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Showing posts from February, 2012

"There are no edges..."

The clear bead at the center changes everything. There are no edges to my loving now. I've heard it said there's a window that opens from one mind to another, but if there's no wall, there's no need for fitting the window, or the latch. - Rumi  Quoted from "Open Secret Versions of Rumi" by John Moyne and Coleman Barks (1984)

Currency

There was a period of about 3 months for both of my kids at around 18 months of age when my wallet was the toy that they could not be parted with.  They would get in the car and I would hand over my wallet and piece by piece the contents would be examined and emptied.  For that period, I got into the habit of putting really valuable things into other parts of my purse before giving it to them.  I would insert interesting tidbits for them to discover during their exploration. I would throw in fake credit cards, Canadian tire money and membership cards, stickers and paint chips and pictures. Do you have change for a library card?

24 Hours in a Day

Since I have had kids, my days are no longer 12 hours.  Before, my days were roughly halved between being awake and asleep.  Any changes in this routine were generally related to travel or fun times.  There were the same number of hours back then, but half of them were normally shrouded behind heavy drapes. Now, all of them are out on full-display under lights.  They are randomly organized and meted out in a variety of  combinations. 2 and 4 a.m. are like well worn  books that automatically fall open to the same spot time after time. I used to have really fixed ideas about what was normal for 7 a.m. and midnight.  That binary approach to waking life has been transformed and  I now go about my business half awake, ready for sleep whenever the opportunity avails itself. Crunching numbers at 3 a.m.? Sure. Sleeping at 3 p.m.? If possible, absolutely. Making cupcakes at 6:30 a.m., frosting them by 8? Not unusual. Being awake at 5:30, just to be alone.  Yes. I blame artificial

Shulie

According to Wikipedia, Shulie has 2 inhabitants that goes up to 8 in the summer.  My grandmother was a girl in Shulie.  There was a big shipyard there back then.  Then  they floated it down the coast and Shulie                        only in a dwindling few's memories and dreams. As a kid we went there                   we stumbled on in the woods                                                              made us think it was a clue                      A place where people called home and was                       Now, having                 be  and how that could                                                             disappear

Waiting Room Tactics

We've all been there.  Waiting for a long time for a doctor is no fun.  That is unless you have a handheld device.  A person in possession of a smart phone does not "wait" because they are engaged in tasks (okay, games).  We are doing something else (somewhat productive or at least entertaining) right up until the time the doctor calls us in. A box of Smarties is the toddler/preschooler handheld device equivalent.  It is a highly effective distraction tool that keeps everyone going for the majority of the time before they need to go in. A Smarties' box is a multifunctional implement that encourages rattling (glare right back at all those annoyed onlookers or try to be as impervious as possible), a puzzle (how do you open it up without help?) and of course a piece by piece snack that can take a nice long time to finish.  Adults have smart phones, kids have Smarties.

Dairy Bar

Remember when I told you that I picture every book I read in the same 5-6 places in my post, How do you picture it?   Remember how I said that those 5-6 places were all places I knew well between ages 6 and 9?  Well, I am starting to think that the same thing is happening when I write.  I noticed that the last four times I have written a post, I could not get the Dairy Bar  from my hometown out of my head.  There I sit, in front of the dairy bar, blinking and staring straight ahead down the street. This realization prompts some questions for me.   Am I stuck there?   Is the Dairy Bar open?   How about you?  Where are you in your head when you are doing creative work? Photo from Microsoft Office

Lean

One time in university I got a nasty stomach virus and, after days of weakness and eating jello, I finally ventured outside to walk to school.  I was so weak that half way there I had to stop and lean against a tree to rest.  That tree was so solid and so there .  That was the first time in my life that I realized how important it is to have something (and of course, more importantly) someone to lean on.  I also realized how important it is to lean .  Sometimes I forget, but the tree makes me remember.

Morse Code

Proper Cry

Photo Source:  thesetingstaketime.com  via  Stephanie  on  Pinterest I love to laugh.  I love laughing so hard I lose  control.  I love that release.    For this reason and lots of others, I could not wait to see the blockbuster, Bridesmaids last summer.  Everyone told me, "you are going to pee yourself. It is so FUNNY." And yes, I almost did pee myself, but I also cried through almost the entire last half of the movie.  I did not laugh so hard I cried, I just plain sobbed. I felt really sad watching the story of two friends come to terms with how their friendship was changing.  I was really surprised by my reaction after all the hype about how hilarious the movie was, but I knew why.  The brilliance of this movie was how life can be so hilarious and painful at the same time.    Yesterday, I was on a social networking site and one of the people I follow mentioned that she cried "proper tears" upon reading a story about a woman's tragic childhoo

Light shift

Last night I went for a walk just as a pink glow was spreading through the grey sky. The pinky light peeked through the bare trees and over the stone walls and along the sides and over the top of an office tower.  The light is beginning to shift. Well, it never really stopped shifting of course, it is just that I feel like a new season is on its way, the shift could be felt tangibly inside my body as I walked along.  Soon it will be time to dispense with the heavy coats, boots and moist everything.  A lightness is emerging.

Shower thinking

It has happened often enough, but somehow I keep forgetting.  Sometimes I just need to do some shower thinking. You know, when you need to get up from a math problem or a love problem or a budget problem and just walk away?  I walk away and take a shower, brush my teeth, and wash some dishes.  Usually, I do this initially out of sheer frustration, not intention. But then, guess what?  Before I have even sat down again, I will have solved that problem in a way I never ever could have in the way that I was thinking about it before. I have an answer. I have a way of answering the question, if I just give myself a chance.

Pop Punch and Johnny and the Toddlers

I 'm thinking about starting a band.  Today.  Just for today.  It is one of the many things I could  make today.  Other ideas that have occurred to me are, in no particular order: 1. make a red velvet cake (I've never made one before) and decorate it with pieces of left over valentine candy.  I could create a labyrinth of sweethearts. 2. create something eye-catching to hold my loose papers that are driving me crazy (I could re-purpose that ugly dollar store tray???) 3. a book mark to send to my friend 4.a copy-paper box purse 5.a card for a colleague who is retiring If you are looking for ideas... I stumbled on Keri Smith's website recently and I visit it every so often.  It is very inspiring. According to her bio, Keri is an illustrator and guerilla artist.  She teaches and writes books about creativity. Right now she's inviting visitors to her site to draw (right onto her site) what is right in front of them and then submit it to a gall

Jumbo Baby Wipes Box Purse

Directions: 1. Select a child sized purse. 2. Place purse inside a box of any size you choose.  A jumbo baby wipes box works best. (Make sure that the strap hangs out of the top.) 3. Duct tape the top of the box shut. 4. Decorate the box if you wish.

Amelia Bedelia

There was a time when  Amelia Bedelia's ridiculous adventures in misunderstanding were my favourite.  I am gaining a renewed appreciation for the brilliance of these lovingly rendered books.  My six-almost-seven-year-old daughter thinks they are so hilarious.  She'll recount all her favourite bits each day, only half understanding the jokes, but knowing that there is a joke to be understood.  She stands on the precipice of getting her head wrapped around double meanings.   "Do you remember when she thought a sponge cake should be made with sponges?" "Do you remember when she drew ON the drapes, when they asked her to draw the drapes ?" "There is the one I think is so funny, when she trims the tree  with scissors instead of ornaments." Each figure of speech comes with a very long winding explanation as she talks out the possible reasons why it is such a crazy predicament that Amelia finds herself in. She is just this side of n

Playing Cards

My daughter was messing around on her grandmother's piano yesterday and I noticed that she very methodically lined up the cards first and then "played" to them.  After a short spurt of "music", she would re-arrange the cards and substitute some of them for new ones.  Musical playing cards.  Of course.  52 notes, a multitude of combinations that produce a whole new range of melodies.  You just have to learn a new set of notes.  What songs would they combine to create? Which card would be your favourite? Which suit? Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. Makes me want to play a hand. How about you?  I can picture myself clutching a handful of cards as I fall to sleep, a sleep that brings a dream of lullabies I haven't heard yet.

Dinner by Candlelight, Dessert by Lightbulb

I had a brain wave the other day that I am still patting myself on the back for coming up with because they don't happen very often.  My son was reluctant to come to the table and eat supper.  I told him "let's have "Christmas Dinner"".  "Christmas dinner" is code for dinner by candlelight.  Even though we were having macaroni and cheese, he happily ran to the table.  Can we have "Christmas Dinner" every night I wonder? Source: awelltraveledwoman.tumblr.com via Erin on Pinterest In the meantime, my daughter had been pre-heating the easy bake oven for over an hour in anticipation of heating (er...baking) her cookies that she had whipped up for dessert. Despite the lead up time, the cookies came out 45 minutes later as warm dough. I think we are doing it wrong. My son, loves candlelight. This morning, as he lay ailing from a stomach bug he urged me to make some changes. "Let's make this room beautiful. Do you

Write

Source: one-summer-one-love.tumblr.com via Erin on Pinterest So, I have begun.  I have begun to write.  After many long years of composing things in my head, it was time to write.  Fear of failure, sky high standards, lack of a pen(sometimes) all conspired to stop me, but now that I have started I have set some rules for myself.  1. When you feel like writing, sit down and write (or jot down an idea on a receipt until you can sit). 2. When you do not feel like writing, take a breath, change the scenery, but do not wait too long.  If you do not feel like it, write down why.  Learn where being uninspired will take you. 3. Trust your voice. It's in there somewhere. Good and bad writing begets more ideas, more edits, more directions, more clues. Write.

This Job I Have

Am I a mean mama?  Or am I magnifique?  This article, Is Maman mean or magnifique? , about French parenting (mothering mostly) has been making the rounds of late and it has me thinking hard about my role and how much it is shaped by culture, how much it is impacted by sheer exhaustion and how much I am constantly coming to terms with how difficult it is.   I plumb the depths of my resources daily to keep my voice from hitting too high a pitch, to stretch to meet their needs and my own, whilst providing security within which they can grow and learn.  Sure, I regard my role as important but some days (many times a day) I'm not always so sure what part of my role is the most important.  I'm always happiest when we're all doing an activity quietly together--the sun is shining and we're all happily walking to the park or reading a story or constructing a creation.  Bedtimes are the most trying. Mornings, when we have to go anywhere, come a very very close second. Bedtime

Goodbye, Hello

Our little companion Cleo, came into our lives a little battered.  We found out about her because she was advertised on cable and was temporarily housed at a cat shelter.  The shelter, while nice for some, was not a happy place for her.  She was standing well away, as well away as was possible in such a crowded place, from the other cats.  She had a bald spot over one eye and she possessed a neediness that drove me crazy at the time. I was unemployed and new to a big city.  Cleo was a present- a present I wasn't sure I wanted initially.  As I moved about the apartment, she was always under foot.  Eventually, we started to let her dabble a little on the outside which she did with great gusto but always with a tentativeness that never made us fear that she would roam too far or cause any harm to other creatures.  Slowly but surely she assumed her own, distinct place in our lives. She moved across the country with us and that summer, as we hung out by the seashore, this cat wo

Tapas, Not Toast

It could be the on demand breastfeeding when he was younger (my husband's theory, not shared by me), it could be our lack of an overly strict routine at home (more likely), it could be just a quirk of this stage of his development/physiology or it could be  semantics, but my son wakes up in the morning not wanting breakfast.  He just wants snacks. Me "How about some breakfast?" Him "No thanks, I'll just have a snack." Me "What would you like for your snack?" Him "Mini-Wheats with milk, blueberries and juice." Me "Okay, breakfast snack coming up." But you know, snacks are way more fun than meals don't you think? Let's have a meal  sounds like so much work (tell me about it!).  Snack supper is my kids' favourite type of meal.  For now, as long as the "snack" is healthy (ahem...usually), then I'll leave what we call them for another day. How about you?  What are your favourite "sn

Shake your Bummy

In recent weeks, two things have come to my attention, this article by Mary Beth Williams,  T he real key to good health  and the viral hit created by Dr. Mike Evans,  23 and 1/2 hours: What is the single best thing we can do for our health?  Both coincided with when I was turning my attention to new years resolutions and reflecting on the year that was. Thanks to both,  a reckoning came to be.  Mary Beth Williams' candid advice was to get your heart stronger because you never know when you are going to need it.  She herself has been receiving treatment for lung cancer. Dr Mike Evans' way of putting the exact same thing? "Try to limit your sitting time to 23 1/2 hours a day".   In my day job, I sit a lot. I occasionally rise to retrieve something from the photocopier or to make a coffee, but an awful lot of the time, I'm on my bum.  This is in steep contrast to my night job. At the end of the work day, occasionally in the middle, I have to burst out of the doo

Peace Force

My daughter first expressed an interest in becoming a police officer after a police woman came to her preschool to talk about her job.  When she came home, she explained with great earnestness that police "help dead people".  Her interest in law enforcement was not entirely a surprise since she really likes to be clear about what is right and what is wrong, but when we dug a little, it turned out that the thing she liked the most was "her voice".  Her interest in policing endured.  Having only ever wanted to be a teacher, or a helicopter pilot (remember Danger Bay?) or a dancing missionary (I'll tell you about that one another time) myself, I could not really relate.  She, and later her brother, continued to enjoy games with their friends involving putting people in jail (usually their Dad) and taking turns being police officer #1 and police office #2.   This has changed a bit, ever since my mother introduced my daughter to a great book called Wangari'

Dry Spell

Two weeks ago we went to 3 birthday parties for 4 different people in 1 day.  One was a skating party, one was a magician party and the third was a lovely family party for an adult and a one year old.  It was a thrill ride from start to finish.   To get our birthday engines kick-started, the night before all these parties, we had a friend visit who brought along a birthday cake to share for her birthday.  Birthday cake, sprinkles, party favours, fun activities (and yes, occasional meltdowns) were in abundance to be sure. It had only been one week since this intense weekend of festivities when my kids started telling me that it was "Barbie's birthday" and "Goldie's birthday" (our fish).  I could read the signs, we, a mere 7 days later, had hit a dry spell.  Birthday cake to every other kind of food quotient was way out of whack and the kids were urging me to grant them permission to throw another birthday.  Out came the cake mix, the decorations and