Last fall my winter goal was to start pulling together my memoir. I’ve been writing pieces of it with my writing group for the last six years and I thought I was ready to piece it together but it just didn’t happen. Sometimes I think, like making good soil from compost, a bit more decomposition is required. What I did instead this winter was read. I read a lot. I read a variety of books, everything from my passion for gardening to historical novels. I read many of Bernard Cornwall’s books from the 9th to 10th century when the Vikings were raiding the Saxons in what would become England. I then watched the Netflix series, “The Last Kingdom,” based on Cornwall’s novels. I quickly moved onto watching the complete “Viking,” series too. I can’t believe I was able to read or watch stories from that time period, as the violence was so intense. Often I had to close my eyes while watching the shows but that’s hard to do when you read a book and I’m not one of those people who skips over words. If the author feels those words are important for the story, then I’m going to read them. As hard as they are to take in. I’m funny that way.
Shortly after I saw the library’s recommendation, I was listening to CBC radio and “Canada Reads 2022,” books were announced and once again the title, “Five Little Indians,” was brought up. That was it! The Universe was telling me not once, but twice to pick up this book and I try to follow those intuitive signals as I know there is something I need to learn. I immediately put the book on hold at our local library. I was thrilled when I was finally able to collect it a few weeks ago but it just sat on my “to be read” shelf for the first two and a half weeks. I wanted to read it but Russia had just invaded Ukraine and I didn’t know how much emotional energy I had for taking in more horror. Finally, when my library warned me that I only had a few more days to read the book before it would become overdue, I started reading it.
And I didn’t put it down.
The story is about five adult survivors , Lucy, Kenny, Maisie, Clara, and Howie, from the Mission Indian Residential School, on Vancouver Island and takes place in the “60’s. I worried that the flashbacks of their time living in the Residential School’s would be more than I could take and although what they experienced was horrific to say the least, the author, Michelle Good, wrote their stories developing a clear voice for each character brilliantly, but in such a way that it was emotionally readable. Does that make any sense? After reading her eloquent story I feel shaken in my ability to string even few words together that make any sense. I did cry through most of the book, but I also was lifted by their resilience to survive and even take steps to heal.
Halfway through the book the stories of the survivors started weaving in and out of each other’s lives and that propelled me to read even quicker to the end as I wanted to know how she would wrap it up. I mean, could there be a good ending to such a story? Is there a possible good ending after a childhood had been ripped away from these people? How could anything good come after all the pain and horror for the characters or their families? I won’t tell you more but this book left me crying, and smiling and I’m so glad that I finally had the courage to read it. After I finished the last page I went out into my garden, tears moistening the soil, and I just started pulling apart my dead perennials. I’d been putting off this chore as it’s never fun to clean up all the old dead stuff in the garden but after reading that last page, I felt empowered and hopeful…..but still so incredibly sad too. ‘Cause I know this is still happening all over the world…hatred, racism, hypocrisy…when will humans wake up?
While this is a fiction work, I understand that the experiences of the survivors is an accurate representation of what occurred for the Resident School survivors. I understand that Michelle Good’s own mom was one. For me, it was a deeply informative piece of literature and I now see why Ms. Good won the 2020 Governor General’s Literary Award for Fiction and was long listed for the Scotiabank Giller Prize in Canada. And now is on the short list for the Canada Reads list as well.
I’m not going to go any further into critiquing this story but I have to leave you with this one thought, “have you ever read a book where you feel like you want the characters to stay in your life? to become your friends? to become your family?….or for you even to keep reading about how their lives evolve? Those are the BEST books aren’t they? Those books touch our soul and become part of us. I’m so glad I read this book late this winter, as it’s now part of my heart.
If you want to listen to CBC’s Booked VPL with Michelle Good, check out the below;
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
This morning I woke in the wee hours pounding my pillow and crying, “no, no, no.” I’m sure I wasn’t alone. All over the world people are pleading for this Russian invasion on Ukraine to stop. As if we haven’t experienced enough heart ache in the world over the past two years dealing the Covid 19 pandemic, this is like another nightmare that we can’t understand or wake from.
In the last three weeks I’ve been travelling “within” a lot. I’ve been meditating and seeking answers to some life questions. I’ve been letting go of many as well and just trying to live in the moment. I thought I was preparing myself to reemerge this spring, like a butterfly from its’ chrysalis, after a long sleep, but I see now that I needed to build my inner reserves as our world has been shaken once again as Russian cruelly invades Ukraine. It’s a war none of us wanted to deal with in the world.
And yet it is here.
What helps me deal with the horrific stories I see in the news as the Ukrainian people stand and fight for their land, is my spiritual belief that we are “all” spirits who have come to earth to live a human experience. After I read Caroline Myss’s book, “Sacred Contracts,” more than ten years ago, I further adopted the belief, which resonates with my soul. I believe that before coming to earth, our spirit chooses an archetype role we will play during our human existence. (the following is a glimpse into Caroline Myss’s teachings regarding Archetype energy) If you want to delve deeper into her teachings and are interested in the Archetypes we choose to be, check out her book. “Scared Contracts.”
Knowing that each of us makes a conscious choice on the role we will take once on earth has helped me see the bigger picture at play. Often it is the roles between good and evil and we learn from each other as we play the roles. Until we evolve as a species these roles will continue to manifest. Thankfully we are starting to wake up and become spiritually conscious, but if you wonder why we are still seeing so much anger, fear and hatred in the world, that is the last gasps of lower energy archetypes acting out. The Russian leader, whom I will not name as I don’t want to give him any more power, is in my opinion playing the evil archetype. His vibration is low, dark and obviously little light gets into his social awareness. It’s hard to believe this is the role he chose and even harder for me to remember that he too is a beloved spirit. Having this awareness helps me to look at him and his actions with the broader picture in mind and remember that his actions are teaching us and helping us move closer towards the light. But even if you can understand him from a spirit connection I think the question everyone in the world is asking is, “how can we overcome someone like this?”After all we are here in the human form and our role is to act. I believe the answer is quite simple.
Shut out the darkness with love.
Become a beacon of light shining brightly in your part of the world. If enough of us fill the world with light and love, how can darkness reside? We will overcome that darkness. How can we do this in practical terms? We can start each day with the intention to be kind and considerate towards others. Those in our own circles. Fill everyone you meet with gratitude for their existence. Sometimes this is simply a thank you….or a smile. This is a good time to up our random acts of kindness towards our neighbours. Take your neighbours garbage can back to their house at the end of the day or drop some muffins off at their doorstep with a note that you appreciate having them as your neighbour. You know even something as little as when you are driving in your car, look for opportunities to be kind on the road; yield to others, recognizing you see them. Let them merge in front of you kindly. Drive consciously.
Another big one is finding something that brings you joy each day and authentic light will fill up around you and you will glow for everyone to see. You may wonder how you can be joy filled when there is so much horror going on in Ukraine and other parts of the world? The thing is, by living in fear and worry, only gives more energy to the darkness. Live in a place of light, love and joy and be like Ukraine’s national flower……
Other practical things you can do right now is to donate money. The Red Cross Ukraine was our first organization to contribute to. Another good organization I found when I heard the actor and philanthropist, Ryan Reynolds was matching up to a million dollars in donations, was to the United Nations Refugee Agency. When I see women, children and the elderly fleeing Ukraine, I can easily get behind this organization. It doesn’t have to be a lot of money but if we all give something it will become a BIG contribution. When I heard that people from all over the world were also booking Airbnb stays in the Ukraine with no intention of travelling but only wanting to put some money in Ukrainian people’s pockets, it made me cry.
There is so much goodness in the world. And if you are coming to my blog I know you are a big piece of that as I attract like minded people. We are limitless in how brilliant we can shine. Take my hand and join me in taking a deep breath now. Let it fill up your heart field. Connect with your soul energy and as you exhale, let it cover the earth with your light.
We can all be the beacon of light the world needs now. What role are you going to choose to take? I loved this video below as this one brave woman brought some light to the world around her….it made me want to shine brighter and sing too! “Lean on Me.”
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful. Shine On!
Although February is the shortest month of the year, it can also be a month that drags on and on. I guess that is why so many of us plan trips to warmer climes this time of year. We restore our reservoir of Vitamin D, take off a few layers of clothing and lighten our spirit. We travel to places that give us a different perspective so when we come home, the lens through which we view life is clearer. (Oh, and don’t we appreciate our own bed all the more!)
While away, many of us immerse ourselves in other cultures, experience exotic foods and tour around historic places. When we return from our trip, we experience the joy once again by sharing stories and memories with friends and family. All too soon, however, our relaxed holiday vibe evaporates into the ether of every day life and our adventure experience is packed away, gathering dust, like our suitcase.
I think for many of us right now, we travel to escape this pandemic too. A part of our brain still hasn’t processed this crazy reality we are experiencing and we think if we can just get away, when we come back it will be gone. Or at least more bearable. The thing is there is no escape. This event is happening globally and I believe it’s the shift and shove our world needs in order for us all to embark on the greatest adventure of our lives.
Doesn’t the GREATEST adventure sound EXCITING?
Maybe you have already been on this trip???
You don’t have to pack a swim suit or ensure your travel vaccinations are all up to date. You don’t have to find someone to care for your pets, or ask your neighbour to keep an eye out on your house. However, you will need to pack a new perspective. Trust me, it’s one that will change all of our lives. Look at this time in history as a portal to creating a richer life. Are you wondering what I’m talking about? The inspiring writer and poet, Rainier Maria Rilke, offered this sage advice more than 100 years ago. His words resonates still, as truth with stands the ages.
And no travel agent is required.
If you’ve ever sat in solitude for any length of time, or walked outside with only the birds as your companions, you will have experience the gateway to the journey within. It’s where spirit meets us and takes us to a place of limitless space and time. A place of peace. While we are there we may want all answers to our questions but;
Rilke also reminds us to:
That’s exciting to me…living the questions. Experiencing them all…even the pain, the terror, the uncomfortable moments on the journey. The best trips in life have a little bit of everything in them after all. Have you ever snorkelled for the first time and had water fill your mask?
Guess what? More and more of us are taking that trip. We see this time in history as an opportunity for a major shift in collective consciousness and we are uniting together increasing the energy vibration full of light and love. And where does love come from? Our truest nature; our spirit, our soul, call it what you will. Our eyes are open and there is no turning back. It’s a good thing too because our Earth needs us all to come together, not just for the sake of humanity, but for the climate crisis happening which will impact us all.
If you haven’t jumped on this bandwagon but are interested, you may be asking yourself?
How do I embark on such a trip within? The cool things is you can jump right into the depths of this journey with a daily meditation practice or some soulful time on a yoga mat. Not for you, you say? Well try this then. One very simple thing you can do happens first thing in the morning. Instead of groaning when your alarm beeps and letting the problems or worries of the day over take you, take a lovely deep breath. Fill your lungs and then slowly breathe out through your nose. As you are taking that first breath of the day, whisper, “good morning,” to your spirit. Wiggle your fingers and your toes, stretch your body and whisper, “thank you!” You have another glorious day ahead of you and now as you take another breath, set an intention for the day. What would you like to focus on? How do you want to walk your path today? What do you want to experience?
The trip within starts with awareness.
Will loving kindness be your guide? How about sprinkling some compassion throughout your day? The funniest thing happens when my intention is to be gentle on myself. My day starts slowly. No rushing. I’m conscious of my breath. I’m not yelling at my kids to wake up but by gently rubbing their backs and whispering, “good morning,” into their ears. As my day starts to unfold I’m conscious not to fill it with too many expectations. If I have already filled my calendar, I edit the least important obligations.
The weirdest thing happens on these days. When I’m back in bed later that night, counting my blessings and ready to close my eyes, I realize that the day ended up being incredibly productive. A day of gentleness ended up being a day when I accomplished more than I would have otherwise. It often is a day full of joy, creative moments, time with myself and time with my loved ones. Maybe I’ve even reached outside our immediate circle and spread some love and encouragement to others. By starting the day asking for gentleness to come, I allowed my spirit to guide me and what came were the same feelings I experience on a good holiday or trip; joy and peace.
And I never left home!
Hmmmmm…..
I have a few other tips on things to do while getting ready for the greatest adventure but I wanted to share something I’m doing this month to get away. It might intrigue you too…
This Friday, February 11th, 2022, I’m starting another adventure with spirit. I’m taking my second, “Foundations of Mediumship and Channeling,” course and I’m SOOOO excited to connect with my spirit team and work with them on a daily basis. If you want to hear more about it, check out this YouTube video and ask yourself, “does this resonate with my spirit?” Is this a trip that I want to take or experience? Since connecting with spirit is all about love…this is my Valentine’s gift to myself. Here’s more about the upcoming course and I’m plugging it on behalf of my daughter who is in the process of building her business as a spiritual teacher and guide. I’m so proud of her!!! She has always been one of my biggest teachers in life.
If it excites you, then I invite you to join me on this journey. But remember, the journey within starts with yourself and if you are new at taking this sort of trip, here are a few tips and some background on what prompted me on this trip of a lifetime.
A bit over twenty years ago, I started on a journey that resulted in a major spiritual awakening. While trying to conceive one more child to complete our family who was not coming through as easily as the ones I gave birth to in my 30’s, I started taking some life style changing steps that eventually allowed me to expand my consciousness and manifest my soul baby….and another three! (I had never dreamed I would be a mom to eight children, four of them born after I was 40!) Many people view having children as a biological act but in order for me to bring these last children to earth, I had to travel deep within myself and touch the divine. They are the magical manifestations from that long, ten year trip. Oh But WHAT a TRIP!!!
What are you trying to manifest in your life? Whatever it is, I’m going to share the secret now. Are you ready? The key to bringing whatever you desire into your reality is that you must have laser focus/a dream or intention on whatever it is you want. That desire is going to be thrumming in your brain. Then you have to trust that somehow your dream will come true. You may find that you are working really hard and doing everything you can to bring that dream to fruition but things just aren’t flowing for you. You have to trust that magic is happening behind the scenes and the timing may not be right yet. The last key I’m passing to you is the most important of all. Can you guess what it is? “Surrender.” You simply let go. Yep, that’s it….dream it,trust that it will come and then let it go! And after you have done those three magic things, you can play at the following and watch incredible events and experiences happen in your life.
Note: You can do the following in any order. Start incorporating them slowly and your perspective will start to shift. You will start noticing signs that you are not alone, and things will start happening in your life that will allow whatever you have been waiting for to manifest.
Ready? Here are some suggestions as you take that trip within.
Declutter! Years ago I took a course at our local College on the art of Feng Shui and spent a whole winter reading everything I could find on the topic. That winter, I went room by room and decluttered the things that were no longer serving us any longer. By spring time I had created a space for our family full of peace and calm. Decluttering is a constant process and once you start you will find it doesn’t end just with your physical belongings but will spread out into all areas of your life. After I decluttered our home, I started letting go of toxic relationships and anything that was not supporting my journey.
2. Start taking care of your physical body. Eat whole food, eliminate white sugar, flour and anything processed. Buy a juicer or a really great blender, and start your day with a veggie juice each morning. Stretch and start moving your body. Build a stronger core. When we start feeling better physically, we will sleep deeper and we’ll have more energy for what we want in life. I started practising yoga and found connecting with my breath while sitting on my yoga mat brought me quickly to spirit. Having a yoga practise that starts and ends with some meditation is life changing! Plus having balance, flexibility, strength and endurance all helped me walk my daily path.
3. Get outside and connect with earth’s energy Turn off your phone, kick off your shoes if you can and touch the ground with your bare feet. Sit against a tree and feel it’s roots ground you. Allow the magic of nature to find you. Since I’m a gardener, digging in the earth daily, playing with plants and working with our trees and bushes restores me three seasons of the year in my climate. If you only have an apartment invite some plants into your home. If you have a deck or patio, start growing some herbs, and vegetables. Our earth heals us and brings us to ourselves!
4. Start noticing what you are thinking? Power your thoughts with positive self affirmations. Examine your belief system. Read, learn, follow your intuition and allow it to be your teacher. I find that judgments are always flitting to the surface of my brain and I have to gently remind myself, “it’s all good!” We are human so this will happen. Being conscious is the key. Being loving while on our path is the most important thing we can do.
5. Find a few mantras that keep you on your path. Trust and let go was mine throughout the years we were trying to conceive our last four children. It reminded me that there is something bigger than myself at work. It also allowed the Universe to provide what I needed for a more enlightened life. Listen within. You spirit will tell you the words to chant. Be your biggest cheerleader!!!
6. Start a gratitude journal or a gratitude jar. At the end of the day, write down three things that you are grateful for, or things that happened to you during the day that helped to guide you on your path. When you start this practise, you will be heightened to all sorts of things that happen in your life that you never noticed before. Also, when you start being actively thankful for gifts, more will come. Before you know it, you will be writing down five and then ten things in your journal each day. Watch joy start being your constant companion through a gratitude practice. We have a gratitude jar in our kitchen and during the year we fill it up with little pieces of paper full of grateful moments. On New Year’s Eve, we take turns reading out the notes and afterwards we take them all outside and burn them in a pot, sitting in the magical white snow. It’s been a fun tradition for our family and I believe it’s teaching our children to look around them and be conscious of all the wondrous things put on their path each day. We are soooo blessed!
That’s it.
That’s my list of suggestions for your upcoming trip. What’s really exciting is when you start working on one or two of the above, things start to really roll. For instance, when you start exercising outside, eating well, sleeping peacefully, you may have energy to add some sun salutations on your yoga mat in the morning. And this will make you feel even more inspired so you will then head into your kitchen and fill your juicer with yummy veggies to provide your liver some added support. If you have been looking for a yoga beginner, sun salutations practice, check out this YouTube video. (Just thinking of it now makes my backs and legs and arms, want a good stretch!) Namaste!
Thank you Ashton! And you didn’t even have to leave your house!!!
I have one more link that you may find useful as you prepare for the trip of your lifetime. Earlier this year, I discovered Suzanne Guismann. She is a mystic, medium, spiritual teacher and get this, a former military officer in the U.S. She provides evidence based, aha moments, so if you are skeptical of people being able to connect with spirit and hesitant to start packing for your own trip, then she may blow your socks off. She’s currently offering a free, on line course called: 3 Keys to Unlock Your Powers of Mediumship. Learn more about it: here.
I also want to give you a link to a few of her free guided meditation sessions. They are at the bottom of her “gifts” page. There is a 10 minute clearing chakra meditation and then the one I love, is called, “Making the Connection.” In just twenty minutes allow peace to find you. (click on those hyper links to find the “gifts” page and then scroll down for the free guided meditations)
And I have one more quote by Rilke for you because you are so LOVED! The Universe wants you to tap into everything that is waiting for you.
Well my dear friends and family, I feel like I’ve written another novella type post. It’s hard not to go on and on and want to share the magical journey of travelling within. It’s simply life changing and I know I’m not alone. So many people are shifting their perspective and becoming more spirit driven. Filling our world with more light is always a good thing so, “Shine On” my dear ones and journey well.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Some days I feel, “but a drop” in this bigger reality we call life. Drifting aimlessly through my days of being a mother and wife. And then some days the vastness of my being blows me away. The piece below was inspired by a prompt my writing friend, Akira suggested for our writing group. “Beginnings and Endings, Endings and Beginnings, Beginnings and Endings again.”
I hope you like it and it gets you thinking about where you are in your reality. Where are any of us REALLY?
“The mountains gave birth to me. In the beginning I was only a trickle of melted snow but I grew bigger when drops of moisture fell off the great evergreen trees encircling me. Spring rains filled me up and I started running with glee down hill where I eventually joined a bubbling stream. What a happy time it was, gurgling over rocks and leaves. Once a soft brown eyed deer drank deeply from me and hidden silently in the bushes was her spotted fawn. Only I saw her.
I started picking up more speed and realized I was now part of a frosty creek. As we moved along, other streams arrived and they became my kindred spirits. We laughed and danced moving with ease and flow when suddenly a distant roar entered our peaceful forest.
The trees on the bank were moving swiftly past me and the loud noise became deafening, like a hundred lions lay ahead. Without any warning I flew with my friends through the air, falling, falling, so rapidly we fell that I lost all feeling and thought of myself. A crash brought me to my senses and I found myself in a dark green pool floating easily and gently downstream. Warm sun made me feel lazy and relaxed.
For a long while I allowed myself to be carried away until I noticed the landscape around me had changed. The trees were thinning and the land beside me was rich and green. Black and white spotted cows munched on thick blades of grass in the pasture beside me and in the distance I saw a bright red barn with crisp white trim. There was much to see now as I travelled along and I kept my eyes wide open.
I felt big and strong and realized I was no longer a creek, I had become part of a mighty river with a mind of its own. The powerful current moved so rapidly that I found I had to hold onto myself at first and then I flew over some boulders and joined the white waters full of froth and fun. I let go and became interwoven with something greater than myself. Suddenly, I felt an awareness of beings connected to all things.
My senses grew sharper. My vision became crisper and clearer and my ears picked up the smallest nuance of sound. Everything was alive. I marvelled over the wooden and then steel bridges we travelled under. What feat of engineering created those I wondered? Cars and trucks too numerous to count flew by me on the nearby highway and floating all around were all types of boats; motor boats, barges, even a little ferry.
People too were in every place I looked. On the shore I spied a little boy fishing with an old man. One so small with brown hair sticking out from under his baseball cap, and the other tall, bent over and wizened but between them brilliant sparks flew as they laughed over the little fish the boy had caught. Oh how delightful this world is, I thought.
Around the next bend I had to blink a few times to focus on the impressive sight. A mass of buildings covered the whole landscape. Many of them were so tall they seemed to touch the sky and like castle sentinels they welcomed me to come closer. I couldn’t take it all in; the people, the cars, trucks, boats and the buildings, were all so much more than I had ever imagined in this world. It seemed like a lifetime ago when I was just a drop in the stillness of the mountains.
All too soon my river slowed and I had time to observe people on colourful houseboats. One woman was watering bright red geraniums in terracotta pots. Some people walked dogs of all shapes and sizes on the paved pathways beside me and some sat in quiet contemplation on rocky beaches, their bench a long uprooted tree.I noticed some seemed happy and others sad. What brought those emotions I wondered.
In deep reflection of all I’d seen I was brought up to the top of the surface with a start. I was changing in colour and texture. No longer was I part of a clear river, but instead had changed into a cloudy grey and there was a salty heaviness slowing me down. How strange to experience so many transformations and yet feel exactly the same. And as I was thinking this, without any warning, I left my river behind and flowed into the endless ocean.
The end of my journey had come.
Or had it?”
We are all but drops. But the point is, “we are!”
and we are not alone!
Until we meet again I hope the love and light of February fills your soul until it bubbles over.
Remembering an old photo from the early 60’s, I could almost hear the booming countdown; “Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One,” and then a jubilant chorus of voices singing, “Happy New Year!” In the photo, men and women were dressed to the nines, wearing their holiday finery. Silly party hats perched on their heads and noise makers were held in their hands. In the middle of the room were two men laughing their heads off. One was pushing a large wheelbarrow with the other one riding inside. He was dressed in nothing but a cloth diaper, bonnet and carrying an enormous baby bottle. Across his bare chest was a New year’s banner.
It was simple joy from another time.
Looking at this photo, images flickered through my mind of my parents getting ready to go out for the evening. My mom was fluttering around the house in her red satin party dress. The tight bodice and big skirt accentuated her still tiny waist, after having us four girls. I inhaled her flowery perfume and turned my chubby, four year old cheek towards her bright red lips for a going away kiss. My handsome, dark haired dad was standing at the back door jiggling car keys and calling, “Ethel, we’re going to be late.” A moment later she hurried into the kitchen and he helped her put on her jet black, Borg fur coat, with the shiny silver lining. They gave us a final wave, a quick smile and then they were gone.
My parents, Marvyne and Ethel Clark
Our parents had been married on January 1, 1946 and going out on New Year’s Eve was their way of celebrating their anniversary each year. They would go to a house party or in the later years to the Elk’s hall in our little town of Hope, where the picture I mentioned above had been taken. Another tradition that started as soon as my older sister’s Bonnie and Cherie started having money of their own was they’d pool their resources and buy a little gift for our parents. It wouldn’t be much, but along with taking them breakfast in bed it was a sweet tradition.
It was the first joy of the New Year.
A few days ago, I asked my sister Bonnie about the photo I remembered and with a chuckle she said, “Oh yeah, that was probably Dad in the wheelbarrow being pushed by his best friend Ralph Feltran. She then said, “Dad was always doing silly things for a laugh.” I do remember another funny moment when Dad and probably Ralph again, placed a women’s purse on the road with a fishing line attached and then they hid behind the bushes. When a car stopped and the person went to investigate the purse, Ralph pulled the fishing line and Dad started rolling some film through his Kodak movie camera, to capture the person’s reaction to the moving purse. Many of our neighbours knew Dad well by all the practical jokes he pulled over the years.
Another time we were visiting my grandma Clark and all the aunts, uncles and cousins were there too. Dad started filming once again and when he had enough film clips, he asked if I would put a sign on my frilly underpants and bend over. Even though I was probably only around three or four, I told him emphatically no, as that would totally embarrass me around my older cousins. Later, I wished I’d let him put the sign reading, “The End,” on my butt, so I could have been in one of the last home movies he filmed.
Thinking of my Dad, our family and the little things that made life more fun has got me thinking about the memories we are creating for our children. We have lots of traditions and are an active family but I find we are goal oriented, intellectually driven, and our joy is often linked to our accomplishments and not so much on simple fun moments.
Except for my husband David. I often walk by his office throughout the day and see him laughing and joking with his clients and his coworkers while talking on the phone or during a video call. He works hard but doesn’t take anything too seriously. Each night at dinner, he’ll tell us a funny incident that happened during his day, or he will share the latest joke from the comedian, “Jeff Foxworthy’s daily calendar he has on his desk. The one today was, “You know you are a redneck when you tuck your shirt into your underpants.” He likes to sing old rock and roll songs in the car while driving the kids to their various activities, even though he knows he should be singing tenor, ten or twelve feet away from anyone, as he can’t carry a tune. At the end of the day, when the house is quiet, he will often escape back into his Den to watch some comedy sitcom episodes. When asked what he’s up to he’ll smile and say, “I need a bit of funny before bed.”
I want a bit of funny too this year. I think I now know what my New year’s resolution is; I want more joy in my life. More spontaneous laughter over the simple things. So when December 31st 2022 rolls around I think I’ll be making a sign and sticking it on the butt of my jeans and this is what it will say,
“The End of the BEST year ever, but the Joy continues!”
Before I close I wanted to share a few pictures we took of the family over the holidays. As I look at these pictures I remember the moments of joy we created; playing games, sledding in below 20 weather, movie marathons; it was a good holiday and I’m looking forward to more moments in 2022~more joy!
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Although summer is my favourite season with those endless sunny days, there is something profoundly moving about winter and the magic that comes with winter’s solstice. It’s funny that I should say moving, since winter solstice actually means, “sun stand still.” It is a time of quiet reflection. It’s a space where we can slow down, take deep breaths and transform in the peace of the season.
Speaking of transforming, I turned 62 in November. I don’t advertise that number because I live in an ageist society. If we revered our wise elders, I would be shouting my advancement towards Universal insight from the rooftops, however, since that is not the case, I remain silent. Our three youngest children, born late in my life, when I was 49 and 51 have often told me of instances where their friends are curious about my age, probably because I look more like their grandparents than their parents. My kids are totally on to them and know society makes judgment calls regarding age, so when the mom age question comes up, they smoothly reply, “She’s ageless!”
I’ve got them well trained!
And even though I don’t focus on my age, I did give myself a birthday present this year. It was a gift of an experience. The minimalist in me loves those the best and what was even better was this gift was a month-long course being run by my oldest daughter, Alyssa. She is a spiritual coach and medium. Like my age, my daughter’s profession is not something I share with many. If I run into someone who used to know Alyssa growing up and they ask me what she’s up to now, I reply, “She’s teaching.” This is not a lie. She went to University, obtained her BA and her B Ed, trained and worked as a teacher for a number of years in the U.K. and here in Canada, all in the traditional school setting we know. What I don’t tell them is that she is teaching people how to connect with their spirit team and she now guides people towards their soul’s purpose. If I told them what she was really doing they would think she was kooky and I was off my rocker for taking one of her workshops.
And so I remain silent.
This is a sad thing because her course, which was called, “Foundations of Mediumship and Channeling Spirit,” was the most profound life experience I’ve had in a long time and I’d like to tell others all about it. She set up the course in the inquiry based learning method that she was trained for in University, where she guides her students, using prompted course material and then encourages them to follow their interests and get engaged. When you are delving into sensing energy and connecting with spirit there is a lot of practising and stepping out of one’s comfort zones. Especially when you get thrown into a group Zoom energy meeting. This scared the pants off me the first time I started practising reading with spirit guiding me but I also found it invigorating. It was a bit like riding a bike that had been leaning against the wall for twenty years, and suddenly I found my balance with ease and was flying downhill gleefully.
During meditation, almost every day, I’d ask the big question from my spirit team, “what’s the message today?” My heart chakra would glow a gem like green and the first message I would invariably receive was, “you are so loved.” Now that might not seem like a profound message but it shifted my world this month. I mean, who doesn’t feel good when their angels, spirit guides, and ascended masters appear and tell them that they are loved! I even had my mom and dad come forward one day, which was a lovely reunion. They were smiling, clapping and generally cheering me on and before they stepped back, they reminded me that I am loved.
The course ended officially this morning. In the afternoon I was sitting on our window seat in the kitchen, a steaming cup of peppermint tea warmed my hands and our Siamese cat Yuuki was curled up next to me, snoozing peacefully without a care in the world, as cats tend to do. I was dreamily looking out the kitchen window. The lake below our house was a stormy blue and the rolling waves were capped a frothy white. Although warm weather is predicted tomorrow, the mountains surrounding our valley stand ready, preparing them themselves for the pending arrival of snow. Fall is quickly moving through the door and winter will soon be our new guest.
I took a deep breath in and for a moment everything was still, quiet and peaceful. At a time when much of the world is going to sleep, I’m wide awake. I feel like a crystal snowflake, perfect and uniquely brilliant and now connected to so many other shining lights in the world. As we get closer and closer to the winter solstice and the days grow shorter, I’ve been thinking about the day when the sun stands still. In celebration I think I’ll light a candle and go outside and say,
“I’m ageless and I’m loved.”
I can remain silent no longer.
If you too are wide awake and wanting to join a community of light filled people, check out Alyssa’s web site below and sign up to be on her mailing list for an upcoming course or ask her for a one on one meeting. She has an active FB group called, “The Inn of Story Nights,” and she is the Innkeeper. I hope on the shortest day of the year you open the door and join us for a hearth fire gathering. There is magic and community there.
The link to her website is http://www.innkeeperarr.com/
This is a picture I took of Alyssa last Christmas helping me work out the bugs in my computer.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
I hope this post finds you well. I haven’t been doing a lot of writing on my blog, but I have been writing. Every two weeks I meet with my writing group and we write about all sorts of things. Recently, one of my writing buds suggested a mouse trap as our writing prompt. Okay, I said and I took it home and turned the idea of it over and over in my mind for two whole weeks. Since we’ve had cats in our house for most of my life mice have never been a huge problem but I finally came up with a memory that I unearthed the night before my writing group was to meet. Yes, I know, nothing like doing things the last minute hey? But, sometimes the best things in life are just whipped up at the last moment.
I hope you like the story below and it reminds you that the things we are most afraid of, when put into perspective, are actually the things that teach us the most in life. Here is my “Mouse trap free zone,” story….
Ring, Ring.” Picking up our cordless phone I said, “Hello?” “Debbie, can you and David come right over?” my mom asked in a high pitched, panicked voice. “Sure, what’s up?” I asked, motioning for my husband who was starting to rise off the couch to stay right where he was. “I think I just saw a mouse race across the room, “she said fearfully, “ and you know how I am…..” “Yeah,” I said, “we’ll be right over.”
On the drive over to my mom’s house I shared a story from my past. It was 1967 and I was 7 years old and we were living in Chilliwack. Mom had been a widow for two years and was pulling herself out of the fog of grief. She had taken an evening secretarial course and recently found a job working as a hotel desk clerk at the Empress. At this lovely hotel she was able to put a smile on her face for the guests and step away from the heaviness in her life for a few hours every day. Anyway, we were settling into our new life and had moved into a small house perfect for the three of us. We used to laugh over our fancy address, “49 Broadway,” which made our street sound better than the modest homes surrounding us. One rare evening that she was home, for she often worked the night shift, I heard my mom’s distressed voice.
Ahhh! She shrieked and I ran into our kitchen to find mom standing on one of our grey vinyl and chrome kitchen chairs. She was jumping up and down as much as one can while balancing. Her eyes were wildly searching the room. “Mouse,” my mom shrieked and I quickly joined her on another chair. A second later, my older sister Joni ran in from the back bedroom. Although she was only eleven or twelve at the time, with calm control she took in the whole scene and asked, “where’d it go?” “Under the stove I think, “ mom said, her finger frantically pointing while still hopping up and down.
Joni casually flicked her long ponytail behind her shoulder and took a broom out of the closet. She plopped down on her tummy and slowly pushed the wooden end of the broom under the stove. In a flash, a little grey mouse raced out from under the stove and huddled under the baseboard beneath the sink. “Eek,” mom shouted, “hit it with the broom Joni!” she yelled. Taking one look at Joni I knew that was the last thing she was ever going to do. She had taken care of her good friend Lorna’s pet rats while Dad was still alive. He had let her keep them in his garage and she took really good care of them and I’m sure was sad when Lorna returned from her trip and she had to give them back. I knew the last thing she would do was kill the mouse but I didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening on the chair with mom either. “Joni do something,” I pleaded.
Joni left the kitchen and came back with a box that had been in our utility room. The mouse hadn’t moved but it’s little pink nose was twitching madly. While mom and I looked on, Joni carefully placed the box near the mouse and then as if she was riding in a cattle round up, she basically herded the mouse into the box with the broom and quick, bam, boom she closed the lid. She turned to look at us and said, “You can come down now.”
There were many other mouse related incidents in the years after Dad died but mom would never lay mouse traps in our house. As much as mom hated the mice, she didn’t want to hurt them. When I was ten years old my mom was dating Hamish Macintosh and one day he brought over a Siamese kitten to give us. He didn’t last long, Hamish that is, but that cat, whom we named Kitty, took care of our mouse problem for a long, long time and was a favoured friend of mom’s.
I was just wrapping up the story when David and I finally arrived at my mom’s house. After Hamish left, my mom did meet a really nice guy. Bud was my step dad for thirteen years. He was a kind, generous person and along with our cat Kitty, he kept the mice at bay in our house. When mom called us for help she was a widow again and Kitty was gone too. We got out of the car, only to see mom standing at the screen door nervously looking at us and then back into the house. When David got close to her she had relief in her eyes, she exhaled and said, “thanks so much for coming.” A moment later, Mom and I assumed our position on top of the kitchen chairs, shrieking as we spotted the mouse running through the kitchen. David calmly took stock of the situation, then just like Jon did twenty five years earlier, he caught the mouse easily. He turned to us and said, “You can come down now.”
Mom’s left us almost ten years ago now and we have had a few mouse incidence since then but I’m not scared of mice anymore. I realize now there are bigger things to be scared of in life.
I miss mom!
Memories are a mouse trap free zone. They capture the moments and strip them of anything irritating and remove animosity and leave instead a tiny grey mouse, with a soft pink nose that looks at you and reminds you to be brave.
I want to thank my sister B for correcting a few things in my story, regarding the Empress hotel and Hamish’s last name. The one above is the edited version. Also, when I mentioned to my sister J that I was writing a story about the time we lived together in Chilliwack she shared with me that she actually flushed the mouse down the toilet!!! I never knew that until now. Also, I thought the pet rats were her rats but she was actually rat sitting for her best friend Lorna. Isn’t that a funny thing about memories and how we shape them to be what we need in life. Anyway, it was a fun topic to write about and I hope you enjoyed the story. It certainly whooshed me back in time when mom and I were standing on chairs, freaked out about a mouse under our feet! Ha….I miss her…especially this time of year.
I have another story coming soon that I just wrote called, “The Gift of Winter’s Solstice.” Although the weather has been warm for this time of year, winter is quickly approaching and it was a piece I needed to write. My writing group seemed to enjoy it and oh we had so much fun as we always do listening to each other’s stories. I will share it with you soon. But for now, I will wave goodbye and hope you are staying warm.
Winter’s coming!
Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Until recently I’ve been in a deep funk. This Covid 19 pandemic is dragging on, and on, with no end in sight. This past summer we experienced another depressing season of wildfires and choking smoke, reminding me that our planet is crying in crisis. I’ve been reflecting on whether global warming can even be reversed at this stage and it weighs heavy on my chest, like a hopeless stone.
Little things have been happening though, like small electric shock treatments clearing the dark fog from my brain. Another of those happened this past weekend. It was supposedly a Thanksgiving weekend in Canada. I have to say that I can’t feel very thankful however for how our country has and continues to treat our indigenous people. Instead of celebrating Thanksgiving this year, we chose to welcome fall into our midst. We also celebrated my husband David’s birthday.
This year his birthday fell on Saturday, October 9th, 2021. While he and our our oldest daughter Alyssa, and our three younger kids. Will, Kate and Victoria went for a long walk through our nearby Kalamalka Provincial Park, I stayed home making a four layer, chocolate cake which I call, “Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”
For two hours, I was home with just our Siamese cat Ryuuki, who was curled up, sleeping on the window seat in our kitchen. Other than the whirring noise from our mixer, our house was still and quiet. In the silence, it occurred to me that I’m seldom alone these days. David started working from home two years ago, when he and his partner bought their engineering company. Every day I hear him in our den participating in Zoom meetings and looking intently at the drawings on his computer. He has jobs all over B.C, Alberta, Saskatchewan and they even have a job down in Alabama. The project manager working down there calls it,”the Red Neck Riviera.” Long before vaccines were being rolled out here in Canada, they were readily available at any pharmacy down there but the majority of the population refused to be vaccinated. They claimed there was a government conspiracy to control the south and tracking devices were in the vaccine. David always comes out of his office at the end of the day full of interesting stories, even though he never leaves the house.
Anyway, as I was icing Tall, Dark and Handsome, I wondered if the lack of alone time was perhaps the cause of my slow funk into oblivion. I’m one of those people who likes their own company and I tend to be an introverted person, so perhaps this was the reason for my current mental state. Or it could be that everyone but me has a useful purpose. David heads into the den each morning and is our main breadwinner. Our older daughter Grace is enrolled in University and even though she is largely taking those classes from her bedroom, she has a life. Our younger children, Will, Kate and Tori are now back to school and are busy members of the Kokanee swim club. Also, they have their respective music lessons and instruments to practice. I have the endless task of doing laundry, and other chores like icing this cake. With this thought, I finished the cake, topping it with luscious, maraschino cherries and sparkly white sprinkles.
While wrapping David’s birthday gifts, I started to relax into the quiet, breathing in the peace of our home. Once all the presents were wrapped, I whipped through the house straightening things and when everything was done, I sat next to Yuuki on the window seat, sipping some peppermint tea and stroking his soft fur. Someone was wind surfing on Kal Lake below our house, and the colourful sails flew across the white caps without a care in the world. Just as I was wondering whether David and the kids were ever going to come home, I heard the rolling hum of our garage door opener. Moments later, noisy, rosy, red cheeked children spilled into the kitchen. My tall husband, his brown hair messy from the wind, smiled at me. He poured a cup of coffee and the kids oohed and awed over the cake sitting on the counter. As they pulled out the hot chocolate and boiled some water, they talked over each other, telling me about all the sights and sounds from their walk. Each had their own story to tell.
A little piece of gratitude flashed into my heart and I gave thanks for the perspective of quiet, and the joy of happy noise. Of course, the sight of Tall, Dark and Handsome didn’t hurt either…and I’m not talking about cake!
My tall, dark and handsome husband…David. (On his birthday October 9th 2021, Kal Park
Our oldest daughter Alyssa, out for a birthday walk at Kal Park
Will above, being silly. Our little tree huggers, Kate and Tori, below.
Tall, Dark and Handsome is just a double batch of my Rich Chocolate Cake recipe. If you want to make it, check out the previous hyperlink for the recipe…I often make it for Valentine’s day. If you are feeding a crowd this recipe with four layers will do it and then some.
Happy Fall….and Happy Birthday David!
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
“In a world of more than seven billion people, each of us is a drop in the bucket. But with enough drops, we can fill any bucket.” ~David Suzuki~
The view from our upper deck on a brilliant early 2021 summer day. Is this simple blue colour going to be a thing of the past in the future?
Dear family, friends and blog readers,
Now that we are safely on the other side of summer and cooler days are with us, I’d like to take a moment to look back in the rear window, as we leave summer 2021 behind.
Summer of 2021 was the third worst wildfire season on record in our Province. Day after day we endured scorching hot weather. Smoky air, thick as pea soup, filled our lungs if we ventured outside. Every morning I woke hoping to see a little bit of blue sky, but most days heavy grey blankets of smoke covered our valley, making me feel claustrophobic, like being stuck in a box without a lid.
On our hottest days we often were visited by a deer or three. A few times we had a mom with her spotted twins. Being outside was like living in an oven but on the north side of our yard, under our Japanese Maple, there was a bit of relief.
A bit of history so we don’t forget; our 2021 wildfire season began officially when the George Road fire seven kilometres south of Lytton started on June 17th. While we were away on our first camping trip of the season, an oppressive heat dome covered our Province and we experienced record breaking temperature spikes. The plump ripe cherries ready for picking in our yard suddenly became dehydrated clumps in our trees and our strawberry plants, normally at their juiciest peak, were cooked to dry, brittle leaves.
Our cherry harvest totally destroyed by the early heat in July 2021
On June 28th, while we were camping, a Province wide campfire ban was declared and while we cooled off in Mabel lake, the little town of Lytton, the hottest place in Canada for three consecutive days, was destroyed by fire. Two people died in that fire.
During our week camping at the end of June and into early July 2021 a heat dome covered our Province and while we were staying cool in the mountains up at Mable Lake, wild fires erupted everywhere
By July 20th, people in 2900 properties in our Province were evacuated and our Public Safety Minister, Mike Farnsworth, declared a wildfire related state of emergency in our Province.
Fires were burning everywhere.
The darkest days for our little community of 40,000 people happened on August 6th and 7th. I’ll never forget Friday, August 6th, as the air was thick and heavy with smoke. Dark grey clouds started to billow up from where I knew fire fighters were combating the White Rock Lake fire burning across the valley from us. All day long it felt like we were in a war zone, as helicopters flew over head with lines hanging down holding water filled buckets. Then by mid afternoon, the wind started to whip up the lake below our house and I ran around frantically, first rolling down the poolside patio umbrella and then racing up to our second floor deck, rolling down the umbrella outside of our family room so it wouldn’t blow away. Once the umbrellas were rolled down the poles continues to bend and sway and the trees around our house whistled in the hot wind.
This image was taken on an ordinary summer day in 2021…this was not one of the worst smoky days either…those days you could hardly see our neighbours…but this one gives you the idea of what we lived through this past summer….no blue sky and no clean air to breathe. I snapped this picture mid afternoon on August 6th, in a few hours the sky would be as black as night. A few days prior to this the community of Monte Lake north of us was ravaged by the same, White Rock Lake wildfire. Many people lost their homes to this fire!
Standing on our upper deck I could see grey smoke billowing up into the sky from what was called the White Rock Lake Fire across our valley. By 6 pm the sky was as dark as night. Pieces of wildfire debris were dropping from the sky as David came back after picking up our daughter Grace, who had been working at the waterslides. The windshield of our van was covered in black dust and there were black fir needles caught in the windshield wiper blades. It felt like Armageddon had arrived and all night the winds raged. The next morning we woke to pieces of burnt moss and blacked bark laying everywhere. The trees, grass and drive way were covered with the black scorched remnants of the fire, which we found out later had moved 2 kilometres every hour the night before.
On Saturday morning the 7th, we woke to an evacuation alert. That’s when we realized we didn’t really have anywhere to go, as every direction in our Province was not safe. That was also a moment of realization that what was truly important wasn’t a material item that we could just pack up and take with us. Our only priority was keeping our family safe. Our house, our pool, our second car, all those patio umbrellas, and T.V.’s etc…well, they didn’t matter in the big scope of things. Yet, those were the things we had worked so hard to acquire.
Our earth is suffering from mass consumerism. We are in this situation after a century of our earth’s population trying to have it all. Bigger houses, more stuff, fancier cars, exotic vacations. Our world is at a breaking point and it’s only going to get worse, unless we start shifting our priorities and focus on this climate crisis.
At the end of summer of 2021, nearly 8,700 square kilometres of land in B.C. was burnt and at the height of the wildfire season, the number of active wildfires in B.C. was over 300. We were not alone in facing fires this past summer; so many other parts of Canada and other countries around the world faced a similar experience. Can we do anything to change global warming?
The good news is that there is something we can all do…
Here are ten things the David Suzuki Foundation suggests we can do now to assist in this global crisis: (details of each can be found at the link below)
1. Urge government to take bold, ambitious climate action now
2. Use energy wisely — and save money too!
3. Get charged up with renewables
4. Eat for a climate-stable planet
5. Start a climate conversation
6. Green your commute
7. Consume less, waste less, enjoy life more
8. Invest in renewables and divest from fossil fuels
We are already doing number 5 if you’re reading this blog post! Being aware and changing our perspective is the first step.
My family celebrated fall this weekend by going on several walks. The air is starting to be crisp and clear, some leaves are changing to brilliant reds, golds and oranges and are starting to fall, making that satisfying crunch under our feet. The kids climbed some trees and revelled under a blue sky. A blue so peaceful it makes me grateful. After the 2021 summer we experienced, it’s these simple things that make me happiest. Being with my family in nature. There is nothing more that fills me up with joy.
How about you? What brings you joy and makes you grateful?
While we can’t take on the world’s issues all on our own, we CAN each be that little drop in the bucket that David Suzuki talks about; each of us can make choices every day to live on this earth in a conscious, more intentional way. Yes there will always be people who do more, or less but do what you can. Look at the list above and ask yourself, what can I do today.
Let’s fill up that bucket, allowing it to spill over and provide the earth what it needs to heal. Need inspiration? Just go for a walk in nature today and listen to what the earth tells you.
At the beginning of summer 2021, Victoria and Kate took their violins down to the beach below our house and played, “Touch of Blue.”
Thank you for visiting today. Thank you for being a beautiful drop. Thank you for helping me stay inspired.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
A month ago we were returning from the west coast, after helping our son Harrison move into his new place. Harrison is starting his fifth year living in Victoria, the capital city of our Province. He’s been enrolled in the University of Victoria’s Gustavson business school. This is a coop program, where you study academically at the University, but then have the opportunity to work for several companies throughout the program to enhance your education. This fall, Harrison secured a wonderful opportunity to work for a large investment company, located in Toronto (he’s working in Victoria, on line due to the pandemic) and next Spring, if all goes well, he will complete his degree.
He’s been doing exceptionally well and has even garnered some scholarship money. The only downside to attending the University of Victoria has been the housing situation. It’s never been great for students, as the University only has enough housing for first year students and this year the demand was so great that they couldn’t even accommodate those request. It’s not like we were ignorant of this fact, since our older children, Alyssa and Mitchell both completed their degrees at U Vic, but you know, you always hope that something will be found.
The first year Harrison lived on campus but by the second year, since U Vic doesn’t have adequate housing, he had to secure something off campus. Fortunately, Harrison made some great friends and he and three other guys rented a house together, where they lived for year two and three. Then in year four, wanting a change, he and his two other roommates, rented a trendy 3 bedroom apartment in the Uptown area of Victoria. That worked well last year but his roommates, both business students, are spending their last year of school learning abroad, so Harrison had to find something else. By this time however, he was really ready to find his own place. Easier said than done, since demand was out weighing inventory and this blew the roof off rental prices. Well, all real estate for that matter!
Victoria is one of the nicest places to live in Canada….this is a picture of the inner harbour
It was literally down to the wire and we were telling Harrison that he could always come home for the fall, since he was working on line anyway, but then he found a place. A perfect place. The fact that the real estate agent hired to rent the suite, had also attended U Vic’s business school, might have swayed things his way as he secured it quickly. It’s always good to have mutual connections!
Harrison’s new, 400 something square foot, one bedroom condo suite is located in a styling building on the edge of downtown Victoria; walking distance to the famous inner harbour and has all the amenities that living in the city brings.
That cool urban lifestyle is attractive in so many ways.
Harrison’s new place to hang his hat, has a unique look
When we agreed to help Harrison move out of his apartment and into his new place, I thought it was going to be two busy days but Harrison had been busy selling unwanted items and decluttering with a vengeance. It’s not that he had tons of things. In fact the fact that he didn’t, made it a lot easier. as he could pick up each item, down to individual math books for instance and say, “do I need this? do I want it?” and then find a home for it. He had also rented a van and started packing some things in it before we arrived on August 30th.
Will, Kate, Tori and David….no whales on our trip over but it’s always fun going through the Active pass and looking at Ocean side cabinsThere is something so restorative about being on the ferry to Vancouver Island…always an adventure!
We arrived late afternoon on August 30th, and with the help of our three youngest kids, Will, Kate and Tori, we were able to move Harry out of his apartment and fully pack his van in a matter of hours. Easy, peasy! We were able to pick up dinner and have a lovely evening back in our hotel room. He was officially out of his apartment and everything he owned was in the van or in the back of our mini van. It was a breeze.
The next morning, August 31st, we were up early. Harrison and his Dad went off on several errands; Harrison had to meet with his previous landlord to hand over the keys and have the final walk through of his old place. He had to pick up the keys for his new condo’s elevator, so we could have it exclusively the next morning for his move. Later in the day, he finally got to see his new condo, while picking up the keys from the real estate agent. Up to that point, he had only seen pictures of his place but both he and his Dad were thrilled seeing it for the first time and they returned to the hotel later that day with many stories. The kids and I had stayed in our hotel for most of the day. I took them swimming in the poo,l which we had reserved for our own use, we had read, played games and snacked a bunch.
We had the pool all to ourselves while Harrison and David accomplished moving errands
When David and Harrison returned, we went to do some shopping, (new bedding etc) and to pick up dinner. We did get to bed early though, as we knew the next day would be busy.
We got up early the next morning and put on our running shoes, ready for the big move. Harrison had the elevator and parking spot reserved from 9 to 1 pm and I thought we would really have to hustle to get everything in during those hours. Between the five of us however, we were able to move him into his place in 45 minutes. I kid you not!!! We packed that elevator maybe three, at the outset, four times and were easily up and into his apartment with all of his belongings in NO TIME. The kids were a big help! Once everything was in the suite, David and Harrison put his bed together and the kids and I unpacked all the kitchen items, washed them, and placed them in the perfectly tiny and well appointed kitchen.
By noon, the kitchen was all set up. David and Harrison went out on a few errands; to return the elevator key, and the moving van, etc and the kids and I remained. The only hitch was that the new white sheet set we had bought from Homesense the day before, only had 1 flat sheet it it. Where was the fitted sheet and pillow cases that were supposedly inside? No problem though, as we had a number of things to still obtain and we would return it and find another set, garbage can and cutlery container, to name a few other helpful items to make things feel homier.
This picture is from the advertisement of the building and while it isn’t Harrison’s bathroom configuration….it has the same colours and finishes…small but chic! I loved the flooring which you can’t see here but it’s black and white.
While Harrison and David were gone, I made up his bed with the bedding we had, and the kids being so exhausted, actually all laid down in a row on his bed and fell asleep on the cozy duvet. I was shocked at how fast they all dropped into a deep slumber but the place was so restful that even I wanted to just lay down and dream. I didn’t though. I unpacked a few more boxes and moved the furniture around into a better configuration. Not that Harrison had much, but having less makes it more fun. (Harrison’s girlfriend Dani, had lent him a few pieces that fit in beautifully with the decor of the place…she has incredible taste) When David and Harrison returned a few hours later everything was in place. Other than a few Rubbermaid boxes, which I stacked in the hall, there really was nothing else to do. He could literally just start to live.
…except we needed food.
I couldn’t resist putting baby bear in the middle of the pillows when I found him in one of Harrison’s boxes. He’s had him for 22 years now!
With the thought of food, the little kids woke up and we took off again. We had lunch in the van as we drove to Costco, and then we had a delightful time shopping for food to fill Harrison’s fridge. After living with roommates for several years this was the nicest part for Harrison, as the whole fridge and freezer would be his alone and he could fill it with all the food he wanted. It made me so happy too! In the picture below, his fridge is behind the wall to Harrison’s right and the stacking washing machine and dryer are in the cabinet to his left.
Harrison and David on move in day…..almost everything is unpacked! The ceilings are super high and the feel is an urban loft with exposed pipes etc….the hall wall is concrete. The floors are a dark distressed wood….easy to clean!Harrison’s first moment to sit in his new digsThe moving crew
Once we returned and filled his fridge and freezer, we took off again for a delightful walk to Victoria’s historic inner harbour. We soaked up the downtown life; watching people, window shopping, and taking in all the sights of Harrison’s new neighbourhood. As the day’s curtain slowly closed, the evening breeze gently flowed in from the ocean. We ended our walk at one of our favourite places to eat in Victoria, “Tacofino.” We ordered up our chosen taco’s and ate them right on the street. On our walk back to Harry’s place I was thinking, “what a cool, hip place to live.” It suits Harrison perfectly.
Will, David, Tori and Kate in front of the infamous Empress Hotel in Victoria’s inner harbour The sun set as we were down at the inner harbour on this Sept 1st, 2021….it was an exciting and fun day
Returning to Harrison’s building, we all hugged and took a few more pictures, then it was time for us to say goodbye and return to our hotel for our final night’s stay in Victoria. It was the easiest and most fun move I’ve ever experienced. Since then, we have spoken to Harrison many times and each time he marvels over the joy he feels in his new place. While it’s nice to live with other people, there is something to be said for having a place all your own. It’s a place where you can really relax and be at peace.
Harrison has found that in his tiny place.
Well dear blogging friends, family and blog readers, I will close for now as I’m off to bed. It’s late here and as per usual, the only time I feel like I can write is when the house is quiet. I hope this post was somewhat coherent as a result, ha! I’m glad to have shared Harrison’s move with you. While we may not have a small footprint of our own, we can always carefully edit our belongings and surround ourselves with only things we love and use. We can all have a place of peace to call our own.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Welcome friends, family and blog readers. With National Truth and Reconciliation day happening tomorrow, I thought I would write a piece for my blog. At Hope’s homestead I’m not just wanting to chat about the environment and becoming more sustainable, or even sharing one of our family’s latest recipes, lately I’m finding this blog is evolving beyond just those topics.
Today I wanted to share a piece of my heart and something my family is feeling strongly about in the event of the discovery of the 215 unmarked graves at the Kamloops Indian Residential School last May. Since then, there have been even more at other schools across Canada. I hope you are feeling as outraged as I am and my story resonates with you. Come walk the path with me towards Truth and Reconciliation
~Blessings from Lee~aka Hope
The Path
Even though it was just after nine in the morning and our campsite was surrounded by the cooling forest, I knew the day was going to be another scorcher. On our first day at the Mabel Lake Provincial campground, after setting up our tents, we jumped in the frigid mountain lake and were refreshingly restored. In all the years we’ve been coming here, never have we swam in this lake so early in the season. Then half way through the week, another first, a campfire ban was declared. Temperatures were racing well over 35 Celsius. making the threat of forest fires imminent.
On this July 1st, 2021, I was stirring the bubbling oatmeal over the cook stove when my twelve year old son William opened the tent flap and emerged with porcupine like hair and a pillow creased face. He plunked down into one of the black, folding chairs, circling the empty firepit and asked, “what’s for breakfast?”
“How about some cinnamon spiced oatmeal?” I asked and then added, “or can you make some toast with jam and peanut butter.” “I’ll start with the oatmeal,” replied Will, as he dug around in our camp kitchen box, looking for his turquoise bowl and spoon.
As Will hungrily ate his oatmeal I pulled out our large Canada flag and some rope. I strung it from one fir tree to another at the back of our campsite. “I thought you weren’t going to put up the flag this year mom,” he said. I stood back appreciating the placement of the flag, admiring the bright red maple leaf amongst the deep green of the trees. I remembered the conversation we had had after the 215 unmarked graves had been discovered at the former Kamloops Indian Residential School a month back. I had been so sad and then so flipping angry that I went on a bit of a rampage in our kitchen, the day we heard the news. The day I questioned the country I called home.
That day a discussion ensued around our kitchen table. Our ten year old twin daughters were sitting on the window seat and Will and his older sister Grace were in their respective seats. My husband David came quietly into the kitchen, his eyes opening wide as he questioned what I was so upset about. As we started to eat I shared the story I had just heard on the National News and everyone listened intently.
Kamloops Indian Residential School where the remains of 215 children were found in unmarked graves in May 2021
We had home-schooled the kids for the first year of the pandemic and I had encouraged them to learn the history of Canada’s indigenous people. It worked into the curriculum beautifully as we were studying the European explorers who had come to Canada. To get to the truth of the matter though we had to dig deep and reflect on that time in history to discover the ugly fact that settlers invaded this Country and basically took the land from the Aboriginal people. Will was learning about the various levels of Government and how Canada was established. Our Indigenous people’s history was woven throughout these stories but we were always questioning the truth and trying to understand the climate at various times throughout history.
When the news of the discovered unmarked graves in Kamloops was broadcast, it was one more story layered over what my children were learning. At the dinner table that evening, our daughter Grace shared her remembered experience while touring that school, a few years earlier. She said it felt like a tragically sad place that was deeply haunted. It was a field trip that taught her more than any reading on the subject could do, since she was there feeling the heavy energy at the site. Why hadn’t I been taught this 40 years before when I was in school? I knew why, because I was living in the thick of society’s darkest secrets and our Country wanted to bury the truth so they didn’t have to be accountable. Even my own family was burying something.
All these things poured, like a raging river over my mind’s jagged thoughts. Scant memories about my great grandmother, Mary Caroline Ling, also flooded in. She had been my maternal Grandfather’s mom; a First Nations woman. Our family’s skeleton in the closet if you will. An ancestor that was not talked about. I knew so little about her, except she was the second wife to Charles Herrling, and they had had two children together; August (my grandfather) and his brother, Joseph. Charles Herrling had emigrated from Austria and settled on the Island near Hope, which today carries his name, and is called, “Herrling’s Island.” I don’t recall any stories of Mary Caroline, but the impression my mom gave me of her dad, was that he was a man of few words. A picture I have of him shows a man with glistening dark hair and shining eyes. But what of his mother, Mary Caroline? I may never know, as my family seemed to gladly bury her memory.
August Victor Herrling (January 10, 1882- August 1946)` My maternal Grandfather (He died after being kicked by a horse but my older sister B says that it wasn’t an immediate death but he apparently lingered for a bit but finally succumbed to his injuries…probably brain injury)
I was thinking about all these things when Will asked me why I was hanging up the flag. I sat with a sigh on one of the folding chairs and looked at Will. “You know I have mixed emotions about Canada day this year. It’s not a simple thing. I love our country. I used to be proud to be Canadian but it’s hard to be proud of a country formed on stolen land and I can’t imagine how I would feel if society said I wasn’t fit to raise my children, and took you all away from me. What if I never saw you again?”
Will had stuck some bread to his marshmallow roasting stick and was toasting it over the propane stove while solemnly listening to my thoughts. Then he said, “I want to camp every July 1st ‘cause being in the forest and at the lake is the best. I like paddling in my kayak. I like learning to fish, even if I never catch anything. Even making toast on a stick makes me happy. “
Above…Will (12 years old)on his kayak, learning to fish. July 2021
Victoria and Kathryn in Mable Lake during our camping week…notice the Canada Flag floatie that Will received for his birthday in JuneVictoria, Will and Kate on their bikes during our camping week at Mable Lake, the first week of July 2021
“Yeah,” I said, and smiled at how the simplest things make us happy and wondered why we always want more. It was time to give back the land and long past time to apologize for missing children, lives destroyed, lost languages and culture.
But what could I do?
Just then we heard a siren and with that piercing sound my twin daughters excitedly popped out from their tent. We all ran to stand at the entrance to our campsite and looked up and down the road, trying to see where the noise was coming from. Around the bend in the road we spied the Green Fish and Game truck coming towards us at a snail’s pace. It’s lights were flashing and it’s siren was blaring. What the heck I thought! Then as it got closer it dawned on me that we were about to see a parade.
Here we were far from the city and people still came together to remember this Canada day. Riding behind the truck, were kids of all ages on their bikes or scooters decorated with red and white balloons. Canada flag stickers were pressed on their sweaty cheeks, people with dogs, bouncing along on leashes bedecked with red and white ribbons, smiled and waved their tiny Canada flags. Parents pulled little kids in decorated wagons or pushed them in strollers. Everyone was singing our country’s National anthem. “Oh Canada,” At the end of the parade was the camp attendant’s golf cart. On the back of the cart was a large sheet cake and the attendants were busy cutting and passing out cake to the campers along the parade route. My kids were were jumping up and down once they saw the cake.
Moments later, we all sat around our fireless pit, eating the yummy cake. All was quiet once again, only the crows were cawing as they looked down at my kids’ faces, smeared with white icing. I was thinking, “that was nice.” Maybe being part of a larger community of people who are working together to make Canada a good place for everyone to live is the beginning towards Truth and Reconciliation.
Any path with cake is a good place to start.
The End
Thank you for reading the above story which I wrote in honour of our first National Truth and Reconciliation day tomorrow. As I was writing, I was wondering what I could do next and I found this helpful link. If you want to join me on the path where we can make a difference, click on the link below to learn more.
We’ve been living under the shadow of this Covid 19 pandemic for 18 months now and I’ve hardly posted on my blog. That may not sound like a long time but it’s the longest year and a half of my life. Normally an optimistic, glass half full, everything is rosy type person, this pandemic has wiped hope from my days and left me feeling dry and brittle, like a broken shell lying on the beach. I haven’t even had the energy to write, which tells you how dark things have gotten, since writing is my cathartic release for processing life events. But today, after the kids were safely off at school I thought I’d better sit down and start typing to find that little piece in me that holds the light. To find that light I need to travel back.
I invite you along the journey, for your light may help me find mine.
For my family this pandemic became real when we found out that our daughter Grace’s high school trip to the U.K. was cancelled. She was to leave on March 15th, 2020 and be in Ireland wearing green and celebrating St. Paddy’s day on the 17th. We were in a state of flux for several days before the planned departure day and then our Provincial health officer, Bonnie Henry, advised people to cancel trips, which our school district promptly did. A few days later, our Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, announced that our National borders would be closed as of March 18th. That settled any idea of travelling in or out of our country. Our daughter Grace’s trip to the U.K. would not happen and our older son Mitchell, who had been in Australia for the past year, would not be coming home until the borders opened again.
I think that was the first day my depression crept silently into our house, like a small grey mouse looking for a bread crumb.
Spring break arrived and while we revelled in the momentary halt in our world’s rotation, we also spent large moments huddled around our T.V. set waiting for news about the spreading virus. Restrictions came one after the other. First, with recommendations for people to isolate in place and distance themselves. In the beginning, our health authorities didn’t insist on masks but I thought that must be a mistake. Wasn’t this a respiratory virus and wouldn’t we want to prevent the virus from entering our mouth and nose? Eventually, masks were mandated and our family’s back door ledge became a mask filled epitaph and our new bohemian decor was replete with hand sanitizing bottles which littered our house.
At first, it was a lark and an adventure and we took the task on with abundant enthusiasm. After all, this was our opportunity to spend more time with our kids and also guide their learning in areas that we viewed were important. We spent our mornings studying math, science, English, and socials. The kids had more time to practice their music and after lunch we went on long hikes up the mountain behind our house. Tea time at 3 pm was relished by all as we sat outside savouring the muffins and scones we had made together; an opportunity to teach fractions, measurement and a life skill. Later in the afternoon we scattered around the living room, settling into the various chairs and couches, pulling blankets over ourselves like we were heading into a long winter hibernation. We plowed through novel after novel in this state and some of us had lovely naps.
Kate, Will and Tori on the mountain behind our house. Almost everyday we went on this hike during our homeschooling year together.
At first, I was in a state of bliss, lulled into this isolation novelty but as summer arrived and the pandemic situation didn’t improve, I wondered if life would ever normalize. Throughout that spring and summer our world shook again as we watched incidence, like the murder of George Floyd, a black man who took his last breath under the knee of an abusive police officer in the States. Sadly, this wasn’t an isolated incident and while we were all sequestered like jurors in court, we watched similar events occur again and again. Black Lives Matter rallies were held and then far right advocates and white supremacist crawled out of the wood work like ants after sugar to spread their message of hate. We watched in horror as the U.S. coped with civil unrest but sadly it wasn’t isolated to one country. While the world came to a screeching halt due to the pandemic, we had a moment to glimpse how minorities are treated all over the world. Here in Canada, a microscope clearly illuminated the horrid treatment our Indigenous peoples have experienced throughout the ages and continue despite our journey towards Truth and Reconciliation.
I cried every day.
Then a huge shake up came in the fall of 2020 when the United States held their election and all hell seemed to break loose as the Republican president Trump was voted out of office in favour of Biden, a democrat. There were riots and protests and the snow globe was shaken again, this time causing a blizzard of epic proportions. The world shook as Democracy in the U.S. was on trial., This historic event seemed to crack open the darkest corners of our world and hate mongers flooded out of the darkness, like the wicked witch’s flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz movie. Throughout it all, like Dorothy, I just wanted to go home; back to life before the storm. (If you want a image of this click on the video below)
In the fall of 2020, the spark I felt when we started homeschooling blew out and our days dragged as we trudged through the curriculum set out by the Province. Our youngest daughter Kate hated math so much that each morning was a new battle. Her twin Victoria, was flying through the lessons, trying hard to please and do her best but became extremely anxious whenever we left the house on our rare and infrequent big grocery shops. She’s hung onto us like she’d never see us again as we opened the garage door. Her hands were also clear indicators of her fears, as they were red and raw from her constant washing and hand sanitizing.
At age 11, all of our son William’s work was done on line and he quickly got sucked into the vortex of the ether world, coming away from the blue screen looking disengaged and blurry eyed. In hindsight, I wished we hadn’t join the School District’s V Learn program as it didn’t work for us. We should have taken the leap and became independent homeschoolers but I didn’t want our children to lose their spots in our coveted elementary school. If we had become homeschooling rebels, we would have had to register in a different school once the pandemic was over and I knew our children wanted to return to their former school. We did our best day by day but it wore us all down.
That little grey mouse found more than a crumb and grew bigger every day.
Finally, in February of 2021, a glimmer of light started to shine through the dark clouds of the pandemic. Several vaccines were being rolled out and our oldest population, being the most vulnerable, were slowly being vaccinated. Surely it was only a matter of time before our whole population would be protected from this virus.
Spring arrived but the snow kept falling….above Victoria and Will on our deck greeting another snow fall.
With the vaccination hope, despite the fact that the pandemic wasn’t over, a new school term was beginning in February 2021, so we decided to send our children back to school for the spring session. We had home schooled them almost a year by this point and they wanted to see their friends again. We had a few scares when our children were exposed to others who contracted Covid 19 and we had to self isolate but thankfully, none of us ever became sick. The school year ended and by mid summer our whole family was vaccinated. Everyone except our twin daughters, who are only ten, and the vaccine hasn’t been approved for them yet.
I’m not going to go in depth here regarding the extremely hot weather we experienced this past summer and the drought that ensued or the hundreds of forest fires raging in our Province. I did want to touch on it though as the air quality was so bad for most of the summer that we could hardly see the lake right below our house. One day we had an evacuation alert and felt what it must have been like for so many people in our province who had to leave their homes due to the fires. That gave us a sense of being trapped in the glass dome and having no where to go. Scary!
The health of our earth has to be a priority or we as a species will not survive.
I thought by the time fall of 2021 arrived the snow would finally settle and we would be moving into a post Covid world but then the big hand shook the globe and we stumbled around looking for the light despite another raging storm with a pending National election along with this fourth wave. Anti Maskers and vaccine protesters spilled into the streets defying common sense, creating havoc in our world. And instead of party leaders telling us what they would do to get us out of this pandemic or deal with the climate crisis, they kept ranting and raving that this election should not have been held during a pandemic. That was no help at all in my opinion and frankly I’m tired of our country’s leaders acting like five year olds that haven’t learned to get a long with each other….but I digress.
Scientists have been warning us that this Corona virus keeps evolving and mutating and unless we achieve herd immunity, we will never be free of it. I recently read a joke on my Facebook feed page that said, “I swear we are fighting two pandemics right now; the Coronavirus and Stupidity.” It looks like we may be in this pandemic awhile longer judging from those few who believe it’s all about their rights that are being taken away. Obviously these people don’t care about the greater good for our society.
Today is the first day of fall and with the transition of seasons it causes me to reflect. A realization that we may never know normal again and if it comes, it will only be a false sense of calm. With the climate crisis banging loudly on our doorsteps, I fear we either choose to don our warmest coats and hats to weather the next storm or find a big hammer to break the glass. I believe I will choose the latter, ’cause I’m holding the vision of a tiny piece of hope lying amongst all that fake snow.
I want to thank you for holding a space of light for me to write this piece.
Over the last year and a half I know this pandemic has touched us all differently and that phrase, “we are in the same storm but not in the same boat,” is so true. No matter where you are along your journey, I hope you will help me lift this hammer to break the glass ’cause I’m tired of having someone else shake the globe.
The only way for us to get out of this storm is together. And the thought that we are together brings me hope.
Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Come out of the cold and sit by the fire. I’ll pour us a cup of tea. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here too, but as the year draws to a close, it’s time to reflect on the past and to tell a story. The story I want to tell is about connecting to those we love, even though they may not be physically present. I hope it warms your heart. If you make it to the end, there is a musical treat for you, provided by my three youngest children.
Are you ready? Okay, sit back and here’s my 2020 holiday story.
Snow Mom
“My mom loved Christmas. She grew up during the depression years with four brothers and a little sister. In those days, getting a few nuts and maybe an orange in your Christmas stocking was a luxury. That time of scarcity left a deep impression on her and her relationship with earthly stuff. I was a young child in the 60’s and early 70’s, a time of endless possibilities; with moon landings, civil rights and women’s lib making great strides through our society, and yet it was a time of lack for my family.
My father drove an Esso oil truck for a living and struggled to provide for our family of six. When it came to Christmas, my parents had to get creative. My mom would save pennies throughout the year and fill our stocking with a few inexpensive toys and candy she had purchased from Woolworth’s, $1.49 day sales. Also, in the weeks leading up to Christmas, long after we were tucked into bed, her sewing machine rattled away, turning old clothes into something new again. One Christmas, she made my sisters and I red, felt skirts, which made us feel so festive and bright and certainly not the poor relations to our richer cousins, whom we met later on Christmas day.
Mom and Dad all dressed up at Christmas timeNot the greatest pictures..above…but this was me in front of our little organ at Christmas time
After my dad died in a truck accident in 1965, even though I was only five at the time, I understood we were in a precarious situation money wise. Still, I do remember mom trying to make Christmas special for us in small ways and holiday music always filled our home, making it feel less quiet and sad.
Mom remarried when I was twelve, and for a bit over a decade, we created endearing memories with my step dad, Bud. Oh, those were precious, fun filled years. One Christmas, Bud told us about a lone fir tree out in the country that he drove past on his way to work every day. He said he felt sorry that it was all alone in a large clearing. One crisp night, when the sky was pitch black and the stars were twinkling, we gathered popcorn strings, nuts, and apples and drove out to decorate the sweet little tree. We laughed and giggled as we decorated, and the tree seemed to shimmer happily when Bud placed our homemade, tinfoil star on top.
We used to do spontaneous, goofy things like that all the time, but mom became a widow again in her late 50’s, when Bud had a sudden heart attack and died. When I grew up, I was doggedly determined to be independent. I fought to have control over my destiny and worked hard to provide for myself and also help mom in little ways.
Although I was only twenty five when Bud passed away, I dug in deep to build a safety net for myself and a place for mom to have a secure place in my life. At the time, my three older sisters all had families of their own and since it was just my husband David and I, we included mom in all our activities and holidays. We had movie and pizza nights, we took her for Sunday drives, stopping for ice cream and of course, she was mainly with us on Christmas day. We loved spoiling her with things she only dreamed of; leather handbags, new coats, and one year we gave her a VCR machine so she could watch movies at home. In the 80’s, that was quite a luxury. I’ll never forget the surprised expression of sheer shock and joy on her face as she opened that gift. “Oh Debbie, Oh David, ” she said over and over again, as she hugged the box to her chest, wonder and delight shining in her eyes.
Another Christmas, we gave her a Kodak, instant camera. She was like a little kid playing with her new toy, snapping pictures of Christmas moments; the turkey being carved, our family assembled around the dinner table and the grand kids standing in front of our sparking Christmas tree. We laughed and laughed as the pictures slowly came into focus and we marvelled over the miracle of technology.
My three sisters, two of my brother in laws and mom (oh David is peeking in there) this is Christmas in our house…wow…30 years ago!!!From left to right, my nephews Owen, Evan, my niece Tara and nephew Simon…where was Nomi… I have no idea?
This Christmas mom will have been gone for nine years. After she passed away in 2012, my three sisters and I went through her belongings, selecting what we wanted to keep and what we decided to donate. I had learned over the years to detach from things, since losing so many loved ones had taught me that stuff just wasn’t important. But when we came to her Christmas boxes, that was another matter. Each ornament, each decoration, held special memories of our Christmases together. I was fairly ruthless, however, as we had a house full of eight children at the time, and I didn’t want to store mom’s memories in our dusty, crawl space.
The tossing was going good, until I spied a little, two inch ornament I had given mom one Christmas. I think I had taped it to one of her presents. It was a small, glossy white snow lady, with a red and green hat and a matching scarf around her neck. Painted on her face were bright eyes and an enormous smile that reminded me of mom when she opened her Christmas gifts. The little snow lady sat on top of a red jingle bell, that looked like an old fashion skirt. Etched into the skirt was the single word,
“MOM.”
I snatched up Snow Mom and tightly held her to my chest as I sobbed and sobbed.
Every winter since then, I’ve carried snow mom in my pocket. Some of her paint has scratched off and her orange nose broke a number of years ago. As my boots crunch along in newly fallen snow, there is a little jingle coming from my pocket.
Jingle, Jingle, “I love you!”
Jingle, Jingle, “I’m so proud of you.”
Jingle, Jingle, “You can do this Debbie.”
Jingle, Jingle, “All is well.”
Mom may be gone physically, but she never truly left me.
This has been a tough year for many of us and I don’t think anyone on this earth has escape some sort of loss, or grief. Even if you have escaped becoming sick yourself, or losing someone you love, you may be, like me, feeling drained and tired of social distancing, mask wearing and the relentless worry that an invisible, dark presence will knock at your door.
When I was pulling out our Christmas decorations the other day and found Snow Mom, it was like a big aha moment for me. She came to remind me that yes, in life there are difficult, challenging times, but it’s up to each of us to help others and try to lighten their load. In that giving of ourselves we find the magic in living. Being alive is a gift and giving of ourselves is the blessing we can spread around the world.
And if the worst thing happens in our lives; we lose someone we love, I hope this story reminds you that we never truly lose people we love. They remain in our hearts forever and we are never without them.
During this holiday season, I hope you listen carefully for the sweet jingle in your pocket. Let it be a reminder that you are never alone and you are always loved!
The End
Thanks so much for coming to visit today. Before you leave, the kids want to play you a few songs. First Will, Kathryn and Victoria will play “Tobin’s Favourite,” an old Irish Folk song and then the girls will play “Ashgrove,” which is an old Welsh Folk song. Then if you watch to the end, you will see Victoria hit the snowman, playing the piano, that my mom gave me for Christmas one year. This was a totally impromptu performance after the girl’s piece was over and I’m so glad I kept videotaping. My mom would have LOVED Victoria’s spontaneous dance, and appreciate that her little snowman is still being enjoyed by her youngest grandchildren. This one is for you mom!
Remember Christmas letters? Those lovely catch up notes that people used to stuff into their Christmas cards. Maybe some people still do, but I think for the most part, this is a thing of the past, like Christmas cards themselves. The few cards that I receive each holiday season, usually only have the signature from the sender under the card’s sentiments. If I’m lucky, I receive a family picture. (Thank you T for that!)
As 2020 comes to a close, I was thinking that I wanted to write a newsy year end letter and while most people would not appreciate several pages of “me and us,” stuffed into a Christmas card, I thought I would publish it as a blog post. That way, those who ARE interested in the goings on in our household can have an update.
Also, since I haven’t posted much this year, it will act as a record for posterity sake; a snippet into our Covid 19 filled year. So if I were to write a Christmas letter this year, this is how it would go……..
Dear family and friends,
I hope this holiday letter finds you and yours well. What a weird year hey? Although we have been living under this Covid 19 cloud for nine months now, it still feels surreal. Thankfully, our family has adjusted well under the circumstances and we all remain healthy. How has your family handled this unusual year? Do you have any insights as to how you think this experience may change us as we move forward? If you have a bit of time, grab a cup of tea, coffee,or some eggnog and join me for a visit.
You may not know this, but in September 2019 David and his partner Eric, bought Westwood Engineering. Yes, I know, kind of huge hey, especially since David worked for the company for over 30 years? Anyway, to keep overhead down and for practical reasons they started working at home, along with their two junior engineers. We felt fortunate that everything had fallen into place so smoothly and thankfully, they were in the swing of working from their home offices when the Covid 19 pandemic hit. David thought things might slow down for the company but actually the wood products industry, in which they primarily work, has been strong and therefore their first year ended on a nice high. Thanks in part to those people who are doing DIY’S, using wood products, and of course to a lesser degree, those who are hoarding toilet paper.
Where on earth are people putting this stuff?
David runs Westwood Engineering from our Den, and for part of the year, in his shorts!
Then another big change for our family occurred regarding our three youngest children’s education. Since our 11 year old son, Will and our 9 year old twin daughter’s, Kathryn and Victoria all thrived learning from home last spring, when school resumed in the fall, we kept them at home. We tried to work with the school district for awhile but there wasn’t great structure and little support. In fairness, the V Learn system had gone from 60 students the year before to 300 students this fall in our school district. The teachers were clearly overwhelmed. Because of this, at term break in November we pulled them right out of any registered school setting and jumped into the deep, scary abyss of homeschooling.
Will adjusted easily to learning from home, although he says that we do WAY more math at home. Kathryn and Victoria during our early learning at home days. We aren’t as rigid with the schedule these days but we still plan as a team what we’re wanting to accomplish.
Although there have been challenging days for sure and tears. (me, not them! ha) it’s working well. Lately, one of the homeschooling perks is being able to work hard in the morning (David too) so we can all go downhill skiing as a family in the afternoons. I love the freedom and flexibility homeschooling offers, as the kids can extend their learning by following their passions beyond the basic curriculum. I think if you were to ask them what their favourite time of day is, they would tell you that they love our walks in nature before lunch. We often head up the mountain to a wild life and bird sanctuary just over the hill from our house, and then after lunch the kids all grab a blanket and curl up by the fire to quietly read together. I love it too!
The books and the peace.
The kids love our pre lunch hike to visit a protected nature area in our neighbourhood.One of the benefits of learning from home is the flexibility it brings. Recently when it snowed the kids went out to play on what would have been a school day. Every day is a learning day and enjoying fresh air and building a snowman is all part of the fun.Our cat Ryuuki has never had so much attention and he’s been lapping it up!
One of the down sides this year was that Grace’s Spring Break, school trip to the U.K. was cancelled. They were scheduled to leave only two days after our Provincial health officer recommended people not travel out of the country. It was such an anxious week for our family. Things were getting worse and worse in Europe and we didn’t know what would happen, but the School District finally cancelled the trip. We still don’t know if she will get any of her money back. The airlines are just wanting to give out vouchers but what good is that if there is no travel allowed. She had worked so hard at the water slides the previous summer to pay for the bulk of this trip, so it was a huge disappointment to say the least. We have consoled ourselves with the thought that at least everyone stayed healthy and she did get a really nice hoodie that said, “U.K. 2020,” which is a real keeper.
One of the biggest benefits of having to stay home, was that David and I finally had time to finish our mammoth rock wall project in our backyard. I call it David’s opus! This project took three years to complete. First we had to cut down and then dig up all the roots from the old plants in the terraced beds. Thankfully, our older boys were home for that summer to help as some of those twenty year old, pine mugho roots were huge!. Then slowly, we took down the two, fifty foot wide landscape tie, retaining walls, which were rotting. We took piece by piece up to the dump in our work horse, Honda Odyssey van. Then the work really began as we went up the mountains to collect the large, river rocks for our wall. I can proudly say that every single rock in our new retaining wall was hauled in and carried by us to our backyard. Okay, maybe our older boys helped here and there, but for the bulk of the job it was David and I.
Another project David accomplished was building a set up steps down the middle of the two terraced retaining walls that leads to the pool….my idea! All through the project David kept saying, “quit adding wagons,” but those wagons made the whole project a custom job in the end. Harrison and Clark spent a summer working as Landscapers and helped us remove some of our large mugho roots. Above is an example of just one plant’s roots! Thanks guys!
I lost track of the dozens of trips we took up to the mountains, but over the last two years we collected enough rocks for David to build two terraced walls, each fifty feet wide by three feet high. In August he placed the last rock and we sang,” Hallelujah!” I then had the immense pleasure of selecting and planting herbs and perennials in all the beds. We even have a water feature, landscape lights and a convenient, extra set of steps that takes us down to our pool now. I have to tell you that the bees were in heaven last summer buzzing around the Lavender, Bee Balm and Yarrow. Also a side benefit is that we didn’t have to go to the gym to stay in shape. Who knew that you just have to build a rock wall to get toned and muscled. A side note for those of you who are interested; the suspension in our Honda van is still great! Go Honda!
Well, that’s it for the family at home but as you know, our family has two strings. A term our basketball playing son Harrison gave our family a few years ago and it’s stuck. Our older four kids and our younger four kids being the two strings. I prefer to think of it in musical terms since our four older kids played the piano, violin and cello together, and our younger ones also play the same instruments. In fact our three youngest kids call their trio, “The Second String.” Anyway, I transgress and have to tell you that the first string, our oldest, are all doing well.
Alyssa turned thirty last spring and is still living in her quaint, little place near the ocean in Victoria. As an introvert, she has been thriving during this past year of social distancing and working from home. She was freelancing as a web designer and spiritual coach, but when the pandemic hit and children were suddenly being educated from home, her previous boss at Sylvan called her up and asked if she would consider coming back as their lead English teacher for their two Victoria locations. This worked out really well as she prefers to tutor one on one or in small groups, rather than in a traditional classroom setting. Also, like us, I think more and more parents will be rethinking the way they educate their children. Teaching is bound to transition to more on line tutoring as a result of this demand. We believe that the old brick and mortar school will be obsolete one day.
Recently, one of Alyssa’s bucket list goals was met, when she published her first book. It’s called, “Invocations to Horizons: Poems of Nature, Magic and Myth.” If you’re interested, you can find this book at Amazon.ca. My Dad would have been so proud of his granddaughter, as his passion was writing too. Also, after years of living in big cities and relying on the bus service to get around, she decided that it was time to buy her first car. With the help of her Auntie B and Uncle J in Victoria, she finally found a cute little Honda Fit to call her own. She says she now feels like a real grown up!
Alyssa, this fall with new little Honda Fit (Thanks Auntie B and Uncle J!!!)Alyssa’s recently published book of poetry
And now a bit about our oldest son Clark. He’s turning twenty eight later this week and is happily looking forward to graduating from the U of A law school next spring. Quick, knock on wood, since he is currently in the midst of writing five intense exams this week. Good thing he likes to read, since each course has pages and pages of notes to review and tomes of precedent setting cases to understand and quote. He remained in Edmonton this year, partly because his summer job was with Alberta’s, Worker’s Compensation Board, but also because he says that living with three other law students has helped him feel less isolated this year. We are incredibly thankful that he has secured a position with, “Dolden, Wallace, Folick,” and will be working out of their Kelowna branch starting sometime next Spring. His beautiful girlfriend, Jessica, is also thrilled that he will return to the Okanagan as her career and family is also here.
Clark and Jess. This picture was taken SUPER early on the day that Clark was returning to Edmonton after his visit home this past summer. It’s not always easy keeping a long distance relationship going but Jess has gone above and beyond. During this trip, Jess went to Edmonton and brought Clark home and was driving him back again. Jess you are amazing and we love you!
Mitchell, our second oldest son, turns twenty five next month and is in Melbourne, Australia. He just finished up a gig working for the Bad Shepherd Brew company whose motto is, “let us lead you into temptation.” Despite that city’s drastic lock down during the pandemic, Mitchell held onto his job as beer is a necessity in Australia! It’s now summer there and he’s working for his roommate, who owns a window washing company named, “Squishies.” He told us during our last visit that they are booked solid, he enjoys the work and apparently it pays really well. He was gearing up to return to Canada in March, since his visa will expire then, but there is a possibility that he will be sponsored either by the Bad Shepherd or his roommate Adam, who is hoping to franchise his company. (I guess they like clean windows in Australia!) Also, while both jobs won’t use his Science degree, it’s handy that he has post secondary education in order to be sponsored. Of course, we miss him dearly, but he lives with a great “mate,” and he has a lovely girlfriend, Niamh, who is simply radiant. So life is groovin’ for him and he’s happy. Isn’t that what we want for our children?
Mitchell and Niamh in Melbourne, Australia
Now you may be wondering what our soon to be, twenty two year old son Harrison is up to. “Not much good,” would be the teasing words from his Dad, but seriously he’s blowing us away with his focus and accomplishments. Who knew that this guy, who I lectured on the way to school each day, about rising to be your best self, would actually take my advice. He’s on the downward slope to completing his Commerce degree from U of Vic’s business school. He just completed a four month Co-op with BCI, out of Victoria and will start his last Co-op in January with a large, international company out of Vancouver. Thankfully, he can work from his home in Victoria. Also, this year he was chosen to be one of only a handful of students to form a team to manage the University’s investments, which is a prestigious opportunity and looks incredible on his resume. I’ll never forget how skilled he was at selling our junk, I mean, ahem, our treasures, during our family garage sales over the years. He was born for business! Who knew I could have saved my breath on all those trips driving him to school.
Harrison with his girlfriend Danielle. This picture was taken at Mystic Beach on Vancouver Island. It’s a bit of a hike to say the least to get to this magical beach. Dani had broken her toe the week before however she somehow made the trek there and back with a smile on her face and with brilliant good nature. Talk about pushing through things when life is tough! We love you Dani!!!
Are you wishing we had only four kids by now? Ha! Our number five, Grace Elizabeth, turned eighteen a few weeks ago and she will graduate from high school next June. It always surprises me how fast our children grow up but yep, she’s turning into a young lady who is busy applying to Universities and planning her life after high school. I think she wants to follow in Clark’s footsteps and attend UBC-Okanagan. It has a good Science program, which is the direction she is moving towards but it turns out she’s a pretty awesome writer as well. Last spring, she aced her AP English exam and has now bagged her first University credit.
We always thought she was destined for medicine, as she loves to diagnose illnesses and this Covid 19 pandemic has heightened her interest in infectious diseases. Lately, she is showing a strong interest in Psychology; mental health specifically. Mitchell caught that same bug in grade 12, as there is an excellent Psych 12 teacher in their high school. Who knows where this interest will take her, but she’s kept many doors open which gives her options. She’s been ruminating about law as well and it may be a good fit for her down the road. She has strong critical thinking skills and boy, I have to tell you she is REALLY good at arguing her case!
Grace turned 18 on December 5th, 2020
What I’ve learned while raising kids is that we can provide all sorts of opportunities for them in order to stimulate their interests and develop certain skills and talents, but in the end it is often fate that intervenes and shapes their future. For us parents, it’s all about letting go and trusting. Anyway, for now, we are just trying to get through these challenging times and hoping Grace can find a nice prom dress.
As I wrote earlier, our three youngest are at home and keeping us busy. Will is in his sixth year of playing cello and the little girls are in their fourth year of playing violin. They both have wonderful teachers who keep things fun and are outstanding mentors. Last week, I video taped the kids playing some Christmas music, which we forwarded to our children’s music school, who will be compiling it and sending it off to ALL of the Extended Care homes in our area. Normally, the kids play in persons as the seniors love having young people around, but this year it will have to be a virtual concert.
If you want to hear a little of their music, scroll to the bottom, as I will link a few of their pieces. Also, this holiday season Grace (on piano) and William (on cello) have been playing a beautiful Christmas piece called, “O come, o come, Emmanuel.” I love it as it’s a piece we have sung during our Christmas Eve service in church. I hope to video them playing together and plan to add that to my YouTube, “Moments of Hope,” channel. SO STAY TUNED….no pun intended, ha.
As I mentioned earlier, our older children all played instruments, several actually since they were in the school band, jazz band and youth symphony. There were many times when it was difficult to keep them going because practising is hard. I’m glad that they persevered, as music is a wonderful teacher. Earlier this year, Alyssa found a piano in Victoria that needed a home and she has been working her way through all the classic pieces that she never had time for when she was consumed with obtaining a certain high level credential during University. Also, Clark took his violin to Edmonton and says that playing relaxes him, even though he’s working on parts of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. He’s asked for violin strings for Christmas, which makes my heart sing!
Anyway, music is and always will be a strong way for our family to connect and don’t you think it’s the Universal language? I hope music fills your home this holiday season!
Victoria, Will and Kathryn play a virtual concert for Seniors
Well, I’m sure your coffee or tea is cold by now and if you added rum to your eggnog, any lovely relaxing effects have worn off. It’s getting late here and I’m up early with these little people, plus I have to drive Grace to school. We are counting down now to the last hours before the holiday break so I must close for now.
I hope that as this year comes to an end, you know that I think of you often and hope you are well, happy and peaceful. Most of all I hope you are healthy. In all ways. This has been such a difficult, challenging year for all of us. I believe when we eventually look back and remember this time, hindsight will show us that this was sadly what the earth needed.
We needed to slow down. We needed to come together and realize that we ARE all connected. We needed to start taking care of our planet. Most important of all, we needed to remember what is truly important and that is being kind and considerate of each other. The Christmas season is a good way to end this year, as it’s the season of perpetual hope and is the time for us to light up the world with love.
“Merry Christmas!” May the light of this season warm your heart and may the New Year be filled with joy, peace and good health for all.
~A successful garden, full of abundance includes diversity of plants, where no weeds thrive~ Lee Reynolds
Thanks for coming to visit my blog today. While I want to chat about harvesting garlic, sharing my strawberry shortcake recipe and growing a productive raspberry patch, there are weeds of racism growing all over the world and I can stand by and be silent no longer; it’s time for me to grab my hoe and start weeding….and sharing my thoughts. What better place than here at Hope’s Homestead. So welcome, grab a glass of ice tea and pull up a chair and stay awhile.
While our kids have been out of school, in isolation, during this COVID-19 global pandemic, we’ve been reading books as a family. After our children’s evening bath and donning of jammies, we settle into our favourite chair in the living room, pull up our softest quilt and take turns reading. Sounds lovely doesn’t it? Except the books we’re reading, fill our living room with a heavy sadness, and with each book, a bit of our children’s innocence fades.
We’re reading stories from the Second World War, shining a light on the atrocities of that time, when six million Jewish people were exterminated. Books like, “Number the Stars,” by Lois Lowry, and “Anne Frank; The Diary of a Young Girl,” take us back to a darker time in history.
Currently, we are glued to the book, “Refugee,” by Alan Gratz. It tells a story of three different children, living in three separate eras, who are all trying to escape war. We haven’t finished it yet but the back cover implies that although “Josef, Isabel, and Mahmoud,” are separated by continents and decades, surprising connections will tie their stories together in the end.
You may be wondering why I’m exposing our children to such books, when there are kinder, gentler genres to read. What I hope my children will pick up after reading these books, is how fortunate they are to live in Canada, where there is excellent health care and education opportunities. I want them to be grateful for all they have been given. I also want them to learn to chant, something that started after Nazi Germany, systemically murdered two thirds of Europe’s Jewish people, during the Second World War. I want “never again,” to be on my children’s lips and in their hearts.
Never Again!
Yet here we are again, in the shadows of this COVID-19 pandemic, the crack against people of colour and racial minorities has split open, triggered by the unjust killing of a black man, George Floyd, who was held down by the neck, under the knee of a white police officer for eight minutes, until he died. In the wake of that murder, another black man, Rayshard Brooks, was shot in the back and killed, while running away from another white police officer.
These deaths come after centuries of systemic violence against racially discriminated black people. In the current climate, where the world has stopped spinning, due to this global pandemic, our eyes are fully opened and if we weren’t aware of what was occurring before, we are now heightened to it. There is no going back.
The crack has been opened.
Never again has to be our chant.
And it’s not just illuminating the plight of black people. Here in Canada, it’s our Indigenous peoples who are the minority and have faced discrimination, ever since Europeans started settling on their land three hundred years ago.
As a white person, I can no longer stand by and do nothing. If we don’t tug on the weeds of hatred and eradicate them, what occurred during the Second World War to the Jewish people, will happen again to the black people, to our First Nations people, or to any racial minority.
What action can I take? On the weekend, I finally decided that I would start writing and a story unfolded. Here is that fictional story inspired by the light my Grandma brought to the world…and to me:
My maternal grandmother, Hulda, loved to pull weeds. She had a large vegetable garden behind her white house, on Mt. Lehman Road, in Abbotsford. While visiting her one summer day, with a twinkle in her eye she asked, “Debbie, do you want to come and see the butterflies?” Excited for an adventure, I stopped cutting families, from the Sears Catalogue, and grabbed her outstretched hand. Once down the back stairs, she picked up a rusty old garden hoe, which had been leaning against the house and as we walked swinging our arms, she pointed out interesting things on our path;
the brilliant, iridescent wings of a dragonfly, the peaceful dance of a swallow tail butterfly and the bright, chirping of a cricket, in the tall meadow grass, bordering the garden.
She looked down at me and said, “each creature has its own beauty and purpose on the earth.”
Once at the garden, she pulled a little teaspoon from her magic apron pocket and directed me to the row of carrots, where she invited me to dig and enjoy. While I sat cross legged, munching on a freshly dug carrot, she stood surveying the garden with a gentle smile on her lips. Perhaps she was taking a moment to appreciate the garden’s abundance, or maybe she was deciding where to start weeding.
Finally, she started rhythmically hoeing between rows in the garden; loosening the soil and exposing the roots of weeds. As she moved along the row and her wake of weeds grew bigger, her smile got softer and she started to hum. The haunting strains of “Amazing Grace,” rode on the breeze and was carried out beyond the garden, on the wings of butterflies.
I was crunching a crisp bean pod, when she asked if I was ready to go in for tea. Always hungry, I jumped up and followed her. She had her arms full of weeds with dirt still clinging to them. Before we went in the house, she dropped the weeds onto a large compost pile at the edge of the garden. “Why are you throwing the weeds in that pile and not in the garbage?” I asked. She smiled at me and said, “Everything has a purpose Debbie, and weeds turn into great soil, which will make my garden even better next year.”
Afternoon tea time was my favourite time of day at Grandma’s. Whoever was visiting would congregate around Grandma’s large kitchen table. The adults would drink coffee or tea and grandma would pour some fizzy orange pop for me. She would lay out cheese, butter, bread and always a big plate of baked goods. There was a place for everyone at Grandma’s table. She would then settle in her rocking chair and as it creaked back and forth, our family would drift into a gentle conversation, filling the kitchen with a peaceful comfort.
It’s a funny thing about writing, but often as the words pour out of me, answers to my questions appear. (I think Grandma visited me in my dreams on the weekend) I now know what I can do in light of all the racial unrest in the world right now.
I can tend my garden. I can dig up my own weeds. I can provide a place for everyone at my table and teach my children to appreciate the purpose and beauty in all things .
Even the weeds.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Before I say goodbye, I thought I would include a great video that I watched on June 21st, which was National Indigenous Day. As a white person, I can hold a light for the voices of Black people, Indigenous people and other racial minorities. It’s not a lot, but if we all start with ourselves, providing a peaceful place for them to be heard, a listening heart, to let their words find a home, then that is a start. Come join me and listen to, “One World, (we are one)” produced by IllumiNative and Mag 7:
This blog post is dedicated to my grandmother, Hulda Adeline, Snickars/Herrling ~ Born September 24, 1892 in Vaasa, Finland~
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Last winter, I felt like a dry piece of cold toast. that no amount of butter or jam could make taste better. Our days were spent whirling from one activity to another like robots on auto-pilot, until they all blurred together with me chanting, “something has to give.”
I knew what I wanted to drop from our schedule, I just needed to get to the end of the children’s school year to make those changes. Then the global pandemic happened and those changes were made for us. It was startling how quickly we went into lock down. Perhaps not fast enough in some parts of the world, but our Province’s health minister, Dr. Bonnie Henry, recognized the seriousness of the situation. At the beginning of our children’s school spring break in mid March, we were asked to stay home and shelter in place. My new mantra was, “this is so surreal.”
It’s been three months since our family went into social isolation. When school started up two weeks ago, we were one of the families who chose not to send their children back to school. We had found an exciting learning groove at home and our children were starting to laugh again. Really laugh! I thought they enjoyed attending school, going to swim club practices, violin, cello lessons and orchestra practices. I’m sure they did but until their world slammed to a stop, they didn’t understand the pace they were travelling. That pace was so fast. they had no time to enjoy moments that made them truly happy.
Those moments were found during the last three months. While our days are still full of at home learning, on line lessons, music practice, Skype visits with family and friends, a new rhythm is beating in our house. It’s a rhythm that makes our feet dance.
Kathryn painting a kindness rock, “Miracles Happen!”Victoria painting her rock, “Believe”
There is time to appreciate the brilliant, fuchsia blooms from our rhododendron, or stop to gently pet the stray cat, “Tabby,” who visits our doorstep each day for a bite to eat. We stop regularly to reconnect several times a day, but our favourite is 3 pm tea time, when we sit in a circle on our front lawn, sipping ice tea and savouring the latest offings from our kitchen’s oven, like warm chocolate chip cookies or cinnamon sprinkled cranberry/orange scones. We deeply inhale the moist air after a rain forest like down pour, or sit quietly at the end of a lovely spring day, watching the sun paint a myriad of gold and pink streaks in the western sky.
Victoria and Kathryn spend time petting and feeding the stray cat that comes daily to our doorstep…she adds to the beauty of our dayKindness rocks painted in moments of quiet…notice the gorgeous rodo blooms behind the rocks!Our kids took time to paint, “kindness rocks,” and then put them on paths around the neighbourhood
Who knew that beauty could be found during this deadly pandemic. That slowing down would be the conscious shift the world needs for real change. I don’t know about you or the rest of the world, but I’m not going back to the rat race when this pandemic ends and it will end, if history tells us anything.
Having less has never meant more to me and I’ve been on the minimalist, non consumer driven bandwagon for a few years now but it’s taken this global shut down for me to really ride it. The beauty in the world can’t be found anywhere, except in “this” moment and you can’t find that moment until you are still.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful….
Welcome to my blog and Hope’s Homestead. It’s nice to see you. If you are new here, yah! If you haven’t been here in a while, you’re not alone as neither have I. Ha! You’d think that with the current state of the world, (everyone isolating at home due to the COVID-19 global pandemic) I’d have nothing better to do than write on my blog, but if you know me at all, that’s not the case.
We are b*u*s*y around here doing things we love. Home is where it’s at people.
What do you think? How are you weathering these times?
At first, I felt rather guilty when the whole pandemic started; as if my wish had caused it. You see all winter the mantra flowing out of my being went something like this; “we need to slow down, something needs to let up, life is going too fast.” It’s the craziest thing to think that the whole world came to a screeching halt just for me, but those were my thoughts in mid March.
The only downside was that our seventeen year old daughter, Grace’s spring break, school trip to the U.K. was cancelled at the last minute. She had worked so hard last summer to earn the money for the trip. In addition, she was taking an English course that totally revolved around all the sights they were planning to see, and all the assignments were geared to the trip.
At this point, although the trip has been delayed until later this summer, we obviously don’t know if international travel will open up. Only time will tell how life will unfold in the coming months but any sadness we felt over the loss of that trip, or not being with our oldest daughter as she celebrated a milestone birthday at the end of March, have been quieted over the news of so many deaths reported around the world. It always surprises me how grief and lose reminds us of what’s truly important.
It was one big wake up call for the earth in my opinion.
I could have become a dweller of dark places in the last two months but thankfully, I remembered why I sign off as “Hope,” at the end of my blog. I remembered my true nature and quickly chose to move towards the light. My oldest sister B says, “there is a silver lining in all of this.” My oldest daughter Alyssa, an English major, teacher and writer says, “it’s like a Dystopia novel!”
Whatever it is….
The silver lining for us, is that in the last ten years our family has been moving in the direction of becoming more sustainable in our day to day life. Last night at dinner our ten year old son, William, observed, “we make just about everything from scratch, except ketchup.” (Watch out Will, if we have a good tomato crop this summer, ketchup’s on the bucket list) Having learned to reuse, make do, grow our own food, cook from the basics, and live more simply, has conditioned us to thrive in a time when so many people are falling apart.
It’s been two months now since the world stopped spinning so fast and our family has a lovely, at home learning groove happen’in, our back forty is newly planted, and it’s time for me to come back to my blog, share a story, a recipe and maybe a bit of hope. If that’s what you are seeking, let this be a place of refuge. Also, I have to share a secret for our contentment and what’s helping our family handle this social isolating gig so well.
The secret can be found in:
Books
We are surviving and I’d like to believe thriving too, because we all love to read.
Well, almost all of us. It’s a process.
Ironically, the month before the kids were out on spring break, their school had a book competition. It’s a yearly tradition at their school to encourage as many children to read as possible. When our older children went to school. they were involved in something called, “The Battle of the Books.” It was a school district affair, where each school prepared teams, representing the various grades. Throughout the spring, there would be zone competitions to see who knew their books the best. Finally, the teams winning at the zones, would move onto the final district competition, which was open to the public at our local performing arts centre. It was quite an affair and a prestigious event to win.
Our son Clark’s Battle of the Book’s Coldstream team (Clark is the one in blue on the left…wish it was a better picture)
Our older children were “Battle of the Books,” champs. Alyssa’s team won the district award two years in a row and Clark’s team won it one year. We were so proud of their accomplishments. In those days, their school, “Coldstream Elementary,” was considered the school to beat. Then a few parents started to make waves. Their children had competed to earn a spot on the team but didn’t qualify, and they were annoyed. We personally didn’t understand their reasoning, since our school also competes in athletics, such as track and field, and only the best move on to compete in the zones and districts in that area. It’s the same if you ask me but they didn’t view it that way, so our participation in the local Battle of the Books ended and our school started an in house competition. Originally, it was called, “Gypsy Breath and Longstocking,” but over time it has been shortened to be just, “Gypsy Breath.”
At first, when our school stopped competing at the Battle of the Books, I was angry, as that was a place where our children who were book savvy, could shine. I didn’t encourage our next in line children to join the competition, which was watered down in my opinion, but then our daughter Grace joined one year without any encouragement from me. I watched her happily fly through the book selections for that year. When she came home with the first place award, I realized it it wasn’t about competition at all.
It was about reading.
Now, I’m all over anything to get kids hooked on reading.
So when…..
Our younger kids came home from school one day to say that they were all going to be on the same Gypsy Breath team, I was thrilled. They called themselves, “The Survivors.” That’s the ironic part; I feel like we are surviving this social isolating pandemic, partly due to our love of literature. When you can enter a book and become lost in another world, you can escape anything. What a gift. Also, while our family has quite an extensive library, we are also living in a time when we have access to any book written on the planet, within a tap on our computers.
It’s mind blowing.
Our children read some pretty incredible books since Christmas in preparation for the Gypsy Breath competition. Kathryn read the most. She read all, but one of the grade 6/7 books (Refugee) and of course she didn’t read the two adult selections. Victoria wasn’t far behind her; reading all the grade 3, grade 4 and almost all the grade 5 books. She also read a couple of the grade 6/7 books.
I was most proud of William though, first to join the team, bringing two of his (non reading) friends along to experience the event, but mainly watching him methodically working through book after book, that I know he wouldn’t have touched otherwise. This for a boy who loves to be active; bouncing on the the trampoline, swimming in the pool, or even playing his cello. To watch him sit quietly in our big, comfy chair in the living room, turning page after page, was a sight to see.
There is hope!
I’m also proud to say that the kid’s “Survivor,” team tied for second place on the night of the competition, out of at least ten or twelve teams. I never counted but the gym was full of kids dressed up in wacky costumes, all joining together with their teachers, to answer the questions that were posed by the “Book Wizard.”
I know you are probably here for the fruit pizza recipe but I want to share the Gypsy Breath book selections with you first, as in addition to great food, it’s the books that are getting us through this difficult moment in time. A time when we are sheltered in place, in order to beat this virus. If you REALLY want the food, (like my son William, who is growing crazy, fast lately) scroll to the bottom. If you can hold off, here are the 2020 Gypsy Breath Books, many of which our family read this spring.
You may have read some of them with your kids or when you were a child:
The Grade 3 Books
The Mouse and the Motorcycle, by Beverly Cleary
When the Soldiers Were Gone, by Vera W. Propp
A Boy Named Bat, by Elana K. Arnold
The Grade Four Books
The Lemonade War, by Jacqueline Davies
Clayton Byrd Goes Underground, by Rita Williams-Garcia
The Chocolate Touch, by Patrick Skene Catling
I Survived the Nazi Invasion, by Lauren Tarshis
The Grade Five Books
The following book, “The Truth As Told by Mason Buttle,” was my children’s all round favourite! They even encouraged me to read it. The main character, Mason, is an endearing child who shined a light on the colour of feelings and inspired me to try to be my best self. It’s a beautifully written book in Mason’s unique, sweet voice.
The Truth as Told by Mason Buttle, by Leslie Connor
Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul-Curtis
The Night Diary, by Veera Hiranandani (Victoria loved this book but then she loves writing in her diary/journal too)
Magyk, by Angie Sage (My older sons read this book…well the whole series actually, and if you are into fantasy, then this book is for you!)
The Grade 6/7 Books
The following book, “Save Me a Seat,” was William’s fav book. He said he could relate to the book’s main characters, Joe and Ravi, as he, like them , has been bullied at school too. As a mom this made me cry. I want to protect my children from these sorts of experiences. It’s when I hear this that I want to homeschool them full time when we get through to the other side of this isolation.
Except, I know it’s often the toughest things we go through in life that develops our character. No amount of reading or virtual experiences can teach us to be strong people. We need to step out of our comfort zones, become vulnerable, and learn how to relate to others. We need to build our own voice and our inner resilience muscle, to become confident individuals. That’s why, after this whole pandemic is over, I’m pretty sure I will encourage our children to return to school, whatever that looks like. I’d like to believe it will be a gentler place and my children will be beacons of kindness and compassion towards their classmates.
William made tons of connections while reading this book and told me that the ending was “fantastic.”
Will gives this book a *****stars rating and two thumbs up!
Save Me a Seat, by Sarah Weeks
Firegirl, by Tony Abbott
The following book, “Bridge to Terabithia,” has been around for awhile. I read it with my older children and it was a Battle of the Books selection during one of their competitions. We read it to our younger children, as a family, last summer and I would highly recommend it for the 8 to 12 year old set….and beyond.
Bridge to Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson
The final book for the children was “Refugee.” It’s on our “to be read list” but it sounds incredible and inspiring.
Refugee, by Alan Gratz
The Adult Books
I loved the following book. The main character Susan’s view of the world was witty and refreshing. Also, after my daughter, Alyssa, spent two years living and working in London, with me vicariously living with her, I loved the whole English vibe, in this Debut novel by Sarah Haywood. I laughed all the way through this hilarious book, which is saying something for me.
The Cactus, by Sarah Haywood
I read a lot, so when I say the following book, “We Were the Lucky Ones,” is the best book I have read all year, that’s really saying something. The book follows one Jewish Family’s experiences during the Second World War years. Even though I read this book months ago now, it’s helped me put this global pandemic into perspective.
It could always be worse, is my thinking, and this family and the Jewish people’s plight during the middle of the last century, has lifted me up and given me hope. If you only read one book this year read this. Don’t let the premise scare you….pick it up, allow yourself to be submersed into history and enveloped in great writing. You are one of the lucky ones, if you take the time to read this book!
We Were the Lucky Ones, by Georgia Hunter
I guess you now see the theme of this year’s Gypsy Breath book selection was all around war and diversity. I’m never failed to be amazed at how life prepares us for every eventuality. Reading these books, in the months before the COVID-19 pandemic hit the world, helped us shift into the mentality of believing we can overcome anything. If the characters in these books, (some of them based on true stories) could overcome life most difficult challenges, we know we can do it too.
Together.
All we have been asked to do is shelter in place. How hard is that with a good book? If you aren’t into reading, then watch a movie based on a book. Last night, we watched part one, of the movie, “Stranded,” based on the book called, “The Swiss Family Robinson.” That book was written by Johann David Wyss, which was first published over two hundred years ago in 1812. Our kids can’t wait to watch the second part and are intrigued over a family shipwrecked on an island. I was telling them that in a way, we are that family now.
Here’s the link to part one if you are interested in watching it too.
Well, enough about books, isolation and even movies, now onto the part that you may be waiting for and the part that is also my son William’s favourite: yummy recipes. The next time you are in the grocery store stock up on fresh fruit and some cream cheese and you can make a……
Fruit Pizza
I actually can’t take total credit for this recipe as it was originally my brother in law D’s recipe. He’s been making fruit pizza for years, long before it became fashionable in the food world. That’s my brother in law D and sister C; they are always ahead of the rest of us. Earlier this year, we got together for dinner and the topic of fruit pizza came up. I knew I wanted to make something special for the Gypsy Breath snack table and thought D’s recipe might just be the thing.
I first tested it out at our kid’s group orchestra, snack table, one week, and it was inhaled in a flash. Those are kids who know good food, and by the way, it flew off the table and into their mouths, with sighs, I might add. I knew we were onto something that would work for book aficionados as well. Okay, so that’s the back story. Now let’s create this divine dessert, in celebration of books, movies, or whatever you are passionate about….anything to survive and stay well.
Fruit Pizza
Ingredients
Crust
1 cup butter
2 ounces cream cheese
11/2 cups sugar
1 large egg
2 tsp vanilla
3 cups of flour
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
Spread
12 -16 ounces of cream cheese
1/2 to 1 cup icing sugar
1 1/2 – 2 tsp vanilla
(The ingredients range depending on the amount of spread you want on your pizza)
Glaze
1 cup pineapple juice
1/2 cup sugar
3 tbsp cornstarch
1 tsp lemon juice
Fresh Fruit
Anything goes but some ideas are:
Kiwi (the bright green is lovely)
Blueberries
Strawberries
Pineapple
Raspberries
Blackberries
Grapes
Instructions
Make the crust by mixing the butter, cream cheese and sugar. (An electric mixer works best) Add the egg and vanilla and combine well. Add the flour, baking powder and the salt.
Basically, you are making one big batch of cookie dough. Once mixed, let dough cool in bowl with a cloth over top for 1/2 hour in the fridge.
Use cooking spray and grease a large pizza pan or a cookie sheet (it doesn’t have to be round)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Bring dough out of the fridge and spread it evenly on the pan using fingers or you can use a rolling pin. I find flattening it with fingers and then rolling it with a pin works best. Bake for 12 minutes, (350 degrees) but watch closely as you don’t want the cookie base to over cook…a light golden brown is perfect.
We made enough for 1 large pizza and one small one which the kids enjoyed when they returned from their evening event…they were celebrating coming in second…and reading a pile of great books…that was the real success!!!
Once out of the oven, allow pizza crust to completely cool. I place it in the freezer for 30 minutes before spreading on the cream cheese mixture.
While your pizza is cooling in the freezer, cut up the fruit into small pieces, thinly slice the kiwi and strawberries. Cut up your pineapple, unless they are already in slices. Think about the design you want to create. If you are making it for a special event, you may be able to make a word with fruit for instance. ( Later, I thought I could have written “Books” with blueberries .)
Once the pizza has cooled and the cream cheese has been spread, you can add your fruit. Any combination tastes great, but this is where the artist in you can flourish.
Once the pizza has been topped with fruit, drizzle the glaze around for the final touch of yummy. Here’s how our pizza turned out for the Gypsy Breath event.
P.S. Serve soon after topping with fruit and glaze, although it’s still yummy the next day, albeit the crust is a bit soft.
Our Gypsy Breath pizza
Every time I make this pizza it turns out different but it’s always amazing!!! Here are some other pictures from our kid’s Gypsy Breath night.. Remember their team was called, “The Survivors.” We had ordered a bunch of buffs for the kids to wear for the event, which turned out to be great masks for them to wear in the early days of this pandemic, when we were just out for a walk in our neighbourhood in case they came across other people.
Their buffs and dirty looking and ripped t shirts completed their Survivor costume.
This is their team’s poster with their team name…showing pictures from the various booksThe top three winning teams got to take books home. Here are Kathryn and Victoria looking at all the books to choose from.
Kathryn and Victoria with their teacher, Ms. Brianne Martin
And so we may be sheltering at home right now, but we are not alone. We are all in this together and if we have books, then we have the world at our feet. Let literature take you wherever you want to go. Fly if you want to.
Thank you for coming to visit today. I hope, not to be a stranger here in the coming weeks. Since we just planted our vegetable garden this week, I do have some images and some gardening stories I’d like to share as well as thoughts on guiding our children at home with their learning.
Stay tuned, stay safe.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
My Dad, Marvyn Derwent Clark, was born in Freedom, Alberta on April 29, 1920, during the last big flu pandemic. It was a time, when almost a quarter of the earth’s population, was infected with a deadly influenza. The Spanish flu, as it became known, was responsible for the death’s of possibly 50 million people and some even estimate that it was as high as 100 million.The exact number is unclear, due to the lack of medical record keeping at that time. What we do know though, is that the Spanish Influenza pandemic killed more people than the First World War, which has been called “The Great War.”
I can’t imagine what my grandparents, Robert and Florence Clark must have been feeling. The First World War had just ended and now the world was facing a deadly pandemic. Pregnant women, babies and young children, were particularly vulnerable and faced a higher risk of flu related complications. Although they must have been thrilled to be expecting their first child, (my Dad) that time must have been fraught with fear and a great sense of trepidation for them.
My Dad’s parents, Robert and Florence (Bob and Flossie Clark) in their garden with their Dahlias
My Dad survived however and even made it through a virulent bout of Scarlet Fever as a child, although it’s believed to have impaired his hearing. He went on to live through the Great Depression, the Second World War, the Cuban missile crisis and finally mourned with the rest of the world, when John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the 35th President of the United States, was assassinated on November 22, 1963. He died before Neil Armstrong walked on the moon on July 20, 1969 and before I turned six.
Dad and his younger brother Elmer on the leftDad in the lower left with his family. Elmer with their dog, and then Gordon Top Row left to right, my mom Ethel and then his sister Elsie, holding my parents first daughter, their “Bonnie,” baby and my big sister…and then his parents Flossie and Bob Clark
He was a son, a brother, an uncle, a husband, a friend to many, and my Dad.
Dad above and below with my mom. I believe this was before they were married
My mom and dad married on January 1st, 1946 a few months after the war ended My oldest sister B was born in January of 1947 and over the next almost 13 years my parents would have three more daughters
If he had lived, he would be turning 100 years old today. (April 29th 2020) I can’t help but wonder what he would think of the state of our world, as we experience something unprecedented in my lifetime; the COVID-19 global pandemic. Although advances in both science and technology have changed the earth tremendously since he passed away, this viral pandemic has reminded us all that we are not invincible. We can still be brought to our knees with the realization that we don’t have all the answers and the only thing that keeps us going is the hope that we will get through it.
My Dad was killed in a company truck accident, fifty five years ago (1965) this coming September. Interestingly, I write this blog post on our Province’s day of mourning for victims who were injured or died in a work place accident. That was the fate of my Dad. My life has been defined by his passing but the older I get, I realize that with him leaving, he taught me more in his absence than if I had had him for my whole life.
I learned from an early age to be independent and behind all my successes was my desire to make Dad proud. Also, from an early age I started searching for the meaning of life, trying to figure out why we come to earth, what our purpose is while we are here, and where the heck do we go when we die. If I had had a normal childhood, my father blissfully intact in our household, I don’t think I would have been a seeker.
After the birth of our last four children, late in my life, the answers to these life’s questions became clear. I know where my Dad is NOW and I know what my purpose is too. My Dad is right here with me and my sisters. He’s cheering us all on and so proud of his grandchildren and great grandchildren. He never left us in the true sense of the word. I also know what my purpose is now; to never lose hope and to remember that loving each other is what it’s all about.
There is nothing more important.
If we can remember these two things; to be hopeful and loving, then the world will continue on. It may never look the same again, as the world surely changed after the last big pandemic one hundred years ago, but I’m hoping that this big shake up, allows us to slow down and take a good look at the path we’ve been walking and realize, what truly matters.
The collective consciousness is shifting and there is no going back. People are waking up and are starting to move in harmony for the sake of our planet and for all living things on our earth. What do you think about that for a 100 year old birthday present Dad?
Pretty cool hey? The other gift I want to give you is a place to record one of your poems that you left behind. You titled it to mom but it was a gift to us, your daughters, as well. I know you had wanted to be a published writer and now you are. Here is your poem:
To My Wife
In the still of the night, when silence overcomes life’s busy noise, heavy and dense on these pages as in my heart, reveal the love, the thoughts and all I feel.
Thru the busy years of the past, never daunted, my love steadfast, heartaches and sorrow, a spectre content to blight the joys, the days, the instant.
My strength in purpose for you alone errors in judgment I must atone, strive ever forward, my hopes ever in quest resolving ever to better, before I rest.
My eyes never so blind, still to see your hopes unfailing in an unspoken plea but the mind and heart not in tune from harshness and reality never immune.
The days and hours stride in remorseless speed diminishing the chances, the moments I need to savour the pleasures, the results of toil conceived in the mind, heart against all recoil.
My desires and love for all of you have been undaunted ever to renew the struggle for contentment and peace when in completion will my thoughts know success.
Misunderstanding and conclusions will prevail as long as man remains in this earthly jail but God gave us prayer and his trust to overcome our problems severe and unjust.
While you lay slumbering in your bed and all the little ones lay down their head up here I sit while far into the night of love and hope for you, I write.
Somewhere on life’s relentless trail in search for happiness I did fail from my heart goes this silent plea give me strength and eyes to see.
Memories I have of father and mother love I shared with sister and brother when you made me your very own did you love me, for me alone.
Maybe life will wash us fast as the tides of the sea and the past to find us on far shores apart will then solace come to a broken heart.
The trail ahead grows dim, I cannot see my heart is heavy, hear my plea grant me the strength to leave behind my children, my wife, my love so blind.
~Marv Clark~
My Dad holding me for a family picture with my sisters, B, to the left, C with the green scarf and J on my mom’s lap.The memories I have of our family in our little town of Hope are warm and loving. For the first almost six years of my life I was marinaded in love…what more could anyone ask for?
So Happy Birthday Dad!!!
I’m ending this post with a link to a short video I found, that reminds me that love never ends, even with the passage of time. Which I think is very appropriate as we celebrate the anniversary of your birth, a hundred years ago.
Here’s the movie dedicated to you Dad. You loved creating home movies and also loved the accordion. This short film reminds me of you in so many ways and also my feelings for this special father/daughter relationship…it goes on and on.
Wow….and if you can stand more, wipe the tears away and listen to a final song in tribute to your birthday.
I say once again…….
Happy Birthday Dad!
My big sister B says that you loved the Tennessee Waltz but I couldn’t find a good YouTube link so I am ending this post with a song that speaks to me….I hope you like it too.
I can’t sleep. A new day is dawning and I keep thinking about another time when I was lying awake under another dark umbrella, wondering if we would ever see the light of day again. Although what we are experiencing right now in the world with the COVID 19 pandemic is bringing us all together, what I went through thirty years ago was a lonely, personal one.
On March 26, 1990, I woke up early in the Vancouver, Grace Hospital, knowing that my first pregnancy was coming to an end. Medical Specialist told us that our baby would likely require a shunt operation immediately after birth, to remove dangerous fluid from damaging her brain, and so her delivery was being induced a month early.
We didn’t know at that time if damage to her brain had already occurred.
The last few weeks of what up to that point, had been an easy, textbook pregnancy, (except for a cold virus I had had late in the 1st trimester) ended in a whirlwind of exams, appointments and a mad scramble to our Province’s high risk maternity hospital. It finally ended suddenly, with the induced, premature birth of our baby girl. Throughout that nightmare, I kept holding onto the belief that somehow things would be all right.
I prayed a lot!
The first announcement we heard in the wee hours of March 27, 1990 after our daughter was born, was by the pediatrician. In the darkened, hushed delivery room he quietly but confidently declared, “she’s a keeper.” My husband David and I both exhaled a long, held breath. The next day, after our daughter had been examined, poked and prodded and an ultrasound had been performed, we were told she would not require a shunt and did not have the condition, hydrocephalus. She had an absent corpus callosum, which had created the dilated ventricles in her brain.
A keeper with an brain abnormality
Our beautiful daughter Alyssa was born March 27, 1990 a month early
During our last consult, with the pediatric neurosurgeon, we discovered that not much was known about this kind of variation to brain development. He assured us that they would follow our case and our daughter would be closely examined for milestone achievements throughout the first few years of life. His advice as he walked us out of the office was to
take her home and treat her like normal.
Whoosh……
I just shook my head as we left his office, looking down at our precious baby bundled in her car seat, I wondered if all of this could have been avoided if I hadn’t had that last ultrasound at 34 weeks. Why did we have to do that last utero check one final time? Seeing her tiny face peeking out from her pink bunny suit, you would NEVER think she was anything other than a beautiful, “normal,” baby.” That diagnoses never left us. Though life found a new normalcy, the words, “Agenesis of corpus callosum,” was a lingering guest in our home.
Alyssa with her Dad, home from the hospital wearing her bunny suitAlyssa fell from the stars and into my arms
In addition to being a new mother, I threw myself into researching everything I could get my hands on regarding stimulating a baby’s brain. Everything I did in that first year was to make neuron connections. I’ve written about it before on this blog, so I won’t go into the details of what we did when Alyssa was a baby but I did want to give you a glimpse into her childhood, so you can get a sense of the pressure that diagnoses held over us all. In an attempt to enrich her development, we exposed her to eighteen years of non stop stimulation.
A big part of Alyssa’s childhood were her stuffed friends and books (with bear and bunny)Alyssa grew up the oldest of eight children…talk about family stimulation!!! Here she is with her brother Clark
Take a peek into the activities she experienced as a child and a teen: “years of swimming lessons, toddler gym time, skating, ballet, and tap lessons, soccer, girl guides, down hill ski lessons, cross country ski lessons (with the school), 10 years of piano lessons, Kumon math classes, art camps, science camps, flute lessons, music theory classes, Irish dance lessons, not to mention the various clubs she was in during high school.
Alyssa selling girl guide cookies to her “Umma”Alyssa with her best friend at her groovy 60’s party
From Kindergarten on, her friends were a circle of high achievers and they were often registered together in the same activities and competed for top grades, festival awards, school recognized accomplishments, which created a tight network of cohorts. They kept busy socially as well, having play dates, birthday parties, and sleep overs together.
In addition to her cohort of friends, Alyssa was the lead in a crew of brothers….here she is with her “Blues Brothers”….when baby number 5 arrived she said she would scream if she got another brother….but finally her little sister Grace arrived
Alyssa was a quiet, graceful, sweet little girl, who grew up into an easy teen. Maybe if she had complained about the over scheduling I may have had a serious look at what we were doing but she was hardly ever sick and seemed to weather it all well. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that all her friends were also really driven. Something I found interesting though was when many of her friends were having diva, drama moments, she kept an even keel. There were seldom any emotional outburst, which should have been my clue that all was not normal.
Alyssa in Grade 2
Clearly she loved to read and she excelled in English but she was also a wonderful artist and she loved to create, sketch and paint. Her piano was the central theme in her life growing up but she also was a wonderfully strong swimmer and loved playing in the family pool in the summer. In the winter, she enjoyed down hill skiing with the family.
Alyssa loved to ski with the family from the time she was little and has a good story to tell of the day she was taken off the mountain by ambulance and landed in the hospital for a few days with a head injury….her helmet saved her life the ER Doctor said
Year after year, she just kept accumulating achievements. She and her school team won the “District Battle of the Books” for two years running, she played flute in the school band, the jazz band and the Okanagan Youth Symphony, she accompanied her brothers on piano as they played at violin and cello festivals, she herself competed in piano festivals and always came first place in the Romance category. She competed in Irish Dance Feis, winning awards.
After seeing the show “River Dance,” in Vancouver Alyssa ditched her ballet slippers and tap shoes and started Irish Dancing. She danced until grade 11 in high school and travelled all over B.C. going to Irish Dance Feis….here she is backstage with her ringlets all ready to go
In addition, she acquired her Red Cross bronze medallion, bronze cross, and finally her (NLS) lifeguard certificate, which allowed her to work during the summers at our local water slide park and various pools in our small town. She also taught piano in high school. In grade 12 she completed her Royal Conservatory Music, Grade 10 level for piano and rounded out that year playing, Rachmanioff’s “Etude Tableaux, Op 33, No 8 in G minor,” on our Performing Arts Theatre stage during the school’s “Juno Night.” (You can hear it below…although sadly this is not Alyssa playing…wish I had been more techy 12 years ago)
By the time Alyssa graduated in 2008, she and her friends were in the top 10 percent of their class for academic achievement and they took the bulk of the scholarship awards allowing them to all head off to their respective Universities of choice.
Alyssa in her graduation prom dress…when all the girls had their princess type dresses for months, she said just before Grad, “mom, we’d better find a dress.” By that time all the dresses were taken in our little home town except this one. We had to take it in a ton for it to fit her….altering it to fit her cost more than the dress!…but she was always more focused on the work than what she looked like She always looked stunning though! Alyssa graduated in 2008 and was excited about her next adventure at the University of Victoria
Did I have any regrets in over scheduling our daughter at the time?
No, not at the time.
When David and I held our tiny daughter in our arms as a baby, we vowed we would do everything in our power to help her succeed in life. As we watched her head off to University with quiet confidence, we thought we had accomplished what we set out to do.
Keep in mind as well, that we were just a product of our time, raising our daughter in the 90’s and early 2000’s. This was not uncommon for many parents at the time. By the time she graduated, people were just starting to talk about anxiety in our children and ask themselves the question….
“What is a successful life?”
(I have since had many second thoughts on raising our beautiful girl and wondered how she would have turned out without us putting so much pressure on her. Did all those activities alter her brain formation? Those thoughts are influencing how I’m raising our younger children now. I may still provide abundant enrichment in their lives but I make it clear that they are not their achievements. They are children of the Universe and it’s time for us to allow them to listen to their inner soul….it’s a fine line we walk)
As Alyssa continued to accomplish everything she set out to do at University; obtaining her BA in English and then her B Ed, we had no idea that she would also spend much of her twenties rewiring her brain from a whirlwind belief system, “that you are “not” the sum of your accomplishments.” After graduating from University, she went to London to teach for two years. During every spare break, she travelled all over Europe, inhaling all the places she had read about and all the places she wanted to see for herself.
During her her time in the U.K. and through her travels her sense of self was strengthened and she started to really shine as she followed her passions in life not defined by others.
She has since returned to Canada and created a comfortable life for herself, living and writing next to the ocean. The waves fill her with tranquility and when she walks around our Province’s historic capital city, Victoria, she says she is reminded of London, which has a similar climate and feel in many ways.
Alyssa in the summer of 2005, always did love being near the ocean
At thirty, (today…yea!) I think she is proud of all she has accomplished. After all, it wasn’t easy. Sometimes. she’s a little embarrassed when people learn about her numerous talents and achievements. She has always been humble. She knows that her accomplishments are not who she is. I may be wrong, but I think if I were to ask her now what’s most important to her, she would say that following her passion to write, to create, to explore, and continue to be a piece of the magic in the Universe, is where it’s at for her today. In many ways she’s pushed herself to the brink and beyond and taught me to believe and trust that we are always on the right path when we listen to our heart.
I think of her as my “Diamond Girl.” Made from Carbon and Pressure, she is my jewel and oh so precious. I often tell her to keep shining!
I know it’s sappy Alyssa but….
You sure do shine!
And so, as the day unfolds and I can hear my younger children start to wake for the day, I’m sitting under a totally different dark umbrella. I don’t know when the storm of this world wide pandemic will end, I can only hold onto the belief that all shall be well. When our daughter Alyssa was born, I was thrown into a personal life struggle to raise her the best I could.
Giving birth also connected me to all the mothers in the world. Who knew that something so simple as becoming a mom would be so powerful. Giving birth connected me to all the children in the world too. They are all mine and now I see that experiencing this global pandemic is just an extension of my heart. We are all connected on this planet and none of us are alone. Our personal identity is shifting as well; we are not what we do, we are not what’s in our bank account, we are not our achievements. We aren’t even our bodies. (or our brains)
I also know that we are going to be okay.
How do I know that? Because Alyssa taught me long before she came to earth, to be brave, to let go and allow goodness to come and when we do that, it manifests into something even bigger than we could ever dream. Alyssa, and the generation of children she grew up with are not perfect but I think they understand that by being individuals and following their own unique talents and gifts that this will allow them to be stronger together.
They’ve got this.
Sadly, due to this whole social isolation thing we have had to cancel our trip to Vancouver Island to celebrate our daughter’s birthday but we will still celebrate it. A Skype visit and a promised trip later in the year, when the environment is healthy to do so. As we told Alyssa last night when we spoke with her, this is just another birthday she will never forget.
None of us will.
Keep shining Alyssa.
You are surely loved.
And to close out this post I wanted to share a link where you can find my daughter on line and also a YouTube video and song by one of my favourite groups to end this post.
Happy Birthday Alyssa!
This one is for you, here are the lyrics and the YouTube video.
Diamond Girl by Seals and Crofts
Diamond Girl – you sure do shine Glad I found you – glad you’re mine Oh my love you’re like a precious stone Part of earth where heaven has rained on
Makes no difference where you are Day or nighttime you’re like a shinin’ star And how could I shine without you When it’s about you that I am
Diamond Girl – roamin’ wild Such a rare thing – radiant child I could never find another one like you Part of me is deep down inside you
Can’t you feel the whole world’s a-turnin’ We are real and… Diamond Girl –
Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
I know it’s the beginning of a spanking new year, but I have a secret; where it’s at is “OLD.” When I was a child, one of my favourite quilts was a patchwork creation. On one side was a soft flannel sheet and on the other, an intricate, selection of various material squares, all sewed together to make a cozy, warm quilt. I especially loved the moss green velvet pieces. My hand would invariably stroke these squares and find comfort there. This quilt, pieced together by my grandmother, Clark, from scraps of old, worn clothing, always made me feel safe and loved. I wonder if she knew the power in her stitches?
I grew up in a generation where everything new was considered chic. In my twenties, newly married, there was a term to describe my husband and I; “DINKS,” which was an acronym for, “Double Income No Kids.” We were proud of our accumulations and we worked hard to acquire more of the same. We grinned when we heard the term DINKS, as if we were in some secret club where we had it all.
But society sold us a bill of goods. A fake lifestyle built on consumerism. At almost thirty, sitting in the house we had custom built, surrounded by interior designed window coverings, freshly home from Hawaii, I looked at my husband and realized our lifestyle was not making us any happier. I remember at the time wondering what more I needed to feel content. My husband had started to hint that he was ready for children and although I was scared to give up my independent lifestyle, I had a sense that we would find joy in becoming parents.
Having our first child was stressful though as we tried to juggle our lifestyle AND be parents. We tried living that way for a number of years and finally, when we decided to have our third child, we both agreed that something would have to give. I was so tired of juggling work and our home life and trying to have it all. The something that went, was my career.
I was so busy for years mothering our children that I didn’t have a chance to really look at that decision. but it was the BEST thing we ever did. We were forced to change our lifestyle and become more creative with how we spent our money. I discovered that was one of the keys to HAPPINESS.
“At our core as human beings, we are creators, not consumers. ”
~Lee Reynolds~
I’ve been home with our children for over two decades now and while there have been many stressful situations financially, I know that experiencing difficult times has taught us to appreciate the simple moments in our life. For me, being there at the end of our children’s school day with warm cookies fresh from the oven, lighting a candle and holding hands in prayer before our meal, cuddling with our children at night while reading a good book, have been my happiest moments.
Our youngest daughters asked for an empty box for Christmas…they are beaming! Reading by the fire is a simple pleasure our family enjoys
No amount of money can buy these moments.
This past Christmas was another good example where we stretched ourselves to give our children some carefully thought out gifts. The BEST gifts were ones we made ourselves. My husband David made our oldest daughter a headboard and base. It wasn’t fancy, but it suits her quaint sea side home. He also made our younger twin daughters a two storey, Veterinarian clinic, since they have a collection of small animals and are both passionate about caring for pets. (Kathryn aspires to be a Vet one day)
Alyssa on Christmas morning with her new mom made pillow and Dad made headboard….her Christmas p.j’s with a broken gingerbread man says, “Christmas cost me an arm and a leg!”….but not really….I’m thinking those Christmas jammy bottoms are going to look great on a patchwork quilt someday, ha!My husband David enduring the cold garage to built the twins a vet clinic and our oldest daughter Alyssa a bed…headboard to the left.Christmas evening….a quick snap of the Veterinary Clinic….we call our house, “Lakelin Reach,” and that is where we got the name for the clinic. The lower floor has a check in desk with folders all ready to be filled in for incoming pets…there is a bench for patients people…and upstairs is a stacking cupboard for the recovering pets. Kathryn and Victoria can’t wait to put their white coats on and play vet
Then when I was making my Christmas pillow covers for the family room, I made our oldest daughter a set of black pillow case covers for her guest futon. Last year, we had given her two pillows but she hadn’t bought a set of pillow cases because as she told me, “mom they are expensive.” In addition, I made her a Christmas pillow to go with this set.
With my computer printer I was able to print off the “MERRY AND BRIGHT,” sentiment on the pillow and then sew it on the pillow. The set of black pillow cases were also handmade from the Jacquard table cloth I bought at our local “Scattered Goods,” store!
While we bought new things for our children’s Christmas presents, I found the greatest joy in making these items. From the smile on Alyssa’s face on Christmas morning, I know she will treasure the things her parents made just for her.
Another thing I did was re-purpose our youngest daughter’s old Christmas dresses. They had seriously outgrown the top but as I folded the dresses and was about to put them in our donation box for our local thrift shop, I realized the skirt on the dress was very full and quite long. With a quick snip, taking off the bodice, and folding and sewing over the waist band , I turned the sweet, red plaid dresses into cute little Christmas skirts. I think I was channelling my mom because she used to make outfits for her four daughters out of old clothes. One Christmas she made us all matching red felt skirts.
These Christmas dresses have been well loved and worn for several years now….here’s a mom tip….buy your daughter’s dresses big….the tie in the back pulled them in for years The little girls have outgrown these dresses…at least the top half of the dresses….hmmmmm, how can I remake them so they can still enjoy them?Voila….new skirts and I’m thinking they will make great Christmas pillows or pieces for a Christmas quilt in the future…re-purposing is where it’s at
The girls were so happy as they had loved their dresses. There is a beautiful black velvet band with a crystal piece on the waist band that actually stands out more now that the piece is a skirt. And the skirts are so versatile depending what you pair them with. They even wore the skirt over their solid black music, concert dresses that were getting a bit short. Voila, a new outfit!!! (Plus it was nice and warm when we went to church on Christmas Eve which was snowy and cold in our part of the world!)
A quick snap before we head off for church on Christmas eve
Inspired with these homemade creations and also re-purposing the girls dresses into skirts made me want to go on the hunt for “old,” things and so at the end of our Christmas holiday, my two older daughters and I enjoyed an afternoon sleuthing through antique shops in our little town and then we stopped and had a lovely tea break at our local, “Bean to Cup,” cafe. Walking around the antique shops, seeing many things from my childhood, like a 1960’s metal dollhouse, made me realize that I’m getting old.
These things are now considered ANTIQUES! and yes, I’m well over 50 now and I guess I’m considered an antique too. If you are there too, you will understand how bizarre this feels because I may be old (biologically), BUT I don’t feel old.
And what makes me feel young, is creating. Always having new ideas, new dreams, new ways of living, and turning the things around me into new re-purposed items.
Alyssa and Grace and I touring antique shops after Christmas
You could say, I am even re-purposing my life. Shifting and changing with the seasons brings me so much joy and caring for the earth while I’m at it restores my soul.
So as the New Year unfolds, I’m looking for old. I’m looking for character filled items to surround myself with, and character filled people too. I know I’m not alone in looking at my belongings and re-purposing what we own as I was talking to my oldest sister this morning and she told me that one of her goals for the New Year is “not” to buy any clothes, shoes, etc. She is going to make do with what she has. Way to go, B!
Shopping in our own closet and looking at things in a new way, perhaps remaking them is creative and fun….and good for our earth…it’s the new chic!
I hope a warm, old, quilt, made from our most comforting memories covers us all and we realize, the simplest things bring us the greatest joy.
~Lee Reynolds~
And we are happy together.
Talking about old and being happy together, last week our son William came home from his cello group practise, and shared one of his “new” orchestra pieces. I had to laugh when I heard it as it’s a song from my childhood. It’s a catchy tune and everyone in our house is now humming it. I wonder if you know it? Check out the following link to the YouTube video, “Happy Together,” by The Turtles. It’s old and new! Come sing along with us.
Oh that was fun and reminds me that music is another simple thing that brings joy and all of us together. Signing off for now, while singing, “Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, babababa, baaaa, ba, ba, ba, baaaa…. “Happy Togetherrrrr.”
Happy New Year from our family to yours…May health and happiness find you in 2020
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Christmas is almost on our doorstep and I’m travelling down memory road once again, thinking of my father who has been gone for most of my life. I’m also thinking of my son Mitchell, who is on the other side of the world and will be celebrating Christmas in Australia this year. As I decorate our house for Christmas, putting garland and lights on the wooden banister, there is a silent watcher. One day this past fall, as I moved quickly through the living room, I caught a glimpse of our son Mitchell’s cello standing in the corner. It spoke to me saying, “tell the story this Christmas.” And so, as this is yet another winter without my father, and one of our first holidays without Mitchell at home, I thought I’d share the story I wrote about both of them….and the cello that links them to me.
Without further to do, here it is:
The Call of the Cello
My father was a man’s man. He drove truck for a living, could swear with the best of them and coached hockey, with a warrior’s heart. He was also a romantic. He wrote poetry into the wee hours of the night. We’d be lulled to sleep listening to him tapping away on his old Underwood typewriter, while his fragrant, woodsy pipe smoke settled over us, like a warm, patchwork quilt. On Saturday night, when Dad started tuning his violin, my three, older sisters and I knew we were in for a laughter filled evening dancing, singing and clapping. The night always ended with a melancholy tune that would linger long after the last note ended. After Dad died in a truck accident when I was five, our house was hauntingly silent, like a big wad of cotton batten had been stuffed into every room. Since then, I carry memories of him hidden in a box, deep in my chest.
Sometimes music lifts the lid.
The year after Dad died we moved from our little town of Hope to the larger city of Chilliwack. Our house remained dark and quiet until I started playing piano at age seven. I took lessons for two years and practised diligently on our small, three octave organ, but it wasn’t long before I had to pretend to play notes that weren’t there. There wasn’t money for a real piano. There was hardly money for lessons. Besides, my sister J, who had been taking ballet lessons, was showing natural talent. She would walk around the house like a Prima ballerina with a book on her head, and while washing the dishes suddenly drop into a deep plie. No, there was definitely no money for a piano. I don’t remember being overly bothered at the time. I joined our church’s youth choir and got involved with anything musical offered at school.
But as childhood memories often do, they influence the choices we make as parents. When we started our family, I was emphatic that our children have their choice of extra curricular activities. While they chose everything from Irish Dance to Tae Kwon Do, the consistent thread that wove through our children’s lives was a musical one. They all chose an instrument, several in some cases, and we made sacrifices to give them all lessons. After school, our house was a cacophony of sound; piano, violin, flute, sax, guitar, drums, to name a few but for some reason, it was when our son Mitchell played his cello, that I was touched the deepest.
One evening, as I was preparing dinner, Mitchell started to practise his cello. Scales first, steadily travelling up and down the fingerboard. Then he started to play an achingly beautiful piece called, “The Swan.” Low, deep resonating notes, contrasted with heart breaking, high phrases that left me in tears. I could feel my father’s presence in the doorway, between where Mitchell was playing in the living room and where I was in the kitchen.
My father was beaming.
One by one, our older children left for University. A year and a half ago, Mitchell completed his Science degree. Last March, he decided to follow a dream he had for many years to visit Australia. Without knowing anyone, he left on this big adventure and is currently turning newly met friends into family. This past fall, I was thinking how life would be this Christmas without Mitchell and one day, as I was busily cleaning the house, I spied his cello. A warm, brown elegant piece of wood, standing silently in our living room, like a sentinel observing all the hectic activity in our house.
I pass the cello dozens of times every day without giving it a thought but suddenly it called to me. Its quiet presence spoke volumes and I felt a deep loneliness for Mitchell. From the moment he was born, he was an easy baby and he grew into such a happy little boy. His big goal every day was to have a good time but that was often difficult with a mom who had other ideas. I pushed our kids (and often still do, habits are tough to break) to work hard, to be the best they can be. I’m realizing now that their best was just in “being” themselves.
Mitchell has been a good teacher!
The cello also called me to remember my father. The few memories I have of him are also fun loving. He just wanted to have a good time in life too. His smile is something I remember the most about him. It may be too late for me to “BE,” the best mom for our four older children, since they are now in their twenties but listening to the cello this fall has reminded me that creating our life’s opus takes a lifetime and I hope I’m not quite done yet.
There’s still lots of music in our house. Our four younger children have all followed in their older siblings footsteps. Our sixteen year old daughter, Grace, plays piano and our youngest daughters, Kathryn and Victoria, who are eight and are twins, play violin. Then, like an echo left by Mitchell, our youngest son William has chosen to play cello. He started playing four years ago, when he was six, and is quickly out growing his current cello. At his last lesson, his teacher asked me if we still had a full size cello in our house, as he’s almost ready for it.
The other day while the kids were practising their music, I was at the kitchen table dabbling with my writing. I heard some rustling coming from the living room and then a familiar greeting, from an old friend filled the air. It vibrated with a lingering, ringing note. Dropping my pen I went to investigate. William was seated with Mitchell’s big cello hugged close to his chest, the bow, gently resting on the strings, was getting ready for another stroke. Will smiled up at me and said, “I’m just seeing if it fits me yet.” I didn’t respond, I just nodded and smiled back. I could feel Dad in the room grinning too and when Mitchell hears this story, I know he will be glad to share his cello with his brother.
Because when the cello calls you have to listen.
~The End~
Our son William (centre of picture) at the Carriage House Orchestra’s Christmas performance at the Rotary Carol Festival….Christmas 2019…next year he will be playing the bigger “Cello.”
Dear family and friends, I hope you enjoyed my Christmas story this year and as the season of light arrives, you and your family have a joyous holiday. Before I close, I want to share a song I first heard years ago when we took our children to see this movie in the theatre. The music and lyrics are the PERFECT way to end this post. The song is from the movie, “The Chronicles of Narnia, Prince Caspian,” and is called, “The Call, (no need to say goodbye)” One of the phrases is, “I’ll come back when you call me,” and if you are ever missing anyone, or have lost anyone, I think those words will resonate with you, for all we have to do is remember, and our loved one is with us again.
Wasn’t that amazing!!!
Going to Australia…”It started out as a feeling, which grew into a hope,”…music from “The Call.”Merry Christmas Dad! “No need to say Goodbye!” The magic in the box is that we are always together when we want to be
A wonderful way to say, “Merry Christmas to all….to my sweet son Mitchell in Australia…I’m soooo proud of you!!!! and to remember my Dad…love you always….I’m your opus!
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! Much pleasure thou can’st give me; O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! Much pleasure thou can’st give me; How often has the Christmas tree Afforded me the greatest glee! O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! Much pleasure thou can’st give me. ~Traditional German Folk Song~
Welcome back and Happy Holidays!
How’s the Christmas decorating going in your house? Do you have your tree up yet? Today, I wanted to share the story of the search for our 2019 Christmas tree, for it was fraught with indecision. With our thoughts going towards creating a simpler Christmas, with a less consumer driven bent, we went back and forth over which path to take.
Artificial tree, cultured tree, Christmas farm tree, or no tree at ALL!
Gasp!
Before I travel too far into this story, I thought I would share what I discovered about why we put up Christmas trees anyway. Where the heck did this tradition begin? Bringing evergreens into the home at this time of the year has gone back centuries, but it wasn’t until the 19th century, when Prince Albert, (Queen Victoria’s husband) who was German- born, brought his childhood tradition, of the decorated Christmas tree, to England. Soon every home in Britain had a tree bedecked with candles, sweets, fruit, homemade decorations and small gifts.
Prince Albert, German born, brought the tradition of Christmas Trees to his wife Queen Victoria and to the rest of Britain in the 19th century
And with that, a Christmas tradition began.
Going back even further, it’s believed that Martin Luther, the 16th-century Protestant reformer, first added lighted candles to a tree. While he was walking home one winter evening, composing a sermon, he saw a breathtaking sight; stars twinkling brightly through the evergreens. Wanting to share this beauty with his family, he brought a tree into his home and set lit candles among the branches.
As the shortest day of the year approaches, when darkness prevails, it’s understandable that we want to wrap ourselves in light. Travelling even further in time, way back in history in Northern Europe, the mysterious Druids, the priests of the ancient Celts, also decorated with evergreens as a symbol of everlasting life.
In my personal history, my family always had a real Christmas tree. Today I spoke with my oldest sister B and she travelled down memory lane with me, reminiscing over Christmases when our Dad was still alive. The family would all pile into the big, old Buick and head out of our little town of Hope and into the woods. My Dad, Mom and three older sisters would all tromp through the snow looking for that elusive Christmas tree. B said that Dad was choosy too, so sometimes they had to hike for a bit.
Our Christmas tree in Hope…probably 1964…our last Christmas with Dad
That story reminded me of the movie, “Christmas Vacation,” when the character, “Clark Griswold,” (played by Chevy Chase) took his family on a winter quest to find the perfect Christmas tree. Finally, when everyone was freezing to death, the dad, Clark, sees THE tree at last. The choir starts to sing and the tree glitters brilliantly. That’s when their youngest son, Rusty, asks his Dad, “Did you bring a saw?” If you want a good laugh, click the link below. The clip is entitled,”The Griswold’s Christmas Tree.” This movie came out thirty years ago and is one of our family’s traditions, as it heralds the Christmas season into our home.
I was young when Dad died but I do have flashes of memory from our last Christmases together and the Christmas tree played a prominent part in the joy and excitement I felt. Of course, in those days, the tree industry was not the massive commercial industry it is today. There were no Christmas tree lots or even artificial Christmas trees in the stores. If you were to drive around our little town at Christmas you would see freshly cut fir trees standing smack dab in the middle of everyone’s “picture window,” decorated with balls, silver tinsel and shining brightly, with colourful lights.
A picture of me in front of our organ and our decorated mirror
It was a simpler time.
My Dad, sister J and me in the kerchief…precious times with our Dad
Our tree was far from what people would call perfect these days. It filled our tiny living room with long branches that were sparsely spaced, but oh the scent of that fragrant fir, fills me with memories of Christmas to this day.
The first Christmas tree I had as an adult was an artificial tree. Let’s call it what it was, a fake tree. I’ll never forget being five months pregnant with our first baby and going to our local Eaton’s Department Store and choosing the tree they had on display. I also bought boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations to match the decor in our newly built house. (lots of pink and seafoam green, ugh now!)
Our first Christmas tree came from Eatons Department store and was an artificial tree….December 89…waiting for our first baby to arrive in (March)
What made it special as I look back now, was having my mom come over and help me decorate. She loved our new house and all the matching ornaments since most of her life she had had to make due and be careful with her money. That Christmas, the joy I felt was from the anticipation of waiting for our new baby and decorating my first Christmas tree with my mom.
My husband D was out of town when mom and I decorated the tree…he loved it!Mom always made Christmas so fun and knew it was all about family…she spent many Christmas mornings with us for years….our cat Ninja loved mom…but not the flash in the cameraOur family Christmas ’89…my sisters, their partners, and mom in the back right cornerOur beautiful little kids… Christmas ’89…Merry Christmas to my niece and nephews….where is my youngest niece N?
Once our children started to arrive and our family grew, we continued to put up our pre-lit fake tree in the living room. Having young children and a cat meant that I had to decorate the tree myself, ensuring all decorations were above cat’s paws and pudgy toddler’s hands.
Knowing we wanted to create lasting memories for our children, we decided early on to take them out to choose a real Christmas tree. For many years we went to a local gardening store, that turned their whole interior space into a Christmas wonderland. Our children excitedly helped us choose a cultured tree and then we would allow them to pick a keepsake ornament as well.
A keepsake cello ornament for our son MitchellOur son Harrison arrived on Dec 19th 1998…this is his baby’s 1st Christmas ornament
Once the tree was set up in our family room, the children were allowed to decorate as they saw fit. In addition to the keepsake ornaments, they filled the tree with decorations they had made at school. Over the years this tree got very full. Some years we would make popcorn strings for garland. A few years ago, our younger children made dozens of white paper snowflakes and colourful chains. When I looked at our artificial tree with all the matching ornaments and compared it with the real tree with all the handmade ornaments, I bet you can guess which one I liked better.
But as family change and grow, they also evolve and with the arrival of our youngest three children came a heightened environmental awareness. I know ironic hey! Here we were over populating the world with children and suddenly we were hyper focused on the footprint we were leaving. Once our youngest were out of the baby stage and I had more energy, I started to critically look at each aspect of our lives. When Christmas rolled around, I decided I was sick of our fake tree.
It screamed of plastic to me and didn’t represent my changing values.
In addition, it was a pain to bring in and out pf storage, it was difficult to assemble and the twinkling lights, all wired into the branches, were not all twinkling any longer. I was thrilled, when at our last garage sale someone felt they had found a treasure in our tree. A lot of our fancy Christmas tree decorations went with that tree. Goodbye pink and seafoam green ornaments!
In the last few years with minimalism becoming more popular, many people are reevaluating each aspect of their consumption and possessions….the Christmas tree is also being scrutinized asking themselves, “do we buy fake or real this year?”
As our old artificial tree left our property, being hauled up our driveway in a big box by two people, I felt a sudden sense of freedom. It’s funny hey, how a fake Christmas tree can lay the foundation for your family’s traditions, values and also once gone, give you the space to create a richer life.
A simpler life.
Now I had space in the storage area and space in our life to create new traditions…..but what were they going to look like?
Several years ago now, we started a new tradition of going up into the mountains and cutting down our own Christmas tree. The glistening snow, the scent of pine, cedar and fir, the fresh, crisp air all contributed to create that old fashion feeling I remembered from my childhood. I thought I was onto something, certainly it got us away from the consumer driven industry but my concerns for the environment had me thinking twice about our decision to cut real trees.
I wanted to plant more trees and not cut them down.
As I shared some of my concerns with my sister J recently, she told me how she and her husband B, visit our local municipal hall at the end of Earth day each April and then plant the seedling trees on their property. That got me thinking about how we could go up the mountains and plant a few trees each spring that would more than replace the one(s) we cut each Christmas. I was moving closer to knowing where we would get our tree from this year but I still wasn’t 100% there yet.
At the end of November and into December I stayed busy decorating our house with evergreen boughs from our yard, pine cones and dehydrated oranges. I made festive pillows and hauled all of our keepsake Christmas decor out of storage and decorated our house with twinkling lights and garland.
Everywhere we went we saw trees….here at Canadian Tire there is a Trinity Valley tree lot….do we purchase our tree and support a local industry?Buying the kids new skates we found more trees…the one on the right plays music too….seeing all these perfect trees all lit did not bring me joy…in fact I felt a bit nauseous when I saw the prices and thought about how many people we could feed with the price of one of those trees….I was getting closer to knowing which way I wanted to go this year.
When I brought out the nativity set, passed down from my parents, it pushed me closer to the direction I wanted to go with regards to finding our tree. The wooden stable had been built by my Dad. He had stained it and even put little bits of straw in the animal’s feeding troughs. Above where baby Jesus would lay, he had even wired in a large bulb so the baby would shine brightly. (I’m looking for a large bulb to replace the old one which burnt out ages ago…they don’t make big Christmas bulbs like this anymore…everything is LED) My mom had filled the little stable with a little plaster nativity set, probably from Sears. I loved the nativity set as a child and as I set each figure in it’s place, I knew I wanted to recreate, a simple, REAL, Christmas for our children.
My Dad made this stable and my mom found the nativity set pieces….a reminder of simpler Christmases from the past and what Christmas means to me….A Baby, God’s love and everlasting life
Then driving home in the dark one early evening, my ten year son William and our twin, eight year old daughters, Kathryn and Victoria, were noticing all the beautiful trees decorated around our little community. “When are we getting our tree mom?” they all chimed. I shared with them my feelings over not wanted to cut down a real tree this year. Then William, in simple straight forth language said, “but mom, won’t we have the tree chipped after Christmas and don’t they turn that into the stuff for your garden?”
That was it! We were going real and the tree would continue to live on helping to grow other things, in my garden and my neighbours gardens.
So after weeks of going back and forth weighing our options, we finally decided that we would head up the mountains once again for our tree. Last Sunday, we all dressed warmly, filled a large Thermos with hot cocoa and crammed a container with Christmas cookies. Then we piled into our old fashion, Honda sleigh and sang Christmas songs all the way to the mountains.
” O Christmas Tree, o Christmas Tree Your boughs can teach a lesson That constant faith and hope sublime Lend strength and comfort through all time O Christmas Tree, o Christmas Tree Your boughs can teach a lesson”
From the inside of the van, a quick snap of the road we travel up into the mountains
It was a beautiful, blue sky, cold day when we went up the mountain and we weren’t alone. When we hit the logging road, where cutting trees is legal with a permit, there were several families like us, choosing their Christmas tree. We drove slowly up the road, the kids and I both exclaiming, “oh there’s one,” ” and there’s another.” When we came to a stretch where there were several choices, we got out of the van and tromped up and down the road.
The kids, just like their grandpa Clark were careful in their selection
Finally we narrowed the choice down to a large thirteen foot tree. It was perfect! Before David cut the tree though each of us touch the tree and we said a little blessing of thanks. (p.s…D left a good stump so the tree could send an off shoot in the spring)
O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree how lovely are your branches.
While David cut and wrapped up the tree, the kids climbed the hill above us. By the time the tree was safely in our van the kids were at least fifty feet up the hill. Their voices and laughter echoed in the crisp air.
If you look way up the hill you can see the kids with their little Santa hats on“Come on down kids, we are having some hot cocoa” I yelled. You should have seen them scramble down the hill….I think William was first to make it down.
I finally lured them back down by waving the Thermos and container of cookies. They slid and skidded, laughing all the way down the hill and finally plopped onto a snowbank to have their treats. We clicked our cups of hot cocoas in celebration of finding our 2019 Christmas tree and while enjoying the moment, several cars and trucks carrying trees too passed us, honking and giving us the thumbs up as they passed with big smiles on their faces. I felt like we were a secret community of people who had all found the real joy this holiday season.
It was a magical experience. It took me right back to my childhood when life was simpler and everything seemed brighter. The Druids knew what they were doing when they brought evergreens into their temples as a symbol of everlasting life.
Perfect…a bit tall but now we had some extra branches to decorate the attic withI snapped this picture the evening we put up the tree….Grace was playing the piano as I made dinner so I often close the door otherwise it’s really loud…but the lights glowed beautifully through the french doorAnother pic after the tree was finally installed….the simple things, like a tree, a fire, family and a good book make the Christmas season specialOur angel touches the roof and the branches fill the whole corner of our living room…this is a perfect tree. I saved some baby’s breath and hydrangea to fill in between the branches. I put the lights on and then the kids and I decorated the tree….it’s still not totally done. When the older kids come home next week I hope they will put some popcorn garland and some new paper snowflakes on the branches. NOTICE…the toys hanging off the bottom branches for our cat Ryuuki. The kids insisted on it!
How about you? What brings you joy? What memories from your childhood linger and how are you creating those for yourself and your family this holiday season?
As you think of Christmases past, click on the link below and hear the song, “O Christmas Tree/ Charlie Brown Christmas.”
Oh that was fun and also took me back to my childhood. I always loved A Charlie Brown’s Christmas special. I want to “Thank you” for coming to visit today. As we move closer to the winter solstice, may your heart be filled with light and joy. May the simple gifts of the season come to you and your family.
Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Blessing from Hope
P.S. If you wanted to know where our daughter Grace was in the Christmas tree hunt this year, the night before we went up the mountains, she had had her best three friends over to celebrate her 17th birthday party. Since the girls had stayed up into the wee hours of the night, she opted to stay home and work on her piano, do her homework and NOT tromp through the snow, but she was with us in spirit and appreciated the tree when we brought it home. Here’s a picture from her FAMILY birthday party
Happy 17th Birthday Grace…..December Babies are the best!Instead of making cards, we have been writing sentiments on our blackboard….the cake on her actually birthday was a tiramisu cake…but for her friend party I made the chocolate mocha cheesecake…the recipe is in my dessert section of my blog…yummy!
Have you seen those decorative Christmas pillows with whimsical quotes and images? Last Christmas when I was in Homesense I saw the throw pillow of my dreams. It was white and had the word, “Hope” in gold glittery letters. In my mind I had images of an all white farmhouse, with white walls, white furniture, white dishes, and that pillow would have looked PERFECT on my white sectional….the one I didn’t have.
Yet!
Notice in the picture above the pine cones….which I wrote about recently in my blog, “Gloves and Pinecones,”
I have often thought about that pillow. I could have picked it up, although my husband D was with me when I saw it and he often reminds me of my minimalist path when I start vibrating in the household furnishing section of stores. We did not buy it. The thought of it, however, has stayed with me since last Christmas.
I believe the Universe shows us things that we might, or might not want to manifest in our lives. The things we want to manifest are TOTALLY within reach. All we have to do is;
Ask and you shall receive,
Seek and you shall find,
Knock and the door will be open unto you. ~Matthew 7:7~
(sometimes the timing, or what we eventually receive may be a bit different than what we ask for….but trust that it’s coming!)
A few posts ago, I started talking about creating a simpler Christmas, one that was less consumer driven. I’m proud that we have stayed true to our intent, decorating with nature inspired items, really thinking before we made any purchases and moving towards experiences over things. It was when I looked at our family room though, with it’s extremely well worn brown, leather sofa and love seat, dark wicker chairs( with faded cushion) and dark wicker coffee table, that I decided the whole room needed a face lift. This is after all where our family spends all their time together.
This is our gathering room.
I started by taking a picture of the family room and tried to look at it with a critical eye. An eye that had never seen the room before. This was a good exercise and I immediately knew the dark wicker had to go. Thankfully, the weather wasn’t too cold and my husband D was not too busy, so he agreed to spray the wicker chairs and coffee table for me in the garage.
Here are the wicker chairs that I bought from Pier 1 years ago…the cushions were so faded…the coffee table in the foreground is wonderful as it stores all our games and puzzles
While he was busy repainting the dark wicker, I decided the pillows needed MAJOR work. I could have gone to our local fabric shop but I knew that buying material was going to cost a small fortune. Instead, I went to our downtown dollar store.
It’s not a chain, dollar store, so it has unique items in it. The store is called “Scattered Goods,” and there is something there for everyone. Do you have one of these in your town? It’s the kind of store that is piled from the floor to the ceiling with STUFF and you could spend the whole day roaming the aisles and not see it all. While there, I found two large Jacquard dining room table clothes (one black and one red) and a half dozen red plaid dish clothes. I also picked up some red and black felt squares. I found a package of gold bells as well, since D and I had just watched, “Its a Wonderful Life.” When I hear bells ringing, I believe angels are getting their wings.
I wanted to hear bells ringing all through the holidays!
The table clothes were $13.99 each but they were huge so I knew I could make quite a few pillows from them. The plaid drying dish clothes were an amazing deal at only $1.29 each and the cotton is quite heavy. They would make perfect pillow covers. The felt was only $.39 cents a sheet and the bells were a bit over a dollar. I took my loot home and gathered all my old worn out pillows and started taking off their pillow covers.
One evening after the kids were tucked into bed, I pulled out my sewing machine, set it up in front of the T.V., put on my favourite Christmas movie and started sewing new pillow covers.
I love the ending of the movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life,” when George Bailey (James Stewart) finally realizes how good his life is….and he cries out, “I want to live again, please God, let me live again.” This movie is a yearly reminder to me how blessed I am. Making these simple pillows reminds me that I’m blessed to have a family to enjoy them in our cozy, gathering room.
The really BIG and cool thing I did this year was using my computer and photo copier to create quotes and images for my pillows. Have you heard of taping a thin, white piece of cotton onto a piece of computer paper and then printing off the Christmas saying you loved best….and the image too? I was really worried my photo copier was going to get all bungled up with the material on the paper but it DIDN’T!!!
I found various quotes and images that I liked and put them on Word It’s kind of hard to see in this picture but I cut a piece of white material and taped it to the computer paper. I ironed it down so it was smooth.I held my breath as the sheets went through my ink jet photo copier…..and it went through!!!! Yeah!Here’s one of the quotes I printed off using large font and colour in my Word setting
Before all sides of my pillows were sewed together, I sewed the felt pieces with the quotes and images onto the front side of the pillow and then sewed up the sides. The result was absolutely spectacular and the cost was ridiculously inexpensive. The wicker chair pillows cost $3.00 dollars each to make. I would have easily paid $20.00 to $25.00 dollars at Winners or Homesense for pillows like this. Note: the white material was something I had on hand; just pieces from old sheets that I was saving to use for zero waste bags but they worked perfectly for the pillow quotes and images.
Take a look at how they turned out……
Ryuuki loves the new red Jacquard cusions….what an improvement!
and then I did the leather chair cushion…
And as if that weren’t enough, I decided to cut up the red felt and turn them into poinsettia leaves, using the gold bells for the centre of the flower. I sewed these onto the black pillows I had made from the Jacquard table cloth material. At first I was really concerned over the shape of the poinsettia petals so I made some patterns using computer paper. Some big petals, some medium ones and some small ones were used to make a layered look. I cut the felt out and sewed the petals together finishing the poinsettia with bells sewed into the centre.
The result was really amazing and the best part is that I can take off the petals and turn the pillow into a year round decorative pillow. (Some day I would like to get a new sofa and love seat, maybe in off white, cream or light grey, so these pillows will look amazing on that colour) but for now this helped to update and make our room cozy for the holidays.
I’m grateful for a creative heart!
The poinsettia pillows, along with a cozy, plaid blanket we had down in our Hobbit’s Hollow and the room is ready for the holidays!And yes, this is the gathering room of a minimalist…everything in it are things I love…books, pictures of family etc…they all spark JOY!
Above, the new cushions, the newly spray painted chairs and table, a few glittery lights, a nature inspired candle holder and we have an updated gathering room
And as if that was not enough to make this room a bit brighter and updated, I talked my husband D into getting some fireplace friendly spray paint to FINALLY get rid of the brass look to our two gas fireplaces…what do you think?
Fireplace in the family room BEFOREFireplace in the family room AFTER….HUGE IMPROVEMENTThe living room fireplace BEFORE After the high heat spray paint application…..brass from the 90’s is all gone!
And the last thing I had D paint was our family room wall….it was a pewter grey but too blue in my opinion. We had the Home Depot paint people add some dark grey tint to the rest of the paint can, which is now a custom colour and we have been calling it, “tranquil seas.” I like it better and although it looks quite blue in these pictures, since we get a lot of natural light from our southern exposed windows, it actually looks dark grey during the day. Hey, it’s not the white of my dreams but it’s more practical with our family. What I love about paint is that it can change the mood of the room so easily.
(when I was doing all this sewing, I was drinking my eggnog latte’s…Cheers!)
Oh that was fun! I’m really proud too that I kept things simple. I stayed true to my intention to focus on a less consumer driven decor and while it’s not interior decorator perfect, it will welcome our family home. I hope everyone will gather to watch some movies and play some games on the newly painted wicker coffee table.
I bought the game above for our ten year old son William this Christmas….I like the idea of gifts of experiences, games, things to get our kids making memories together
By the way, if you aren’t a big sewer or don’t have a sewing machine, when you use dish clothes they are already finished on all the sides so you just need to sew one side and that can be done by hand. There are lots of YouTube videos on sewing simple pillow covers. I used zippers, seam ripped them out from old pillows, to save money and reuse items, but you can also just sew all four sides as well.
I was really inspired by a Youtube channel and thought you may like to see it too, that is if you like that shabby chic farmhouse style. The Youtube channel is called, “The White Cottage Company.” The owner of the channel, Mary, is so creative and thrifty. She also reminds me that decorating is not rocket science and each of us has the ability to create. If you want to be inspired check out her channel.
Did Mary make you want to get a can of white spray paint? Ha! Slowly, slowly, I think I will be moving in that area but white with kids scares me. I’d love to hear what you think of decorating with all white…okay, maybe a bit of greenery and red this time of year, but white for the most part. Does it make you feel peaceful too?
Well, it’s time to say goodbye but I hope to get a few more posts done before Christmas to share with you. Our Christmas tree story for sure and also a story I want to dedicate to my son, Mitchell, who in in Australia this Christmas and won’t be home. If you have time, come back for a visit.
Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
Twenty five years ago we landscaped the bottom of our third acre lot. Our oldest daughter, Alyssa, was about to start kindergarten and we wanted to have a peaceful spot where she could wait for the school bus in the morning, and a welcoming place to greet her upon returning home. One of the trees we planted in that area was a Paper Bark Birch.
Birch are lovely, graceful, deciduous trees with pale bark and bright, heart-shaped leaves. Their species is called, “Betula,” which in Latin means, “to shine.” The Native peoples of Canada built their birch bark canoes from these trees and you can even tap them. Oh yes, the maple tree is not the only tree you can tap for syrup, the birch tree’s sap has a wintergreen flavour that many people prefer. Birch sap is commonly known for its detoxifying, diuretic, cleansing and purifying properties, and can be enjoyed fresh straight out of the tree.
Some visitors to our home over the years would exclaim, “Oh you would have a perfect view of the lake if not for that tree.” I never saw it that way. Trees were equally magnificent to view in my opinion. In the summer the soft green branches framed the view brilliantly, adding more colour and movement to the picture. In the winter, the white trunk and bare branches glistened in contrast with a crisp, blue sky day.
This winter our birch still stands tall with her gleaming bare branches…to the left of our view
Also, I had a sense that our birch was a strong sentinel watching over our children as they grew. Although it was planted below the safety our our children’s fenced in play area, the shade of this tree in summer kept them cool. The children would pick up the thin branches that would sometimes fall and carry them in their hands making swords and various poking sticks. Or they would gather the smaller twigs and make faerie houses, encouraging wee folk to visit after our children were called in for dinner.
In spring each year, once the snow melted, our children liked to go and stand near the birch, on the large boulder we call the wishing rock, for it has a white circle in the middle. Our children would close their eyes tightly and upon opening them they would smile widely, knowing their wish would come true. I like to think that our birch and our wishing rock created strong roots for the love of nature in our children’s hearts.
I was so sad when our birch tree died last year.
Driving the kids home from school the other day I snapped this picture of our birch tree…the wishing rock is just to the left of the tree
I have to say that I feel a sense of guilt over the demise of our tree, since I’ve been so busy in the last ten years saying goodbye to my mom and raising our children, that I haven’t been caring for our trees and plants as I used to before our family life got so hectic. It was too late though when we realized a spray head in our irrigation system was not working, by that time, we lost two pyramidal cedars and I believe, our birch tree could not with stand the drought either.
What is remarkable to me, however, is that even though this beautiful tree is gone, she continues to give to our family and to the birds who still alight on her bare branches.
Last year, some of those dry branches started to fall which allowed us to enjoy many summer evenings eating gooey s’mores around our fire pit. David made a lamp for our oldest daughter, Alyssa, using one of the larger branches for the base of the lamp. Alyssa lit up when she opened her gift. I could tell from her appreciative smile that she would treasure that piece from the birch, taking a bit of her childhood to her new home by the sea.
For my sister C’s birthday last year, I made a birch branch inspired wind chime, using the metal bracelets she had given me and copper and aluminum pipes in varying lengths. I wish I had taken a picture of that creation as I thought it turned out pretty cool. The BEST part though was the three foot birch branch that held it all together.
This Christmas our tree is giving once again. I have many of the white branches throughout our nature inspired Christmas decorations. This year I talked my husband David into helping me make candle holders using the larger branches.
He picked an inch and half drill bit and after cutting the branches to varying lengths, he drilled in the centre of the branch to create a hold deep enough to place a votive candle.
And we just started cutting the birch branches into various sizesDavid looking serious as we cut the birch into candle holder sized pieces…he always says, just tell me what you want. I think I need to learn to use power tools!I literally threw this one together; pine, cedar and fir, along with the giving tree’s branches…added a few cinnamon scented pine cones and we had a front door basketI’ve added bits of birch in many of our Christmas centre pieces
They are lovely on their own, as singular birch candle holders with some pine cones or greenery around them. For the room where our family gathers I wanted a bigger arrangement. I took three of the varying sized birch candle holders, wrapped them in jute and circled them with cinnamon spiced pine cones. A magical combination!
Placing the three candle holders on a red plate and adding some pine cones was the perfect touch to remind me of the magic of nature…especially our trees
And so…this tree keeps giving.
This winter I hope you can take a relaxing walk in nature. If you spy a tree that resonates with you, give it a hug and whisper thank you. I’m sure you will feel an energetic embrace back. When we are heightened to it, the energy from our trees sparkle and generously give what we need to keep going.
I want to thank you for taking the time to visit my blog today. I know how busy life can be this time of year. I hope I have inspired you to carry a branch of gratitude in your heart and maybe decorate your house this holiday season with your own creation from nature. In upcoming posts I’d like to share more of what we have been doing to keep this holiday simple and sacred. I also have another tree story~ our 2019 Christmas tree adventure…coming soon.
Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful this holiday season.
The Christmas lights are up, the season of light is upon us.
Welcome back and thanks for joining me in celebrating the season of light. On the heel of my last post entitled, “Unplugging the Christmas Machine,” all about my desire to create a simpler yuletide, I want to share a few things we’ve been doing to slow down and smell the roses,…..
or rather the pine trees.
Last week was busy as per usual but on Wednesday, when we don’t have any after school activities, I picked the kids up at 2:30 pm and asked them if they wanted to go on an adventure. I knew it would have to be quick too since we had to pick Grace up from the high school at 3 pm, but my three youngest all perked up over the idea of a spontaneous excursion.
With excited eyes, the kids and I quickly drove to a large park in our area, however, at the entrance there was a sign warning of a bear sighting in the park. Do I take the kids and chance a visit with a sleepy bear I wondered?
We decided to risk it.
Our feet crunched on the gravel path as we ventured forward. Our lungs filled with the oxygen rich air. The sun was getting very low in the sky and in the 30 minutes we were there, the temperature dropped noticeably. As we walked briskly on the path, the children told me about their day with animated voices, laughing easily over the days events.
Why didn’t we do this more often I thought.
We could have continued on that path until we reached the look out over the lake but knowing Grace would be waiting for us, we turned around and headed back. It was halfway back that the kids spied piles of pine cones under one of the biggest pine trees in the park. Victoria, a natural artist, started talking about how cool it would be to make something with the pine cones. As we gathered a pile of them, choosing the biggest, most symmetrical cones, we talked about things we could do with them.
William remembered the gnome his cello teacher had given him made from a pine cone and he thought that would be fun to make. Kathryn and Victoria, always thinking of the welfare of animals, thought it would be great to spread the pine cones with peanut butter and roll them in bird seed to feed the many birds who winter over in our area. I was thinking about fragrant pine cones decorating our Christmas tree and table tops. Thankfully, I had a cloth bag in my pocket, which we quickly filled with our treasures.
Our time was up though and with a bulging bag we started running, taking turns carrying our “Canada bag” full of nature’s magic. Although I never said anything to the children, the whole time I was warily keeping watch for any signs of a bear. I casually drop the stick I had carried when we hit the red gate, signalling the parking lot ahead.
Whew!
Thankfully we never saw any signs of a bear and when we finally made it back to our car we carried with us a lovely late Autumn memory and a bag full of fall’s bounty.
(Above, William, Victoria and Kathryn showing their pine cone treasures…notice the bear warning on the gate)
That short foray into nature gave us all the energy we needed to get through the rest of our week. It was busy too with two music concerts. One at our children’s school and another at the Music school where our three youngest take lessons and are involved with the youth orchestra.
Victoria, William and Kathryn before their music concert….the “Second String Trio,” played really well and all the hard work paid off…restored by a mid week hike into the forest
Then to herald in December, both William and Grace sang in their respective school choirs at our little communities outdoor Christmas light up event. It had been a hectic week but that thirty minutes in the woods mid week restored us and kept us going for the rest of the week too. Imagine how much energy we would have if we allowed nature to lay roots in our soul every day?
Between all of the week’s activities I started to decorate our house for the holidays. I will share a few of the projects with you in my upcoming posts but last week was all about pine cones. First, I soaked them in my large laundry room sink and then in batches, I dried them in the oven at 200 degrees F for a few hours. As they dried, they filled our house with the most intoxicating scent of pine.
Once dried, they opened up beautifully and were lovely and big. I sprinkled some cinnamon essential oils on the bulk of them and added them to the greenery I had collected from our yard the week before. (I saved some for the craft projects and bird cone feeders that the children want to make)
In addition to the pine cones, I dried some slices of orange and when both the pine cones and oranges were dried I had fun decorating our house with the greenery, pine cones, dried oranges and birch branches, from our dead birch tree at the bottom of our property.
I had cleaned the living room but it needed a little something to pull it all together…something from nature does it every time!Baskets filled with white birch limbs/branches are hot in the decorating world right now. Thankfully I have an abundance of them falling off our dead birch tree at the bottom of our yard. I could have made a small fortune if I had been able to chop the tree down before Christmas.
Such simple things bring us the greatest joy and they don’t cost anything or take up much time to create. Also, being outside with those we love are the BEST winter memories!
Well, that is the “Pine Cone” portion of my post but when I was bundling up our little girls to play outside on the weekend, seeing their bright red gloves reminded me of an acronym for winter well being that I had read recently. I’ve altered it a bit.
GLOVES!
G stands for “gratitude.” Counting our blessings and realizing everything we need is already abundantly ours, is the corner stone to our sense of well being. I’ll never forget watching the movie, “The Shift,” with Dr. Wayne Dyer. As he rose in the wee hours of the morning to write, the first thing he would say was, “Thank you.” He was a strong spiritual mentor for me and now that he is gone, I like to continue greeting the morning with those precious two words. If you want to read more on the effects of gratitude on the brain click this link. And that reminds me of another shift in perspective Dr. Dyer left me and that was his quote, “change the way you look at things and the things you look at will change. ” Thank you Dr. D!
If you have never seen the movie, “The Shift,” take some time and allow it to flow into your life….something just may Shift!
L stands for “love.” When we remember that we are connected to all things and people on this earth and each of us can make a difference by spreading love around, then we will start to feel a humming vibration of peace. At the end of last week, both my sister C and my best friend T, took time out of their busy lives to send me inspirational messages. C sent me several emails and a picture of a flock of swans swimming in the icy river below their house. Seeing them reminded me of gracefully moving with the flow of life. (All hope for a healthy planet is not lost C…thanks for reminding me of that)
Then a snail mail package (remember those?) arrived the same day from my dear friend T. She had updated me since we last saw one another on my birthday the month before but mostly the package was full of love.
I like to believe that T and I have a sacred contract with one another……she is always there keeping me on my path…thank you T for the snail mail package with newsy letter and cards!T is like an Aunt to my kids…she was with me as I dreamed about them years ago and didn’t poo poo the idea that there were still souls waiting to join our family. Love you T
Little did my sister C or T know that when they were reaching out to me that it would send ripples out into the world and keep me going too. I got through the week and we all had energy to give love to a stray cat who showed up on our door step. She won’t come in but she is grateful for the food we leave out for her. Love for all sentient beings changes the vibration on our earth. (p.s. our kids haven’t given up on the idea of her joining our family…or at least rigging up a warm place for her to sleep outside)
O stands for “organic.” This applies to everything in our life from food that comes as close to nature (without the use of toxins) to natural clothing. If we take steps in surrounding ourselves also with an organic lifestyle, we will find our spirit is restored. Something as simple as decorating our house with pine cones can be the seeds for our well being in an organic way.
Victoria holding some of our dried pine cones and Kathryn is holding the candle holder we made from our birch tree branches…more about that in the next upcoming post Filling our home with natural organic sources creates a healthy environment
V stands for “Vegetables.” Our mothers were wise when they told us to eat our veggies. We are always looking for the magic pill; to make us healthier, make us younger, give us more energy, give us glowing skin and hair. It’s really simple. I have a secret to tell you, “Eat your veggies.”
E stands for “Exercise.” Anything that gets your heart pumping and your blood flowing is great but the best kind of exercise is the kind that happens when you don’t realize you are doing it. So get out and take your dog for a run, ask a friend to join you cross country skiing, or head out with the kids and the toboggans once it snows. (Pick a steep hill so your hamstrings get a work out on the way back up.) Years ago, when I was a part time fitness instructor, I used to think that my daily exercise practise was my path to my spirit but in fact it was the feeling of well being that I would achieve when exercising that connected me to my soul energy. Our bodies crave that connection.
Grace, William, Kathryn and Victoria, out for a walk on our mountain…you would never know that this large pond is just over the hill from our house, filled with ducks and wildlife, being outside exercises is good for our soul.My husband D works so hard but he’s starting to walk daily and is noticing that he has more energy for everything. Exercise is part of the key to feeling well in our lives
And the last letter in Gloves is S. S stands for “Sleep.” Most of us don’t get enough but we need it to restore and reset our energy so we can live our best life. At the end of day to help your body unwind, light a candle, have a bath, crawl into a comfy bed and allow your body to slow down. Turn off all electronics and tune in to the natural rhythm of your breath. In and out, in and out, allow it to bring peace at the end of your day. Quiet your mind. Say your prayers. Drift into a deep, restful sleep. This is the time of year for us to hibernate along with the bears.
And if that picture got you yawning and you think you might be ready for some sleep, I thought I would end this post with a link to a YouTube video that my oldest daughter Alyssa recently found for me/us. When she was a baby I used to play a tape with ocean waves, sea gulls and classical music. Everyday at nap time I would tell her, “settle down and take a rest, sometimes quiet time is best.” Then I would press play on her tape machine and she would drift off into a blissful slumber. She was always a good sleeper and I often think that tape inspired her to play the piano and also live near the ocean where she says she feels most at home. I have to agree.
So the next time you want some quiet time, grab a quilt and play this video.
Thank you! for visiting with me today. A few of my upcoming posts will continue on the theme of celebrating the holiday season with simple ideas, reminding us all once again to slow down and nourish our body and our soul.
Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.
