The sun is shining, the wind is strong enough to let me know the time of summer zephyrs has past for now, it is cold enough to cull through my loved winter socks to warmly decorate my feet, and the wood is stacked and ready for its final call to duty.
Good people fill my life. We gathered at a home, high on a cliff along the Fundy, last night, to celebrate birthdays. In reality we were celebrating friendship, indeed life. Each arrival was greeted with enthusiasm and introductions were hurled through air, often missing the mark, but nevertheless, confirming everyone was welcome.
Meat roasted on the large outdoor grill, the salads and other accompanying dishes gradually filled up one table and then took over another. Wine bottles gathered on another table with a motley assortment of glasses. Many remained uncorked, ready for another time.
As it got dark, it got colder. Car blankets draped the cold shoulders of the unprepared. Ever changing groups of people filled and refilled their plates. In time the weaker among us sought shelter inside the house with its heated floors. Hugs and laughter. Laughter and hugs. Friends of friends have become friends.
My cousin and his band clunked around their equipment in a corner for awhile, then the music began. Refugees from the sixties, moved their longtime moves. Mountain dancing has evolved its own unique style. The few younger participants, with mesmerising moves, let us know time had moved on, but that didn't seem to matter. The combinations of dancers was ever changing. The music was good and my cousin was happy.
This morning is a" back into bed morning". Sunday morning reverie is enhanced as I hear from my kids and grandkids that for the most part, all is well in their worlds.
I patiently, and a wee bit apprehensively, await the eclipse of the blood red moon and the highest tides in years, tonight
For now, I'll watch the crows tumbling through the sky, for the sheer love of it.
Sunday 27 September 2015
Saturday 13 June 2015
Karen, An individual who will not be forgotten.
Karen asked me several times to write her eulogy. Unfortunately, I live too far away to be at her Memorial Service. I will be there in spirit. Here is some of the material I would have included.
Here goes it Karen.
1. There has never been, nor will there ever be another just like her.
2. I don't know anyone who embraced motherhood with more enthusiasm.
3. Karen loved being pregnant.
4. With husband Bill she produced four, unique, talented human beings in five years. ( Ok, there was one set of twins. )
5. Her children, were always at the hub of the neighbourhood.
6. Karen's mother, with a voice that was seldom restrained, was a frequent fixture on Karen's front lawn.
7. Karen loved family and it was lucky she did. She was part of an active brood of siblings.
8. Karen loved all kids, especially the children she spent so much time with at a school/hospital for multi-handicapped children.
9. I don't think there was a kid who didn't love Karen.
10. I don't think there was a child she couldn't bring a smile to the face.
11. I don't think there is a limit to the number of babies, Karen wanted to have. The family would NOT have been of the Dugger mode.
!2. Karen's strength didn't lie in organization and housework skills.
13. There is nobody I would rather have on my team for a grand celebration.
14. Karen was a strong supporter of The Royal Family. One year to her surprise she found herself a member of The Monarchist League of Canada.
15. The membership came with a fine pair of white gloves.
16. She loved pushing her children throughout the neighbourhood in their fine British perambulator.
17. For many years it remained empty and disconsolate on her front porch.
!8. I don't know whether she loved The Canadian National Exhibition or Christmas the best.
19. At one point, she insisted she wanted her ashes spread on The Ex grounds.
20. Some christmas ornaments stayed up from one Christmas to another.
21. The neighbourhood Christmas Carol Party was legend.
22. One year Rudolph the Reindeer arrived with treats for the kids. I don't think Emily ever got over it.
23. Karen filled her children's lives with music.
24. Music remains an important part of their lives.
25. Karen liked teaching Sunday School.
26. She was a little under confident of her theology, but her class made mighty fine crafts.
27. She was a favourite.
28. For much of her life the YMCA Camp Pinecrest was the centre of her universe.
29. She was very adept at all camp activities.
30. One memorable time she chose to impress a young gentleman friend, that she was impervious to the ravages of poison ivy. She rubbed the leaves all over herself. Unfortunately, her immunity was limited. For some time her life was very uncomfortable.
31. To the delight of many, Bill's hands broke out shortly after in a poison ivy like rash.
32. Karen was a proud graduate of Lawrence Park Collegiate.
33. She wore her LPCI blazer for many, many, many years after graduation.
34. Karen was very pleased when her vocational aptitude tests suggested she would make a fine carousel operator.
35. There was never a house with more stray socks than Karen's.
36. Karen was a member in good standing of The Kashe Lake Literary Society. This had nothing to do with books, but was a yearly gathering of neighbourhood friends at our President, Joyce's cottage.
37. The centre of interest was good food, some wine and much merriment.
38. The last meeting was held was held in Harbourville N.S., some years ago.
39. Throughout Karen's life there were more than a few significant challenges.
40. Karen met her challenges with courage and humour.
41. Years ago, Karen was diagnosed with a very rare form of Pancreatic Cancer. She lived a long, rich time after the diagnoses, with much medical intervention.
42. Thankfully, Karen enjoyed almost all things medical.
43. Karen loved dogs. Bandit was a favourite.
45. When my father was dieing, Karen brought her kids home from her cottage for several days so my kids would have kids to play with.
46. Karen was up for almost anything. She kept a container of ladybugs and a praying mantis in her frig, a surprise for my mother, an organic gardener, on Mother's Day. Unfortunately, her kids opened the lid and her frig was filled with hundreds of ladybugs.
47. When I was out and my invalid father did not answer the phone. Not having a key, she sent her smallest boy through the milk door to check on him.
48.She was a great sports fan. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrgoooooooooooooooooes.
49. Most years her kids were in the Santa Clause Parade, an event that meant getting up very, very early.
50. Her young daughter invited the teachers to lunch. In a flurry of faux tidying, her friends helped fill the small room by the back door, from floor to ceiling with stray things, then closed the door. Allison brought the teachers to the back door.
51. Karen loved toys. It wasn't long after the twins were out of diapers, she began putting things away for grandchildren.
52. Karen became a grandma after I left the neighbourhood. I hope she was fully appreciated by her grandchildren.
53. Thanks Karen for leaving so many wonderful memories.
Travelling Mercies.
Here goes it Karen.
1. There has never been, nor will there ever be another just like her.
2. I don't know anyone who embraced motherhood with more enthusiasm.
3. Karen loved being pregnant.
4. With husband Bill she produced four, unique, talented human beings in five years. ( Ok, there was one set of twins. )
5. Her children, were always at the hub of the neighbourhood.
6. Karen's mother, with a voice that was seldom restrained, was a frequent fixture on Karen's front lawn.
7. Karen loved family and it was lucky she did. She was part of an active brood of siblings.
8. Karen loved all kids, especially the children she spent so much time with at a school/hospital for multi-handicapped children.
9. I don't think there was a kid who didn't love Karen.
10. I don't think there was a child she couldn't bring a smile to the face.
11. I don't think there is a limit to the number of babies, Karen wanted to have. The family would NOT have been of the Dugger mode.
!2. Karen's strength didn't lie in organization and housework skills.
13. There is nobody I would rather have on my team for a grand celebration.
14. Karen was a strong supporter of The Royal Family. One year to her surprise she found herself a member of The Monarchist League of Canada.
15. The membership came with a fine pair of white gloves.
16. She loved pushing her children throughout the neighbourhood in their fine British perambulator.
17. For many years it remained empty and disconsolate on her front porch.
!8. I don't know whether she loved The Canadian National Exhibition or Christmas the best.
19. At one point, she insisted she wanted her ashes spread on The Ex grounds.
20. Some christmas ornaments stayed up from one Christmas to another.
21. The neighbourhood Christmas Carol Party was legend.
22. One year Rudolph the Reindeer arrived with treats for the kids. I don't think Emily ever got over it.
23. Karen filled her children's lives with music.
24. Music remains an important part of their lives.
25. Karen liked teaching Sunday School.
26. She was a little under confident of her theology, but her class made mighty fine crafts.
27. She was a favourite.
28. For much of her life the YMCA Camp Pinecrest was the centre of her universe.
29. She was very adept at all camp activities.
30. One memorable time she chose to impress a young gentleman friend, that she was impervious to the ravages of poison ivy. She rubbed the leaves all over herself. Unfortunately, her immunity was limited. For some time her life was very uncomfortable.
31. To the delight of many, Bill's hands broke out shortly after in a poison ivy like rash.
32. Karen was a proud graduate of Lawrence Park Collegiate.
33. She wore her LPCI blazer for many, many, many years after graduation.
34. Karen was very pleased when her vocational aptitude tests suggested she would make a fine carousel operator.
35. There was never a house with more stray socks than Karen's.
36. Karen was a member in good standing of The Kashe Lake Literary Society. This had nothing to do with books, but was a yearly gathering of neighbourhood friends at our President, Joyce's cottage.
37. The centre of interest was good food, some wine and much merriment.
38. The last meeting was held was held in Harbourville N.S., some years ago.
39. Throughout Karen's life there were more than a few significant challenges.
40. Karen met her challenges with courage and humour.
41. Years ago, Karen was diagnosed with a very rare form of Pancreatic Cancer. She lived a long, rich time after the diagnoses, with much medical intervention.
42. Thankfully, Karen enjoyed almost all things medical.
43. Karen loved dogs. Bandit was a favourite.
45. When my father was dieing, Karen brought her kids home from her cottage for several days so my kids would have kids to play with.
46. Karen was up for almost anything. She kept a container of ladybugs and a praying mantis in her frig, a surprise for my mother, an organic gardener, on Mother's Day. Unfortunately, her kids opened the lid and her frig was filled with hundreds of ladybugs.
47. When I was out and my invalid father did not answer the phone. Not having a key, she sent her smallest boy through the milk door to check on him.
48.She was a great sports fan. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrgoooooooooooooooooes.
49. Most years her kids were in the Santa Clause Parade, an event that meant getting up very, very early.
50. Her young daughter invited the teachers to lunch. In a flurry of faux tidying, her friends helped fill the small room by the back door, from floor to ceiling with stray things, then closed the door. Allison brought the teachers to the back door.
51. Karen loved toys. It wasn't long after the twins were out of diapers, she began putting things away for grandchildren.
52. Karen became a grandma after I left the neighbourhood. I hope she was fully appreciated by her grandchildren.
53. Thanks Karen for leaving so many wonderful memories.
Travelling Mercies.
Tuesday 2 June 2015
First Nations Truth and Reconciliation Report
June 2, 2015 am
It is a time to listen and absorb. The story belongs to all Canadians, and all of us are a part of the story. But, now is the time to listen to the voices of the First Nations people whose lives and living remain bound in ways, that were not theirs and not of their choosing.
Silence was demanded of them. Right now. the least we can do is listen with open hearts. In time, we may be able to find the paths through listening and striving to understand, that can lead us to reconciliation.
The truth is hard to hear. Imagine how much the truth is to bare.
It is a time to listen and absorb. The story belongs to all Canadians, and all of us are a part of the story. But, now is the time to listen to the voices of the First Nations people whose lives and living remain bound in ways, that were not theirs and not of their choosing.
Silence was demanded of them. Right now. the least we can do is listen with open hearts. In time, we may be able to find the paths through listening and striving to understand, that can lead us to reconciliation.
The truth is hard to hear. Imagine how much the truth is to bare.
Tuesday 5 May 2015
Grandma's Rx. Visit to Faraway Grandkids
Somewhere in the mists of time, in the childhood literature of Dick and Jane and The Golden Books, a vision of a Visit from Grandma took form.
Mother dries her hands on her gingham apron as she opens the front door to welcome Grandmother. Grandmother emerges from the taxi, in her best suit with her arms filled with wrapped presents for everyone. The taxi driver carries her leather suitcase. Perhaps there will be a new hand knit sweater for little Susie.
Within moments Grandmother is in the kitchen, wearing an apron over her housedress. Her sensible shoes shine. A perfectly baked apple pie is being lifted from the oven. Father will soon be home from the office carrying the newspaper and his brown briefcase.
I have left the mists of the Bay of Fundy, to find myself, a grandma, visiting in the heart of a very large city. Not surprisingly, the scene has changed a bit.
I do not own a dress, let alone a house dress. I left my Frenchy 's collection of aprons, behind in the attic. I am bearing gifts, with some specially bagged presents for a little birthday girl.
This visit from grandma is stripped of preciousness. The little birthday girl lies languidly on the living room couch, disturbed by intermittent coughing spells. She takes up residence in her mother's room, as I takeover her lower bunk in the room she shares with her sister. My life is inundated with Monster High dolls and unidentified tiny objects.
The Birthday Party with friends is postponed, but the family party takes place. Decorations are limited to May Day flowers and a few party pretties. The "cake mix" cake has been imaginatively decorated by the birthday girl. A grand celebration is had by all.
But the unseen viruses and bacteria begin to expand their territory. The sickee becomes sicker. As her body conquers the invaders, her sister's health begins to wane. This is not a happy situation. Little people like older people are not at their best when sick.
Mummy reluctantly sets off to work. Grandma strives to bring comfort, support and a little fun to the sickees, sometimes with success, sometimes not. Weary momma arrives to a home without a sweet smelling pie baking in the oven, but a credit card waits by the door to take care of supper.
This may sound like a sad story, but it is not. I get to be a real grandma to my faraway grand daughters and get a chance to know them on their own territory, in ways not as possible on summer vacations and Christmas visits. For a short time, I get to be a real grandma. The impossible happens and I find myself loving them even more.
Mother dries her hands on her gingham apron as she opens the front door to welcome Grandmother. Grandmother emerges from the taxi, in her best suit with her arms filled with wrapped presents for everyone. The taxi driver carries her leather suitcase. Perhaps there will be a new hand knit sweater for little Susie.
Within moments Grandmother is in the kitchen, wearing an apron over her housedress. Her sensible shoes shine. A perfectly baked apple pie is being lifted from the oven. Father will soon be home from the office carrying the newspaper and his brown briefcase.
I have left the mists of the Bay of Fundy, to find myself, a grandma, visiting in the heart of a very large city. Not surprisingly, the scene has changed a bit.
I do not own a dress, let alone a house dress. I left my Frenchy 's collection of aprons, behind in the attic. I am bearing gifts, with some specially bagged presents for a little birthday girl.
This visit from grandma is stripped of preciousness. The little birthday girl lies languidly on the living room couch, disturbed by intermittent coughing spells. She takes up residence in her mother's room, as I takeover her lower bunk in the room she shares with her sister. My life is inundated with Monster High dolls and unidentified tiny objects.
The Birthday Party with friends is postponed, but the family party takes place. Decorations are limited to May Day flowers and a few party pretties. The "cake mix" cake has been imaginatively decorated by the birthday girl. A grand celebration is had by all.
But the unseen viruses and bacteria begin to expand their territory. The sickee becomes sicker. As her body conquers the invaders, her sister's health begins to wane. This is not a happy situation. Little people like older people are not at their best when sick.
Mummy reluctantly sets off to work. Grandma strives to bring comfort, support and a little fun to the sickees, sometimes with success, sometimes not. Weary momma arrives to a home without a sweet smelling pie baking in the oven, but a credit card waits by the door to take care of supper.
This may sound like a sad story, but it is not. I get to be a real grandma to my faraway grand daughters and get a chance to know them on their own territory, in ways not as possible on summer vacations and Christmas visits. For a short time, I get to be a real grandma. The impossible happens and I find myself loving them even more.
Friday 6 March 2015
She was so much more than her wonderful laugh. Jeannie
Jeannie 1947-2015
Harbourville, Nova Scotia
1. Jeannie loved lists.
- she liked keeping track of things with lists
- she liked reading lists about everything from
"healthiest foods" to "naughtiest royals"to "favourite baby names 1947"
- the side of her fridge always had a list of what I
owed her or what I had borrowed. This was a
good thing that simplified my life.
- the side of her fridge always had a list of what I
owed her or what I had borrowed. This was a
good thing that simplified my life.
2. Jean was well read and well informed.
- she read and absorbed the world's doings
from a broad spectrum of sources
- her opinions took interesting paths across
the landscape of ideas
- most opinions she held, she held strongly
- she enjoyed pith
3. Jeannie was organized
- she didn't think she was organized but
she was
- she always knew where her drill bits were
- come on, I was the perfect foil to her organizational
skills
4. Jeannie loved asparagus and hated brussel sprouts
- she was daring when tasting new foods
- she was a good cook who loved to cook the fresh foods
from the sea and the valley
- I considered some of her creations, potions
- she committed herself to learn so much about nutrition
- she could ignore the rules of good eating when it suited her
- she was a light drinker but knew how to celebrate on the very
odd occasion
- I was concerned I might encounter highly disliked childhood brewers yeast in her food
Thankfully I didn't.
- my mother ignited her interest in healthy eating
5. She could get royally pissed off and didn't hesitate to let the
world know if she saw unfairness
- if you crossed one of her lines her response was not subtle
- she did not back down easily if she knew she was right
- some topics were off limits her children, her dogs, money, etc
6. Jeannie was very private
- to some it seemed she poured herself out into the world
- she kept many of her beliefs and feelings to herself alone
- she had a great interest in religion but kept most of her
conclusions to herself
- she hated dogma of any sort
- she could be one of the most irreverent people I know
- throughout childhood she was a regular attender of Sunday
School at the local United Church
7. Jeannie could be wonderfully bad
- she took delight in raising a little hell, throughout her life
- she did't put much energy into setting a good example
- what others thought of her didn't matter and also
mattered a lot
- with age she was mastering a skill of swearing
8. Jeannie was not as confident as she appeared
- if she was judged unfairly, it hurt her to the quick
- mad sometimes covered sad.
9. Jeannie loved with a great big heart
- her children were at the centre of her loving universe
................ until her grandchildren came along
- her heart had to grow a few sizes
- there was always great love for her many dogs, who
were an integral part of her life
- the real love for her friends though often publicly displayed,
was really glimpsed in subtle ways
10. Jeannie's favourite colour was not a constant
11. Jeannie hated pretension.
12. Early in her life, Jeannie shopped at Holt Renfrews,
but much preferred shopping and wearing her
clothes from Frenchies
- her favourite outfit was flannelette pyjama bottoms and a sweat shirt
- she could dress like she owned the world and like she didn't
have a penny to her name. she was comfortable in both
- she hated most of the clothes her mother picked out for her
- she wore a great big, old raccoon coat in high school and
usually took up two seats on the streetcar (always giving up
her seat to the elderly, infirm and pregnant as was required in the day)
13. Jeannie hated Friday the Thirteenth. Obviously with just cause
14. Jeannie was not a idealogue. She voted all parties, even though Allisons
by tradition, were always to vote conservative
- she once had a great big NDP sign on her lawn
- she worked on Pierre Trudeau's first exciting campaign
- she would have done almost anything to get Harper out
of office
- her forthrightness and spontaneous honesty would have made her
a disasterous politician, but you have to admit it would have been fun to watch
- she took part in an anti Bush march in Halifax
- she always voted and her vote was informed
15. Jeannie could make great big life decisions in a short time. some good, some notso
16. Jeannie blossomed in her life in Harbourville
- the earliest years here were perhaps the happiest of her life
- in time life lost some of its spark
- she felt trapped by the snow in winter
- she wanted to live nearer a hospital
- she spent too much time in her car
- she planned to move into a house beside her son in the near future
- she wanted to spend more time with her grandson
- she excelled as a grandma
- she was in almost daily contact by Skype with her grandson in
in Vancouver. He recognized her
17. Jeannie travelled often throughout her life
- her last big trip was to Newfoundland with a good friend
- most of her future travelling would have been to visit her grandson
in Vancouver
18. Jeannie was not that interested in sports but
- downhill skied for many years
- was a strong swimmer
- seriously practised yoga
- tried all sorts of exercise and exercise machines
- walked her dogs alone and with others
- she enjoyed charity walks
- she played on a school basketball team
19. Jeannie was very interested in keeping well and respected
both traditional and non traditional medicine
- her cupboards held many potions (my term )
- she had great respect and appreciation for her "body people"
(her daughter's term)
20. Jeannie was usually up for an adventure
- she loved "mystery tours"
- Wharf Rat Rally, strawberry suppers, chicken barbecues, fairs,
flower shows, Oaklawn Farm etc. etc. etc.
21. Jeannie LOVED her dogs
- she owned many throughout her life
- they were true companions
- they were all real characters. Some more than others
- for example, Casey pulled a bottle of wine from the counter,
drank it and got royally drunk.
22. Jeannie was generous with her time and money
- spent time with a Little Sister
- volunteered at the local school
- almost learned to bake squares for local events
- donated generously to practical causes both at home and overseas
23. Jeannie enjoyed art
- volunteered at the Art Gallery of Ontario
- always included galleries in her outings
- knew the lingo but didn't use it
- was not a collector, but enjoyed good art around her
- enjoyed making things, but the experience far outweighed the product
- could come up with hilarus impromptu critiques of some work that caught her eye
24. Jeannie loved music
- was in the St. Clement's Choir but was surprised to find herself in The Kings Chorale
- some of the happiest moments were spent singing with the Kings Chorale
- her tastes were eclectic
- Ricky Nelson was her heart throb
- had tickets to the symphony
- was the first adult I knew who kept up with music videos in the 1970's
26. Jeannie loved children
- she opened up so many windows for the multi handicapped children
she taught for many years at a hospital school
- her expectations for all children were the same
27. Jeannie had many happy memories of camping in Algonquin Park
- she claimed she was a nature girl
- her skills in canoeing, camp craft, camp songs, nature lore and "politically
incorrect Indian stories"began at camp
28. Jeannie had a delicious sense of humour
- she was seldom shocked but it did happen
- her wit was quick
- she often laughed at herself, being well aware of her strengths and weaknesses
- she filled lives with her wonderful laugh
29. Jeannie was definitely one of a kind
* may be continued "for there is no end".
the landscape of ideas
- most opinions she held, she held strongly
- she enjoyed pith
3. Jeannie was organized
- she didn't think she was organized but
she was
- she always knew where her drill bits were
- come on, I was the perfect foil to her organizational
skills
4. Jeannie loved asparagus and hated brussel sprouts
- she was daring when tasting new foods
- she was a good cook who loved to cook the fresh foods
from the sea and the valley
- I considered some of her creations, potions
- she committed herself to learn so much about nutrition
- she could ignore the rules of good eating when it suited her
- she was a light drinker but knew how to celebrate on the very
odd occasion
- I was concerned I might encounter highly disliked childhood brewers yeast in her food
Thankfully I didn't.
- my mother ignited her interest in healthy eating
5. She could get royally pissed off and didn't hesitate to let the
world know if she saw unfairness
- if you crossed one of her lines her response was not subtle
- she did not back down easily if she knew she was right
- some topics were off limits her children, her dogs, money, etc
6. Jeannie was very private
- to some it seemed she poured herself out into the world
- she kept many of her beliefs and feelings to herself alone
- she had a great interest in religion but kept most of her
conclusions to herself
- she hated dogma of any sort
- she could be one of the most irreverent people I know
- throughout childhood she was a regular attender of Sunday
School at the local United Church
7. Jeannie could be wonderfully bad
- she took delight in raising a little hell, throughout her life
- she did't put much energy into setting a good example
- what others thought of her didn't matter and also
mattered a lot
- with age she was mastering a skill of swearing
8. Jeannie was not as confident as she appeared
- if she was judged unfairly, it hurt her to the quick
- mad sometimes covered sad.
9. Jeannie loved with a great big heart
- her children were at the centre of her loving universe
................ until her grandchildren came along
- her heart had to grow a few sizes
- there was always great love for her many dogs, who
were an integral part of her life
- the real love for her friends though often publicly displayed,
was really glimpsed in subtle ways
10. Jeannie's favourite colour was not a constant
11. Jeannie hated pretension.
12. Early in her life, Jeannie shopped at Holt Renfrews,
but much preferred shopping and wearing her
clothes from Frenchies
- her favourite outfit was flannelette pyjama bottoms and a sweat shirt
- she could dress like she owned the world and like she didn't
have a penny to her name. she was comfortable in both
- she hated most of the clothes her mother picked out for her
- she wore a great big, old raccoon coat in high school and
usually took up two seats on the streetcar (always giving up
her seat to the elderly, infirm and pregnant as was required in the day)
13. Jeannie hated Friday the Thirteenth. Obviously with just cause
14. Jeannie was not a idealogue. She voted all parties, even though Allisons
by tradition, were always to vote conservative
- she once had a great big NDP sign on her lawn
- she worked on Pierre Trudeau's first exciting campaign
- she would have done almost anything to get Harper out
of office
- her forthrightness and spontaneous honesty would have made her
a disasterous politician, but you have to admit it would have been fun to watch
- she took part in an anti Bush march in Halifax
- she always voted and her vote was informed
15. Jeannie could make great big life decisions in a short time. some good, some notso
16. Jeannie blossomed in her life in Harbourville
- the earliest years here were perhaps the happiest of her life
- in time life lost some of its spark
- she felt trapped by the snow in winter
- she wanted to live nearer a hospital
- she spent too much time in her car
- she planned to move into a house beside her son in the near future
- she wanted to spend more time with her grandson
- she excelled as a grandma
- she was in almost daily contact by Skype with her grandson in
in Vancouver. He recognized her
17. Jeannie travelled often throughout her life
- her last big trip was to Newfoundland with a good friend
- most of her future travelling would have been to visit her grandson
in Vancouver
18. Jeannie was not that interested in sports but
- downhill skied for many years
- was a strong swimmer
- seriously practised yoga
- tried all sorts of exercise and exercise machines
- walked her dogs alone and with others
- she enjoyed charity walks
- she played on a school basketball team
19. Jeannie was very interested in keeping well and respected
both traditional and non traditional medicine
- her cupboards held many potions (my term )
- she had great respect and appreciation for her "body people"
(her daughter's term)
20. Jeannie was usually up for an adventure
- she loved "mystery tours"
- Wharf Rat Rally, strawberry suppers, chicken barbecues, fairs,
flower shows, Oaklawn Farm etc. etc. etc.
21. Jeannie LOVED her dogs
- she owned many throughout her life
- they were true companions
- they were all real characters. Some more than others
- for example, Casey pulled a bottle of wine from the counter,
drank it and got royally drunk.
22. Jeannie was generous with her time and money
- spent time with a Little Sister
- volunteered at the local school
- almost learned to bake squares for local events
- donated generously to practical causes both at home and overseas
23. Jeannie enjoyed art
- volunteered at the Art Gallery of Ontario
- always included galleries in her outings
- knew the lingo but didn't use it
- was not a collector, but enjoyed good art around her
- enjoyed making things, but the experience far outweighed the product
- could come up with hilarus impromptu critiques of some work that caught her eye
24. Jeannie loved music
- was in the St. Clement's Choir but was surprised to find herself in The Kings Chorale
- some of the happiest moments were spent singing with the Kings Chorale
- her tastes were eclectic
- Ricky Nelson was her heart throb
- had tickets to the symphony
- was the first adult I knew who kept up with music videos in the 1970's
26. Jeannie loved children
- she opened up so many windows for the multi handicapped children
she taught for many years at a hospital school
- her expectations for all children were the same
27. Jeannie had many happy memories of camping in Algonquin Park
- she claimed she was a nature girl
- her skills in canoeing, camp craft, camp songs, nature lore and "politically
incorrect Indian stories"began at camp
28. Jeannie had a delicious sense of humour
- she was seldom shocked but it did happen
- her wit was quick
- she often laughed at herself, being well aware of her strengths and weaknesses
- she filled lives with her wonderful laugh
29. Jeannie was definitely one of a kind
* may be continued "for there is no end".
Friday 30 January 2015
The Day after the Storm
I love big, ferocious snow storms, and I live in just the right place to encounter them. My old farmhouse on a cliff, overlooking the Bay of Fundy, is just the place to be. It has been weathering storms for over a hundred years and will likely weather a few more. I look forward to the new tunes my old house will play, when it becomes a wind instrument.
For the most part, things are generally easy to get storm ready. Flashlights have fresh batteries, tub is filled with water, tea bags are out on the counter and the radio is all set to go, on CBC. Enough wood sits by the wood stove and the cupboards are full.
When it appears a storm is really on the way, I set out for town to pick up a few last things. The town in the valley is unusually busy. My friends and neighbours are the sort that will always want to be well prepared.
My mission is often a trip to pick up milk and dog food. I hate canned milk in my tea. By the look of the liquor store parking lot, many have other priorities. Although toilet paper is always on preparation lists, the crush in the grocery store generally centres around the potato chips.
In town all is abuzz. Here comes the storm. Here comes the storm.
I drive up the Oxbow, on the North Mountain and set off down toward the shore. In the distance, the sky is slowly filling with the foreboding, but beautiful, dark, grey clouds. The sea isn't unusually wild. My old dog, Moses, is now calm when storms are approaching. In his younger days, he would usually get restless, many hours or even days, before a big weather event. Now, I think he looks forward to some good, one on one time, on the couch with me
One of my traits, that I am most comfortable with, is that I am a patient waiter. In a long line, in the bank, I can space out and be one with the universe, as a teller kindly peruses a customer's pictures of a relative's recent wedding. However, when a big storm is on the way, I get a little antsy. "Let the grand show begin."
The holly bush taps on the living room window to let me know it is time to take my seat. I plunk down on the couch, to watch the fire in the wood stove rise with the wind. Before long the sea is roaring and crashing, the windows rattle, the outer door thunks, the barn door slams ( This is not a good thing.), and Moses snores. I am enclosed in a no person band.
When the lights flicker and the frig begins to make odd noises, it is time to light some candles. Candlelight never fails to add a special hush to the music.
In time, I rouse the dog and send him out into what is becoming a blizzard. I let his snowy self in and
we climb the stairs, and plop ourselves down on the woollen blanket laden bed. I crawl under the covers and go to sleep listening to the dulcet tones of the weatherman waxing eloquent about cold and warm fronts, possible sea surges and now the ever elusive vortexes. The house continues humming a lullaby.
In the morning we waken to the sounds of a snow muffled world. I slide into the reality of the post storm world. The driveway is filled with high drifts, some dishes need washing and my usual morning warm bath is an impossibility.
The sea still roars but there are the mundane tasks to attend to.
The electricity eventually returns and a more normal routine begins.
But what was that I just heard on the radio. "A significant snow storm will be arriving tomorrow."
For the most part, things are generally easy to get storm ready. Flashlights have fresh batteries, tub is filled with water, tea bags are out on the counter and the radio is all set to go, on CBC. Enough wood sits by the wood stove and the cupboards are full.
When it appears a storm is really on the way, I set out for town to pick up a few last things. The town in the valley is unusually busy. My friends and neighbours are the sort that will always want to be well prepared.
My mission is often a trip to pick up milk and dog food. I hate canned milk in my tea. By the look of the liquor store parking lot, many have other priorities. Although toilet paper is always on preparation lists, the crush in the grocery store generally centres around the potato chips.
In town all is abuzz. Here comes the storm. Here comes the storm.
I drive up the Oxbow, on the North Mountain and set off down toward the shore. In the distance, the sky is slowly filling with the foreboding, but beautiful, dark, grey clouds. The sea isn't unusually wild. My old dog, Moses, is now calm when storms are approaching. In his younger days, he would usually get restless, many hours or even days, before a big weather event. Now, I think he looks forward to some good, one on one time, on the couch with me
One of my traits, that I am most comfortable with, is that I am a patient waiter. In a long line, in the bank, I can space out and be one with the universe, as a teller kindly peruses a customer's pictures of a relative's recent wedding. However, when a big storm is on the way, I get a little antsy. "Let the grand show begin."
The holly bush taps on the living room window to let me know it is time to take my seat. I plunk down on the couch, to watch the fire in the wood stove rise with the wind. Before long the sea is roaring and crashing, the windows rattle, the outer door thunks, the barn door slams ( This is not a good thing.), and Moses snores. I am enclosed in a no person band.
When the lights flicker and the frig begins to make odd noises, it is time to light some candles. Candlelight never fails to add a special hush to the music.
In time, I rouse the dog and send him out into what is becoming a blizzard. I let his snowy self in and
we climb the stairs, and plop ourselves down on the woollen blanket laden bed. I crawl under the covers and go to sleep listening to the dulcet tones of the weatherman waxing eloquent about cold and warm fronts, possible sea surges and now the ever elusive vortexes. The house continues humming a lullaby.
In the morning we waken to the sounds of a snow muffled world. I slide into the reality of the post storm world. The driveway is filled with high drifts, some dishes need washing and my usual morning warm bath is an impossibility.
The sea still roars but there are the mundane tasks to attend to.
The electricity eventually returns and a more normal routine begins.
But what was that I just heard on the radio. "A significant snow storm will be arriving tomorrow."
Wednesday 14 January 2015
Let's sing Odes to Joy
Despite the lively flames dancing together in my wood stove, and the sunlight casting curious shadows on the snow puffs, resting on the holly leaves, outside my living room window, it is impossible not to feel the sorrow in this old world of ours.
Sometimes, I think joy slips more easily into hearts that have been cracked open. Somehow, I have miraculously retained the joy of childhood.
Even in darkness, a moment of joy often lights up my universe.
When I hear a sweet voice of one of my grandchildren on the phone, or even better, get to read a familiar story to a little one on my knee, I am held in joy.
Joy is not a sweet Christmas tree ornament of a word, but a powerful emotion that sustains life and enriches living. A moment of delight lasting a lifetime.
As a baby, I was held in joy as my mother, with her beautiful voice, recited her favourite childhood poems to me, as she rocked me in an old familiar chair. This is a place from where goodness grew.
My first memory of an outside joy, brought a specialness of a colour into my life. I was just three or four, when I went to my first ballet with my parents. I was perched up atop several gentlemen's winter coats, so that I could see over the seat in front of me. It was late at night, I was in an unfamiliarly grand hall, and the Bolshoi Ballet were dancing Sleeping Beauty. I was taken into a dream and joy was there. Every so often I come upon a unique tone of soft blue and am with those dancers soaring in the air, whose beauty still holds joy.
Around the globe, art, especially music, brings joy to hearts and lives of suffering and brokenness. For the most part it is not high art.
Joy does not come at our bidding, but we can help create welcoming places.
Community singing is an act of joy, when singing comes from open hearts, joy flows in and joy flows out enriching lives, enriching the community.
When I first joined a small choir, some time ago, I sat near a mother and her two grown daughters. Both daughters were strong singers, whose voices lifted up their mother's voice, when she sat between them. Sadly, they are no longer there. I remember the merry singing, but what I remember most is the joy that they shared, giving each other a hard time throughout the rehearsals, that flowed into their singing.
Joy is not found in rules. Let's sing odes of joy.
Tuesday 13 January 2015
This Summer, Now on to Next
This summer
my garden got off to a good start and before too long became a vegetative entanglement.
everything seemed to break - dishwasher, dryer, clothesline, car wheel, bed, front screen, barn door,
radio, alarm clock, bathtub faucet, cellar door, wood stove, cellar window. some of these issues
have been addressed, some haven't.
won $450. worth of lobster in a Lion's Club Draw.
took the cash and put it towards a very efficient wood stove, although I had dreams of one big
shore party.
my wood, ordered in May, didn't arrive until late October.
friends and family helped (well realistically) stacked the wood very interestingly using the
a creative method. beehive shaped stacks of wood are works of art and dry wood effectively.
discovered that having a bum knee is not only painful, but socially limiting.
went to a boat launch where the boat didn't launch. a good time was had by all.
was so happy to experience the little white church on the cliff (1860) transform to take on the
extracurricular responsibilities of Saturday morning local market, local art centre, community
gathering spot and hub of creative renovation.
watch neighbourhood child sprout.
missed the fresh tomatoes that weren't, thanks to the unwelcome visit of Hurricane Arthur.
didn't paint the front porch especially the bright pink floor and front stairs
The summer that will be is beckoning to me already. For christmas I received a wonderful gift, from my daughter. My lawn will be mowed by someone who isn't me. The porch floor and steps will get painted this summer.
my garden got off to a good start and before too long became a vegetative entanglement.
everything seemed to break - dishwasher, dryer, clothesline, car wheel, bed, front screen, barn door,
radio, alarm clock, bathtub faucet, cellar door, wood stove, cellar window. some of these issues
have been addressed, some haven't.
won $450. worth of lobster in a Lion's Club Draw.
took the cash and put it towards a very efficient wood stove, although I had dreams of one big
shore party.
my wood, ordered in May, didn't arrive until late October.
friends and family helped (well realistically) stacked the wood very interestingly using the
a creative method. beehive shaped stacks of wood are works of art and dry wood effectively.
discovered that having a bum knee is not only painful, but socially limiting.
went to a boat launch where the boat didn't launch. a good time was had by all.
was so happy to experience the little white church on the cliff (1860) transform to take on the
extracurricular responsibilities of Saturday morning local market, local art centre, community
gathering spot and hub of creative renovation.
watch neighbourhood child sprout.
missed the fresh tomatoes that weren't, thanks to the unwelcome visit of Hurricane Arthur.
didn't paint the front porch especially the bright pink floor and front stairs
The summer that will be is beckoning to me already. For christmas I received a wonderful gift, from my daughter. My lawn will be mowed by someone who isn't me. The porch floor and steps will get painted this summer.
Thursday 1 January 2015
A Toast to Christmas Present
A toast to Christmas Present. I raise my glass.
The older I get the more simple and complicated Christmas seems to be. This year is no different, and oh so different.
Those I love most celebrated Christmas together in Toronto, this year. My younger daughter, her husband and my three year old grandson flew from The East Coast to join my older daughter and my two granddaughters to experience a new Christmas. The adventure began with much generosity of spirit.
Knowing I was very welcome to join in the festivities, I chose to stay in this old house on the cliff to be with them from afar. I have so much faith in the generation that follows me to celebrate well and I also know my proclivity to drop "bits of wisdom" unsolicited, into conversations, I didn't want to add to the joyous chaos
Facebook was alive with their activities. I observed a perfect holiday, knowing such a thing does not exist. Christmas is a time of grand excitement relieved by the odd, mandatory meltdown. I was spared the wrinkles in so much merriment.
Towards the end of the visit my daughter from Halifax developed an impressive case of strep throat, but made it onto the plane, visited a clinic and arrived home to sleep for eighteen hours.
It is hard to explain how important it is to me that my daughters love each others company. I come from a large extended family that through time has dwindled. My generation did not go forth and multiply.
My aunt Barbara and my mother, Myra, seldom if ever went more than a few days without being in touch with the other. They were both creative human beings in unique ways, and perhaps had a sprinkling of the magic of pixelated sisters. From childhood into adulthood, there was endless, though sometimes sadly interrupted, family fun while they both lived. The cottage life on Lake Simcoe, was always a refreshing break from the harder realities of the outside world. At times it is hard to believe that such a time and place ever existed.
Sixty-five years ago today, on New Year's Day, my seven year old sister died at home of a now curable form of childhood cancer. There has been too much projecting the of that sweet, young life into the future, but there has always been a warm safe place for her in my heart. It is impossible to wipe all the possibilities away.
Knowing my daughters are close and that my son in law and grandchildren were part of the joyous mix, brings warmth to my life and tears to my eyes.
A toast to Christmas present and New Year wishes for all that is good in 2015. I raise my glass
The older I get the more simple and complicated Christmas seems to be. This year is no different, and oh so different.
Those I love most celebrated Christmas together in Toronto, this year. My younger daughter, her husband and my three year old grandson flew from The East Coast to join my older daughter and my two granddaughters to experience a new Christmas. The adventure began with much generosity of spirit.
Knowing I was very welcome to join in the festivities, I chose to stay in this old house on the cliff to be with them from afar. I have so much faith in the generation that follows me to celebrate well and I also know my proclivity to drop "bits of wisdom" unsolicited, into conversations, I didn't want to add to the joyous chaos
Facebook was alive with their activities. I observed a perfect holiday, knowing such a thing does not exist. Christmas is a time of grand excitement relieved by the odd, mandatory meltdown. I was spared the wrinkles in so much merriment.
Towards the end of the visit my daughter from Halifax developed an impressive case of strep throat, but made it onto the plane, visited a clinic and arrived home to sleep for eighteen hours.
It is hard to explain how important it is to me that my daughters love each others company. I come from a large extended family that through time has dwindled. My generation did not go forth and multiply.
My aunt Barbara and my mother, Myra, seldom if ever went more than a few days without being in touch with the other. They were both creative human beings in unique ways, and perhaps had a sprinkling of the magic of pixelated sisters. From childhood into adulthood, there was endless, though sometimes sadly interrupted, family fun while they both lived. The cottage life on Lake Simcoe, was always a refreshing break from the harder realities of the outside world. At times it is hard to believe that such a time and place ever existed.
Sixty-five years ago today, on New Year's Day, my seven year old sister died at home of a now curable form of childhood cancer. There has been too much projecting the of that sweet, young life into the future, but there has always been a warm safe place for her in my heart. It is impossible to wipe all the possibilities away.
Knowing my daughters are close and that my son in law and grandchildren were part of the joyous mix, brings warmth to my life and tears to my eyes.
A toast to Christmas present and New Year wishes for all that is good in 2015. I raise my glass
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