A few days ago I was talking with Michele about a favourite meal. We both like to cook and enjoy trying new flavours and foods so it was a little hard to know just what would be my favourite.
I think for me that it doesn't really matter what is actually cooked. I just love anything that someone else cooks for me, as long as it's from scratch. It can be as simple as meat, veggies and potatoes.
For a few years, when our kids were playing a lot of sports, I would often be the parent who spent Saturdays in the gym, watching the tournaments while Wes would be at home, "holding down the fort" as it were. Frequently, especially when our team was doing well, we wouldn't be finished playing until late afternoon or even early evening. On our way home, we would be hungry and tired and when we walked in the house, supper would be cooked, the table would be set and there might even be a glass of wine by my plate. Those were the best dinners for me.
There was another time when Wes, Rob, Michele and I went to an out of town funeral. Yvonne and George had not yet moved to Winnipeg but they were visiting. When we got home from the funeral, around 7:30 PM, Yvonne had prepared a delicious, lovely, tasty meal for us. All I remember is that she made an amazing chef's salad. I don't remember anything else. It was such a wonderful thing to come home to after an emotionally draining day. It also happened to be my birthday that day and so the gift of the meal was doubly special.
I'd like to encourage all my blogger friends (and even you lurkers) to tell me about your favourite meal. It could be one that you've already had or maybe you have an idea of "the perfect meal" and you can blog about what that looks and tastes like.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
Happy Birthday Eric!
Wow. Michele already posted about Eric's birthday so I better get going here.
Eric is 23 years old today. It's interesting when I look at him and all my children. I see the young man that he is but I also see the baby, toddler, adolescent and teen, all in the same package. It's hard for me to exactly describe what I see in my children. There is a love that is different for them than for anyone else; there is a sense of awe that these are really my offspring and, how did it happen that I have 4 adult children? I still feel like a kid myself!
Last year I posted for his birthday and in some ways, not much has changed except for a few things. He has a new car. He's in his final year of college. He's still living with Justin and Nicole. He still plays electric guitar, acoustic guitar and mandolin but even better than last year. He and Thomas made some amazing potato guns this spring.
And there are lots of things that I don't know about him too. That's a good thing. A mother really doesn't want to know everything about her kids. I prefer to be in denial.
Eric's always been really good with younger children. He has been part of our Children's Community at the church for a long time and I think kids know that when he hangs out with them, he's having as good a time as they are. He's playing with Aslan's Child again this year and is really excited about that.
Tonight, we'll be having a dessert party around 7:30 for Eric. If you're in the neighbourhood, or even if you're not, take a trip down to our place to wish him a Happy Birthday! I'll leave you with a few pictures.
Eric is 23 years old today. It's interesting when I look at him and all my children. I see the young man that he is but I also see the baby, toddler, adolescent and teen, all in the same package. It's hard for me to exactly describe what I see in my children. There is a love that is different for them than for anyone else; there is a sense of awe that these are really my offspring and, how did it happen that I have 4 adult children? I still feel like a kid myself!
Last year I posted for his birthday and in some ways, not much has changed except for a few things. He has a new car. He's in his final year of college. He's still living with Justin and Nicole. He still plays electric guitar, acoustic guitar and mandolin but even better than last year. He and Thomas made some amazing potato guns this spring.
And there are lots of things that I don't know about him too. That's a good thing. A mother really doesn't want to know everything about her kids. I prefer to be in denial.
Eric's always been really good with younger children. He has been part of our Children's Community at the church for a long time and I think kids know that when he hangs out with them, he's having as good a time as they are. He's playing with Aslan's Child again this year and is really excited about that.
Tonight, we'll be having a dessert party around 7:30 for Eric. If you're in the neighbourhood, or even if you're not, take a trip down to our place to wish him a Happy Birthday! I'll leave you with a few pictures.
Don't ya just want to eat him up?
This is when Eric got really cool. Notice the amazing belt buckle he is wearing.
Last Christmas, Eric was thrilled to receive this cookbook. A man who enjoys cooking is a pleasure to have around.Thursday, November 09, 2006
Taking Some Time to Thank Someone
About 7 years ago we had to sell our cute little 5 speed Honda and the truck we owned. It's a long story that I won't go into but our income was cut in half overnight and we had to make some big adjustments. We ended up with a 10 year old Cutlass Cierra (the good car) that Wes drove and a 15 year old Toyota (my car).
I liked the Toyota but after owning it for a few months, we had to replace the engine as well as deal with several other expensive repairs. Once we had a new engine, the car was great and I really enjoyed driving it.
About 2 weeks after all the work was done, I was heading to church on a Sunday morning when someone rear-ended me at a stop light. He was going very fast and actually pushed my car across 3 lanes of traffic. I remember calmly looking at the cars coming towards me and thinking, "So, this is how it's going to end." I was not so calm when I stepped out of the car and started yelling at the idiot who did this to me. (Note to Michele: I think this was a time when you'd agree that yelling was an acceptable response.)
Obviously it didn't end because I'm still here. Surprisingly (miraculously) I didn't even have any whiplash, nor did Kristen or her little friend who were in the back seat.
No, what I was worried most about was how I was going to replace this car. Money was very scarce for us at the time and I had heard of so many bad stories about MPI (Manitoba Public Insurance) that I was certain that I would not get enough money from them to purchase another vehicle.
When I met with the insurance adjuster, I brought along all of the car repair receipts and told him that I felt the car was worth $5,000.00. He took the receipts and told me that he'd call me in a few days.
Sure enough, he called me in a few days and told me that I would get $5,ooo.00. I was ecstatic, never expecting that I would get exactly what I had hoped for. The adjuster was a compassionate man and my experience was so positive that I wrote a thank you note to him.
One day there was a message on our voice mail from the adjuster. He called to thank me for the thank you note. He actually gushed a little. I don't think insurance adjusters get many thank you notes. They get mostly criticism (at times, well deserved). But this time, I was treated so well and received a fair price for my car, I thought that a thank you card was in order. I'll bet he still has that card stuck on his bulletin board at work.
The point of this story? I think that a thank you note is such a small little thing but it can make someone's day. Especially someone who seldom gets positive feedback from the people he deals with. And writing these kinds of notes gives me a good feeling too, a feeling that I am somehow passing on a small bit of kindness to someone who needs it.
I liked the Toyota but after owning it for a few months, we had to replace the engine as well as deal with several other expensive repairs. Once we had a new engine, the car was great and I really enjoyed driving it.
About 2 weeks after all the work was done, I was heading to church on a Sunday morning when someone rear-ended me at a stop light. He was going very fast and actually pushed my car across 3 lanes of traffic. I remember calmly looking at the cars coming towards me and thinking, "So, this is how it's going to end." I was not so calm when I stepped out of the car and started yelling at the idiot who did this to me. (Note to Michele: I think this was a time when you'd agree that yelling was an acceptable response.)
Obviously it didn't end because I'm still here. Surprisingly (miraculously) I didn't even have any whiplash, nor did Kristen or her little friend who were in the back seat.
No, what I was worried most about was how I was going to replace this car. Money was very scarce for us at the time and I had heard of so many bad stories about MPI (Manitoba Public Insurance) that I was certain that I would not get enough money from them to purchase another vehicle.
When I met with the insurance adjuster, I brought along all of the car repair receipts and told him that I felt the car was worth $5,000.00. He took the receipts and told me that he'd call me in a few days.
Sure enough, he called me in a few days and told me that I would get $5,ooo.00. I was ecstatic, never expecting that I would get exactly what I had hoped for. The adjuster was a compassionate man and my experience was so positive that I wrote a thank you note to him.
One day there was a message on our voice mail from the adjuster. He called to thank me for the thank you note. He actually gushed a little. I don't think insurance adjusters get many thank you notes. They get mostly criticism (at times, well deserved). But this time, I was treated so well and received a fair price for my car, I thought that a thank you card was in order. I'll bet he still has that card stuck on his bulletin board at work.
The point of this story? I think that a thank you note is such a small little thing but it can make someone's day. Especially someone who seldom gets positive feedback from the people he deals with. And writing these kinds of notes gives me a good feeling too, a feeling that I am somehow passing on a small bit of kindness to someone who needs it.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Yvonne's New Job
Blogging every day can be a challenge! Today, because nothing much exciting happens in my life, I will blog on behalf of my dear sister, Yvonne. She says every now and then that she should start a blog but has never started one. She is what we bloggers call, "a lurker." She reads a number of blogs regularly.
"Yesterday, I started a brand new job.
It was amazing how it all worked out. I was talking with a friend at church who was sharing how the receptionist in her husband's dental office quit, the day after she had finished all of her free dental work. I think that they were feeling used. Linda was saying that they wanted someone responsible and reliable and would I like to work for them?
I gave it some thought, talked to my husband George, kids and my sisters and went for an interview on Friday, November 3. Monday (yesterday) I started my training.
I have never done anything like this before. I have worked in retail for many years at quilt shops and was a favourite teacher at quilting classes*. As a matter of fact, I'm a very gifted quilter.* But I'm pretty smart* and learn things quickly*. I am also very responsible and reliable*.
This is a full-time position for me and I'm looking forward to it. The benefits are great and I will get every other Monday off so that I can still go to Winnipeg Harvest to prepare lunch with my sisters, Linda and Michele. One thing that sucks is that I will not see my sisters as much during the week and Linda will have to haul her butt to the gym on her own.
Last weekend, I cooked 5 meals, baked cookies, a dessert and bought some work clothes. Of the 3 sisters, I am the most organized one* so I think, with some help from my family, this new job will work out really well. And Brad and Linda will be great people to work for."
A great* picture of Yvonne and George. (Yvonne's on the right)
*Because this is MY (Linda's) blog I can include what I want. Yvonne is much too humble to say these things herself.
Monday, November 06, 2006
November 6
Gotta post today. As Dale so kindly reminded me, I did not post last Friday but he (and others) may not have noticed that I posted TWICE on Saturday which makes up for the lack of Friday post. Harrumph.
The house is pretty quiet now except for the sound of the dishwasher and Tim playing his guitar. Pleasant sounds after a busy day. I don't have a lot of energy now and there's laundry that has to be folded but here are a few thoughts flitting through my mind right now.
The house is pretty quiet now except for the sound of the dishwasher and Tim playing his guitar. Pleasant sounds after a busy day. I don't have a lot of energy now and there's laundry that has to be folded but here are a few thoughts flitting through my mind right now.
- I'm sorry the Bombers lost yesterday. It would have been so cool to have the home team playing at the Grey Cup.
- We had Monday night dinner here today. Have I mentioned how much I love Monday nights? The whole, extended family comes here for dinner and even the girlfriends and boyfriends are great.
- Kim performed a couple of songs for us tonight. Beautiful.
- Michele and I volunteered at Winnipeg Harvest today. Yvonne usually does too but she just started a new job and wasn't able to come. I love the people at Winnipeg Harvest. I worked there for about 4 years and a couple of days after I quit the kids said that I didn't have any good stories to tell them at the supper table anymore. At Winnipeg Harvest there was always something bizzare, odd, hilarious or gross happening. Every day.
- We now have 2 international students living with us. Medardo is from Mexico and Nik is from Germany. I was afraid having 2 would seem a little overwhelming but I actually really like it. They get along and they are both great guys. I'm enjoying having them around.
- The weather today was warm (for November) cloudy and a little rainy. It reminded me of winter days in S. Ontario, where I grew up. Give me a cold, sunny day anytime.
That's all folks. Nothing too exciting happening here but life is good.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Church
I love my church community. Sunday mornings I often can't wait to get there to see what our musicians will sing, what our pastor (my BIL) will say and what other interesting and creative things the Service Planning and Implementation team has added.
The building is nothing to look at except for the amazing mural we have painted on the side of it. It has no steeple, pews or organ and the carpet is so stained, it's starting to get to me. It's kind of cluttered and the walls have scuff marks and scratches from the wheelchairs. The kitchen needs a lot of work. And it seems to me that on many Sundays, I end up with a broken chair. Sometimes, I dream about a beautifully decorated building with new chairs, new carpeting and a new kitchen.
But then I remember the church that I used to attend and the day that all the children (only the kids mind you) were told to remove their muddy footwear because they would dirty the carpet. And the feeling I would get when I walked into the place and wasn't sure if I was allowed to sit on the couch.
Give me a dirty carpet any day. Give me a place where kids are allowed to run and play; a place where the participants of Community Venture (a Salvation army program for mentally and physically challenged adults) can play floor hockey; a place where an amazing costume party can be held on Saturday, followed by an inspiring service on Sunday.
I love the people including John, the old bachelor who doesn't usually smell too fresh, the family from Nigaragua who can barely speak English, the pastor's wife (my dear sister) who doesn't look or act like a pastor's wife but is one of the most spiritual, honest and funny people I know. I love my blogger friends (you know who you are) and all the broken people who make up our motley crew of people. Some are long time born again Christians, some are brand new Christians and some (quite a few actually) aren't really sure where they stand on the God and Jesus thing. They only know that they like what happens in our building and want more of it.
More than anything, we encourage people to ask questions and to wonder about God and spirituality. We don't try to fit them into any kind of a mold or force them to dress or act in a certain way. We don't tell them that once they become a Christian all their problems disappear. Most of us have experienced too much disappointment, loss and pain to believe that for a second.
What we try to do is to laugh with each other, cry with each other and support one another in any way we can. And in doing so, we reflect the incredible love that God has for everyone of us.
We are far from perfect. There is a lot that we don't do well but there are enough things that are good about this place that keep me coming back. Never does a Sunday go by where I don't learn something about God or myself.
It is a place where I experience life, love, community, joy and peace. A place where Jesus is becoming more and more real to me.
A place where I belong.
The building is nothing to look at except for the amazing mural we have painted on the side of it. It has no steeple, pews or organ and the carpet is so stained, it's starting to get to me. It's kind of cluttered and the walls have scuff marks and scratches from the wheelchairs. The kitchen needs a lot of work. And it seems to me that on many Sundays, I end up with a broken chair. Sometimes, I dream about a beautifully decorated building with new chairs, new carpeting and a new kitchen.
But then I remember the church that I used to attend and the day that all the children (only the kids mind you) were told to remove their muddy footwear because they would dirty the carpet. And the feeling I would get when I walked into the place and wasn't sure if I was allowed to sit on the couch.
Give me a dirty carpet any day. Give me a place where kids are allowed to run and play; a place where the participants of Community Venture (a Salvation army program for mentally and physically challenged adults) can play floor hockey; a place where an amazing costume party can be held on Saturday, followed by an inspiring service on Sunday.
I love the people including John, the old bachelor who doesn't usually smell too fresh, the family from Nigaragua who can barely speak English, the pastor's wife (my dear sister) who doesn't look or act like a pastor's wife but is one of the most spiritual, honest and funny people I know. I love my blogger friends (you know who you are) and all the broken people who make up our motley crew of people. Some are long time born again Christians, some are brand new Christians and some (quite a few actually) aren't really sure where they stand on the God and Jesus thing. They only know that they like what happens in our building and want more of it.
More than anything, we encourage people to ask questions and to wonder about God and spirituality. We don't try to fit them into any kind of a mold or force them to dress or act in a certain way. We don't tell them that once they become a Christian all their problems disappear. Most of us have experienced too much disappointment, loss and pain to believe that for a second.
What we try to do is to laugh with each other, cry with each other and support one another in any way we can. And in doing so, we reflect the incredible love that God has for everyone of us.
We are far from perfect. There is a lot that we don't do well but there are enough things that are good about this place that keep me coming back. Never does a Sunday go by where I don't learn something about God or myself.
It is a place where I experience life, love, community, joy and peace. A place where Jesus is becoming more and more real to me.
A place where I belong.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
New Boots
Yesterday, I left my new boots by the back door and when Tim, my 19 year old son came in and saw them, he said, "I see Kristen bought a new pair of boots."
I am one cool mom, wouldn't you say?
I am one cool mom, wouldn't you say?
Back in Canada
Most times, when I am in a strange city, I'm with Wes and he does the driving. He doesn't mind and I'm just as happy to sit in the passenger seat and keep my eyes open for whatever it is we're looking for.
This last trip in Fargo, I did all the driving. Kristen, like me was happy to let me do the driving and she just watched for street signs and such. Most of our driving was good and I was feeling comfortable in this city. It helps that the laws, signs and traffic are much the same in the US as in Canada. We did have a moment though where I was afraid that we might not make it home without a serious mishap.
We were looking for a restaurant for supper and when we saw it, I went into the left lane to get into the parking lot. Once I got there however, I realized that this was not the right entrance and I had to go to the next opening in the boulevard.
So I kept driving. Everything seemed okay until I noticed the left turn sign, painted on the road was upside down and pointing in the opposite direction that it should have been. And while the boulevard was on my left earlier, it was now on my right.
Have you ever had a moment where the truth of what was happening to you dawned on you very slowly and suddenly you realized you were in a very vulnerable position with no way of getting out? That's what happened to me. I was in the left turn lane alright but it was the lane for oncoming traffic. Cars that had to turn left were coming towards me and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do. I calmly said to Kristen that I thought I was in the wrong lane and WHAT SHOULD I DO? I CAN'T MOVE BECAUSE ALL THE CARS ARE COMING TOWARDS ME AND I SHOULD TURN THE THING ON!
Without missing a beat, Kristen turned on the hazard lights. (It's a good thing she understood what I was trying to say.) She remained very calm, a character trait that reminds me of her dad. I think she even told me to relax or something but I was too busy being hysterical to rememeber what exactly she said.
We stayed there, in the wrong lane for what seemed like a long time, but in reality was probably only 15 seconds and when there was a break in traffic, I did a quick U-turn. Whew.
And that was enough excitement for that day.
This last trip in Fargo, I did all the driving. Kristen, like me was happy to let me do the driving and she just watched for street signs and such. Most of our driving was good and I was feeling comfortable in this city. It helps that the laws, signs and traffic are much the same in the US as in Canada. We did have a moment though where I was afraid that we might not make it home without a serious mishap.
We were looking for a restaurant for supper and when we saw it, I went into the left lane to get into the parking lot. Once I got there however, I realized that this was not the right entrance and I had to go to the next opening in the boulevard.
So I kept driving. Everything seemed okay until I noticed the left turn sign, painted on the road was upside down and pointing in the opposite direction that it should have been. And while the boulevard was on my left earlier, it was now on my right.
Have you ever had a moment where the truth of what was happening to you dawned on you very slowly and suddenly you realized you were in a very vulnerable position with no way of getting out? That's what happened to me. I was in the left turn lane alright but it was the lane for oncoming traffic. Cars that had to turn left were coming towards me and there was nothing, absolutely nothing I could do. I calmly said to Kristen that I thought I was in the wrong lane and WHAT SHOULD I DO? I CAN'T MOVE BECAUSE ALL THE CARS ARE COMING TOWARDS ME AND I SHOULD TURN THE THING ON!
Without missing a beat, Kristen turned on the hazard lights. (It's a good thing she understood what I was trying to say.) She remained very calm, a character trait that reminds me of her dad. I think she even told me to relax or something but I was too busy being hysterical to rememeber what exactly she said.
We stayed there, in the wrong lane for what seemed like a long time, but in reality was probably only 15 seconds and when there was a break in traffic, I did a quick U-turn. Whew.
And that was enough excitement for that day.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
November 2
Today, we shopped till we dropped.
As you can see, there were quite a few purchases that Kristen and I made. I'm afraid we'll be over the $250.00 per person that we are allowed tax free. Hopefully we'll have a friendly customs officer who will wave us through. I got a pair of boots and a coat, 2 things that I was hoping to buy. Kristen got some jeans, a cute pair of shoes and some work pants. Both of us were able to purchase the things that we had hoped to get so it has been a pretty successful shopping trip thus far.
A few more things we've noticed about North Dakota:
- Kristen noticed that the guys who work at Abercrombie and Fitch are generally quite hot.
- I discovered a store that I love. Coldwater Creek . Too bad it's not in Canada.
- We saw very few visible minorities. Almost everyone we saw was caucasian.
- In Canada, when you are carrying clothing that you'd like to try on, a salesperson will take it off your hands and start you a change room. They don't do that here. You carry all the clothes you want to try on and take them to a fitting room yourself.
- When it comes right down to it, West Acres Mall is not all that different from any mall in Canada.
That's all for now folks. I think we'll visit Abercrombie and Fitch again either tonight or tomorrow.
Just to look.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Happy Hallowe'en
Hello. My name is Linda and I hate hallowe'en.
That's right. I hate it. My creativity does not extend to making costumes out of popsicle sticks and cotton balls and everytime October 31 came around, I was reminded of my inadequacies. My procrastination would find me going nuts in the morning of the 31st, trying to find something that would fit over a snowsuit in case of cold weather or not, in case of warm.
And the candy. How can a candy addict possibly hand out candy to children and not eat at least half of it? My stomach would be aching and my tongue would be hurting from all the sugar.
I am so glad that I don't have to deal with any of that anymore. Last year only very few children came by our house so yesterday, for the first time in my life, I did what all the grouches do. I turned out the lights and pretended I wasn't home. I know. I'm an ogre. Too bad. I hate hallowe'en.
I was also a lazy mom. Allowing them only 2 treats per day as the "experts" recommend seemed to require far too much time and effort on my part, so, I allowed them candy eating periods. They were allowed as much candy as they could eat in 15 or 20 minutes. This way, all the candy was gone within a week. Hallowe'en was quickly forgotten.
I really admire all the people who can enjoy this holiday. Many of you enjoy the challenge of creating a unique and inexpensive costume. You have a creative bent that I can only dream of. But now, as I am dealing with an impending empty nest and the hard things that come with it, I know that hallowe'en is one thing that I never have to sweat about again.
So there.
That's right. I hate it. My creativity does not extend to making costumes out of popsicle sticks and cotton balls and everytime October 31 came around, I was reminded of my inadequacies. My procrastination would find me going nuts in the morning of the 31st, trying to find something that would fit over a snowsuit in case of cold weather or not, in case of warm.
And the candy. How can a candy addict possibly hand out candy to children and not eat at least half of it? My stomach would be aching and my tongue would be hurting from all the sugar.
I am so glad that I don't have to deal with any of that anymore. Last year only very few children came by our house so yesterday, for the first time in my life, I did what all the grouches do. I turned out the lights and pretended I wasn't home. I know. I'm an ogre. Too bad. I hate hallowe'en.
I was also a lazy mom. Allowing them only 2 treats per day as the "experts" recommend seemed to require far too much time and effort on my part, so, I allowed them candy eating periods. They were allowed as much candy as they could eat in 15 or 20 minutes. This way, all the candy was gone within a week. Hallowe'en was quickly forgotten.
I really admire all the people who can enjoy this holiday. Many of you enjoy the challenge of creating a unique and inexpensive costume. You have a creative bent that I can only dream of. But now, as I am dealing with an impending empty nest and the hard things that come with it, I know that hallowe'en is one thing that I never have to sweat about again.
So there.
November 1
This month is NaBloPoMo month and like ccap, I will attempt to post every day. There is a good chance that you'll get bored because interesting things don't usually happen in my life daily. I will try to keep most of these posts short.
Today, I am writing from the Best Western Hotel in Fargo, ND. I am not in the habit of cross-border shopping but for Kristen's 18th birthday we thought it would be fun to have a "girl's" outing. We did a bit of shopping this evening and will shop till we drop tomorrow. Friday morning we'll be heading back to Winnipeg.
Things that I have noticed so far:
Today, I am writing from the Best Western Hotel in Fargo, ND. I am not in the habit of cross-border shopping but for Kristen's 18th birthday we thought it would be fun to have a "girl's" outing. We did a bit of shopping this evening and will shop till we drop tomorrow. Friday morning we'll be heading back to Winnipeg.
Things that I have noticed so far:
- North Dakotans are generally a very friendly bunch.
- Male salespeople welcome both of us into their stores but they look at Kristen, not me.
- The roads in the US are much better than the roads in Canada. But I always remind myself that if we didn't have public health care, the government would have more money for roads.
- There was almost no snow south of Grand Forks.
- The lattes at Starbucks taste the same.
- Alcohol is a lot cheaper here! (hic)
That's all for now folks. Good night.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Happy Birthday Kristen!
Kristen turned 18 today. My youngest child is now 18-able to vote, drink and make her own decisions without my consent. I am glad that she has made and is making wise decisions these days so I don't really need to worry. Still, as a mom, I do.Although she was born on October 31, her due date was October 14. She was 18 days overdue. Eighteen looooooooong days overdue. On October 28, I went to the hospital to be induced. I was put on the drip and after 7 hours, nothing was happening so I was sent home. That was depressing. A few days later I was induced again and thankfully, after a rather intense 4 hours, she was born.
Kristen and I have had some tough times but I think the worst of those times are over. We've both grown, changed and compromised and that makes for a much more harmonious relationship. Her health is still very good and we are so grateful for that.
So, happy birthday Kristen! I love you.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Sammy's bad hair day
In my last Thursday Thirteen, I mentioned that I bought a dog grooming kit for Sammy. We used it yesterday with some success. The dog looks like he's got a bad haircut. Sammy was pretty obedient but he did not enjoy the process. Neither did Wes nor I. By the end of the evening we had all inhaled enough dog hair for a lifetime and were covered in dog hair. We needed a shower, our clothes had to be washed and we could not stop sneezing.
We are giving the grooming kit away.
We are giving the grooming kit away.
Before.
After. (Notice how one ear is longer than the other. I must admit that this is one bad haircut!)
Saturday, October 21, 2006
The Second Time Ben Kept Me Up All Night
In my previous post, I wrote that Ben has kept me up all night long only twice in my life. The first time was the day of his birth-my water broke around midnight and he was born sometime between 6 and 8 in the morning.
The second time he kept me up all night was when he was 18 years old. At this time Ben had been going out with friends and staying out till midnight or so for at least a year. Most of the time, I'd stay awake until I heard him come home but sometimes, I'd fall asleep before that. Generally, I'd wake up at some point in the night and if I hadn't heard him, I'd just go downstairs and see if his shoes were by the back door. It was a good system. I didn't have to go into his room and wake him up if he was asleep and I could go back to sleep knowing he was safely in bed.
One particular night I had fallen asleep early and sure enough, it was around 1:00 AM when I woke up and hadn't heard him come home. I went downstairs to look for his shoes but they weren't there. I was a little annoyed because it was past his curfew. I was wide awake by this time and decided to stay in the living room and wait for his arrival. I made a cup of tea and began reading my book but by 2:00 I could no longer concentrate. I began to worry. Then, I began to pace. By 3:00 AM I was trying to tell myself that if something happened, the police would have informed me by now. At 4:00 AM I considered calling all the emergency wards in the local hospitals. I also considered calling his friends but was concerned that if he wasn't with them, I would have awakened them needlesly. And then they would worry (probably not but I was not thinking too coherently). Finally, at 5:00 AM I fell into a fitful sleep.
It was a Saturday night and I had to be up early to get to church on time. I was usually involved with the service so I'd often leave early and Wes would come later with the kids. I was pretty tired and stressed so the music practise that I led didn't go too well. When we finished, people started coming in as they usually do and at one point, Wes came in with our children, including Ben. To my sleep deprived eyes, it looked like Ben was swaggering. Because we were in church and there would have been witnesses, I decided not to kill him. Instead, I hissed, "Where were you last night?"
He looked at me, puzzled and replied calmly, "In my bed."
I hissed again, "What time did you come home?"
"I don't know, around 12:30 I guess."
Less hissy, but still angry I asked him, "Where were your shoes?"
He was very puzzled by now, wondering what his shoes had to do with this conversation.
"I don't know. I wore my boots."
The second time he kept me up all night was when he was 18 years old. At this time Ben had been going out with friends and staying out till midnight or so for at least a year. Most of the time, I'd stay awake until I heard him come home but sometimes, I'd fall asleep before that. Generally, I'd wake up at some point in the night and if I hadn't heard him, I'd just go downstairs and see if his shoes were by the back door. It was a good system. I didn't have to go into his room and wake him up if he was asleep and I could go back to sleep knowing he was safely in bed.
One particular night I had fallen asleep early and sure enough, it was around 1:00 AM when I woke up and hadn't heard him come home. I went downstairs to look for his shoes but they weren't there. I was a little annoyed because it was past his curfew. I was wide awake by this time and decided to stay in the living room and wait for his arrival. I made a cup of tea and began reading my book but by 2:00 I could no longer concentrate. I began to worry. Then, I began to pace. By 3:00 AM I was trying to tell myself that if something happened, the police would have informed me by now. At 4:00 AM I considered calling all the emergency wards in the local hospitals. I also considered calling his friends but was concerned that if he wasn't with them, I would have awakened them needlesly. And then they would worry (probably not but I was not thinking too coherently). Finally, at 5:00 AM I fell into a fitful sleep.
It was a Saturday night and I had to be up early to get to church on time. I was usually involved with the service so I'd often leave early and Wes would come later with the kids. I was pretty tired and stressed so the music practise that I led didn't go too well. When we finished, people started coming in as they usually do and at one point, Wes came in with our children, including Ben. To my sleep deprived eyes, it looked like Ben was swaggering. Because we were in church and there would have been witnesses, I decided not to kill him. Instead, I hissed, "Where were you last night?"
He looked at me, puzzled and replied calmly, "In my bed."
I hissed again, "What time did you come home?"
"I don't know, around 12:30 I guess."
Less hissy, but still angry I asked him, "Where were your shoes?"
He was very puzzled by now, wondering what his shoes had to do with this conversation.
"I don't know. I wore my boots."
Happy Birthday Ben!
I was going to begin this post by saying, "This post should have been written on October 6..." but I am trying my best not to use words like "should, must, have to" and others. They are often referred to as "absolutes" and I use them far too much.
It was Ben's birthday on October 6. My oldest son was born on October 6, 1981 at approximately 8:00 AM. That was the first of only 2 times he has kept me up all night. The second time was not his fault. I suppose the first time wasn't his fault either.
Ben's always been a great son. (Oh no. My first "absolute." I'll keep it in though. Even though we've had our differences, he's always been a great son.) I remember in the year he was born we had a beautiful fall and we spent many happy hours together, he in his pram (Yes. I had a pram) and me pushing it. For about 2 years Ben was an only child and he went everywhere with Wes and I. As long as he had his blankie (yeah, can you imagine Ben with a blankie?) he would settle down and fall asleep anywhere.
Ben was unique from most other children in that when it was time to clean up, he actually did. The caregivers in the church nursery would often tell me that when it was time to clean up, Ben would actually listen and clean up. All the other children would put one or two things away but Ben would get right into it. He's always been a really hard worker. I remember the time when he was probably 8 or 9 and we were expecting Wes's parents for a visit. They were driving from Ontario and ended up coming one day sooner than we expected. I was in a panic. Wes' mom is a dear, sweet woman and she keeps an immaculate house. My house was (is) never immaculate and that day especially, it was a mess. I gathered up the kids (ages 9, 7, 4 and 3) and told them that grampa and gramma were coming IN TWO HOURS. They must have sensed that this was a huge deal for me and they all cleaned up like troopers. Ben however, led the way and I was amazed that he actually saw what needed to be done, without my direction, and then did it. I will always be grateful to him for that.
Ben was involved in volleyball and basketball while he attended school and excelled at both sports. His work ethic was apparent in the way he played sports too. He was focussed and worked hard at doing what had to be done in order to win games. His attitude was good too. He was not in the habit of bad mouthing other teams, refs, or people. In that way Ben has a very balanced attitude towards everything in life. A great character trait to have.
This year, he has turned 25. It is wonderful to see many of the positive character traits I saw already so many years ago develop and grow. He is married to a lovely woman, works hard at his job and volunteers at church. I see him at least twice a week and still enjoy his company. Our relationship is changing. I feel less like a mother who has to take care of him and more like an equal, although sometimes I'd like to take a comb to his hair and razor to his whiskers...
It's been quite a trip. When I held him in my arms 25 years ago, I never gave a thought to what life would be like having an adult for a son. While much about him has changed, it amazes me that my love for him remains as strong and fierce as it did the day he was born. I think that will always be the same.
And so, I'd like to wish a happy birthday to Ben. It is my hope and prayer that this year will bring you great joy, happiness and peace. That wish will always be the same.
It was Ben's birthday on October 6. My oldest son was born on October 6, 1981 at approximately 8:00 AM. That was the first of only 2 times he has kept me up all night. The second time was not his fault. I suppose the first time wasn't his fault either.
Ben's always been a great son. (Oh no. My first "absolute." I'll keep it in though. Even though we've had our differences, he's always been a great son.) I remember in the year he was born we had a beautiful fall and we spent many happy hours together, he in his pram (Yes. I had a pram) and me pushing it. For about 2 years Ben was an only child and he went everywhere with Wes and I. As long as he had his blankie (yeah, can you imagine Ben with a blankie?) he would settle down and fall asleep anywhere.
Ben was unique from most other children in that when it was time to clean up, he actually did. The caregivers in the church nursery would often tell me that when it was time to clean up, Ben would actually listen and clean up. All the other children would put one or two things away but Ben would get right into it. He's always been a really hard worker. I remember the time when he was probably 8 or 9 and we were expecting Wes's parents for a visit. They were driving from Ontario and ended up coming one day sooner than we expected. I was in a panic. Wes' mom is a dear, sweet woman and she keeps an immaculate house. My house was (is) never immaculate and that day especially, it was a mess. I gathered up the kids (ages 9, 7, 4 and 3) and told them that grampa and gramma were coming IN TWO HOURS. They must have sensed that this was a huge deal for me and they all cleaned up like troopers. Ben however, led the way and I was amazed that he actually saw what needed to be done, without my direction, and then did it. I will always be grateful to him for that.
Ben was involved in volleyball and basketball while he attended school and excelled at both sports. His work ethic was apparent in the way he played sports too. He was focussed and worked hard at doing what had to be done in order to win games. His attitude was good too. He was not in the habit of bad mouthing other teams, refs, or people. In that way Ben has a very balanced attitude towards everything in life. A great character trait to have.
This year, he has turned 25. It is wonderful to see many of the positive character traits I saw already so many years ago develop and grow. He is married to a lovely woman, works hard at his job and volunteers at church. I see him at least twice a week and still enjoy his company. Our relationship is changing. I feel less like a mother who has to take care of him and more like an equal, although sometimes I'd like to take a comb to his hair and razor to his whiskers...
It's been quite a trip. When I held him in my arms 25 years ago, I never gave a thought to what life would be like having an adult for a son. While much about him has changed, it amazes me that my love for him remains as strong and fierce as it did the day he was born. I think that will always be the same.
And so, I'd like to wish a happy birthday to Ben. It is my hope and prayer that this year will bring you great joy, happiness and peace. That wish will always be the same.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Thursday Thirteen
- Wes and I ate leftover Chicken Caesar Pasta for supper.
- Sammy, the dog, had duck.
- Sammy has developed an itchy, uncomfortable skin rash and the vet thinks he’s allergic to his food. Now we need to buy (very expensive) specialty dog food from the vet. As a result, we’ll be noshing on noodles and no name products while the dog dines on duck.
- Pure bred dogs tend to get skin rashes.
- I spent 2 ½ hours at the gym today. I feel good but a little tired. I don’t do this every day.
- I met with a woman this afternoon that lost her husband when she was only 42 in a tragic accident. That was about 14 years ago.
- Today I bought some dog clippers at Canadian Tire because they were on sale and I thought, “Hey, I cut the hair of my husband, sons, nephews and occasionally my brother-in-law, I can do the dog too.” It came with a DVD which I will watch after I’ve finished my Thursday Thirteen.
- It was another, absolutely gorgeous fall day today.
- We had our elm trees trimmed yesterday. The people who were climbing the trees looked like they were having a lot of fun.
- Several weeks ago my neighbour was getting water in her basement and thought that she would have to replace her water line. It turned out it was our water line that was leaking and WE had to replace OURS. Ouch. That was expensive. She was happy but we weren’t although we now have much better water pressure than before.
- Today, I took a day off of painting. I was getting pretty bored and tired of it. I’ll get back to it next week.
- If it wasn’t for Yvonne, I would not be going to the gym as often as I do now. I would have probably quit.
- We have 3 teenagers living with us and not one of them were here for supper today. That’s why Wes and I had leftovers.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Eric and his Hot Newish Car
When Eric started school, we gave him our 1991 Oldsmobile to drive. We had purchased it for $5,000 in 2001 and it was a good car. Old Betsy finally died near the end of August of 2006 and was promptly sent to the wreckers. This is Eric's new car. A Cavalier. As you can see, he is very proud of it. He bought it at the MPI auction for $800.00 and spent about another $400.00 in fixing it up (thanks Uncle George). I'm told that it is not exactly a "hot" car. Eric will have to wait for that when he's finished school.
Happy travels Eric!
Monday, October 02, 2006
Darlene
I should be painting instead of blogging but it has been almost a month and I’m sure all my blogger friends are wondering just what it is that I am doing that is so important. I really want to get the painting done because the paint cans, brushes, ladders and other paraphernalia do not fit with my idea of décor.
But blog I must because I’m finally ready to tell you about Darlene.
Darlene has been a part of my life since I was born and while I always knew she was there, it wasn’t until I was an awkward and (I thought but really wasn’t) fat teenager that I began to notice her and hate her. It was Darlene that kept me from ever feeling beautiful and sexy. She would always get in the way of everything I was trying to do. She made it hard for me to put on my shoes, or find pants that fit. She kept me from buying clingy dresses and bikinis. When I walked or ran, she kept wiggling and jiggling long after the rest of me stopped. I tried my best to keep her out of pictures that were taken of me. She has embarrassed me many times and about 8 months ago, I decided that it was time to stop letting her do that.
So, I started going to the gym regularly and faithfully. I am mostly happy with the results except my stomach doesn’t seem to be shrinking much. I am 49 years old and have had 4 pregnancies, all resulting in healthy babies. One was almost 11 pounds. I am beginning to realize that my belly will always hold a prominent place in my body and in my life. I could continue to hate it and let it hold me back but instead, I’ve decided to name my belly Darlene and actually show her the love and respect that she deserves.
I have decided that I will no longer try to hide her. I shall wear clothing that shows her in all her glory. And I will no longer be embarrassed by her. I will accept her as she is. And should she shrink a little more, I will be happy but I will not obsess about her if she decides to stay around.
Darlene is like battle scars or old sports injuries. Pregnancies, unsuccessful attempts at dieting (which only caused me to gain weight) are all part of that lumpy, bumpy, jiggly stretch-marked flesh that is mine. I can let her embarrass me or I can be proud of the fact that she and I have survived and thrived through 49 years of living.
So Darlene, welcome. You may stay. However, the less I notice you, the better I will like it. I promise that I will no longer compare you to others. I will not be jealous of those cute, skinny women who have no idea what it is like to have a companion like you. I will no longer stare at my teenaged daughter and her friends, looking for their companions. And when Wes tells me that he loves Darlene too, I will believe him. And maybe, just maybe, I'll buy myself a biki...
Maybe not.
But blog I must because I’m finally ready to tell you about Darlene.
Darlene has been a part of my life since I was born and while I always knew she was there, it wasn’t until I was an awkward and (I thought but really wasn’t) fat teenager that I began to notice her and hate her. It was Darlene that kept me from ever feeling beautiful and sexy. She would always get in the way of everything I was trying to do. She made it hard for me to put on my shoes, or find pants that fit. She kept me from buying clingy dresses and bikinis. When I walked or ran, she kept wiggling and jiggling long after the rest of me stopped. I tried my best to keep her out of pictures that were taken of me. She has embarrassed me many times and about 8 months ago, I decided that it was time to stop letting her do that.
So, I started going to the gym regularly and faithfully. I am mostly happy with the results except my stomach doesn’t seem to be shrinking much. I am 49 years old and have had 4 pregnancies, all resulting in healthy babies. One was almost 11 pounds. I am beginning to realize that my belly will always hold a prominent place in my body and in my life. I could continue to hate it and let it hold me back but instead, I’ve decided to name my belly Darlene and actually show her the love and respect that she deserves.
I have decided that I will no longer try to hide her. I shall wear clothing that shows her in all her glory. And I will no longer be embarrassed by her. I will accept her as she is. And should she shrink a little more, I will be happy but I will not obsess about her if she decides to stay around.
Darlene is like battle scars or old sports injuries. Pregnancies, unsuccessful attempts at dieting (which only caused me to gain weight) are all part of that lumpy, bumpy, jiggly stretch-marked flesh that is mine. I can let her embarrass me or I can be proud of the fact that she and I have survived and thrived through 49 years of living.
So Darlene, welcome. You may stay. However, the less I notice you, the better I will like it. I promise that I will no longer compare you to others. I will not be jealous of those cute, skinny women who have no idea what it is like to have a companion like you. I will no longer stare at my teenaged daughter and her friends, looking for their companions. And when Wes tells me that he loves Darlene too, I will believe him. And maybe, just maybe, I'll buy myself a biki...
Maybe not.
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