Gran is what I called my grandmother, my mom's mom.
This woman was my idol. The more I look back on her life and truly appreciate all she did and accomplished in her life the more my respect grows for her.
She was raised by religious extrememists who bordered on cultish behavior all in the name of Christianity. When she had children she allowed them to make thier own choices and never pushed anything on them. Luckily for me my own mother took that lesson and transfered it down a generation.
She raised 3 kids while married to an abusive alcoholic. She could hunt, fish, garden, process anything she caught or grew, spin, weave, dye, knit, sew, etc. She was truly a self sufficient woman. She was also smart and had a head for business.
Some of my most amazing memories of visitng her were the fact that if we screwed up and got in trouble she would give us the consiquence and it was done. It was never brought up again. It was not hung over our heads when our parents returned. It was just done.
She would make fresh cinnamon buns every Christmas morning - she would get up at the crack of dawn so they were in the oven for when we were all waking up to the amazing smell.
The little pill bottle of pearls she had found in the oysters off the beach in front of her house.
Polishing and dusting her bell collection.
Beachcombing with her and bringing buckets upon buckets of shells and sealife home to try to beg our parents to let us bring home as pets (we lived on the praries).
Picking vegetables out of the garden for dinner every night.
Deciding the color of the hydrangea bushes every spring by the amount of lime she would add - and it always worked! I was allowed to walk around with her and tell her the color I wanted them. She seemed magical.
One year she helped us preserve a bunch of star fish to take home to our friends on the praries. She set up this huge black caulren over a fire on the beach and set up a dye vat. We collected a bunch of starfish and she would set up this concotion over the fire of preservatives and dye that we would drop them into. She would stir it up and then we would lay them along her seemingly endless driveway to dry. When done they were stiff and safe to take home. The visiual reminds me of a witch on the beach making potions!!!
When she was dying of cancer, and finally had to admit it, she never once lost her sense of humor. She was a totally amazing woman. She was the glue that held our family together.
I treasure her memory and have begun to learn all the skills she had so that I can honor her memory and her life.
One day I hope to be an amazing grandmother who gets her grandkids in lots of 'trouble' excpet I will still have piercings, sagging tattoos and probably pink hair . . . I also have a grand plan to become just eccentric enough to make my kids feel like I do at them moment trying to raise them as teenagers!!!
Saturday, 7 April 2012
Friday, 6 April 2012
F is for Frangipani
Frangipani is my favorite incense that can no longer get.
I discovered it in a little store in Fan Tan Alley in Victoria, BC when I lived there. It was unlike anything else I had ever smelled.
It was the first incense that made me sit and think and enjoy the experience of beign alone.
So many times I wish that I could get it again - I have no idea where to buy it. I have lots of other scents that I enjoy but I have never been able to replicate that one.
Years later I have discoverd that spirituality that I was searching for at that time. I have discovered meditation and tarot and trusting my intuition. I look back at all the barriers I would encounter at that time and realized that I probably didn't have a lot of luck with it because it was not my time. The self discovery journey that has occured over the last months of my life has been nothing short of amazing.
I discovered it in a little store in Fan Tan Alley in Victoria, BC when I lived there. It was unlike anything else I had ever smelled.
It was the first incense that made me sit and think and enjoy the experience of beign alone.
So many times I wish that I could get it again - I have no idea where to buy it. I have lots of other scents that I enjoy but I have never been able to replicate that one.
Years later I have discoverd that spirituality that I was searching for at that time. I have discovered meditation and tarot and trusting my intuition. I look back at all the barriers I would encounter at that time and realized that I probably didn't have a lot of luck with it because it was not my time. The self discovery journey that has occured over the last months of my life has been nothing short of amazing.
Thursday, 5 April 2012
E is for Everywhere
Everywhere is the most mis-used word by my children and partners mostly used in the sentance "I have looked everywhere for it and I can't find it". My answer is usually "You didn't look everywhere because if you did you would have it". They don't like this answer.
I think the main difference is in the way we remember where things were left or in the way we look for things. With the kids they go to the last place they remember it being. This could be from last summer and they been to that spot hundreds of time since, but they are shocked when the item they want isn't magically there. With the partners they view themselves as highly organized and it should be where they 'think' they left it. This is not necessarily where it actually is. Because I am a 'piler nor a filer' the blame gets placed on me to have lost it.
I am also the one who seems to find the lost objects.
I have never been a completely organized or neat person. I work really hard at de-cluttering and letting things go daily. Right now I am on a "decluttering for fun a profit" kick - I have been selling items on an online local swap type site. It has been totally fun. I have made more than I would at a yard sale and I am meeting some lovely people.
I guess E is also for Easter . . . . and that is this weekend. Chocolate bunny day is always good!!
I think the main difference is in the way we remember where things were left or in the way we look for things. With the kids they go to the last place they remember it being. This could be from last summer and they been to that spot hundreds of time since, but they are shocked when the item they want isn't magically there. With the partners they view themselves as highly organized and it should be where they 'think' they left it. This is not necessarily where it actually is. Because I am a 'piler nor a filer' the blame gets placed on me to have lost it.
I am also the one who seems to find the lost objects.
I have never been a completely organized or neat person. I work really hard at de-cluttering and letting things go daily. Right now I am on a "decluttering for fun a profit" kick - I have been selling items on an online local swap type site. It has been totally fun. I have made more than I would at a yard sale and I am meeting some lovely people.
I guess E is also for Easter . . . . and that is this weekend. Chocolate bunny day is always good!!
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
D is for Dad(s)
Dad is not something that really resonates with me - I have never had a consistent one in my life.
Dad #1 - my mom and he married when they were young. They had my brother and then me. He was in the air force as part of the Search and Rescue Squadron. From what I understand this is one of the most difficult squadrons to get into - the trials eliminate over 80% of those who apply. He loved his job. He loved jumping out of airplanes and saving people. While on a rescue in November of 1971 the plane he was on went down and killed all 7 members of the unit he was with. It is one of 2 fatal accidents in the entire history of the squadron. I was only 18 months old. I never really knew him. This event really affected my brother.
Dad #2 - When I was 4 my mom re-married to another air force man. We trasferred from Comox to Germany. The Germany stint was supposed to be 4 years and he only lasted 14 months. He left the service, moved to Saskatoon, SK and joined the city police force. He viewed his kids and his pets about the same. They should be there to perform tricks to show how amazing he was. When I was 15, and on my mom's birthday, he left blaming my brother for not shovelling the sidewalk. It was a very odd day. His leaving was the best thing that ever could have happened. He arranged visitations with the dog, not us. This gave me some really identity crisis times over never knowing Dad #1 and a lot of emo poetry was composed in this phase. He and I have never really kept in touch. He met my daughter once when she was less than a year old and had never met my son. I put as much effort into the relationship as he does.
Dad #3 - after many years alone and my mom settling into her own stride she met the love of her life. He was much older than her but made her happy like nothing I have ever seen. He was my kids true grandpa, he loved those kids like nothing I had ever seen. The day he fell and broke his hip was the day his life changed forever. His seemingly ageless self changed into an old man almost over night. He could not regain his health. My mom stayed by his side every step of the way and when it was finally time for pallitive care she moved him home and did it all. He died one year on father's day. I miss him.
Dad #4 - my mom now has a new partner. Her grieving over Dad #3 was long and deep. I figured she would never recover from it. Then she reunited with a childhoold friend who had never married. They have their own houses, their own lives. They travel south in the winter, they are wonderful companions. He is cheerful and respectful and community minded and lovely. I think that he is a great and lovely soul.
Bonus Dad - My Father In Law. This is a man, who in his younger days, was hysterical. I could hang out with him and bullshit all day long. He has a gruff exterior and says the most inapproriate things because he has never adjusted his language as terms and things have moved on. His wife went a little nutty a few years ago and after 45 years of marriage moved out of the house while he was in the hospital. He moved in with us almost 2 years ago. Now he is a frail and depressed person. He is slowly killing himself by not taking care of himself and his health conditions - of which there are many. When you try to help him he gets mad. Yesterday he fell while at the pool and is now in the hospital with severe soft tissue damage and he can't even get out of bed or move his right arm. I am not sure how I feel about this. I want him to live closer but in the house is killing our family. Hopefully this will be a wake up call or a catalyst to assisted living of some kind. We will find out.
Dad #1 - my mom and he married when they were young. They had my brother and then me. He was in the air force as part of the Search and Rescue Squadron. From what I understand this is one of the most difficult squadrons to get into - the trials eliminate over 80% of those who apply. He loved his job. He loved jumping out of airplanes and saving people. While on a rescue in November of 1971 the plane he was on went down and killed all 7 members of the unit he was with. It is one of 2 fatal accidents in the entire history of the squadron. I was only 18 months old. I never really knew him. This event really affected my brother.
Dad #2 - When I was 4 my mom re-married to another air force man. We trasferred from Comox to Germany. The Germany stint was supposed to be 4 years and he only lasted 14 months. He left the service, moved to Saskatoon, SK and joined the city police force. He viewed his kids and his pets about the same. They should be there to perform tricks to show how amazing he was. When I was 15, and on my mom's birthday, he left blaming my brother for not shovelling the sidewalk. It was a very odd day. His leaving was the best thing that ever could have happened. He arranged visitations with the dog, not us. This gave me some really identity crisis times over never knowing Dad #1 and a lot of emo poetry was composed in this phase. He and I have never really kept in touch. He met my daughter once when she was less than a year old and had never met my son. I put as much effort into the relationship as he does.
Dad #3 - after many years alone and my mom settling into her own stride she met the love of her life. He was much older than her but made her happy like nothing I have ever seen. He was my kids true grandpa, he loved those kids like nothing I had ever seen. The day he fell and broke his hip was the day his life changed forever. His seemingly ageless self changed into an old man almost over night. He could not regain his health. My mom stayed by his side every step of the way and when it was finally time for pallitive care she moved him home and did it all. He died one year on father's day. I miss him.
Dad #4 - my mom now has a new partner. Her grieving over Dad #3 was long and deep. I figured she would never recover from it. Then she reunited with a childhoold friend who had never married. They have their own houses, their own lives. They travel south in the winter, they are wonderful companions. He is cheerful and respectful and community minded and lovely. I think that he is a great and lovely soul.
Bonus Dad - My Father In Law. This is a man, who in his younger days, was hysterical. I could hang out with him and bullshit all day long. He has a gruff exterior and says the most inapproriate things because he has never adjusted his language as terms and things have moved on. His wife went a little nutty a few years ago and after 45 years of marriage moved out of the house while he was in the hospital. He moved in with us almost 2 years ago. Now he is a frail and depressed person. He is slowly killing himself by not taking care of himself and his health conditions - of which there are many. When you try to help him he gets mad. Yesterday he fell while at the pool and is now in the hospital with severe soft tissue damage and he can't even get out of bed or move his right arm. I am not sure how I feel about this. I want him to live closer but in the house is killing our family. Hopefully this will be a wake up call or a catalyst to assisted living of some kind. We will find out.
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
C is for Coffee
Coffee is more than a beverage for me . . .
Coffee is a quiet time in the morning.
Coffee is a walk with my hubby holding hands (still after 21 years) to get a treat down the street.
Coffee is a shared passion with my wifey.
Coffee is a loving child making it for us on the weekend so we have that amazing aroma to wake up to.
Coffee is a total addiction.
Coffee is a time out from a busy day, a stressful moment.
Coffee is a visit with friends.
Coffee is amazing.
Coffee is a quiet time in the morning.
Coffee is a walk with my hubby holding hands (still after 21 years) to get a treat down the street.
Coffee is a shared passion with my wifey.
Coffee is a loving child making it for us on the weekend so we have that amazing aroma to wake up to.
Coffee is a total addiction.
Coffee is a time out from a busy day, a stressful moment.
Coffee is a visit with friends.
Coffee is amazing.
Monday, 2 April 2012
B is for Brother
I have a brother. Most of my closest friends don't even know I have this particular relative. When they see a picture of him or hear me talk about him the seem shocked.
My brother is 18 months older than me. Growing up we were 2 school grades apart. He was shorter than me (which pissed him off) and was also really natrually quiet, charming and very popular. He understood the social game that I never did.
Basically I was a bit of an embarassment to him - I was tall, heavy, geeky, loud, and had strange friends. He never could just talk to me at school. We kinda pretended we didn't know each other - it was easier on him.
Since leaving school we have really drifted apart. He came to my wedding, I went to his. He is an amazing uncle to my kids when he sees them. He has recently separated from his wife and we exchanged a brief text conversation.
I am not sure he will ever figure out how to speak to me - I just don't fit his mould of what I should be. He is the golden child of the family because he has been successful in the material aspect of things. He has done all the correct things, has money for vacations, is a neat freak, etc.
If we met in a social venue we would never connect on a social level. The only thing that connects us is DNA.
I hope that his new life will make him happy. I have nothing but the best of thoughts and wishes for him. I really wish that things were different between us and I have tried - he is just not receptive.
My brother is 18 months older than me. Growing up we were 2 school grades apart. He was shorter than me (which pissed him off) and was also really natrually quiet, charming and very popular. He understood the social game that I never did.
Basically I was a bit of an embarassment to him - I was tall, heavy, geeky, loud, and had strange friends. He never could just talk to me at school. We kinda pretended we didn't know each other - it was easier on him.
Since leaving school we have really drifted apart. He came to my wedding, I went to his. He is an amazing uncle to my kids when he sees them. He has recently separated from his wife and we exchanged a brief text conversation.
I am not sure he will ever figure out how to speak to me - I just don't fit his mould of what I should be. He is the golden child of the family because he has been successful in the material aspect of things. He has done all the correct things, has money for vacations, is a neat freak, etc.
If we met in a social venue we would never connect on a social level. The only thing that connects us is DNA.
I hope that his new life will make him happy. I have nothing but the best of thoughts and wishes for him. I really wish that things were different between us and I have tried - he is just not receptive.
Sunday, 1 April 2012
A is for Atypical
Atypical - a word that usually brings up thoughts of 'not normal' or 'different' but really it is a word I really enjoy. I live an atypical life. My relationships, my spiritual views, my parenting style, my views on life in general are atypical if you pay attention to mainstream media.
The things that I view as atypical in my life . . .
- there are 3 people in my relationship with standard and bdsm dynamics
- my 14 year old daughter is able to stand up to friends and not crumble to peer pressure
- my 13 year old son has anxiety, adhd, dyslexia, dysgraphia and borders the autism specturm enough to have the behaviors but not the diagnosis
- my husbands father lives with us and is the cause of a lot of marital stress
- I am a pagan and on a pretty intense spiritual journey
- we participate in mediveal recreation and I have a slight (ok huge) obsession with textile realated stuff
- and there is more . . . .
Now, my life is just my life. I don't look at it as anything other than my reality until I start trying to explain it to someone. It is their reactions of shock, confusion and all the questions of 'how does that work?' that make me realize how different it is.
My entire life I have not followed the mainstream on anything. I think I caused my mother to go grey at a young age with my piercings and my hair and my makeup. She was very patient with me but she still doesn't understand me or my life.
For many years I didn't understand why everyone couldn't just accept me for who I am because I accept then for who they are (another atypical response). I have finally had to accept that not everyone is able to just accept others as they are. I can do that, it makes sense to me. So I just live my life. If others choose to be part of it then I welcome them in.
Now - for the rest of my day I get to think about what my 'B' post will be about tomorrow . . . BDSM, Brother, Boredom . . . .
The things that I view as atypical in my life . . .
- there are 3 people in my relationship with standard and bdsm dynamics
- my 14 year old daughter is able to stand up to friends and not crumble to peer pressure
- my 13 year old son has anxiety, adhd, dyslexia, dysgraphia and borders the autism specturm enough to have the behaviors but not the diagnosis
- my husbands father lives with us and is the cause of a lot of marital stress
- I am a pagan and on a pretty intense spiritual journey
- we participate in mediveal recreation and I have a slight (ok huge) obsession with textile realated stuff
- and there is more . . . .
Now, my life is just my life. I don't look at it as anything other than my reality until I start trying to explain it to someone. It is their reactions of shock, confusion and all the questions of 'how does that work?' that make me realize how different it is.
My entire life I have not followed the mainstream on anything. I think I caused my mother to go grey at a young age with my piercings and my hair and my makeup. She was very patient with me but she still doesn't understand me or my life.
For many years I didn't understand why everyone couldn't just accept me for who I am because I accept then for who they are (another atypical response). I have finally had to accept that not everyone is able to just accept others as they are. I can do that, it makes sense to me. So I just live my life. If others choose to be part of it then I welcome them in.
Now - for the rest of my day I get to think about what my 'B' post will be about tomorrow . . . BDSM, Brother, Boredom . . . .
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