to stop off somewhere when we're en route to somewhere he wants to go...but admittedly that only happens when the place I want to stop off at is not someplace he enjoys going. Strange that...

For the next form of deafness I'm only going to whisper it, because, well, I do like to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I can't prove that this one really exists...I just suspect...strongly suspect...enough to include it here. But I'm not going to provide examples because, well, I might come across as being crazy and paranoid for believing they're anything but genuine innocent incidents of merely missing my words. I call this one (whisper) "Fake Deafness".

The last one is the one I detest the most. I call this one "TV Deafness". Okay, I admit it, there are moments in some programs that I don't want to miss either...the last five minutes of a murder mystery, that moment in a soap opera when months of cliff-hanging storylines finally get explained and you find out all the sordid secrets that will never again be revealed for as long as you live. But come on now, how can a man be racing through the channels with a remote control one second and then become so totally immersed in a program the next that he can't hear a word I'm saying?! How do I compete with Dick and Mary, or a little black hockey puck racing down the ice, or worse, the lions camped out on the Serengeti waiting for the gazelles to leap by?! I don't get it. Unfortunately, not being able to understand it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

I do notice that his hearing magically comes back the moment I pick up my laptop and get totally immersed in my Facebook page. What's that you said, dear?

Deafness. It's about so much more than ears.

Sometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you're not."


Monday, June 11, 2012

Blogging The Journey

I started writing this blog because there is a lot of crap going on inside of me, because there was a lot of crap going on in my life for the past few years. The crap has finally settled down...but there is, and will continue to be, fallout to deal with. So my hope is that by pouring some of it out here, it might help me find better ways to get through.

I want my life to make a positive difference. I want my words to bring light and hope and maybe even comfort to anyone who reads them...including my own self, because I too need light and hope for my own journey. It's fun searching through the Internet for positive messages, inspirational quotes and beautiful pictures to share with others, here and on Facebook, but I do it also because of my own need to soak in that beauty and inspiration and positivity. I post these words because I really need them to sink into my own psyche and keep me moving forward and upward. I don't want to get sucked into the darkness that hovers at the edge of my day, waiting to grab me by even the thinnest shred of futility and pull me down into a dark hole too deep to climb my own way out of.

So I write all around it, infusing hope and light, because I know that there has to be hope and light. Even though I might not be feeling positive deep down inside, I hope that by writing it into my script, it will come true.

Because underneath all of these attempts to rewrite myself into a better place is a strong undercurrent of remnant sadness. I still feel bruised by the impact of so much fallout, and lost in the rubble of so many rugs being pulled out from under me recently. I simply don't know how to cope with it all sometimes, it's so overwhelming. So I don't do anything at all, except resolutely plodding on, day after day, breaking each day into manageable chunks of routines and moments, ignoring the ambiguity between where I am and where I want to be. Because if I confront it, it means I'd have to do something about it and I can't...or don't want to have to make any life-altering decisions right now. I need some of these rugs to stay under my feet for now.

I guess that's my coping mechanisms...to just take each day as it comes and deal with it in those smaller  chunks. I wake up in the morning determined to fling open those curtains and breathe in enough of that sunlight and "clean slate" mercy to carry me through the day with enough positivity and gratitude attitude to make it all the way through to that moment when I can fall back into bed again and be grateful to have made it through another day.

My experience has been that when we dwell too long on the negative, we often just end up perpetuating it and never find our way out of it. As valuable as therapy has been throughout my life, there has always come that point when it was time to stop digging around in the dirt and start building something better with whatever is left to build on. So here, I'm trying to use the negative stuff only to provide background and a starting point, and from there I want to explore the hope and light and all the small "do-able" ways to find the way through, in hopes that it not only helps me but maybe someone else who is also struggling.

Most of us are hurting in some way; many of us find ourselves fumbling our way to new horizons that we're forced to redefine because of loss and fallout and rugs being pulled out from underneath us. We need hope that we can find safe pathways through the tough stretches of road, and light to help us find our footing in the strange new surroundings that we face when new upheavals leave us lost without an updated roadmap.

I don't know if my struggles help anyone else. I do know I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other in blind faith that one day the light and hope that I try to infuse into my writings become my own and not just borrowed from catchy quotes and beautiful Googled pictures.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

This Sunday's Top Ten Lists

It's Sunday again! Time for a few more Top Ten lists! They're fun to put together. Let's see what we come up with today.

My Top Ten Favourite Places to Be
1. Home in my own bed after a long day, or after being away for a long time
2. On Facebook when my international friends are online too
3. Lazing on a lounge chair beside the pool at our favourite resort in Cuba
4. Sitting anywhere with any of our Cuban friends
5. Walking on the boardwalk in Sept-Iles Quebec meeting people we know everywhere we go
6. Sitting in my chair with my plate full of my favourite meal
7. Sitting around the dining table with family and friends
8. Sitting at the table playing board (or card) games
9. Dancing under the stars to beautiful music
10. In my husband's arms


My Top Ten LEAST Favourite Places to Be
1. Waiting in an airport
2. Standing out in the pouring rain with no umbrella or raincoat
3. Walking in a cold blizzard with freezing rain hitting my eyes
4. In a dirty stinking public bathroom
5. Waiting in the doctor's waiting room with people coughing and clearly sick
6. Anywhere I'm being scolded, reprimanded or verbally attacked in any way
7. At the end of a long lineup in the grocery store
8. Being a guest at someone's supper table and looking at a huge pile of cold tinned green peas on my plate
9. Sitting anywhere and hearing hundreds (millions?) of mosquitoes buzzing around my face
10. Drowning (yes, it almost happened)

Top Ten Things that Make Me Grateful While I'm in My Least Favourite Places
1. When the plane is on time
2. The bus arriving earlier than scheduled
3. Hubby pulling up in the car to pick me up
4. Toilet paper in the public bathroom
5. Hand sanitizer
6. Good feet and the courage to help me walk away from hostile situations
7. A new checkout opens and the cashier beckons me to come right over
8. Hubby reaching over and eating all my green peas
9. Finding insect repellant in my purse
10. Being rescued just in time

More next Sunday!!

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Now Is Right On Time





Somebody posted this on my Facebook wall last night and it sent me to bed with gratitude in my heart because for several days now, I've been in a bit of a funk. It was triggered by hearing about a family reunion that took place recently - and to which I was not invited. And yet I heard about it only because people contacted me to say that they were sorry I hadn't been able to make it - apparently they all thought that it had been too far for us to drive. But after searching through my email and phone messages, we're sure that we received nothing about being welcome to join the gathering. It would not have bothered me so much to hear that everyone had gotten together...it only bothered me to hear that they THOUGHT I had been invited and just didn't show up. When in fact, I've been so hungry for family lately that nothing would have kept me away had I known I would be welcome.

So then I've been haunted and plagued by the relentless "why" running helter-skelter through my mind ever since. And that caused another avalanche of regrets and despair, and those old familiar feelings of inferiority and worthlessness because in my mind, the lack of invitation affirmed the fear that my life has been such a disaster and taken such questionable twists and turns as to render me unacceptable in the eyes and hearts of this part of my family. "Beyond Redemption" so to speak.

In my saner, wiser moments, I'm convinced beyond doubt that there is no such thing as being "beyond redemption". I've experienced the mercy and grace of God to such profound and tangible extents, that it is impossible for me to believe that any one of us could ever be beyond His love. And yet, there I was, lost and wallowing in those old fears that I could be wrong and that maybe....

But I resolutely fought back against that tide of despair, clinging to my faith and to the lessons I've learned about God's Love. I wrestled with these old regrets and ancient tapes in my head, and prayed for help in my endeavor to refocus on the positive and good - on GOD'S loving vision for my life - I mean, we can't go back and rewrite history, can we...and having experienced His mercy and tender compassion, it's impossible to conceive that we would be forever banned from His Presence because of stupid choices we've made in the past. The only sane way to keep oneself going is to believe that there is good that can come out of anything and everything...that we can grow and evolve and perhaps even become wounded healers, able to help others who are also lost and wounded along their way.

So I prayed, and wept, and prayed some more, and read inspirational writings, and prayed, nagging Him with my angst and moanings, crawling into His Love for solace, and then slowly began to regain my footing to the point where I could let go of all of that garbage. And then a friend, who knew nothing of all of this, posted this quote on my wall. For me it was the perfect answer to my prayers...a tender, loving response from a tender, loving God who knows the crushing disappointment I feel about myself all too often, who knows the agonizing sadness of those regrets and my ongoing attempts to fumble my way to "better" and "wiser".

My journey has molded me for my greater good. It was exactly what it needed to be. I can believe that none of it was lost (or wasted) time - because it has taken EACH and EVERY situation - every twist and turn has had its lessons and wisdoms that He needed me to learn - to bring me to my - not just "my", but HIS "now" for me - and this "now", here today, is RIGHT ON TIME! Hallelujah!!

Maybe my invitation was lost in the mail. Maybe they were just meant to be together the way they gathered, for reasons more profound than any of us know. Now it's okay. I'm okay. I trust again. There will be other gatherings, and the time will be right for me to be there. God answered. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. And it is very very good.




Friday, June 8, 2012

Useful Things to Know


I love to research things on the Internet. It used to be one of my favourite aspects of my job as a Computer Network Administrator. I liked the "Sherlock Holmes" feel to it. So today I just frittered around on Google and came up with some interesting sites to share here.

Someone taught me this today: If you press "shift" and < (at the same time) and then 3 and then enter you make a ♥ Here are some more
  Uses for WD-40
50 Things Everybody Should Know How to Do
11 Neat Google Tricks I Didn't Know About 
 Everything You Wanted to Know About Knots
 Interesting Collection Here  
 Top 10 Tips and Tricks to Train Your Brain
Food Substitutions  
More Recipe Rescues 
Conversion Site - Convert just about anything here! 
Herb and Spice Chart 
Kitchen 101: Measuring Chart 
Top 10 Ways to Refresh Yourself  
Top 10 Words We Need to Stop Misspelling 
Healing Herbs Reference Database 
 
I'd love to be able to build one of these!

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Staving off Diabetes

Well, all of that chocolate and Cuban bread pudding and Grenache caramel have finally caught up with me. I admit, I really let myself go a few years ago. I could probably blame it on grief and the need to fill the gaping holes left behind by so many people dying so close together. Food was one of the few comforts in those in-between days...after the intense grief of the first few "firsts" (birthdays, etc) and just before the real healing felt tangible. Food helped bridge me over those days when I honestly didn't know if I wanted to keep going.

Unfortunately, once I reached stable ground again, I just kept on reaching for those comfort foods. I did try to cut down, and succeeded quite admirably for a stretch of time. Then we went to Cuba. We've been going to this same hotel for about 10 years. We know all of the staff, and many, many of the people in the surrounding villages. This past winter was different. Tourism was down and the hotel was suffering. Many people had been laid off work, and those who still had jobs were noticeably worried who was going next.

When we arrived, there were not many other tourists there. For the tourists who WERE there, it was wonderful. Peaceful, quiet...we had the beach and the pool - and the snack bar - all to ourselves, no fighting over lounge chairs, no pushing and shoving at the bars and buffet table (yes, sadly, it has been a pathetic reality there in past years, which could explain in part the drop in tourists to that hotel...).

At first we were worried that the food would suffer (it has received poor reviews in the past), but to our delight, the opposite happened. Perhaps it was because we were such a small crowd and they were able to experiment more, but the end result was a buffet table laden with some of the tastiest food we've ever seen offered there. And on top of that, one of the head waitresses found out that Cuban bread pudding was my favourite dessert. In past years, it was only available one, maybe twice a week. But this year, once she found out, she made sure it was available at EVERY dessert, not only supper but lunch as well.

I tried to resist. But resistance was futile. At first, because we didn't know it was going to be available in such profusion for the rest of our vacation (4 weeks), I took 2-3 pieces...it's the Cuban way...when it's there, you enjoy it, because tomorrow it might not be there. So, you know, when in Cuba, do as the Cubans do. And so I enjoyed it immensely...the first night, then the next night, and then the next night...on and on and on. I sort of felt obligated to eat it because she had gone to the trouble of making sure it was there for me...and she took obvious delight in my delight. So I didn't want to disappoint her. But at about the 3rd week, I knew I was in trouble. I had never eaten that much dessert before in my life. And I could feel the difference, and it didn't feel good.

And then we arrived home just in time for Easter...well, I've always made up a little Easter basket for whoever is here, and did so again. But this year nobody else came, so guess who had to eat all of that chocolate - including the 10 Lindt gold bunnies that were on sale at the pharmacy for $1.00 each!!! Not hubby, because he's already a diabetic.

I'm such a wimp.

I could feel my sugar rising. Getting up 5-7 times every night, drinking tons of water yet still feeling dehydrated...both my Mom and Dad had Type 2 diabetes, so I knew that the risks were higher...and knew the signs. So it was no real surprise when my yearly checkup showed the highest blood sugar level I'd ever shown before. The doctor gave me a stern warning - get my sugar down or else she would send me for the dreaded glucose test at the hospital.

So we've been taking long walks every morning, and I've been running (or limping at times) up and down our two flights of stairs several times a day, I've taken over the vacuuming (hubby's so disappointed), and severely cut down on my sugar, fats and overall intake. My follow-up blood test was yesterday...hubby took it with his home tester before we left for the lab, and it was still a bit high, but we walked a bit and then waited in the waiting room for about another half hour. Hopefully it will be within her acceptable level.

In the meantime, while waiting for the results, I'm hungry. But the fear of developing diabetes is trumping my hunger, so I'm doing well in sticking to the diet. It's a new lifestyle, one that both hubby and I have been wanting to switch to every since our return from Cuba (he overindulged there too, and already has type 2 diabetes, so has to watch his diet and exercise as well).

A friend of mine, another frequent tourist to the same hotel in Cuba (we repeat tourists go back as often as possible to keep bringing much-needed items to our friends there) begged me to go with her a few days ago. But I knew I couldn't afford to - it was too big a risk right now healthwise - because I know all too well that the moment I would have gotten there, the Cuban bread pudding would have been out on the dessert table.

They say that what happens in Cuba stays in Cuba...unfortunately that didn't prove to be true for the Cuban bread pudding - it definitely came home with me!!!!

Sigh. And it was so good while it lasted.

 

Update: June 12, 2012...the doctor called and is sending me for more tests...sugar's still too high. Sigh.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Scoldings

Who likes to be scolded? Not me. I didn't as a child, and I certainly don't like being scolded now at 56 years old. I used to just cringe and scuttle off in shame and embarrassment. Now I just start blubbering right then and there.

This morning we took two boxes of books to our local library. One of our neighbours is a volunteer there in a program which takes donations of used books, then resells them to raise funds for the library. So we had arranged with her to take the boxes there today. We parked, went into reception where we were instructed to go to the side door where someone would meet us. We did, and he did, and without any preamble or warning, he started scolding me for a) bringing the books in a box instead of shopping bags; and b) for coming to that door instead of through the front door to the reception desk. What?? He kept going on and on with this blatantly hostile scolding. Normally, even just a few months ago, it would have been enough to send me running for the car for cover. But this morning, I didn't run and felt something strong and powerful well up in me - yes, it was my own voice!

I calmly (but in a slightly raised voice so I could speak over HIS voice) told him that we had pre-arranged this all with our neighbour, and that we had already gone to the reception desk FIRST and that the woman there had redirected us here to this door. He mumbled something that I couldn't catch (though I'm pretty sure it was NOT an apology) and we all managed to stay civil long enough to get the two boxes of books where they were supposed to go. Then my husband went back to the car to re-park and I walked over to where our neighbour was working and promptly burst into tears. After taking a few moments to recompose myself, we were able to chat and she showed me around that part of the library. And then we left and that was that. Which in itself is a minor miracle.

For about the past ten years, I've had trouble getting myself out my front door. Everything and everybody scared me. I would burst into tears for absolutely no reason at all, right in the middle of the store, at the checkout, in the mall...it was terribly inconvenient and humiliating, and so I just stopped going out anywhere for quite a long time. Eventually I was able to get out as long as my husband was with me, but whenever he was away working, I couldn't even go out the front door to get the mail. It was ridiculous, and irrational, but that's the way it was.

It has only been in the past year or so that I've been able to go out my own front door on my own. I can even sit outside on my front porch all by myself now, though some days it can still be very difficult to do. But I force myself now, because I know it's something I just have to do myself.

But today's episode is exactly the sort of thing that I dread. I don't like confrontation, hostility in any shape or form triggers all sorts of stressful responses in my body, but the very worst of all is to be scolded - especially to be scolded for something that doesn't deserve a scolding. I've never been good at that, it's long been a source of angst and sorrow for me to be scolded for something I didn't do or that I did do but doesn't warrant a scolding.

This morning's confrontation was so unexpected that it totally discombobulated me - for all of a few minutes. While I learned that I still don't like being scolded, and that I still burst into tears very easily, I also learned that it wasn't enough to send me scuttling back into hibernation, and that I have come far enough along to have been able to stop him and stand up for myself. That felt good.

But I don't really like that I ended up doing exactly to him what I was ranting about him doing to me...scolding him...that didn't feel so good to either one of us. I do recognize that in his own mind he had reasons that made sense to him for approaching me like that. Sigh. We're all works-in-progress, aren't we!

But for now, I'll focus on the good and positive lessons learned today and grow with that.

(PS, you've come a long way baby!!)