Family Life

Hatred Begets Hatred, Love Begets Love

/ admin

My dear blogging family and friends,

It’s been too long…welcome back.

I’ve neglected writing on my blog for absolutely eons. There are many reasons why. First, I’ve been super busy raising our last four/three children. I’m wanting to be present for every moment since I know all too well how fast children grow up and leave the nest. But another reason under all that everyday busyness has been my lack of faith and hope. I’ve not had to heart to write and certainly didn’t want to share anything unless it was uplifting or could inspire.

The world is becoming increasingly chaotic and hate filled and it’s not just out there; it’s seeped into my little community. Since Covid hit five years ago I think some people have lost their sense of humanity as increasingly there is this mentality of us, verus them. Instead of a “we are all in this together,” thought process, there is this devisive rhetoric creating societal havoc.

People seem to be more aggressive and angry. All I have to do is head out onto the road and everyone seems to be competing for their space and want to be the first through any traffic stop. What I dislike most is seeing hate speech on people’s vehicles. Therefore I have struggled with ways to encourage myself, let alone summon up some words of hope to send out into the ether.

But as this week closes I caught a glimpse of something I wanted finally to share, but first a story, if you can bare it. Grab a cup of tea/coffee and join me for a visit.

This has been a tough week for me. Memories from the past are clashing with the current moments we are all experiencing in September 2025.

To illustrate I must take you back in time….almost a quarter of a century ago now.

I remember September 11, 2001 like it was yesterday. The kids went off to school still excited about their new teachers and classmates. I took our youngest little guy Harrison to preschool and then returned home in good spirits as it was a beautiful blue sky day with only a touch of crispness in the air. I returned home a bit after 9 a.m. poured myself a cup of tea and dumped a load of laundry on the family room floor preparing to start my daily housework.

Before I had folded one thing though I turned on the T.V. On the screen, and on every channel unbelievable terror was being filmed live in New York. I watched in horror the aftermath of the first Twin Tower being hit and then still trying to understand what was happening right in front of me I watched another plane crash into the second tower. Black smoke filled the blue sky.

I couldn’t assimilate what I was seeing and the reporters on the ground were as stunned and shocked as I. The world stood still and would forever be changed.

The days and weeks following didn’t bring any light to that event. What could cause people to enact such a horrendous, murderous act on so many innocent people? I remember walking around feeling like a dark cloud had covered the earth. Then two weeks later I discovered I was pregnant. I was thrilled of course but the joy I felt was dulled with the knowledge that our world was no longer a safe place. We were living in the days following what would be called the 911 terrorist attack.

How could I bring a new baby into this world?

Throughout that fall the cloud I felt didn’t lift although deep down there was a tiny piece of joy as I thought about the new life growing in my womb. Just as I was about to share the happy news with our family and friends I went in for a routine ultrasound only to find out our baby’s heart beat had stopped. In that darkened ultrasound room I dropped into a black abyss of pain and grief. The only thing that kept me tied to totally losing it was the fact I had four other children to care for everyday. (I know blessed right….and yet a part of me had died) Yet these children needed me. They needed a mother to feed them, to get them to school, to take them to their activities, to bath them, dress them, read to them, in general keep all the balls in the air. Looking back I think someone else must have been going through the motions.

During that late fall, (I had to be admitted to hospital for an induced miscarrage on Nov 29th) throughout the Christmas season and winter I was in a state of deep depression.

Then in February my sister C asked if I wanted to join her and her yoga students for a retreat at a nearby Buddhist Monastery. This was the first time I felt any light. Even though I seldom left our children, I told her yes because I knew she was throwing me a life line. In the weeks leading up to our long weekend getaway in April, I started to meditate. Every day I would sit longer and longer. I would focus on my breath while guiding white light to surround and embrace me. I started walking and a few times I hiked the moutain behind our house where I sat overlooking the lake below me. A sense of deep gratitude for all I had been given started to break the darkness. I could feel as Leonard Cohen once sang;

“Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack, a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.“

I started practicing some yoga too. I knew I needed to keep up with my sister’s yoga group so as I got stronger and more supple, I started feeling my body connect with my spirit. I was coming back to the world. A crack had opened.

My husband was great about my short trip away. He knew a part of me was vacant and I needed this trip away. The day to leave finally arrived. As I packed my personal hygiene items in my weekend bag I wondered if I should pack some sanitary supplies because my period was late. That’s weird I thought and then I started feeling my breasts and realized they were sensitive. On a whim I took a pregnancy test. I continued to pack though and only casually glanced at the results knowing in my heart like so many other times what I would see. I guess that is why I collasped onto the floor holding tightly to the test strip.

I was shocked to see two bright pink lines.

How had this happened? After more than 18 months of using every fertility stategy I knew to conceive, this baby had just slipped in so silently. So gracefully. While at the monastery I contemplated how miracles happen in our lives and I discovered for me anyway they come when I let go. When I surrender. When I’m grateful for all I’ve been given.

It’s in that sacred place when small seeds are often planted.

Just before Christmas of that year our daughter Grace was born.

The picture above is in our front yard, next to our little pond where roses bloom and our Buddha man welcomes those to our home. Seeing this picture reminds me of the Buddhist retreat I attended after a dark winter of grief. It was over two decades ago now when I went to meditate and practice yoga carrying the tiny beginnings of our beautiful daughter Grace Elizabeth. (She was around 31/2 in this picture)

Above are our eight children. From Left to right, Harrison, Grace, William, Alyssa, Clark, Kathryn, Mitchell, and Victoria.

I’m sharing this story today because it was 24 years ago this month when darkness filled our world and here it is almost a quarter of a century later and our world has not progressed further. We are still living in a world where peace is but a dream. The war that Russia started three and a half years ago with Ukraine continues. There is currently a terrifying war between Israel and Hamas. The Palestinian people are literally starving to death in front of our eyes.

Eruptions of unrest ring out through the world. And this week, closer to home, south of our border another act of hatred recently occurred.

A few days ago, the day before the anniversary of 911, an American conservative political activist, and Trump supporter, Charlie Kirk, was assassinated while hosting a Utah college event for Turning Point USA, an organisation he had co-founded. I knew who Charlie Kirk was as I had sought out some of his social media podcasts. I wanted to understand his views and figure out why he was so charismatic with the right wing younger aged Trump base. He was almost the same age as our oldest son Clark.

I watched without judgment at first but I abhored most of his belief’s and had a hard time understanding how he could call himself a Christian. And yet I had the self awareness to realize this was hypocritical of me since I try to follow Christ’s teachings and one is to judge not! And yet, I’m human. I disliked his negative words towards people of colour, the non white immigrants who were in the U.S., his strong feelings towards women’s rights, (their bodies particularly) and his hateful feelings towards the LGBTQ+ community. I was raised in a Christian home with the belief that Jesus came to teach us to love everyone. EVERYONE!!!….without questioning their colour, race, gender, or whom they loved. I guess that is why I could not understand his views. But I was conflicted because I knew I was judging him.

I believe in the right for free speech however and even if I don’t share his views I’m glad I live in a world where we aren’t prosecuted for sharing our thoughts and ideas. My first thought when I heard the news he had been shot and killed was extreme sadness that our world had again darkened. That our world had created another person who had such hatred in their hearts that they felt compelled to kill another person and while yes, Charlie Kirk was confrontational and right out there with his views making him a clear target, he was just doing what he believed was his mission. I was also extremely sad for his family, his wife, his two children. I know what it’s like to lose a father at a young age and it alters everything. My second thought was why are guns so easy to obtain in the States. Why aren’t there more restrictions? I understand on this same day there was a school shooting in Colorado that was lost under the news of Charlie’s death. It’s becoming so commonplace in the States to have a school shooting that it almost doesn’t get notated.

But guns almost seem to go with Americans like Apple Pie at Thanksgiving so I doubt if anything will change after Charlie’s death.

It’s been a tough week full of emotion as I remember the terrorist attack on the World Trade Towers on September 11, 2001, as I remember the joy I felt finding out I was pregnant 24 years ago and then the bleak depression I dropped into after the loss of our baby. I thought of the preceding years and how not much has changed on this earth.

But it’s also been a time of light and joy for me since our daughter Grace was born.

She and I have had a difficult year as she is almost through University and is flexing her wings and starting to fly. It’s normal to have a disconnect while raising an older child and often it can be extremely disruptive as children move out into the world to start their own lives. Sadly, many mothers take the brunt of the break when their children leave the nest. However, as challenging as it is, I wouldn’t have wished it any other way and missed the opportunity to watch a miracle be born. A miracle grow and inspire me to believe in the goodness that can be created in this world when we let go, surrender and have faith.

She has also taught me that struggle with others can be our greatest gift and blessing.

With this mindset I’m moving forward and trusting light will shine through the crack. This is why I decided to blog today. Finally I can share a story and shine a bit of light out into the world. We don’t have to agree with others and their views; the people they choose to love or the paths they choose to walk, but if we want any peace on this planet we need to let go and have faith. We need to be grateful for our differences and celebrate where we can come together. It’s with the hope for humanity which will move us forward. How did the events of this week affect you? Did you go down memory lane too? Whatever road you took I hope you can join me in opening up that crack and place a few seeds of love in the wall. Maybe with time something incredibly beautiful will grow.

My blog title was hatred begets hatred. I fear Charlie Kirk sprinkled hatred in many of his speeches and as such that hate, like karmic retribution he was killed.

That is why I’m encouraging the opposite. Love begets Love and boy we need that more as 2025 comes to a close.

To conclude this blog post I thought it would be appropriate to share a video John Lennon wrote called, “Instant Karma, (We all Shine On) I find it also interesting that John also was killed by gun violence. Will we ever learn?

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

The Trade War is On~Unseating Trump with the energy he least expects

/ admin

Dear Family and Friends,

Wow! I’m back on my blog already this morning.

My last post’s ink was barely dry when I woke up to find Trump imposing a 25% tariff on Canada’s steel and aluminum and I felt compelled to share another thought (and video) with you this morning.

My hope is we continue to stay together and support our Canadian government officials as we weather Trump’s tariff. My hope is each of us use the power of our hard earned dollars and send a clear message to Trump and his government that we will retaliate. Bullies don’t like when you stand up to them! If you want some ideas on how you can protest this tariff, take a peek at the post I wrote yesterday. Here’s the link to “Happy Together.” You can also watch suggestions from our B.C. Premier, David Eby. click here for that link.

I don’t have a cookie recipe to share with you today. But I do have a YouTube video that I watched last night, after viewing the exciting Super Bowl game. We are Eagles Fans….yeah! I have to say it felt rather GREAT watching them win after Trump said in his pre game interview he was a Chief’s fan. It felt even greater hearing him getting Booed. (hey, while I try to live in the light, it feels good to see bullies not always win)

After we’d cleared up our Super Bowl party snacks, I watched an interesting video from, (Warrrior of Peace) Andrea Winn, titled, “This is the Only Way to Unseat Trump.” The title was intriguing. Also, I thought much of what she said resonated with what I had just written about a few hours earlier regarding Bullies and feeding them with fear/anger, etc. If you are interested in hearing her thoughts which echoed much of mine, I’ve included the link below.

I’d love to hear what your thoughts are with regards to fighting against the announced tariffs. In addition, I’d love to hear what you think of Trump’s desire to Annex our country. Please comment below or you could visit my “Hope’s Homestead Page” on FB/meta. I did say I was going to delete my accounts yesterday, but then today I thought no, what better way than protesting against Trump and Mark Z, and Jeff Bezos, not to mention E. Musky and his techno Muskrats, than airing my thoughts on Mark Z’s platform.

Seems fitting!

What do you think? Yes, let’s use our social media and tell them what we think of them. Yeah, so if you want to make a comment, check out my FB page or share your thoughts below on my blog.

Without further ado, here’s the link to the video I was talking about above. Enjoy. And remember we are stronger together. We can make a difference in the world right now by being kind. (oh, that makes Bullies grow even smaller!) Make it a game today and see how much kindness you can spread around your world. Smile at a stranger, help out someone at the grocery story, let someone in traffic move in front of you, take some cookies to your neighbour. Take some soup to a sick friend.

Be that little pebble in the pond!

Which Wolf will you feed?

Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

“Happy Together”~White Chocolate & Cranberry Cookies

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My dearest friends and family,

Thank you so much for visiting today. There’s a lot going on in the world lately and I don’t know how you are responding to it. Are you drawn into this moment of history or are you minding your own business? Whatever road you are taking and wherever you live and call home, I hope you know we are better together. This post is a bit political so if you just want a great cookie recipe and hear a bit of music, scroll to the bottom. If you want to hear some of my thoughts and what has been happening around our household keep reading.

Whatever you choose, I’m happy you’re HERE!

February has arrived. The month of love. Winter if swiftly passing, although if you step outside today, you wouldn’t believe it as it’s minus 9 degrees celsuis. (15.8 Fahrenheit for my American friends) However you measure temperature, it’s REALLY freezingly, BRRRR, cold here. Yet, each day brings a bit more sunshine. Even on our our most frigid days I’m trying to remember we’re only a hop, skip and a jump away from our trees budding out in leaf and our flowers blooming brilliantly.

January flew by in a flurry since our kids were super busy in all sorts of activities. Last weekend we took our twin daughters to a basketball tournament out of town. They played one game on Friday night and easily won it. Before they got too big for their britches, I reminded them that the team they played against came from a town much smaller than our community. Hey context matters.

(Victoria (left) Kathryn (right) Their team is called the “Lakers,” and if you look in the background of their gym you can see a bit of the mural painted which depicts our Lake Monster mascot.)

The next game they played was with a school from a much larger community that ours. Also, I found out later that this particular school is known for their strong sports participation and they are often found at our Provincial play offs. Our girl’s basketball team is made up of ten girls, which is two lines. However, two of those ten are newbies. When and “if” they catch the ball, they look as if an Alien baby has accidently landed in their midst. Shocked! During one game I heard one of their moms yell out, “Dribble,” when their daughter caught the ball and had a stunned look on her face. (Having said that though, in every game they improve. They are valuable players!)

Also, I have to share our coaches philosophy that everyone gets the same playing time. (I love that!) That’s how you develop a strong team. Suffice to say, we really only have eight player who feel comfortable playing the game. With that context, I’ll take you back to the second game experience. This team was bigger. They had fifteen players, three full lines, and several of the girls were not only physically broader, but way taller than our girls.

Okay, back to the game.

Even though I was nervous, one always hopes the underdog (our team) has a shot, but early on my hopes were doused as the opposing team demonstrated a skill level superior to our girls. What made me sit up taller though was even though we were outmatched, our girls never gave up. They tried again and again to make plays and baskets, but by the last quarter they were down 15 to 50. A few of the opposing players were really tough too. I mean physically tough. We picked out a handful of them who shoved and pushed and once even purposely tripped one of our players.

Our girls had heart though, dug deep and played clean.

Then right in front of David and I, who were sitting centre court, about three bleacher seats up, we witnessed the opposing team’s, Number 25, viciously push our smallest girl.. This wasn’t a little push. This was a huge shove meant to hurt and take down one of our players. Also, Number 25 had this determined hate filled look on her face as she shoved with all she had. I was just so horrified that I yelled, “REALLY, really, you have to do that when you’re up 35 points!!!” Number 25 looked up at me and scowled. Her face was giving me the “FU” look. A foul was meted out, but when she went off the court I observed her two coaches giving her a big high five.

They had huge smiles on their faces.

I was disgusted.

Yes, I know basketball can be a rough game. It can get physical but this was above and beyond what I would call good sportmanship. I’m sure this team went on to win the tournament. Our girls came fourth out of eight teams. Victoria also won player of one of the games. On the drive home before our girls fell into a deep sleep, we rehashed the various games. We talked about this number twenty five player, and the general roughness and attitude of the coaches. We all agreed that winning at all cost wasn’t worth it.

Did this other team realize the optics? In the future whenever I think of this school I will remember this game and how they played.

Is that the reputation they want?

When our girls go out to play I always give them a pre game, mom talk on the drive. It goes something like this; “play hard, use your intellect as much as your skill. Be respectful of your coaches. Support your team with a positive attitude. MOST IMPORTANT, remember winning at all cost is not really winning.

Being a good sport is the sign of a true winner.

Victoria above with the t shirt she won for being best player of the game and the tournament she won it in

(below is a video I took of one of our girls first games earlier in the season. It’s in our gym and you can see a bit more of our lake monster in the background. Victoria is (number 12) the one grabbing the ball and getting 2 points. Kathryn (number 8) is right behind her giving her some support afterwards) That’s me cheering too!

It was getting dark when we started driving home from the tournament. The girls huddled together under a big fleece blanket and fell asleep like they used to do when they were little babes after a big day out. I was glad they were sleeping when we started climbing the mountain pass. Snow was driving hard towards us and while David didn’t say so at the time, he later told me he was having a hard time seeing the edge of the highway.

At the top of the pass we saw a semi truck jack knifed in the ditch on the opposite side of the highway. It was touch and go there for about one hour. I was hardly breathing. I was holding onto the edge of my seat and praying hard. Finally, we started down the other side of the pass and the snow started to let up. By the time we hit the valley no snow was falling at all.

When we walked into our house at last I just said, “thank you to God and my angels”

Throughout that trip I kept thinking about the airplane/helicopter accident in Washington (and the medic plane crash in Philadephia too) that had killed so many beautiful people only days before. Among them, so many talented young figure skaters. That tradegy just made me cry. What made me cry even harder though was the speech during a White House press conference Trump and his incompetent, unqualified, unkind, administrators, gave shortly after the crash. The fact that he brought DEI (Diversity/Equity and Inclusion) into the aftermath of this tragic loss made me mad. So mad!

Did he think of the optics? Did he realize he and his team just appeared hate filled? During his election he and his supporters would wear those red hats that said, “Make America Great Again.” Is this his idea of GREATNESS? Having no compassion for those who had died in the accidents or the families grieveing their loss. When he was talking about DEI etc, they were still searching for their bodies in the Potomic.

Nothing was more obvious to me while listening to this news briefing that America has lost her North Star of morality and good ethics. Where was the compassion? At least her chosen leader didn’t exhibit any. I was absolutely appaulled when Pete Hegseth, (the new Secretary of Defence) said, from now on only the BEST and the BRIGHTEST would be in command, I was thinking, “how in the heck did the Republicans confirm your appointment?” A former Fox T.V. host with a horrid past!. For that matter, how does someone who is not only a felon, a convicted sexual abuse offender and a businessman, who has bankrupted numerous companies, become the President?

If the new administration represent America’s best and brightest, I’m genuinely concerned for their future as a country.

ANYHOO…..SORRY for my mini rant but yeah, when we decided to travel out of town on wintery roads, those accidents were on my mind as were the reaction to those crashes from the President and his, shall I say it, “goons.”

When we woke up on Sunday safe in our beds I was still saying thank you. David made the kids waffles with berries and we turned on the news. That’s when we heard that President Trump, the “Make America Great Again” guy, had announced he was placing a 25% tariffs on all our exports to the States. (10% percent for our oil and energy products) We knew he’d threatened this move many times during his run for office. I think many of his MAGA supporters thought tariffs on another country meant it would hurt us.

They loved that! (this tells you a lot about the people who voted him in)

So yeah, that’s how we heard he was really going through with it.

As I watched the news, all I could think about was how much he was like Number 25,.

He wants to win at all cost.

People like this are bullies. They get their power from fear.

If you want to read the definition of a bully; “a person who habitually seeks to harm or intimidate those whom they perceive as vulnerable.”

Hmmmm….sounds about right.

What is the profile of a bully?

“Research finds that bullies have a distinct psychological makeup. They lack prosocial behavior, are untroubled by anxiety, and do not understand others’ feelings. They exhibit a distinctive cognitive feature, a kind of paranoia: They misread the intentions of others, often imputing hostility in neutral situations.”

What do you think? Does that sound like the current leader in the States?

And you know where bullies get their energy? From fear, and attention. Are we going to give him that? I’m thinking not, and that I need to stop watching the news! At least the biased news.

Anyway, back to our little household.

We had a long talk about the pending tariffs during our Sunday dinner. Even though our kids are only 13 and 15 they demonstrated intelligent thoughts and insights regarding the political situation in the States and how it may impact our country and the world. Also, their oldest sister is with us currently. She is well educated, and contributed in her own intuitive way to our converstation. During our dinner I wondered if they would look back at this moment in history, like I did when I was their age, and the Watergate affair was happening with President Nixon at the time. What I find interesting however is we covered those events in our Socials class when I was in grade eight. I can remember our teacher getting us to research what was happening and we had a debate where we all learned a lot. When we ask our children if they talk about anything going on currently in their world or particularly in the States they said it’s only “crickets,” from their teachers.

Times have sure changed!

Our children tell us that they do have classmates that think Trump is Great. They think our Conservative, Maple Magas are great. I’m sure they are learning these views from their parents and social groups.

I guess this is another reason we encourage our children to obtain a University Education where they can become critical thinkers. I want them to learn about history, sociology, psychology, science, to name only a few important studies.

The next morning the kids went off to school and while I was cleaning up from breakfast and folding a load of laundry I watched the news. (I know, not the best use of my time) Tariffs were the only thing people were discussing in Canada and in the States. What I was encouraged to see was Canadians were unified in their “Hell No,” thoughts and we were coming together. It reminded me in so many ways of our girls recent basketball tournament.

While watching the news…..

.

I heard some of our snowbirds who travel down to Florida and Arizonia for the winter were putting their condos on the market or coming back home in their motor homes. Others were cancelling their vacation trips planned for the States and choosing Mexico, Spain and Portugal instead. We certainly won’t be going to Disney World now!! Also, our son’s jazz band is planning a trip to Idaho this spring and sadly we told our son, “sorry, but we don’t support countires who bully their own people, not to mentiion put tariffs on friends.”

The tariffs hadn’t even begun and all over Canada people were sharing what to boycott and what to buy. For instance, no to Florida oranges and orange juice and yes to Okanagan apples. No to American alcohol and yes to Canadian beer and wine. And for those of you American readers, we dont all live in a cold climate up here….ha…. we happen to live in a hot and arid valley that grows amazing grapes. Wineries are everywhere. Also, I hear although Kentucky Bourbon is lovely, it’s now being shunned. Even more since it comes from a RED State which voted the DJT into office.

In our own household, ever since Trump was elected we’ve stopped shopping at Walmart, which is an American chain. Their reputation in our books got even worse when they were some of the first companies to get on the anti DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) bandwagon. Also, when I saw Steve Bezos standing in the front row at Trump’s inauguration I told my family we were done with Amazon. Ever since Covid we’ve been big Amazon purchasers but no more. Hey, the same with Mark Zuckerberg. I used to check my FaceBook daily but I’m done with that now and I’m going to figure out how to delete my accounts (I have two)

We are also down on anything Elon Musky related; Tesla, Twitter/X, SpaceX…..let’s just say Billionaires who just want more money and power are not in our most liked list. Especially when they go into the Treasury Department with their tech muskrats and shut down USAID which helps the poor and sick all over the world. (btw, if you Google the web site for this group, it’s currrently been deleted….so yeah, anyone who would hurt the innocent and needy in the world is not only a bully but is evil)

So yeah, we were digging in for the long haul.

Then Tuesday came. The Stock Market in the States started to plummet and Trump and his, “NOT the BEST and the BRIGHTEST,” caved. The tariffs are now paused for 30 days.

I could go on and on with regards to my feelings towards the new U.S. administration but in the blink of history this will go down as a low point for the United States, if you can call them that, as I’ve never seen a more divided country. They are facing a constituional crisis at the moment and I believe a coup is happening in Washington right now.

You know what’s really fascinating though, here in Canada ever since he signed that Executive Order to put tariffs on our country it’s maybe caused a reverse effect to what he was expecting.

Did we cower in fear? Hell No!

We are now, more than ever, TOGETHER! Happy together! And you know what else, while he hates DEI, we are a country built on diversity, equity and inclusion. Although we aren’t perfect up here and we’ve cause generational trauma to the indigenous peoples, they’ve taught us how to be better people and I’d like to think we are viewed as a good people in the world.

Further more, we aren’t going to “bend the knee” in FEAR, which is what bullies thrive on. No we are not going to let the lower energy of fear remain with the bullies and allow our love for our country and others guide us.

And one final thought before I share my White Chocolate and Cranberry cookie recipe with you, is a video I hold close to my heart from Kamala Harris who said, “the strength of a leader is who you lift up, not who you beat down.” I guess that says it all. Why the American people didn’t vote her to be their leader, I will never know. Was it because she was a woman? Was it because she wasn’t white? Whatever their reasons, I hope they are happy with the leader they have. Sadly, I know many Americans do not resonate with who is in power right now and to those I say, get out and fight for what you believe in. Be happy Together!!! Here are her inspiring words;

Beautiful words of lifting others up.

That is the Strength of a LEADER! and while Kamala may not be in power right now in the States, I’m holding onto her words. I hope you are too!

In my small way, that’s what this blog is about. And feeding you. HA! Last week my sisters and I had a video chat and as we were talking I was pulling these cookies out of the oven. My oldest sister Bonnie asked for the recipe so my dear sis, this is for you. Also, I wrote this post for ALL my friends and family. I’ve been keeping my feelings close to my chest ever since the election. I haven’t wanted to talk politics. I haven’t wanted to give it energy. I frankly have been so sad and let down by the people who voted Trump into office.

I keep asking myself why they didn’t see who he was. Maya Angelou said, “When a person shows you who they are, believe them!” And if they truly heard the hateful things he was always saying, why would they vote him in. Especially the Christian people. I will never understand how a Christian who follows Christ’s teachings about loving your neighbour and giving to the needy, could vote for someone who talks about rounding up illegal immigrants like they are animals or putting tariffs on your allies. (What I find most hypocrital is when the so called Christians wear crosses at their necks and talk about rounding up illegals or evicting the people from their own communities, “Gaza.”

There must be something so horribly broken in these people. Maybe they have generational hatred which they haven’t been able to work through. Whatever the case, there is no excuse for spreading hate and racism in the world. Especially after the horrors we witnessed during the Second World War with the Jewish people.

But I’m not going to dwell any longer in this place and give it energy. We need to rise above it and remember…..

Love overcomes everything.

Let’s make some cookies and go out into the world and share them. Take a plate to your neighbours. Talk to them. Find out what their views are. Find your community of like minded people. We are happy together when we lift each other up. Hey, and if you stay around to the bottom of this post, you’ll be able to listen to a bit of music. Our kids playing “Happy Together,” during another difficult time in history, our Covid pandemic which taught us a lot about how important it is to stay together to keep people safe and healthy.

White Chocolate and Cranberry Cookies

Ingredients

11/4 cups sugar

1 1/4 cups firmly packed brown sugar

1 1/2 margarine or butter softened….I use 3/4 margarine and 3/4 butter

2 teaspoon vanilla

3 eggs

4 1/4 cups all purpose flour

2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ginger (AMAZING!)

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 to 1 1/2 cups white chocolate

1 to 1 1/2 cups dried cranberry

Optional: Pecans or Walnuts to top the cookie

Directions

Preheat oven to 375 degree F.

In a large bowl beat both sugars and butter until light and creamy.

Add eggs one at a time. Mix well. Add vanilla

In a medium bowl, Add flour, baking soda, ginger and salt. Mix well.

Add flour to the sugar and butter mixture.

Stir in the chocolate and dried cranberries until well combined.

Drop dough by rounded tablespoon onto a ungreased cookie sheet.(2 inches apart)

Top with pecan or walnut.

Bake in 375 degree oven for 8 to 10 minutes….I make my cookies larger so they take 12 mins until they are golden brown.

Yields 6 dozen….they freeze beautifully but boy they taste good frozen and they don’t last long!!!

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Below: A Flash into the past~ our kids, Will, Kate and Tori playing, “Happy Together,” (during our homeschool Covid year)

A final word, for my American friends, and I know I have a few who have followed this blog, if my words resonate with you and you are feeling fearful…… please stay strong, you are not alone. Find your people. Use your voices. Walk in peace sharing your views. Talk to your officials. I will be praying for you and our world.

Thanks again for visiting today.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Happy New Year with Magic Wishes and even some Shepherds Pie

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Welcome dear family and friends. It’s so nice to have you back. I hope you join me in embracing a new year full of endless possibilities. Did you make any New Year’s resolutions? Our family started a fun, possibly new tradition on December 21, 2024, which was the darkest day of the year, it was Winter’s solstice. Each of us took 10 little pieces of paper and wrote an “actionable” wish we desired for 2025. Then we all put our wishes into our own little red paper cup.

Each night, we would take one of the wishes out and without reading it, we would burn it in a pot. On New Year’s Eve, each of us had one wish left. This wish, we opened, and read out loud to the family. We all laughed over the ones that were left for us to read. (Mine was a wish to spend more time with each of my children!) Then we all trooped outside into the bitter cold and inky darkness; the last night of the year. As our final wishes burned, it was exciting and rather magical. I imagined the golden flames were transforming our wishes and handing them over to our Universe’s higher power, which I felt knew exactly how to help us bring them to fruition.

Dreams and wishes come true!

Also, there was something mystical and powerful about starting this ritual on the darkest day of the year and taking our wishes every day closer to the light. With this thought in mind,

New Year’s Day was truly a fresh start.

I plan to take all of the ashes from our pot and dig them into the garden. Perhaps, the secret to growing a bumper crop of vegetables is planting them above our wishes!

And so the New Year has begun. Harrison flew back to his new home in Vancouver. Alyssa returned to her relatively new job locally. And the kids returned to school. Life hums with music, bounces with basketball, and strokes by with swimming practices and running commitments at the gym. With the kids so active, it’s nice for me to make dinner earlier in the day. That way, all I have to do is put a casserole dish in the oven, make a salad and I know we have a nutritious meal to come home to.

Shepherd’s Pie has always been one of our family’s comfort foods so I thought I would share my recipe with you. I’m not surprised that our family enjoys this dish, since it originates in England and Ireland, which is where our ancestors hail from. I believe lamb was often their source of protein though, however I use ground beef. If you want to make a vegetarian version, you can easily use lentils instead of the meat. If I don’t have very much hamburger, I will also add lentils to extend the protein quantity, as I’m feeding three teens now. It’s nice to have these quick, easy dinners to make in the winter and I find it freezes well too. It’s also relatively frugal, which is one of my goals this year; to live more simply and mindfully with regards to our pocketbook.

Okay, ready to cook? Here’s my Easy Shepherd’s Pie recipe: I hope you enjoy it as much as we do. Let’s hit the kitchen.

Shepherd’s Pie….a perfect winter meal

Ingredients:

Meat Filling/bottom layer

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 cup chopped yellow onion

1 lb of beef hamburger/lamb or lentils

2 teaspoons dried parsley leaves

1 teaspoon dried rosemary leaves

1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

2 garlic cloves -minced

2 tablespoons all purpose flour

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 cup beef broth

1 cup frozen mixed peas and carrots or mixed vegetables….I love peas. I know weird hey as many people don’t but my Irish Grandma, Flossie Kilfoyle Clark said, “eating peas puts hair on your chest!” (I think this meant it made you stronger at least I hope that’s what she meant)

1/2 cup frozen corn kernels….optional….this makes the pie sweeter

Potato Topping:

6 Large russet potatoes or 8 medium

1/2 cup butter

1/4 to 1/2 cup of milk….the greater the fat the better

1 tsp garlic powder

Salt and Pepper to taste

Dried Parsley to sprinkle on top

Instructions

Make the Meat Filling and get potatoes cooked

(Cut the potatoes into cubed chunks and place into large pot of boiling, salted water. Cook until tender. When the potatoes are cooking, make the meat filling below)

Saute the onions in oil. Add ground beef/lamb or soaked lentils. Cook well. Add spices and cook until well combined

Add the worcestershire sauce and the garlic. Add the flour and tomato paste. Once it thickens add the broth and vegetables.

Bring everything to a bubbly boil and then simmer for around 5 minutes.

When the meat filling is simmering you can drain your cooked potatoes, mash them, add the butter, milk, garlic and salt and pepper. Sometimes I add a few tablespoons of sour cream too.

Finally, pour the meat filling in a large casserole dish and top it with the mashed potatoes. Sprinkle with parsley and if you want some parmesan cheese too.

Bake in preheated oven at 375 degrees F for 30 mins

While the Shepherd’s pie is baking, make a green salad. I often serve the casserole with a piece of my sourdough bread too…..of which I will be sharing an updated recipe with you soon as I’m getting really good at making it. See picture of a yummy loaf below.

Enjoy!

(I’ve been meaning to share this recipe for almost 2 years…..hence the date stamp on the photos, ha! Finally, finally have got it up on my blog…..see, some of my wishes are already coming true.)

Above is a pic of one of my sourdough bread loaves…..I promise I will get my latest recipe on my blog soon as there is nothing like sourdough bread to go with a plate of Shepherd’s Pie.

And along with a plate of comfort food, I thought I would include the “Happy New Year’s,” video I made today of our kids, Will, Kathryn and Victoria playing a celtic tune they learned last year. Since Shepherd’s pie heralds from the U.K. it seems appropriate to share it at the end of this post. So without further ado, here is The Second String Trio, our kids playing; “Si Bheag Si Mhor,” A Celtic Fiddle Tune, which they call, “So Big, So little.” We have to thank Will’s cello teacher for suggesting they play this. She even found the music for them. Thank you M for all you do!

Finally, they played this piece and several more at our little town’s garden tour last spring which raised money for the Hospice House.

I hope you enjoy it and the magic of wishes made at this time of the year allow all your dreams to come true. I’m a GREAT believer in wishes and dreams coming true. All I have to do is look at my three youngest and I know magic exists in the world.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

What Scares Us?…and Pumpkin Cookies for Bec

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(Above: Post Office 1915, in Greenwood, B.C. A story of my haunted experience is below but click this link to read more about Greenwood, B.C.)

The scary season is almost upon us. This past weekend, our twin daughter’s, Kathryn and Victoria, decorated our front door with stickers, a homemade creepy spider, a glouish demon that makes spine chilling noises when he’s bumped and to finish the scene, some corn stalks with threads of sticky spider web material, which the girls hope will entice trick or treaters to visit our house this Halloween.

Along with these decorations, a week ago we took the kids to our local pumpkin patch where they found six huge pumpkins. When they came home they scattered them along the path to our front door. As if this weren’t enough, they decided to put on a scary movie (Annabelle) and make a paper mache zombie in our family room.

As they jumped and screamed over the satanic antics in the movie, I was more horrified by the thick glue on their fingers and wondered what my family room was going to look like after they finished their craft project. But seriously, I hope the’re having fun creating these seasonal memories. What really scares me most this season is not the glue from their paper mache zombie getting everywhere, but the upcoming election in the States. After the last election when there was terrible unrest culminating in a riot at the Capital on Januaury 6th, 2020, I’m praying this year’s election will be more peaceful. I can hope can’t I? Along the lines of what scares me, I thought this was the perfect time to share a story from my past. So grab some popcorn, a cup of something spicy and warm and join me as I reminisce and tell a story from my chilidhood.

Maybe this story will prompt a question in your mind too….”What scares YOU?”

“When I was ten, my older sister Cherie and her husband David invited me to come and stay with them for part of the summer in their rented home in Greenwood, B.C.. Greenwood was once a booming mining town at the turn of the century. Copper, silver and even gold were found in that area, and it was once a thriving city. However, in 1970, it was just a sleepy, little community with ancient crumbling homes and remnants from long ago mining activity littering the valley.

(A tiny glimpse of historic downtown Greenwood, B.C.)

Cherie and David’s rented home was on the east hill above the downtown area. It was a tall, skinny Victorian with faded and peeling paint. It had seen better days. I’ll never forget how excited I was to see inside for the first time. “Cherie,” I said, “can I explore?” She laughed and said, “explore away.” Like a curious kitten I leaped from room to room. In the foyer, there was a steep, narrow stairway heading upstairs. Off to the right was the living room, which ran the length of the house. Cherie’s talent for decorating made this area feel cozy, with brightly painted second hand furniture and on the big comfy couch was a large, colourful throw. Some of Cherie’s paintings and sketches, an eclectic mix, hung on the walls or were leaning against them, making the room feel like an art studio. A well worn black, wooden rocking chair was in one corner. 

The old fashion kitchen was off to the left, and while the simple white cabinets and appliances weren’t exciting, Cherie had placed a vase of wild flowers in the middle of the kitchen table, making the room feel welcoming. Off the kitchen, to the back of the house, was another room.  When I entered, a icy blast of air made me shiver. Non descript, dungy wallpaper was pasted on every wall but was peeling at every seam. At one time it must have been a pretty room, as a large window looked out over an overgrown and weedy perennial garden. The room was starkly empty, except for one small, gold framed picture hanging on the wall near the door. Peering closely I saw it was an ancient picture of a dour faced Saint. Perhaps Russian in style, as the colours although faded, were bright blues and reds. A faint halo glowed around the Saint’s sad face. As I stood looking at this picture, goosebumps rose on my arms and a dank smell grew stronger. There was something not right in this room. I didn’t linger there long.

I never entered this room again.

The first morning I was there, David left for work  and Cherie asked, “Debbie, do you want some granola?” While Corn Flakes were my latest obsession, I wanted to appear grown up so I told her, “Yeah, tha’d be cool.” Munching on the oats, seeds and nuts, Cherie poured herself a cup of coffee and then casually walked across the kitchen to the back room door. Pulling it closed she shared over her shoulder, “Since we don’t need this room, we try to keep the door closed.” I just nodded my head as that made sense,  but later that morning when I went to the kitchen for a snack, I noticed the door was half opened. Before leaving the kitchen, I nervously went over and quickly shut the door. That was a regular occurrence; one of us would close the door and then later mysteriously it would open. 

My favourite activity that summer was drawing in the sketch pad Cherie had given me. I would sit on the big comfy couch in the living room experimenting with the charcoal sketching pencils and oil pastels she had encouraged me to try, while Cherie painted at the other end of the room, where she’d set up her easel. One afternoon, she joined me on the couch and while she played her guitar and quietly sang, I sketched. In our comfortable companionship we were relaxed and feeling at ease, until the air in the room suddenly shifted. 

My eyes popped open when the rocking chair started moving. I looked to see if the curtains were fluttering but there was no breeze in the room. I glanced at Cherie to see if she’d noticed too but she appeared to be acting normal. Unconcerned, she just uncrossed her legs, stood up and put her guitar down and then asked if I wanted to go for a walk to get an ice cream. Once outside, walking in the sun I let my shoulders drop. I never asked Cherie if she had sensed the energy changing in the room or witnessed the rocking chair creaking back and forth. Looking back at the summer and being with my big sister, I think I wanted to be treated older. Also, knowing her to be super sensitive, I’m sure she picked up on the ghostly energy in that house, but she obviously didn’t want to draw attention to it and scare me. Although we never talked about it, we had an unspoken code;

if we didn’t say anything, maybe it’d go away.

But it didn’t.

The ultimate scare happened in the depths of darkness one night nearing the end of my visit. Normally a deep sleeper, I suddenly woke with the feeling that someone was standing beside my bed. I never opened my eyes and I couldn’t yell for Cherie and David, who were just sleeping in the next room to me. I was absolutely frozen. I didn’t even pull the covers over my head. I was terrified of whatever was standing beside me. I knew I had to pretend to remain asleep and hoped whatever was there would finally leave. After a few minutes, the feeling of being watched left me. I never felt comfortable in that room again and I hated going to bed.

That summer I discovered it wasn’t just Cherie and David’s house that was haunted. One day Cherie and I took a tour of the historic Greenwood Courthouse, which at the turn of the century had served as the Supreme Court of British Columbia and the County Court for the Southern County of Yale.  From that court, there had been many judicial proceedings, which included several death by hanging sentences being pronounced, as a result of murders in the area. At the time of our visit, it was being used as a musuem, where one could tour around at ones leisure.

(Greenwood, B.C. Courthouse. If you want to read more about it click on this link. )

During our self guided tour, we admired the extensive use of glowing cedarwood and stain glass works in the actual courtroom, where an old musty smell of leather and books was prevalent. Other than being impressed by the rich formality of it all, I didn’t feel anything unusual until we started heading down the cement stairs to where the jail had held prisoners. It was then I started feeling a heavy presence. With each step the air grew thicker along with the lack of light. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest when we peered into one of the cold jail cells and it was then I heard a sound of shuffling followed by a distant cry. I don’t know if Cherie heard it too but I know she shared my anxiousness because we didn’t remain in that basement long. I couldn’t climb those stairs fast enough. What a tremendous relief I felt to get out of that building.

There were so many fun moments that summer with Cherie and David but when it was time for me to leave, I was rather glad. I think I’d been holding my breath the whole time, worried I’d actually see something I didn’t want to.

Sometimes, not seeing anything, but knowing it’s there is scarier. “

BOO!!!!….and now, my dear readers, that is “The End”

Did you like my ghost story?

Did it make you think of things that have scared you? Or are scaring you?

Like this crazy time on earth when we seem to be battling against moving into the 5th dimension and so many fearful souls are trying to keep us back from progressing as we evolve into more loving humans. Now THAT’S a big scare to me. But we are getting there. I’m sure of it and I’m trusting that in the upcoming U.S. Election voices will unite and goodness will prevail. The only thing haunting me now is wondering what we have to endure over the next few years until everyone gets onboard. I’m concerned because the path the Americans choose will impact the world and certainly us here in Canada.

I was thinking this morning that what we are going through is a bit like moving out of that haunted house into the sunlight.

Hold onto Hope. Hold onto Joy!!!

Before I close this post though I want to share my Pumpkin Cookie recipe. At the beginning of last summer, (in time for our oldest son Clark’s wedding) our second oldest son Mitchell came home from Australia and introduced us to his partner Bec. It wasn’t easy for me saying goodbye to Mitchell five years ago, when he decided to move to Australia but deep down I knew an adventure was waiting for him. I also had a feeling that he would meet more of his people while there. You know, it’s hard to say goodbye to a child, even once he’s grown up, but letting kids go out into the world means you’ve done your job well. (this is what I tell myself) It means you’ve created global citizens who are strong and independent. Also, you never know how they will touch the world and who they will meet along the way. That’s why I was so excited to meet Bec. She’s everything I wanted in a partner for Mitchell; loving, kind, thoughtful, and intelligent. Getting to know her reminds me we have family all over the world, we just don’t know their names.

(Above, My beloved son Mitchell and beautiful Bec)

One thing I learned about Bec is that she loves pumpkin pie. Also, recently she asked Mitchell to see if I had any pumpkin cookie recipes and lo and behold, do cats meow? (she loves cats too) YES, I do. Shortly after he asked me about the pumpkin cookie recipe I whipped up a batch and took a few pictures.

So Bec, this post is dedicated to you.

Sorry it’s coming a bit late but Halloween season is pumpkin season here in Canada. I don’t know if you will appreicate the scary part of this post or not, but I hope you are able to try out this recipe and tell me what you think. Maybe you can tweak it a bit and make it your own. This is after all how the best recipes evolve, as do our families.

To all my other blogging family and friends, thanks for visiting today. As the season of scare unfolds, I hope you will join me in sending love out into the world. While we munch on pumpkin cookies and a few Halloween treats remember, we can do anything and we are stronger together.

And if you want to stay around to make some pumpkin cookies with me, steep another cup of tea or brew some more coffee and join me in the kitchen. Let’s make some…..

Hope’s Pumpkin Cookies

This is an “easy peasy” recipe as you just mix all the wet together first, mix the dry together together second and then add the dry to the wet and mix until well combined….I use my mixer but this is an easy recipe to whip up with a good wooden spoon and spatula.

This cookie batter will be very moist and does need a long time to cook to firm up but the cookie is lovely and soft…mouth watering.

Preheat the Oven to 375 degrees….get out a cookie sheet…ungreased or use a piece of parchment paper…see below, btw..we grew that pumpkin on the stool! I threw some seeds randomly in the garden and grew 3 pumpkins.

Ingredients

11/4 cups brown sugar

1/2 cup margarine or butter

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

1 can of pumpkin (15 ounces) (Notice in the picture I used a large tin…I use the left overs to make pumpkin lattes….yummy!)

3 cups of flour

4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp sea salt

1/2 tsp cinnamon/ 1/2 tsp nutmeg/ 1/2 tsp ginger/ 1/4 tsp cloves

Optional: 1 cup of chocolate chips and 1/2 cup of walnuts…. deluxe! Place a large piece of walnut on top as a garnish

Drop teaspoon size cookies onto an ungreased cookie sheet and cook for 12 to 15 minutes at 375 degrees.

Let cool for a few minutes and then place on cooling racks. While still warm I sprinkle the cookie with icing sugar and then comes the BEST PART…….eat with someone you LOVE!

Happy Halloween 

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Above is a picture snapped when Mitchell and Bec were visiting….it’s the family hug we do…but you are right there with us…we are all family!!!

When there is love in the room nothing is scary!

Do Something More

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Dear family and friends,

Thank you for coming to visit. As I wrote to my oldest sister the other day, fall is literally falling by in my part of the world. It’s crazy how fast Autumn is moving. I want to slow down. I want to savour the season. But it’s only as I move from house to car and back again when the crisp, clear air hits me and my breath slows. When I’m driving our kids to school, or to their various activities, I take the route through the oldest part of our little town so I can appreciate the deep crimson and bright gold leaves fluttering to the ground, covering yards likre brilliant jewels. Even though life is busy, it’s moments like this, when Autumn captures my heart. (During our Thanksgiving weekend we took our kids to our local pumpkin patch…they are growing up so fast!)

It’s a slow Sunday morning here. My husband David took our girls to an out of town swim meet this weekend. I chose to stay home. There will be several others this fall that I can attend, cheering my girls as they race to improve their swim times. They are busy this fall. Along with their group music lessons and their private ones, they are also playing volleyball and now you know why I spend a lot of time enjoying the seaon on the go, as life is busy. I also stayed home because our son Will wanted to have a friend over on Saturday night and well, someone has to supervise these active 15 year olds and even though they are relatively independant, someone has to feed them.

So I stayed home.

I had time to reflect as I sip my pumpkin spice lattes while sitting on our kitchen’s window seat looking out at the changing weather. It’s been a rainy weekend. I was hoping to plant my garlic but instead I’m feeding boys. I’m also thinking about how our world is changing. So much division, and yet when things fall apart, there is always hope when they come back together again our life will be even better.

Last night I watched the results come in from our Province’s election and this morning I’m sad to say there still isn’t a clear winner. Some of the races are within a hundred or less votes, which means recounting must take place before a winner can be announced. This isn’t a good sign. This means our Province is divided almost equally. What I’d like to see is progress but when two parties are so divided there’s a good possibility there may be in fighting and stale mates when our government officials do reconvene in our Province’s legislature building in Victoria. (At least that is what the Conservative leader, John Rustad said last night when most of the votes were counted, “I’ll keep fighting.”)

What’s happening here though is not unusual. There’s so much division all over the world. In my last post I was talking about the upcoming election in the United States. Other than the fact that they are our southern cousins, my mom was born in the States and if her family hadn’t travelled north and settled in Canada I may have been one too. I’ve been an avid political junkie lately. My family will tell you it’s getting serious how fixated I am towards listening to the daily news and watching the pre election polls. But heading into this election it appears there is still no decisive leader. Republican/Democate, toss the coin. It’s scary to me as anyone watching from the sidelines with any sense of intelligence should be able to see who is acting like a grown up and capable of being their next President.

BTW…I think I have found my people. My American would be friends. I’ve been watching a funny and interesting podcast lately called, “I’ve Had It.” If you want a peak at their latest rant check it out.

I guess what bothers me most as I watch all the news coverage is all the the negative rhetoric thrown down from the Replican leader Trump like a medieval gauntlet threatening war. Everyone is talking about the economy and immigration being the big issue but I personally believe the greatest thing at stake in this election is democracy. What they really need at this conjuncture is a leader who abides by the U.S. constituion, which has held them togther for 240 years. Did I mention since Trump incited a riot on Januaury 6, 2020 to prevent the new democratic party from taking office, he obviously isn’t upholding any democratic oath he took when he became President in 2016. I personally think he should be in jail for inciting the riot and not even have the opportunity to run for office again. (It’s funny how the Republicans, who are voting for him have forgotten all about January 6th, like it’s some sort of ancient history)

But hey, maybe they don’t care about democracy and want an autocratic leader telling them what to do. Just as a reminder, in case you were deep in isolation from Covid and missed this big news day, below is a snippet of the speech Trump’s lawyer, Rudy Giuliani., and Trump himself gave his supporters encouraging them to go to the Capital to fight “the steal.” on January 6, 2020. Trump said he was going to be there with them but he was back at the White House’s dining room sipping on a Diet Coke while watching his supporters storm the capital. He didn’t tell them to back down for hours! By that time many people were injured, one person died and the capital had been violently breeched.

Wasn’t that something! It shocks me all over again every time I watch it. It reminds me as a mom, I have a responsibility to teach my children to uphold the law, be respectful of others, but most important of all, be critical thinkers, so they never become puppets like Trump’s supporters are in my opinion. When our children have differences we try to teach them to be civil, kind, and find ways to compromise.

This is what I wish our leaders would demonstrate for future generations. Why do some elections seem to revert to them versus us? What happened to WE?

Recently, I read something (by Neil Crone) that made me laugh regarding how our U.S. neighbours are acting prior to this election and I thought I would share it here in case you didn’t see it. I wish I had written it, as it’s spot on with regards to how I feel and what I’d like to say to my American cousins. What worries me though is that we Canadians are headed in the same direction. I see such agression from our Province’s (and Federal) Conservatives, both in their speech and even on their bumper stickers. Of course, I support free speech but can’t one be polite? Many are just rude!

I’d like to say to my fellow Canadians, let’s not lose our ability to be kind. Let’s not lose our ability to speak our truths in a civil voice. Let’s not forget how to compromise and remember many of us came here as immigrants and we are lucky to live in such a beautiful country. Let’s take care of it, and take care of each other. Let love be our guide. Does that sound too Pollyannaish? Sorry, but I think we need is to go back to a time when we lived with a few golden rules guiding us, Like: “Treat others as you would like others to treat you,” “If you don’t have something nice to say, maybe don’t say anything at all.” In addition to having higher minded values….maybe we could also throw some humour on the table between us.

My husband David is good at humour. I personally think it’s a sign of intelligence. He finds many things funny and ironic. He lives the Win/Win philosophy. Finding humour in all things, even the difficult differences we have with others makes life bearable. Laughing with each other helps connect our souls.

And so this is my, “Do Something More,” speech/post that Michelle Obama talked about during the Democratic National Convention last summer. Even though I have no skin in this game, I see our country following suit if we don’t remember who we are; first global citizens on this big beautiful blue and green marble, cousins to the United States peoples but also proud Canadians.

We must not lose our love of the earth, or our love for each other, because if we do that,

We are all losers!

Now without further ado, let’s sprinkle some joy and kindness and a bit of humour…. here is the sensational piece written by Neil Crone, which I want to share with you.

Until we meet again bro, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Silence on Mother’s Day

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We humans crave peace and quiet, yet we rally above it with a clamour of discontent, as we war among ourselves. It’s enough to make me shudder, and my teeth ache over the senselessness of all the chaos happening in our world. I’ve been thinking of this and also a story from my childhood and any serene moments that I’ve tried to shift my thoughts to instead, are disturbed by an inner turbulent dialogue. From a past muted mist, the following emerges like an incessant docudrama.

The first scene is me sitting in a dark basement apartment with furniture from the 50’s, but it’s January 1977. I’m six months away from graduating from grade twelve. I’m lonely, with only dead silence for company. In the next scene, I’m squirreled away in a bedroom with real grown up furniture and it’s 2024. Desperately I’m typing. I’ve been trying to write my memoir. It’s slow going but page by page it’s being written, despite the erupting cacophony from the floor above. Is there ever silence in this house? There is a knock, a head peaks in. I don’t look up but respond tersely, “I’m writing.” The door closes again. Perhaps, this story can only be written in the wee hours on Mother’s day. I wish I could sleep but sometimes I think, I just need to get it out or I’ll explode, so here I am finally, with the house breathtakingly still, typing my past away so I can finally fall back to sleep.

This story is dedicated to my mom. I wonder what she would make of it. 

Under our deck and next to our grape trellis, a family of Robins have built a cozy nest. I  didn’t notice it until I was doing some grape pruning and mama Robin surprised me when she flew out and away from her babies. Watching her leave took me way back and I wondered if my own mom had observed how mama birds made their babies fly, by kicking them out of the nest. Perhaps she may have thought that was a bit harsh. And with that mindset, when she became a mother and her fledgling babies, my three sisters and I were getting to the age of  flying, she decided it would be a good idea to leave the nest first. 

And not come back.  

I’ll never know if it was a conscious decision. Maybe it was just a convenient series of life events and circumstances that created each leaving occurance. Kind of like when I was about to turn 16 and apply for my driver’s licence, when interestingly enough my parents decided to sell their second car.  I never learned to drive until I was out on my own. But I digress, whether the whole leaving thing was well thought out or not, it all felt like abandonment to me. Obviously it still bothers me or I wouldn’t be lying awake writing it down. I won’t go into the details over each departure, but suffice it to say, when my own children were born, like a scratch on a record that ruins the music, my mother’s choice(s) made me sing another tune to my kids. With a reassuring rhythm I told them I’d always be there for them and they’d always have a home. 

I started singing that song thirty four years ago and since then, our house has gotten progressively louder and noisier as our eight children were born one by one, or in the case of our twins, two by two. Yes, booming bedlam would be an apt description for our household. Did I mention that along with the regular racket that comes from a family of ten, our kids all play(ed) several instruments between them? A typical day would begin as our oldest woke the household with a steady beat of scales played on the piano. This would go on for an hour before the school bus arrived. Then upon returning home, each would take up their respective instrument and violin, cello, drums and guitar chords could be heard spilling from all the various rooms.

Thankfully, flute, alto sax and bass guitar were mainly practiced at school and our daughter Grace, who took voice lessons, only ever sang in her bedroom. If I’d have been smart, I would have had them all play piano, ‘cause unlike a lot of instruments, it’s always in tune. Also, if I’d been thinking clearly I would have spaced our kids closer together, so I’d be living in a calm house at this time but no, like a crazy woman on a mission, I spaced them out to enjoy them fully and experience this whole messy motherhood gig to the hilt. Happy Mother’s Day to me! At this precise moment, we have five kids in the house. We were down to four, but then our oldest decided to return for a while.  

Being the oldest, she heard my song and dance routine longer than everyone else and I guess she took me at my word. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad she’s back, but if there wasn’t enough commotion in our house, she has moved back home with two cats, one being extremely noisy. The word, caterwauling comes to mind when Emy’s insistent yowls echo through our four walls. Add that to the pandemonium my youngest twin daughter’s make on a regular basis, along with their teenage brother, and a Mack truck could drive through my kitchen at dinner time and I’d hardly notice. 

Lately in the wee hours of the morning when my bladder reminds me that yes, I did have eight children. I’m rewarded with a bit of hushed stillness as I lay back in bed and sigh. I could almost slip back into oblivion except my peace is disturbed when my monkey brain starts swinging on my upcoming todo list. Or in the case of this story that just wants to be written. There are times I wish I was a painter instead. I’ll have to ask my sister C, if she wakes up in the early hours to paint a picture. Wait, actually, I think she doesn’t even go to bed some nights as she paints into the wee hours.

Anyway… It’s times like this that I start counting the years until any possible tranquility will be mine and I almost laugh out loud.

Maybe this is why mom left us; to find some peace.

That’s when I also hear my husband’s imagined voice telling me, “Lee, you’ll have peace and silence when you’re dead.” Speaking of husbands, I could probably fall back to sleep easier if he weren’t lying next to me rhythmically breathing so peacefully beside me. It’s unnerving and incredibly annoying. I want to hit him and wake him up so I can sleep. But I don’t. Even the glow from my computer and the click, click, click of my typing doesn’t wake him. How lucky some people are I think. Somewhere in our house a phone is vibrating. A message is coming through and I think, “don’t people ever sleep?”

Taking slow relaxing breaths, I notice that our white bedroom curtains are lightening, and through our slightly opened window I hear a few early birds welcoming the day with happy chirps. I’m not amused, but I wonder if that isn’t my mama Robin singing wake up, wake up to her babies. I look at my illuminated Fit bit and see it’s now 4:30 am. It’s time to wrap up this story. 

Three more hours until I want to wake up. That is, if I ever get back to sleep. The weather has been unseasonably warm and I want to plant my vegetable garden. Digging in the dirt, even on Mother’s day is my happy place. A car drives by below our house and across the lake, a steady din from the highway is noticeable. Other people are awake and going places early on this Mother’s day. I want to go back to sleep but more mom thoughts come to mind. She’s been gone twelve years now. There are days when I wish I could just pick up the phone and hear her voice.  I have things I still want to ask her. Things I want to know.

My body starts feeling heavy under our weightless down comforter and any thoughts start wandering away with gentle ease. I’m typing fewer words and finally I close my computer lid and set it aside. I’m entering an empty vastness. A place where I am free. I’m home in silence and peace. I start to float up and up and away from this earthly body with any concerns or worry. Drifting off now the last thing I hear coming from deep in my heart on this Mother’s day are the words, 

“you are so loved my little bird.” 

I let those words be the last thing I hear. I know I will remember them upon waking and I will write them down. 

I love you too mom. Happy Mother’s Day!

Above, my mom with my three older sisters and my Dad’s parents, Bob and Flossie Clark. Below is my family, Mom, Dad and my sisters…I really like this picture because it’s one where my mom is holding me and she is so stunningly beautiful.

Above is a picture from one of the last birthdays we celebrated with my mom. Her birthday was often the first day of Spring, March 20th so while she is always in my heart, this time of year she is more so…and of course today on Mother’s day. Even when our moms may not be with us any longer, they are always with us. And finally, I’m able to put any sense of abandonment I felt when she left me in Grade twelve to rest. I’m at peace. I’ve written them down and let them go. As I have learned, being a mom is a tough job. I think my mom always did it with grace, dignity and lots of humour…oh and MUCH LOVE. She’s a tough act to follow!

Happy Mother’s Day mom!

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Saying Goodbye to our Beloved Cat

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Ryuuki, or Yuuki, (YouKee) left this earth last Wednesday. (August 25, 2008- May 1, 2024)

Not being a stranger to losing loved ones, (my grandparents, my dad, my mom, other beloved pets) having to say goodbye to our cat Yuuki hit me like a ton of bricks, falling from the heavens. It’s not like we didn’t know this day was coming. In the last year, he’d been slowing down more and more, but it was still shocking how fast his condition deteriorated and how quickly we had to decide (with our vet’s advice) to let him go.

When I think of saying goodbye to Yuuki, the goodbye/birthday speech that the character Bilbo, from the “Lord of the Rings,’ gave comes to mind. In his speech, and before he puts the ring on and vanishes he says the following:

“First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all, and that eleventy-one years is too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

Yuuki was the most excellent and admirable cat! I wonder if he’d have said the same about us…his humans. We loved him dearly but I think he loved us even better and was so tolerate. He came into our busy home filled with five kids and before he was a year old our number 6th kid, Will was born. As if our house wasn’t noisy enough, two years later our twin daughters, Kathryn and Victoria arrived. As he welcomed our new family members, he also said fond goodbyes, as each of our older children left home. He never forgot them though and the moment he heard their voice, his ears would perk up and he’d love them as fiercely as if they hadn’t left. My oldest son Clark and I actually brought him home when my oldest daughter Alyssa was starting her first year of University in Victoria.

It all started with a simple Siamese kitten advertisement in the paper. Yes, in those days we got our news via our hometown paper.

The ad said he was an 8 week old, purebread Siamese, but I knew as soon as I saw him that he was not; purebread that is. His Seal point mom was very pretty though with light fur and very black points. The seller never told us who the father was and I never asked. Looking back, I don’t think I really cared too much. He was a cat that needed a home and we were a family that needed a cat. We loved his little spit fire personality from the get go. He had a sister too, but she was very skittish. She didn’t even come close to us as her brother checked us out and crawled all over us. I took one look at Clark and we nodded and smiled at each other. We knew we were bringing that ball of white fluff home.

I’m surprised I found a baby picture of Yuuki sleeping because he was ripping around our house from the moment we let him out of the cat carrier. One day he was running so fast from the laundry room (kitty litter room) and couldn’t slow down before he catapulted through the upstairs railing and down to the lower level. I thought for sure he’d be badly hurt but he picked himself up, looked a bit embarrassed and kept on going.

(Above, Yuuki looking down through that railing he fell through as a kitten)

Yuuki was a true family cat. He loved us all and spread his shining energy and love around.

Above, Will and Yuuki grew up together. Will was born in June 2009 and Yuuki turned one in August. In Yuuki’s last years, one of the things he liked best was when Will would give him a “BIG stretch,” extending his front legs up…I think it helped his old bones and muscles. Will was also the one to give him a nickname…”Skuuki.” Don’t ask me where that came from but to Will he was his little Skuuki boy.

When Alyssa came home from University that first summer (2009) she and Yuuki formed a tight bond. Alyssa was the one who actually named him. Since she was away at University I thought it would be nice for her to feel a connection to him so we asked her to find a name for him. She suggested Ryuuki, after she heard he was such a tiny little ball of big energy. Translanted Ryuuki means, “Little Dragon,” which is a lucky name in Chinese.

We were the lucky ones.

Below, Yuuki sleeping in one of his favourite laps in the summer of 2009…Alyssa’s.

Over the years, Yuuki was with us every season and every celebration. He loved them all and unlike some cats who may find crowds and chaos difficult, he was always right in there with us, for birthdays and Christmases. He especially liked family dinner, when in his later years, my husband David relented and let him sit on the window seat where our twins sat to eat dinner. He was so polite and never begged for food. He just wanted to be with the gang.

(From the time Yuuki was little he liked Christmas, the lights, the presents, the wrapping paper and everyone home to play with too…I think it was his favourite holiday for sure ever since he was a little guy)

When Yuuki arrived on the scene in the fall of 2008, he was not our only cat. In December of 2001, we adopted May Ling and her sister Misumi. Sadly, Misumi was killed in a car accident in Aug, 2007. After grieving her loss we decided to get a friend for May Ling the following year and that is when Yuuki came on the scene. Below, a lovely picture of May Ling. She was the sweetest cat. Gentle and very affectionate. I believe I have written about her loss on my blog. For many years she and Yuuki shared many family memories together. (Then one day, she just disappeared…we never knew what happened to her…I think that was hard on Yuuki and of course on us too)

(Yuuki and May Ling…they were good friends and it was always nice to have someone else to take a cat nap with)

I want to share a few pictures now, going down memory lane with Yuuki in our lives because I know he will remain in our family’s heart for the rest of our lives. It’s nice to have a place to visit and remember this most excellent and admirable cat!

Above, Mitchell loved Yuuki and was devastated to hear he had passed away. It’s tough when your family pet leaves and you aren’t able to say goodbye but Mitchell…he will always be in your heart so he hasn’t really left.

Like Mitchell, telling Harrsion that Yuuki had passed away was so difficult. He told me that when he read my note he had to leave work and let the news sink in as it was so hard. It is never easy saying goodbye to those we love, but maybe it helps to think of them as just away. Does that help?

Above, Grace and Yuuki studying psychology….he kept her company during many essay writing sessions in the last three years! Plus, she had the furry blanket he liked best in our house.

And when Victoria and Kathryn moved into their new room and we hadn’t even started decorating it yet, Yuuki claimed a new place to sleep. The last night he was alive he slept on this same bed with Victoria. In the last five days he was with us, he spread his love around sleeping with each of us, one last time. The Sunday before he passed, I spent the entire day in bed with him….him sleeping, curled up under my left arm while I ploughed through a novel and then watched a Netflix series. This is a comforting memory for me as I didn’t rush around on this day. Maybe we both sensed we needed to rest and connect one last time.

Yuuki wasn’t just a fair weather friend. If we were outside, he was outside. He loved scratching on the wooden retaining wall next to our drive way. He was with us in every season.

And he was with us in every celebration too…above he is in our Christmas photo…actually he made it into several over the years.

One of Yuuki’s favourite places of all time is to sit in front of the fireplace in our family room…and a close second was in the patio chairs down by the pool in the summer. Late on a summer’s day, as night was drawing near, if we were looking for him, he could often be found snoozing in one of the patio chairs sitting under the stars.

Last Christmas, as I was getting the attic room ready for Harrison to use when he came home, Yuuki was helping me make the bed. He liked it up in the attic too as it is a peaceful place. I remember taking this picture because I was wanting to get the picture of the room and send it off to Harrison saying, “come home soon, you’re room is all ready,” and Yuuki wanted to get in on the action too. He liked having his picture taken and he was such a handsome little furry guy.

Oh, to lay on the warm aggregate at our front door was another fav spot…and I think this day we must have been having a party and probably Victoria had given him the gift of a bow. He was always right in the middle of any party.

The above picture is one of the last ones I took of Yuuki this Spring. He loved soaking up the sunshine. I’m so glad that we had several nice days this Spring for him to revel in the warmth. You know as his human, I wished he had been able to live longer but as the vet told us, he was a super senior and he did so well to live such a healthy long life. Below, I found this sweet poem that sounds like it was written in Yuuki’s voice. In the 151/2 years that he lived with us, he was always there at the door. Saying hello and saying goodbye. He was always this joyous presence that I will miss so very much. I know the kids will too because one of his fav times of day was around 3 pm, when all the kids would come home from school and they would give him love and he’d be there too reminding them that he was so happy to see them.

And because I can’t cry anymore today, I have to close this post. But before I do, I just want to share a parting thought regarding beloved pets. If this helps you take it in, if you believe something else, let it go. This is just my thoughts on parting from our furry family members.

Once the heavy grief has washed all your tears away and the numbness is ebbing a bit too, open up your heart a bit. Pull on that golden cord that connects us all and call your pets name. I know he or she will be right there with you so happy to be acknowledged because even if they aren’t with us physically any longer, they never actually leave us. They remain always in our heart.

And that’s when you tell them once again, “you are so loved!”

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

A Friendly Village and Minestrone Soup

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Homelessness is a big problem in Canada. When I did some research recently, this is the quote I found on the Stat’s Canada’s website.

 “In 2021, we asked Canadian households if they had ever experienced some form of homelessness in their lifetime. Over one in ten (11.2%) Canadians or 1,690,000 people reported that they had.

Homelessness is often thought of as living in a shelter, or completely unhoused in an encampment or public space. This kind of homelessness in Canada is referred to as absolute homelessness, an experience shared by 2.2% of households at some point in their lives. There are, however, many more Canadians (10.5%) who have experienced hidden homelessness, like couch surfing, because they had nowhere else to live.”

https://www.statcan.gc.ca/o1/en/plus/5170-homelessness-how-does-it-happen

These are scary stats in my opinion because if this can happen in a prosperous country, we know there are millions and millions of people all over the world experiencing the same kind of crisis. It’s traumatic not to have a home or a place where you feel you belong. What I think we need right now is the old Village mentality, where we all know each other and when one of us is having a hard time, instead of looking the other way, we all pull together and help our fellow villagers.

Recently our oldest daughter moved back home. She is well educated with two degrees. She has a wealth of experience on her resume. She is physically and mentally capable of working. What happened? Something that could happen to any of us at any time; she had a car accident which totalled her vehicle. Thankfully, she was not hurt but not having a car meant she was unable to get to her two jobs. Not being able to get to her jobs meant she could not afford her expensive housing in a big city. And how does one afford another vehicle if one isn’t able to get to work? It’s a catch 22 situation. The current economic situation in Canada, along with a lack of affordable housing and good job prospects means that many of us will find ourselves in a similar situation. Some may be working right now but are barely holding their heads above water. Many find their housing is held together by a thin string, that could snap at any time. About six weeks ago our daughter called home and basically said….

Thankfully we were in a position to move her and her two cats home but this has got me thinking about all the young people in her position who are a similar situation. I think of it as our modern day depression, like the dirty 30’s a hundred years ago. The only answer in dealing with this crisis that I keep coming back to time and time again is for all of us to pull together and bring back that old mentality of caring for others. Or is it too late? Has our society changed so much that we’ve lost a bit of our humanity? So much of our world now seems to be, Us Versus Them. I see it every time I turn on the news.

We are a society who don’t know our neighbours. We look the other way when we see a homeless person or someone with a sign asking for help. These people are falling through the cracks and we look the other way. In the old days our church groups used to help those less fortunate but church pews are empty these days. The younger generation is not finding what it needs any longer in a faith based society which makes me wonder, what kind of culture and mind set are we creating?

What are our values?

Are they only self based?

Last December, our violin teacher had a stack of Christmas cards and a list of seniors that she suggested our kids could write to during the holidays. Each week our girls would take several cards and work on them during their busy week of school, music, and swimming. They would return them and stroke the names of the ones they had completed off their list but looking at the list, it seemed like our kids were the only ones in the music studio doing any cards. I wondered why this was. Weren’t other parents suggesting that this was a small kindness that their children could perform for others? I realize that we are a busy society but surely if we can get our children to practice their instruments every day, we can get them to spend 15 minutes a week doing a small kindness for another person to lift them up and show they are loved.

When I was young, it was rare for shops to be open on Sunday. It was almost unheard of to have any kind of sports or child based activity happening. Rarely did people fly to Hawaii and Mexico and I didn’t know anyone going to Disneyland when I was a child. Now a days, people are shopping seven days a week, flying here and there at the drop of a hat. My kids are always telling me about friends who took a week off school to go away with their families on a week or two holiday. And it isn’t unusual to go away for a whole weekend to play in hockey tournaments, or even in our household, a swim meet, out of town last weekend. We are busy people and we are spending money…but what are we spending it on?

We are getting away from holding the seventh day of the week sacred. We are not stopping to think for even a hour about how we are living our life, or helping others. When I was a child there was always one day a week when I reflected and I had a Village reflecting with me. It was a day to hear a story of how we can live our lives better. while also thinking of how to help others. I don’t know about you, but in my world, we don’t have that any longer. There is no one shining a light on those less fortunate. Now when we see a homeless person on the street we look away because we think, “well what can I do? I’m only one person. I can’t make a difference in that person’s situation.” We’ve all lost that Village mentality, that sense of community.

And many of us have lost that older generation to guide us. That was the generation that lived in a Village and knew the power and hope it held. In those days there was no social safety net of Social Services or Employment Insurance. There were no disability payments or Worker’s Compensation. There was no Old Age Security or Retirement Benefits, and while there were soup kitchens, food banks didn’t exist. Our grandparents had family values and there was always a Village when times were tough. We relied on one another. Below are pictures of my Dad’s parents but I know my mom’s parents, particularly my grandma Herrling, was also kind hearted and there was always room at the table for someone passing through that needed help. Even if it was only one meal.

These are pictures of my dad’s parents, Flossie and Robert Clark. My mom and three older sisters are also in the picture below. I’m the baby.

So what can each of us do?

I guess that is the question for our generation and those of our children. In our family we have chosen to go and collect our daughter and bring her back home. I was mentioning to my older sister recently that our house is a bit like that Loaves and Fishes story from the Bible…there always seems to be enough room and food when we open our hearts.

And so that’s what each of us needs to do. I wrote a blog post recently called, “What would love do?” When that question is constantly on our lips and in our mindset, we know the path to take. We know what we must do. And for now, we squish over a bit, we make room in our home and we put another potato in the oven and then hold Hope in our hearts.

If you don’t know why I called my blog, Hope’s Homestead, it refers to the acronym, H.O.P.E, “Helping Our Planet Earth.” And I believe we need this more than ever. After all if we don’t have any hope, how can we go on? What propels us forward?

For now let that be enough. Move forward with hope, while always asking the question, “what would love do,” and remember that even though our world is big, we can choose to be just one Village. One Friendly Village where there is a place for each of us.

When we invited our daughter to move back home, we started preparing spaces where she could feel comfortable. Below are pictures of our little attic space where she can write and find retreat from our noisy household. There is also a T.V. up in this space if she wants to watch a movie.

This used to be an unused space above our garage that my husband spent one winter turning into a little hideaway retreat for our older children. When you have eight kids, everyone needs a place of their own to feel like they belong.

Above are pictures of what we call the “Harry Potter,” room. The closet is under the stairs so it seems like a fitting name, also, it’s super small. something like 7 feet by 13. (Before our youngest were born, it was our walk in closet but really, who needs this kind of space for clothes!!!) The mirror at the far end makes it seem bigger and also brings the light from the French door into the room. This is a cozy space. Probably the warmest in our house as it’s in the centre and has no outside windows. Perfect for welcoming our daughter back home. We would love to build a cottage in our backyard for a refuge for anyone that needs a home, but for now, this is a lovely space for our daughter and her two cats who love, the little loft space, above the built in day bed. (Below….my husband David and youngest son William, unload Alyssa’s worldly goods)

A few days ago, I posted a YouTube video about the dish set I found at the thrift store called, “A Friendly Village,” by the Johnson Bros from England. This is a traditional dinnerware pattern best known for its charming depictions of idyllic village scenes. First produced in 1953, this heirloom-quality pattern adds a timeless appeal to any table! Bringing it home reminded me of how life was when I was a child. We took care of each other. We were more family and Village centered then. I know it’s an ideal that is old fashion, but is it old fashion to care for one another?

It’s Sunday today. While yes, I’m writing this blog post, I’m going to take the time to go for a walk in nature. I’m going to come home and make a cup of tea and reflect on my life and how I’m walking my path. I’m going to think about how I can help others. And later, I’m going to make a big pot of soup and set my table with one more place setting for pur daughter. And if you want to see the new dish set I was able to find at the thrift store and check out my Minestrone soup recipe, check out the YouTube vlog I made recently.

Thank you for visiting today. Wherever you are, I hope you are caring for your Village too.




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Hope’s Minestrone Soup (recipe came from the book above that my older sister B gave me….she’s always caring for me and teaching me to reuse…thanks B!)

Ingredients

8 cups of vegetable stock

8 large or 12 medium tomatoes (I use my frozen tomatoes that I roasted with basil last summer…you can use a can of stewed)

3/4 cup kidney beans, soaked and cooked, makes about 21/4 cups. You can use canned as well as I did in my Vlog

3/4 chick peas, soaked and cooked…makes about 21/4 cups…dried beans and legumes is the frugal way to go

1 large onion

3 stalks of celery

1 small zucchini chopped and quartered

2 to 3 carrots chopped finely

3 tbsp tamari soy sauce

2 tbsp olive oil

2 tsp sea salt

2 cloves of garlic….more if you are like me

cayenne pepper to taste

Opt: 2/3 cup grated parmesan cheese

2/3 cup pasta…we use rotini

1 tsp parsley, basil, oregano….since this is an Italian Vegetable soup….all are recommended for authentic flavour (I added a bay leaf)

Directions

Saute the onions in oil and garlic in oil. Add the soup stock and vegetables Simmer about 40 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. Add the pre cooked beans, any herbs and remaining ingredients and cook for another 20 minutes. The parmesan cheese and noodles can be added if desired. Serve hot to your Village. Keeps in the refrigerator for up to a week.

Above my Minestrone soup with my homemade buns (and we stopped at our local Super Store for a roasted chicken and macaroni salad to round out our Sunday night dinner. Enough to feed a Village. (all on my new dish set, “The Friendly Village”….feeling so blessed. I hope when I’m long and gone, one of my kids keeps this dish set and remembers to set an extra place for someone in need)

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Experiencing Christmas

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Welcome to my blog. If you are new, I’d love to hear how you found my blog. Did you stumble upon it, or was it an intentional visit? I’d love to know whose reading or if I’m just mumbling out into space these days. I know we are in February and Valentine’s was just yesterday but you see, January was a write off for me as I had a bad ski accident at the end of December. Recently, I shared the experience with my writing group and thought, gee, maybe my blog friends and family would like to hear the story too. So without further ado, here is the story I wrote about our Christmas 2023 experience. At the end of this blog post, I will include the video I just made sharing snippets from our memorable ski holiday.

Grab a cup of coffee, tea or hot cocoa and I’ll tell you all about my recent holiday experience.

After taking down our 2022 Christmas tree, (yes, this all started over a year ago) and our older kids returned to their respective homes, I started contemplating how I wanted our next Christmas to look. After thirty years of buying all the gifts, wrapping them, decorating the house, baking dozens of cookies, and cooking the turkey with all the trimmings, I was tired. I wanted something different. Also, I wanted our family to be mindful of our environment and do better. I didn’t want Christmas to come in an Amazon box any longer.  It was time for a change.

But as things happen, life took hold and Spring came and then summer. By the time the kids were heading back to school in the fall of 2023, I started seriously thinking about my intention for a different upcoming holiday. David and I had always dreamed of having a vacation home up at our nearby ski hill, Silver Star. But, with raising eight kids, it seemed like  just a dream. We were able to afford to teach them to ski, and even took them on several ski holidays over the years, but we’d never gone away for Christmas.. I started running the budget numbers in my head and one day I went into David’s office and presented my idea. What if we rented a home up at Silver Star and took the kids skiing instead of buying   gifts. I could tell he loved the idea when his eyes lit up and he leaned back in his office chair with a big smile on his face. After that, planning our Christmas ski holiday fell into place easily. .  

 Fast forward, here I am, gloriously flying on my silver Blizzard skis with the optic snowflakes etched on top. Snow capped evergreens blur in my peripheral vision, as I zip along the Aberdeen ski way. I’m heading to our last run of the day in the Silver Woods area. Around another corner and across a slight slope, I spy my husband David waiting at the top of the run. When I’m only a few feet away from him,  I turn quickly, allowing my ski edge to dig deeply into the snow, which sends a mini blast of white powder into the side of his black outfit.. Momentarily, he looks like a snow wizard, who smiles approvingly at me as if to say,  “you got me.” We both laugh.

I scan the run below us. Cloud Nine, is an intermediate blue run, with a few moguls thrown in here and there. Considering it’s Christmas time, this part of the mountain has been relatively quiet, with only a few skiers sharing the runs with us. We’ve been able to ski onto the lift without any wait all day. .A little way down and to the side of the run, I see our daughter Grace and son Harrison chatting, with snowy green sentinels, eavesdropping behind them. I click the picture, and tuck it into my mind’s album. On this last day of our ski holiday everyone has gone off on their own. Our oldest son Clark is skiing with his fiance Jessica, Our fourteen year old son Will is with his snowboarding friend Miller and our twelve year old twin daughters, Victoria and Kathryn, are skiing the back side with their best friend, Molly. 

Everyone’s agreed it’s been the BEST holiday ever. We’ve been hitting the slopes every day. When we aren’t skiing, we’ve been soaking in the hot tub, or gathering around the large kitchen table, chatting and snacking, on an array of crackers, meats, cheeses, and endless plates of brightly decorated Christmas cookies. The younger kids have been dancing to the 2024 Nintendo, “Just Dance” video game, they got for Christmas. and if they aren’t dancing, Victoria’s been in front of the T.V. belting out tunes, on her new karaoke microphone and challenging everyone to join her.  If I hear the song “Last Christmas,” by Wham, one more time, I may scream, but in a good way. While the younger kids have gone off in the evening to TubeTown, Clark and Jess have been huddled over the 1000 piece puzzle they found in our Air B and B, game pile. They work well together, he picking out and placing the coloured pieces in various piles and her putting the puzzle together. We’re all excited about their wedding next summer. 

 

Back on the mountain and present time, I start to move my skis. I yell back at David, I’ll take the lead,” I push off and pass Harrison and Grace. I point one of my poles downhill, motioning for them to follow. It’s late in the day. It must be around 3 pm. Everything is starting to be peacefully muffled but the wind is picking up and it’s growing colder on this east facing side of the mountain. I’m thankful for my new goggles, which shut out a lot of the wind but don’t improve the worsening white out conditions. A crust is starting to form on the top of the snow and I’m needing to dig my edge into the hillside more aggressively, in order to turn well but inside I’m singing, “Best Run Ever, Best Run Ever,” while planting my poles and turning to that beat. Looking up I wonder if we’ll finally get some snow tonight since the heavy clouds are closing down above me and that’s when I spot the black crow again. We’d seen him flying while riding up on our last chair lift.  Gracie had said something about him being a harbinger of something. What did she say? A harbinger of what?

Out of nowhere four hot shot skiers fly by me, their knees bump up easily to their chest while they dip in and out of the grooves in the moguls. I think to myself,” keep up, keep up, Lee. You’ve been skiing for years, before they were even born.” I watch them fly straight down the last of the run and soar on to the ski way below me. With that “Best Run Ever,” song playing through my mind, I follow them. Only the flat white, prevents me from seeing the trough at the bottom of the run, which I hit way too fast. It propels me up into the air with such force that I have no time to think, except, in the seconds before I crash onto the icy ski way, I see the image of that black crow again. Then I hit the ground.

I land on my back, a bit to my left side and hear a crack before almost losing consciousness, but I hold on  because out of the darkness, I sense a person has skied close to me. “Are you okay,” a man’s voice floats down to me, from far away. Somewhere deep inside, I know I need to try to move and so, even though my legs are bent awkwardly back, I lift them slightly. Pain rips through my back but I know I’m not paralyzed.  Thank God. “I think I’m okay,” I answer from my throat, not wanting to take a breath. When he sees me start to move I think he must have thought I was okay and he slowly skies off.  I relax, not having to stay strong in front of a stranger. Where is David? I start to assess my condition. I slowly move again and knife-like pain floods my back. Don’t move, don’t move I think. Then I take a breath and then sharp, stabbing pain fills my chest, making me want to vomit. Shallow breath, shallow breath, Lee. Where is David? Finally, what feels like eons, David, Grace and Harrison arrive T on scene and I know,  somehow I’ll get off this mountain.

Later that night, in our cozy Air B and B bedroom, with Advil and Tylenol pumping through my body, I’m thinking about my stupid accident and the black crow again. He was, a harbinger of something. He was trying to tell me to be careful. To listen from within and not allow my ego to get in the way. It’s been a wonderful Christmas. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss any of it.  Even the pain. Isn’t it when we experience pain, we learn the most? So in a few days, when we ring in the New Year and in the upcoming months to follow, I think I will still be singing my Best Run Ever song, but I’ll be watching for crows.  

The End

I want to thank you for coming to my blog today and reading about my recent experience. Looking back it was such a magical holiday in so many ways. The picture above was captured as we were leaving our ski rental. Even though I was heavily drugged with Tylenol and Advil, I wanted to remember even this moment for isn’t it when we have the perspective of the highs and lows, when we see life clearly? It puts everything into a chiseled focus for me. Family and Friends are everything. Taking care of the earth is everything. When we spent most of our holiday outside skiing (during a holiday when our ski hills snow pack was at historically low levels) I realized how much the earth nurtures my soul. I need it. I think we all need it. As 2024 unfolds for you, I pray for peace in the world but also hope you find what you need on your path.

And before my final goodbye, here is the link to the YouTube video I did sharing our Christmas 2023 moments. Enjoy!

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

And keep your eyes out for crows!

Blessings from Hope

What Would Love Do?

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Happy Valentine’s Day! As I write this post the news is sharing another horrific story of a person being killed and others being injured during a rally in Kansas City. (The Kansas City Chief’s football team just won the Super Bowl Game this past Sunday)

What I don’t understand is why do these things keep happening in our world. Don’t even get me started on my thoughts on the war between Russia and Ukraine or the horrors that occurred last October in Israel (and now occurring in the Gaza Strip). This winter has been tough for me as I feel so unsettled with these continuous moments filled with hatred and mindless evil.

Something has to give.

Last December, our children’s string orchestra were invited to participate in pop star and song writer, Andrew Allen’s Christmas concert. All fall they were busy working on their collection of holiday music. Our home was brimming with harmony and every Monday for weeks prior to the event, our children’s music school held rehearsals. I loved sitting in the car listening to the beautiful music flowing out from the building. By the time the concert arrived our kids were so excited.

The concert was more like a large gathering of friends and family coming together to celebrate the season of light. Andrew made us feel like we were just sitting in his living room. A very large living room I might add, where he had brought together a few friends to join him in celebrating the holiday. Our children’s orchestra blew everyone away. I mean who doesn’t love watching and listening to kids ranging in age from 4 to 18 playing cello, violin and viola? It was magical in so many ways. I cried more tears of joy than I had in a long while that evening.

The majority of tears fell though when Andrew started introducing the next song he was going to play called, “What Would Love Do?” Through the whole evening, the energy was mostly light filled, with funny quips and stories about his band and about recent concerts he had given. He talked about being thankful to have grown up in our little town and now being able to raise his family while continuing his career as a singer/songwriter. But when he introduced this song, he also talked about what was happening in the world. He paused, got us to pause, while he asked us to wonder what if people just stopped for a moment, before acting on any impulse towards anger, or retribution, or their feelings of righteousness, and asked themselves the simple question, “What Would Love Do? He wondered if maybe, just maybe, we would have less wars, less shooting, less anger and animosity towards others and maybe more harmony. More peace.

More love.

I’ve been thinking about this question for the last few months and wondered how I could make a difference. If I am not even able to temper my reaction to anything that arises in my life to irk me, how can world leader be expected to be any better? We are after all…human. But we have to do better.

For our world.

For our children.

For the future of this earth.

And so I’m stopping in the middle of this day, a busy Valentine’s day for our family and sharing this question with you. How can we shake up the world for the better and have this question on everyone’s lips? If we come together as a greater whole, we can shift the world towards a response of love and shut out the evil that has bee occurring. Even when we are protesting, and we think it is justifiable, we have to ask ourselves this question, “What would love do?”

I often think of the response Mother Teresa gave when asked why she didn’t attend anti war protest.

“I will never attend an anti-war rally; if you have a peace rally, invite me.”

― Mother Teresa

She simply didn’t want to be AGAINST anything or anyone.

Enough said. I want to wish each of you, my dear blogging family, a very Happy Valentine’s day. Let us spread this question out into the world… “What would love do?” I want us to chant and cheer and smile and laugh. I want us to lock arms and wave our flags with red hearts on them. Let each of us take a moment to ask ourselves this question the next time something happens that causes anger or disharmony. Love is the answer. May your world be filled with love this Valentine’s day and in the upcoming year. That’s my greatest wish.

Below are two YouTube videos. One is called, “What Would Love Do Now,” by Jason Mraz, during a concert he gave 12 years ago. The other is from our beloved local boy, Andrew Allen, in case you haven’t heard of him before. He started me thinking and you know what they say,

One thought is powerful. And one question even more so….

“What Would Love Do?”

Until we meet again,

May you be well, happy and peaceful.

And may your be surrounded by love and light.

Blessings from Hope

The Healing Powers of Humour and Cinnamon Coffee Cake

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(Note: I am not a Doctor, nor am I a mental health provider…the following is just a layman’s experience dealing with depression)

This new year, 2024, started painfully for me. Literally. As I mentioned in a prior post, I had a bad ski accident at the end of our Christmas holiday so for the month of January I was moving around gingerly. I wasn’t sleeping well and was only functioning because we live in the era of ibuprofen and acetaminophen. Needless to say, I wasn’t laughing much. The more pain I felt, the more depressed I got. It was a vicious cycle. By the time I started feeling better physically, February had arrived, but my mental state was bleak.

And what was worse…

You know if you’re a mom, your kids pick up on every emotional nuance you display. I wish they’d pick their socks up as quickly but the little creatures are finely attuned to whatever energy is pulsing through the house. Sadly, depression is contagious. In our house, there wasn’t much laughter in January. Everyone seemed to be dragging energetically. By the time I started feeling better physically, I had to pull my mental state out of the gutter. Thankfully I hadn’t gone down that rabbit hole too deeply and I was able to improve my mood in a few weeks, but by that time I had to pull everyone else out with me.

If being under the weather, ha! at this time of year resonates with you at all, pour yourself a cup of something warm and read on….

What do you call it when a snowman ignores you?

(Answer at the end of this blog post)

I thought I’d share a few tips and thoughts on this topic as this time of year can be difficult for so many people living in the Northern part of our planet. Our days are short, the nights long and it’s cold. If you have little kids, it can be even worse as it takes 15 minutes to just bundle them up to head outside, but strangely, that’s one of the first things I’d suggest. I know it’s hard, but just getting out and breathing some crisp winter air can do wonders. The Earth does heal us if we let her. If you can’t get out for a walk, at least stand outside and just breathe. Stay out long enough to look for the beauty in the world, even if it’s all dark and grey. Or white. Now that’s a magical colour! What are the sounds in the air? Are there any birds in the trees? Or is there only peaceful silence? That can heal us too. We all need peace and beauty in our lives.

Next, what’s helped me move out of the darkness of depression was making sure I stayed hydrated and started eating better. January can be a difficult month for lots of people when they may have put on a few extra pounds from all the treats on display during the holiday season in December. Making sure we focus on drinking more water and eating some healthy whole food can improve one’s mood tremendously.

Another depression killer, ha! was starting to count my blessings. This was tough at first but nothing elevates my mood several degrees better than being grateful for something. At first, it may have been only my afternoon tea time. It’s not an over night fix though. It’s something you need to work at. What I’d recommend is at the end of the day writing down three things that went well for you. At first it may be just getting out of bed and having a shower. Maybe one of those things can be things you did for someone else that helped to shift their mood. Nothing improves our feeling of worth more than helping others. And I don’t think this is just a mom thing. It’s a people thing. Helping others, helps us! But if you just can’t think of anything, there is always these tried and true basics:

  1. I’m thankful I’m living on Earth and not Mars
  2. I’m thankful for my health….and if you don’t have that, be thankful for, pick one; hearing, sight, smell, taste, ability to walk; hopefully one applies….if you count more than one you are rocking!!!
  3. Family and friends, or a pet. Pets do wonders for our mental health. Look into their eyes and feel their fur…something magical happens.
  4. And I’ll add this one, I’m thankful to still be breathing. If you feel you can’t add this one to your daily gratitude list because you are so low in spirits, it may be time to visit your Doctor or call the Emergency mental health line in your part of the world. In Canada it’s 9-8-8

I personally am thankful for my writing group. We meet every two weeks and I never leave them feeling worse than when I arrived. That’s something to be grateful for! In late January, one of our members gave us a writing prompt that pulled me out of my funky state of being. The prompt was for us to write a funny story. The weird thing is that I actually felt worse at first before I started feeling better. You see, I realized that I’m not a funny person. It made me more depressed as I racked my brain thinking of a funny event or story to share. Thankfully, I’m surrounded by people who look at the world with light humour filled eyes, so telling their story helped me to find my tiny funny bone. And you know what? Funny is as contagious as depression. Anyway, without further ado, I thought I’d share the story I wrote for my writing group with you now. It’s dedicated to my son Harrison, who never fails to lift my spirits. It’s dedicated to my writing bud, Jessica, who with her dead pan, extremely witty humour, and yes, often macabre way at looking at life, inspires me. I see you Jessie!

Here’s the story I wrote and shared recently with my writing group. May it lift your spirits and give you a few giggles, I hope….if not, stay to the end when I share my Cinnamon Coffee Cake recipe which is sure to get a smile, or your mouth watering. And the answer to the joke above.

Finding the Meaning for Life in Humour (#2 Version….YES, it took a few versions)

I am not funny. Nothing about me is funny at all. From my earliest memories I’ve been a deep thinker. Long before I heard Descartes’ phrase, “I think, therefore I am,” I’ve been a navel gazer.  A solemn individual if you will. I’d like to say the heavy grief from my Dad’s early death covered me in a gray shroud for most of my life, one in which prevented any light from entering. That would be true to an extent, but I still think if darkness hadn’t covered me from a young age, I’d still be searching for the reason for being here and the meaning of life. Superficial people irritate me. I’d like to shake them and say, don’t you see all the suffering on this earth? How can you live on the surface? But I don’t, because I realize we all process life differently and maybe some float on the surface in order to just keep breathing.

Also, I wonder if I’m not entirely bright enough to recognize the various types of humour. I wonder if it’s something that comes only after years of close observation. My husband David’s favourite part of the day, is spending an hour or two in the evening watching what I call, “Silly Sitcoms,” and popular, stand up comics. I hear him laughing away in the den. When I join him for a moment and listen, he seems to pick up on some sort of subliminal message the comedian is relaying. Mirth erupts in him, yet I remain stoic.

When I look back on my life, I can’t think of one funny story. Nope, nothing sticks out. When I ask my family if they have observed anything funny about me, or something that I can relay, my youngest daughter Victoria points out that it’s funny that I keep hiding the chocolate chip bag from them, but I can’t seem to ever remember where I’ve stowed it before I go to bake. That’s more pathetic than funny, And I’m sure everyone will be laughing after I’m long gone when they find chocolate chip bags hidden all over our house. I do have a few funny stories that my son Harrison has relayed over the last few years that stick out. He has inherited his dad’s funny bone. So if you are looking for something funny today,  I’ll share a few with you now. 

In his last year of school in Victoria, he was living right down town. To get out of his small apartment for some fresh air he used to go over to a nearby Starbucks for a coffee. One day as he came upon the Starbucks entrance, he spotted two workmen standing on the sidewalk. He overheard one workman telling the other one, “Okay, the only thing you have to do is make sure you don’t hit this light post when you back in.” Harrison didn’t think anything of it. He went in to get his coffee and when he came out, coffee in hand, he was surprised to find the two men still on the sidewalk but they were looking down at the back of the truck’s fender and one was scratching his head. Harrison overheard him tell the other man, “I don’t know how that happened!” Harrison said he chuckled all the way home.

Since graduating with a degree in Commerce, he’s been working in the Royal Bank of Canada’s head office in Toronto. He works long hours in the office and often doesn’t get home until late. One evening he put in an order with Uber eats. He left instructions for the food to be delivered to the apartment lobby. Harrison went for a quick walk and was standing in the deserted lobby when a delivery person walked in, carrying a bag from the restaurant Harrison had ordered from. 

He approached the man and said, “Hey, I’m Harrison, is that for me? The man mumbled something about having to make a call. Harrison watched the man pull out his phone and punch into his device. A moment later Harrison’s phone was ringing. “Harrison here,” he answered, looking directly at the delivery man, who at that point realized the ridiculous situation, although he didn’t laugh. He just handed over the bag of food and left. Harrison chuckled all the way up the elevator but when he told me that story, I wondered if that man was a relative of mine.

The last story I have to share, is one Harrison told us when he was traveling through the Philadelphia airport on his way home from a business trip to Chile. The security line was exceptionally long and Harrison wondered what was going on. As he got closer to the front of the line, someone ahead of him asked the security person what the hold up was and Harrison overheard this response. “We don’t have enough plastic bins for people’s personal belongings.” Harrison didn’t understand this. He was thinking to himself, “Isn’t this a closed loop system, on a circular conveyor belt? Where are all the bins? Who’s taking them?” After eons, he finally got through security and was heading to his gate when he saw security bins scattered all over the floor. They were catching drips of water from the ceiling. 

There were a few other incidents that happened in that airport as well that he found funny from a functional, efficiency standpoint, but he just chalked it up to people living in their own environment and not seeing the light.

Which gets me back to my situation. I wonder, if like them, I’m just living too deeply amidst the minutiae of life, which is preventing me from rising to the surface and observing what’s really going on. Maybe, the answers to the real meaning of life, have been floating up there all this time. 

The End

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I hope my story brought brought a smile. If so, that’s great. If not, then it’s time to make a few changes for the sake of your health. Your mental health is everything. I’m sharing the quote below because, no joke, this is something I’ve done and it didn’t make me feel better!

So try getting outside for a walk, eat healthy, stay hydrated. Count three things you are grateful for and if none of those things work, make an appointment with your Doctor and tell him/her how you’re feeling. You don’t have to be only physically unwell to visit your Doctor. This is something I’m learning. Our mental health is as important as our physical and within each, there is a link to wellness. Finding a friend to talk to can help until you can get in for some professional help. Any time you feel like it, come and visit me on my blog for some company. I’m working hard at producing a few giggles these days. At the very least, come for a piece of cinnamon coffee cake. At my last writing group gathering, I shared my cinnamon coffee cake with them and while we munched away, we laughed and laughed.

Here’s to the healing power of laughter!!! and to Coffee Cake too…

Hope’s Coffee Cake

Ingredients:

The topping;

1 cup brown sugar/1 cup all purpose flour/1 tsp ground cinnamon/pinch of salt/1/2 cup unsalted softened butter

optional; chopped walnuts or pecans and you can drizzle the top with a icing sugar glaze too

The Cinnamon layer:

1/4 sugar/1 tablespoon all purpose flour/1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

For the cake batter:

  • 3 cups all-purpose flour
  • 2 1/4 cups sugar
  • 3/4 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup softened unsalted butter
  • 1 cup sour cream
  • 1/4 cup whole milk
  • 4 large eggs
  • 1 tablespoon vanilla extract

Directions:

  • Preheat the oven to 350°F and spray a 9 x 13-inch pan. (you can also use parchment paper to lift out cake easier)
  • Make the streusel layer:
    In a small bowl, combine the flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Use a fork to mash the butter into the mixture until completely combined and crumbly. Set aside.
  • Make the cinnamon layer:
  • In another small bowl, combine the sugar, flour, and cinnamon. Set side, as well.
  • Begin making the batter:
  • In the bowl of your mixer, add the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Stir until combined.
  • Add the softened butter and beat on medium-low speed or mix for 2 to 3 minutes, or until all of the butter is mixed.
  • Combine the wet ingredients and finish the batter:
  • In a medium bowl, whisk together the sour cream, milk, eggs, and vanilla until combined. Add the mixture to the dry ingredients. Beat the batter on medium speed until you get a smooth batter. A few small lumps are totally fine.
  • Prepare the cake:
  • Spread half of the batter into the prepared pan. Sprinkle the cinnamon-sugar layer over the top of the batter in an even layer. Spread the remaining batter over the top. I do this with a big spoon and just drop lumps every few inches and then spread carefully.
  • Bake the cake:
  • Bake for 50 to 55 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool on a rack for 1 hour (or until the cake comes to room temperature) before serving. Can drizzle with icing sugar glaze if you wish

Serve with a dollop of laughter with your friends and family. Enjoy!!!

Answer to the snowman joke above.….did you guess it? (The Cold Shoulder!!!! ha! ha! ha!)

I want to thank you for visiting today.

Until we meet again, may joy and laughter fill your life.

and may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

December Magic 2022

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Happy New Year!

Dear family and friends,

Welcome back to my blog. It’s been an age. On this blustery winter day, I thought what better time than now, to dust the ‘ole cobwebs from my blog and write a few thoughts before we move fully into this new year. (2024)

Before I can do so however, I feel compelled to look back. WAYYYY back. Don’t you think before we move forward with anything, it’s good to look back and see far we’ve come? While doing so, we can give ourselves a pat on the back and say, “way to go.” And while cheering ourselves on, we can also reflect on the parts that were not so brilliant.

And before we move more fully into 2024, I want to go way back, over a year now to Christmas 2022. I meant to write about it at the time but for whatever reason I didn’t get it down. Since it looks like I’m going to be snowed in for awhile, I think this is a good time to share it with you now.

And so grab a cup of tea, coffee or hot cocoa and come for a visit with me.

Last Christmas (2022) was a snowy one. In the week before Christmas my part of the world was magically white, but it wasn’t so magical for those trying to get home for the holidays Especially, if you had to fly. All the major airports across Canada were having flights cancelled due to the inclement weather. It was like a domino effect, especially if you had a connecting flight anywhere. Actually, people were stranded in airports all over North America. My family and I huddled around the T.V. listening to all the various travel nightmares people were experiencing. I felt such heartfelt compassion for anyone travelling at this time of year. And then two of our older kids were scheduled to fly home.

Our oldest daughter Alyssa was due home mid week before Christmas which fell on Sunday in 2022. At first, her flight from Calgary was delayed, and then she got a taste of what others were dealing with as she was stuck in the airport. There were several appointed times when they said they would be flying out and then they would have to delay that time due to the weather. We were all on pins and needles as she waited, and we waited, and then thankfully, in the wee hours of the next morning we got the call that she was finally boarding her flight and would be home soon. We were just so relieved that she was finally coming home. David gladly drove in the early morning hours to bring her home. That was my first Christmas gift of the season.

and she had a few days to relax. Sit with Yuuki by the fire, read, and do puzzles.

(Some back story on Alyssa. She had only just moved to Calgary the previous October, after finding work teaching music in that city. We were thrilled for her, as this was always something she wanted to experience, but you know, when your grown children move away, you never know if they will be able to make it home for the holidays. We missed her for two holidays when she was living in London and we were so sad. Just having her home makes everything more special. She has a lovely presence about her and gets excited about simple, ordinary things, like sitting by the fire with a cat curled up beside her and a good book in her lap, a spicy, fragrant cup of chai tea, a good puzzle spread out on the dining room table, our traditional Lord of the Rings Marathons, and oh, Umma’s favourite Ambrosia/marshmallow salad, ha….so glad she made it home)

Then it was Harrison’s turn to come home after work on Friday, December 23rd. We were all biting our nails and texts were flying back and forth. I’ll never forget that dreadful phone call when Harrison called to confirm his flight had been, “officially,” cancelled. My heart dropped. Just hours before he was scheduled to leave, the Toronto Pearson International airport totally shut down due to a terrible winter storm. The snow was flying, the wind was blowing, absolutely nothing was taking off. (or landing either)

We sat around that evening a bit forlorn. The house was beautifully decorated. All the baking was done. The presents were wrapped and the stockings were stuffed, but I was rather despondent knowing Harrison would celebrate Christmas all alone in his apartment. I prayed for a miracle and then let it go. What else could I do? What truly was most important was knowing he was safe and not trying to travel home in the storm.

And so I went to sleep on Dec 23rd, sad.

And then on Christmas Eve, we got a call from Harrison who said, “you are NOT going to believe where I am mom?” I was dumbfounded and silent until I heard, “I’m sitting in the Edmonton airport and hoping to fly out later today.” WHAT??? I yelled! Then the story came out. After his flight had been cancelled Friday night he’d tried to book another flight home but there was nothing available. Partly due to the airline booking system’s online set up where it kept looking for a connecting flight for him to the Okanagan. Exhausted and defeated he finally went to bed. Then, around 3 am he woke up inspired to try to just book a direct flight to Edmonton, with the idea he could eventually get a flight from there to Kelowna. And it worked!!!There was a mid morning flight out on the 24th to Edmonton so he booked it and grabbed his suitcase and was at the airport by 6 am. (What we heard later, and makes this story rather amazing is he was able to get out in a little window of travel. A few hours later the airport shut down totally again as the storm’s intensity worsened.) His day of travel was a mini version of what the mom from the movie, “Home Alone,” had to endure to get back to her son Kevin in time for Christmas. But unlike her, the last leg of Harrison’s journey wasn’t with Gus Polinski, the Polka King and his Polka band from Sheboygan, “The Kenosha Kickers.” Here’s a excerpt from that movie which gives you a feel for the desperation one feels to get home, and also for the kindness of strangers.

While the last leg of Harrison’s travels was delayed several times, getting his hopes up and dashed, finally, late, late on Christmas Eve he flew out of Edmonton. It had been a long, LONG DAY but he was coming home. David donned his red Santa hat one more time and drove to the airport. (Keep in mind, even driving was rough going) They arrived back home at 2 am on Christmas morning.

What I know is….

Magic happens.

Having Harrison home in time for Christmas was the BEST Christmas present I received last year. Everyone was home and tucked under our eaves, (everyone except Mitchell. Don’t get me crying. There’s a sad place in my heart every holiday when he’s not physically here, but he’s happy in Australia. Isn’t that what we want for our kids?…to be happy? And so we connect via messenger and are grateful for the time we have with him)

And so, with all the flight cancellations and delays, I felt like Christmas magic was bestowed on us. I didn’t want another year to go by without writing about it. In the final years of my Dad’s life, he had a Kodak movie camera. He had such fun creating family movies and I’m thankful. I sometimes think he inspired this blog, since he too liked to write. So when I write on my blog, it’s my way of leaving a bit of me and a bit of him too, here on this earth. This is for my children, and my children’s children. and all my family and friends. You are my world and when I’m long gone I hope you remember to look for the magic in the world.

Above, Harrison, (so exhausted but smiling), later on Christmas day. He had spent 36 hours trying to get home in time for Christmas morning. It was my best present! What I learned most from 2022’s holiday was that being with those you love is the MOST important thing ever. No amount of gifts, activities, abundant food or spirits even compares. Connecting is what it’s all about.

And now, like one of my Dad’s family movies, I present the video I created to share snippets from my magical Christmas 2022.

Shut the lights out and run that projector!

Above is the video I created to remember Christmas 2022 and below is one of the Christmas pieces the kids were working on during the holidays…”In The Bleak Midwinter” which is based on English writer, Christina Rosetti’s Poem. (with all the snow we experienced it’s apropos)

After Christmas 2022, the clouds are starting to break.

As I close this blog I think the real magic in the world, not just at Christmas time, but all year through is love. When we let it fill our hearts that’s when the real magic happens.

Watch for the magic in 2024….and wishing you much love.

Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Thrifting With Hope

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Dear friends and family,

Thank you for joining me today. It’s late fall in my part of the world and I’m finally taking some time to share my latest passion.

“Buying items that others don’t want; also known as THRIFTING!”

Have you heard of it? Are you doing it? Has it transformed the way you shop?

This time last year, I started discovering the joy of finding beauty in things other people no longer wanted. This was quite an about face for me. You see, if you know me or have read any of my past posts, you will know I went through quite a minimalist phase. Okay, a BIG, minimalist phase. Much of that had to do with the fact that we had a larger family than average, (eight kids!) and at one time our house was packed to the brim, with children and babies, and all their stuff; Toys, Sporting Equipment, Clothes, Crafts, Books, oh, all the paraphernalia, we as parents buy because we think our kids need “whatever,” for their development. (Take it from me, a mom whose bought just about everything at one time, and in many cases, way more than one thing, like eight strollers over the years!!!) What I learned, at least in my opinion, our kids only need a few things, “us, getting out in nature and a library card.”

What changed my minimalist mindset? Well, it’s more of an evolution if you will. I still like minimal items around me. I like knowing where I can find everything. You know that old adage, “everything in it’s place,” works well for me. I also like buying fewer things of higher quality. The things that will stand the test of time. Also, with regards to clothes, I prefer natural fibres, ( organic cotton, wool) and I like classic styles. Seeing piles of fast fashion shipped in containers to be dumped overseas makes me nauseous, and that alone, has moved me towards buying second hand, quality items.

But there is more.

Slowly, over the years our children have been leaving. Very slowly at first. Since our older ones are all three years apart, one would almost be graduating from University and then the next one would be off. Some came home for the summers and a couple have gone to our the University near our home. But eventually, one by one, the four older ones have all left, and are now living in various parts around the world. Which means, our house feels lighter and bigger. Only four remain.

Over the years, I’ve been diligent about going through our house each season and teaching our children to keep only the things that are still serving them. We do that Marie Kondo thing, “what sparks joy, we keep, what doesn’t, we thank, and we gratefully then let that item go.” For years, I’ve been taking boxes and bags of clothing and household items to our local thrift stores. I’ve been diligent and conscious over not over consuming, which seems contradictory to having a large family, but I felt even more compelled to teach my children to use things up, to make do, to not always need the latest phone or electronic device. I also wanted (want) our home to feel organized and orderly. Since I have been downsizing items for several years now, I was surprised when things changed last year. I suppose it’s just a matter of time too, but suddenly things were breaking. It all started last winter, several of my favourite casserole dishes broke. It was weird because after years of use, one broke and then another. Then, a few of my favourite serving dishes for cookies and treats broke. Since we often bring snacks to share at our children’s group orchestra practices, this was a big deal, as I don’t like having to use paper or tin foil plates. My husband David looked into the cost of replacing some of my French White, CorningWare casserole dishes/lids, and we were surprised to find them quite expensive. Hmmm, what to do? Before jumping to replace them, I decided to visit a few of our local thrift stores.

I tentatively entered. The smell wasn’t the greatest. A musty used, a bit of dirt in the air scent. These were the places where I had donated boxes and boxes of clothing and household items over the years. I pushed through the less than receptive smell and started to really look at the items on the shelves, or on the racks and what I discovered was untold riches. Yes, there were things that were well used, but there were also many things brand new, or hardly used at all. What further surprised me, was there were vintage items that were unique and if picked up and displayed properly, could enable me to curate that comfortable English Cottage style I desired.

I was hooked!

The first treasures I didn’t take pictures of. I was easily able to replace my French White, CorningWare. I now have two oval casserole dishes and two rounds ones in varies sizes. All with lids. And over the last year I’ve found lovely plates, in which I can take my cookies, muffins, vegetable and fruit platters, to all the events that happen with orchestra and at my children’s potluck activities. Also, you know what I love? I love being able to have someone over and send them home with some leftovers or cookies, not on a paper plate but on an actual plate they can keep. This goes the same with candy dishes and vases. I’ve found the greatest gifts at the thrift store to give to loved ones. This makes me so happy!

If you are intrigued….and you may be….

Here are a few of the treasures I’ve found this last year. Some are vintage, like the depression glass candy dishes and the cake plate. Some are collector type items as well. Mostly, the things I select are to create a curated home with old style charm. So check out a few of my treasures below, but WARNING….thrift shopping can be addictive.

It’s a bit like digging for treasure.

Once I realized I was onto something I started taking pictures of some of my lovely finds. Also, please note that almost everything I bought was 30% off! I only shop when there are sales, or when I have a 20% off or more coupon.

Below is a lovely, soft wool scarf that goes with absolutely everything. This scarf is big enough to wear as a shawl, or can be draped over the back of a sofa. I’m always looking for picture frames as Kathryn loves to paint and I love to frame her work. The Cookie plates are perfect for giving away with some of my baking. The candy dish and cake plate are both depression glass and are vintage finds. DEALS! but I just love them.

Our cat Yuuki always checks out what I bring into the house.

I also always check out the linen. Above, I found brand new cloth napkins.

Below….

I was looking for a pottery utensil holder and I found two. The cream one with a red top (very vintage) is the one I use now and the green marble one, I placed a plant in. I was happy to find dessert dishes too as these always seem to break and I was thrilled to find these for a low price. Nothing really overly special about them but perfect for a bowl of yogurt or ice cream. The cream coloured dish is large and perfect for taking places filled with cookies. I liked the scalloped edge with the leaf motif. The glass one is lovely piled with fruit, or a yummy cake.

Do you think I’m crazy yet? For the longest time, I snapped these pictures and only shared them with my son Harrison, who has been living and working in Toronto this past year. I wanted a way to bring him into my life on a weekly basis and I felt like showing him a few of my thrift finds was one way to do that. He never said I was crazy, but since graduating with a Commerce degree last year and now working in high finance on Bay Street, I wondered if he was just being polite.

And soooooo…..I think it’s probably better that I finally come clean and share what’s been going on in my life on my blog.

As you may know, I haven’t been writing on my blog much this past year but I have been making pie and quiches. When I found this marble rolling pin at the Salvation Arm I snapped it up. You can’t really see it, but underneath is a wooden stand, so it doesn’t fall off the Island when I’m rolling out my dough. (It’s heavy and would damage my wood floor for sure!) When I came home with it, I went on line to check pricing. I couldn’t find one similar for under $30.00 dollars. The one below was the least expensive at $36.00 dollars. Needless to say, I was thrilled as I bought mine for $10.00 dollars. at the Salvation Army thrift store. I know this isn’t a huge savings, but if I were to resell it, I’d triple my money. But I’m not selling it!!! (As an investment guy, maybe Harrison would say that’s small peanuts but hey, it’s still a win) Plus, who doesn’t like pie?

Below is another lovely casserole dish, smaller than my other new ones but useful for leftovers and it was in mint condition. Oh, don’t you just love that lemon yellow plate? When I saw it for the first time, it made me feel like Spring was just around the corner and that little bunny made me hop up and down and smile. The bunny, btw, sits next to my sink and I put my scrub brush inside of her. Keep in mind everything was 30% off too!!!! That was a Spring Score! More dessert dishes…they are great for putting dips in. Also, I liked the basket weave look around this off white plate. I know it may seem like I have a lot of plates but when I sign up for providing our orchestra a snack, it requires the use of many plates.

While I didn’t capture pictures of the following, I must tell you about them…

I found a lovely crystal vase before Valentines day and gave it to my oldest son and his fiancé, filled with chocolates. Also, I didn’t take pictures of all the crystal candy dishes that I found for my youngest children but I bought them and filled them too with Valentine’s candy. I was so happy to find the glass vase below as it’s the perfect size for a few cut flowers placed next to a bed. I’m always looking at vases because every year I’m growing more cut flowers in my garden. Also, as I mentioned above, I’m wanting to create a English Cottage style of interior, so I have been looking for a few blue and white transferware dishes. The ones below are quite common (Liberty Bell) but also lovely. And that cake dish is another depression glass piece that I have seen at the Antique store for 3 times what I paid. (Again, remember I shop when everything is either 20 to 30% off as I only go when there is a sale on, or when I have a coupon)

By early Spring of this year I realized I had a bit of an obsession, but seeing the sign below put everything in perspective. Over the years I know I’ve cared far too much for what other’s think of me, (and my family) but as I’m growing older, I’m letting that go. This little chicken sign is now in my laundry room, where I spend a lot of time, (the joy of still having four kids at home) and it reminds me to let go and laugh.

One of my dreams is to turn our children’s old play house into my writing studio, so when I found the little shelf (below) with the heart etched in it, I was over joyed. I could see this in my studio, with my old blue sweater hanging from one of the wooden peg, and a few of my favourite Willow Tree Angels sitting on top, inspiring me to write from my heart. Also, I’ve made due without a whisk for a few years now, crazy I know, because anyone that cooks, knows you need whisks! The glass dish with the divider has come in handy so many times this past year. I’ve filled it with fruit and vegetables and can’t you just picture a delectable chocolate cake on that cake plate? When we renovated our son Will’s room in the summer, we put that sturdy coat rack up on the wall. It was brand new, still in it’s package and fits in with his old fashion board and batten bedroom style.

Again, when you are looking at prices…remember I didn’t pay full price and if you are thrifting, look for the days when there are deals, or donate something and get a coupon for 20% off. Here’s a tip too, have you ever passed a free item on the side of the road? Even if you don’t want it, pick it up, donate it, get a coupon from your thrift store and buy something you do want. Also, at some places, if you become a member there are further discounts.

With a family of six at home, invariably glasses and plates are getting broken. I was happy to find these glasses and plates on one of my treasure shops. Also, I absolutely loved the botanical prints of roses with gorgeous old English looking frames. I knew these pictures were old as they said, “Eatons,” on the back. “Eatons,” was an old department store in Canada. I placed each picture above the girls beds in their new room. (I will write a blog post about this reno soon, I promise, as it turned out so sweet and was a fun project) I was happily shocked to fine these black dress shoes for next to nothing. Always check out the purses, shoes, wallets and belts. I’ve found such high quality items. You just need to look. I’m looking forward to a few concerts this fall where I can enjoy wearing these shoes and know that I got them for less than $10.00.

I love baskets! Also, when I can find a picture that I think would make a lovely addition to my future gallery wall, I pick it up. Below, “The Blue Boy,” a print of Gainsborough’s famous painting is a classic, but it was delightfully in an old vintage frame. (I bought him for $4.00 on sale.) When I found the little white birds I had to get them. It was like they were waiting for me. My sweet nephew has had major health challenges this year and since he loves to take care of animals, particularly birds, I knew these needed to go to him and remind him how much he is loved.

Part of taking care of the Earth, is taking care of each other

(And now below)

As we were moving towards summer, I needed some sleeveless summer tops. I visited a shop where some of the profits go towards supporting our mental health organization. I was so happy to find beautiful clothing at reasonable prices and know some of the money would go towards a good cause. (The quote above reminds me to let go of my belief to only buy new things. If we want to help the earth, we need to let go of limiting beliefs and in doing so we help others shine too.

Isn’t the little lamp the sweetest? I bought it for our twin daughter’s renovated bedrooms. I must write a blog post about these summer renovations as thrifted finds make their rooms more special. Also, I found more wicker. LOVE IT! And on my list was wooden cutting boards and on this day I found a great one with a handle. The old brown “Betty” tea pot is huge but then, when we have family over I can brew a big pot of tea and it’s perfect for all of us. The dishes are Homer Laughlin and are called, “Pastoral.” They are creamy white with soft green pictures of farms and old time, winter scenes. After purchasing them, I came home and looked them up and realized I got them for a really great price…but what was more important was they inspired a new kitchen reno…more about that below.

The crystal butter dish, I’ve used everyday. We’ve been using real butter and healthier fats since last Spring, so this is a lovely addition to our kitchen. I did see a pottery, butter dish awhile ago and I left it at the thrift store. I often think of it. It would have been perfect for our everyday use and then I could have kept this one for special occasions. This is an example of one thing I passed up and wished I had put in my cart. That is the one downfall of thrifting. When you see something that sparks joy, put it in your cart. Everything is unique and chances are, if you like it, someone else will too. Like the butter dish, I’ve had a few regrets of things that I didn’t pick up but then using this lovely dish everyday, reminds me that everyday is special.

The final item in this shopping trip was that white casserole dish with little handles. I loved it! We used it so much in the summer time that one day it too broke. I was only momentarily sad. Then the feeling left. It’s only stuff after all. (on the ledge is a picture that Kate painted in the summertime. I often look for frames to put her paintings in)

Here are the plates up close…aren’t they precious? And also in the colours that I want to paint our kitchen.

Below is a picture of a kitchen with white upper cabinets and dark gray green ones….We have been thinking of repainting our current kitchen cabinets….probably more green than below but it gives you the idea. The Homer Laughlin plates inspired my colour choices…Peaceful.

It’s funny how a simple plate can be your inspiration for a total kitchen makeover!

And by September time, my youngest daughters, (Victoria above, and Kathryn, below) were begging to be brought to the thrift store to shop for their back to school clothes, as they were growing out of everything and wanted special, unique, one of a kind type outfits. I was happy to accommodate. My children are inspiring me to do little things to care for the earth. Reusing things, is just as important as recycling, maybe more so, as it doesn’t take any energy, just appreciation and gratitude.

Below are just a few items I found in the summer…the jeans were just $6.00 each and all name brands. I loved the summer dress and the shirt and shorts were a cool outfit for those summer evenings when you want to be casual but a bit dressy. The picture doesn’t do them justice. The point though is that for the price of one pair of new jeans, I filled my closet with clothes for the summer, and clothes that I’m wearing this fall.

After almost a year of being a closet thrifter, I’ve decided to go public and say, if you’ve not tried this type of consuming, it’s the wisest, most environmentally friendly way to shop. Reusing, reimagining, giving something new life, is marvelous. What I’ve discovered is that I’m not alone. I’ve found a community of people just like me on YouTube who actually like going thrift shopping. Inspired by this, I’ve taken my camera with me and actually filmed little snippets of my shopping trips. Usually, when I shop though, it’s super busy, and I’m mindful not to film when people are around. But I know, some people want to see what’s on the shelves in my part of the world and so, I will endeavor to put some of my thrift shopping trips and treasure finds on my YouTube, “The Reynolds Homestead.”

Check it out…as it’s coming soon!!!

Finally,

I know things are difficult financially for many people. I know many people are struggling to just put food on their table and pay their rent and mortgages. (If they are lucky enough to own a home that is) I know shopping at a thrift store may not be something you can afford but I wanted to also put this thought in your ear. If you need a bit of extra cash, this can also be an income stream. Maybe not a ton, but if you have free time, it’s something to think about. When I go shopping, I’ve recognized a regular group of people and judging from what they put in their carts, “Vintage items, collector items, etc, ” I’m pretty sure they are reselling them on Facebook Marketplace, or other social media resale outlets. Some things I find, I know I could resell and earn a bit of an income. When I’ve gone to larger outlets there are pieces of furniture too that can be painted and sold for higher amounts. So keep that in mind. When we are creative and in the flow of being grateful, our eyes are open to endless possibilities.

May hope remain in your heart.

And may we have hope that even the littlest things we do help the earth.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Saying Goodbye

/ admin

She left through the night

I know because the next morning

there was an earthy smell in the air

A crisp breeze was gently blowing my curtains

It saddens me to think I didn’t say goodbye

Mostly her visit was glorious

Long days of lazy, relaxed goodness

barefoot trips to the garden to collect

juicy strawberries and tart raspberries

The apples are turning red quickly now

the pumpkins growing a bright orange

My closet beckons toward my old blue sweater

And to my faded blue jeans with the flowers patched on the pocket

Saying goodbye to a guest is never easy

Maybe she knew and left without wanting to see my tears

I hold her in my heart and hope she returns once more

Until then I open my arms to a new season

Welcome Autumn

You too, are my blessed friend

Lee Reynolds

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..My dearest friends and family,

I hope this post finds you well. I haven’t written on my blog in a coon’s age so I may have lost my whole audience. I know, I know, we’ve all been busy, but today, I wanted to drop a line and share some of this week’s memories before they fly by. Life is flying by.

As the garden gate closes with a sigh, we are spending more time indoors. My youngest children went trick or treating this week. I’m counting down now, there won’t be many more years when they are wanting to dress up and gather treats from the neighbours. Like the changing seasons, it’s bitter sweet watching my children grow. Some parents may be hurrying their children towards independence but not me. I savour every stage. Each moment of development is treasured and I only wish they would slow down a bit.

Below are some Halloween pics of Victoria/aka Mario and her twin side kick Kathryn, (aka Rosalina) The girls went trick or treating with all their friends who were dressed up as various characters from the Mario and Luigi group. Will (the ghoulish convict) decided to dress up very last minute and join a few of his friends who are small fourteen year olds. He’s now topping 6’1″ so we wondered what people would think when he went trick or treating but no one said anything. Maybe they have my philosophy that as long as you dress up and are polite, treats will be bestowed gladly.

The spider over the entrance to our front door is made from two, black plastic bags. One for the body and the other is cut into eight strips. Anything left over is part of its’ stuffing. I use old tissue paper for the stuffing. The eyes and mouth are just cut out from construction paper. When the legs blow in the wind it’s rather scary. Also, we play this timeless music, “Chamber of Horrors,” hiding a Bluetooth speaker near the front door.

Halloween Cookies below are in my Recipes listed under Sugar Cookies....Just decorate with some candy corn, smarties and chocolate chips

I hope you enjoyed seeing a few pics from our Halloween 2023. It always goes by in a blur but oh isn’t it fun. It’s hard to believe that fall is here but the days are cold and crisp, although the sun warms us up mid day. Last fall it was warm so long that the tree’s leaves remained and then suddenly winter came and the leaves hadn’t dropped. It’s reassuring when the seasons change, while hard to say goodbye, life is a series of transformations. Time to bloom, and time to rest, Time to grow and time to reflect.

As the season changes I hope wherever you are it moves with ease and grace and all things good come your way.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Simple Sourdough Bread Making and Life’s Purpose

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Dear family and friends,

Welcome back to my blog. I hope you are all well. I know I haven’t been blogging for awhile now ( a l o n g while) but if anything can bring me back to writing, it’s the excitement I get when a loaf of my own sourdough bread comes out of the oven.

I know I’m rather late coming to the party. It seems like everyone and their dog, their Covid dog that is, was making sourdough bread during the pandemic lock down. Actually, I think people were making all sorts of bread, not just sourdough, because I remember how hard it was to find yeast at the time, not to mention toilet paper. For many people, making things from scratch was a bit of a novelty and people were embracing it while they nested. Not so much for us though, as we had been on the path towards living sustainably for several years before the pandemic hit. Still, one of the things that was on my “to learn list: was baking sourdough bread.

That’s why I was rather excited when last spring my sister J asked if I wanted a bit of her sourdough starter.

Yes, Yes, Yes!!!

Finally, I would learn the ancient art of bread making. She handed me a little yogurt container with verbal instruction how to keep it alive. I remember feeling like she was handing me a little piece of magic, which if I nurtured, would ensure we never went hungry again. And those around us too…’cause once I started baking bread, I was sharing it with everyone (and their dog) who would take a loaf. I was so excited to share it!

“My piece of bread only belongs to me when I know that everyone else has a share, and no one else starves while I eat.” ~ Leo Tolstoy~

While I was learning to care for my starter, I inhaled a few wonderful books. One of them was, “Artisan Sourdough Made Simple,” by Emilie Raffa

After Reading Emilie Raffa’s book I was hooked.

I had the starter, I had a bit of knowledge, and I was passionate to start baking. All I needed were a few things to get going.

I gathered together a scale, a cast iron pot/lid (crucial as you bake in high temps. Happily, it was on sale at my local Canadian Super Store.

Then I went on line and ordered everything else I needed: One of the many things the pandemic did, was develop my on line shopping habit. In the old days, pre-pandemic, I would spend a good while searching in our little town for desired items, often not finding them, using a ton of fuel to get there and then coming home with whatever I was lucky enough to find. I did try to find things locally but even finding banneton baskets in the size I wanted was difficult. Since I wanted to start using the starter J gave me right away, I turned to buying everything I needed from Amazon.ca and within a few days I was baking my first loaves of bread. If you have time though and also would prefer not giving Amazon your money, I would recommend looking at your local thrift stores, or perhaps your local Marketplace site, because I’ve since found all sorts of bread making products for a fraction of what I spent at both of these locations..

But since I was wanting to get going fast…this is what I ordered on line:

A scale to measure ingredients, 2, -10 Inch Banneton proofing Baskets with cloth liners, a stainless steel Dough Scraper, a Bread Lame+ 4 Spare razor blades. And finally, a Danish dough whisk with wooden handle.

Also don’t forget to pick up a bag of whole wheat flour, a bag of all purpose, unbleached, flour and a bag of bread flour. Optional: a bag of Rye flour. Sea salt.

While Emilie Raffa’s book was loaded with amazing Artisan bread recipes, I wanted a basic recipe to get me going. I finally found one on a YouTube site I often visit. Lisa, on “Farmhouse on Boone,” had the perfect video to follow. I’m going to share the recipe below, but please watch her video too as she shares all sorts of great tips regarding working with the dough and the benefits to having a cast iron pot, etc. Thank you Lisa. You inspire me with how gracefully you manage your home, while growing your beautiful family. Here’s the link to her video: “Sourdough Bread for Beginners.”

Okay….

Are you excited to start baking sourdough bread? Here’s the recipe so get a big bowl, your scale and all your flour out.

Simple Sourdough Bread (Makes 2 loaves)

Ingredients

500 grams of all purpose unbleached flour

250 grams of bread flour

200 grams of whole wheat flour (I play around with this. Sometimes I do 100 grams of w/w flour and 100 of rye flour)

650 grams of warm water

20 grams of sea salt (I play with this too adding 10 grams of white sea salt and 10 grams of pink Himalayan salt)

200 grams of mature, bubbly sourdough starter

————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Directions:

Put a big bowl on the digital scale and choose the grams setting. Add all the various flours to the bowl. Mix well. Add the warm water and combine until it forms a shaggy dough. Cover it with a damp cloth or wrap and let it rest for 30 minutes. Then add your starter and your salt. Mix well.

(Below is what my starter looked like before I was about to measure it out…light and bubbly…notice it’s dark…I often make my dough in the evening)

I use my hands at this point to ensure everything is thoroughly combined. Make a nice ball of dough. Cover the bowl once again and let it sit in a warm place for another 30 minutes. After the 30 minutes you will start your series of stretch and folds. For the next 45 minutes you will stretch and fold the dough three times, (roughly every 15 minutes.) When you do your stretch and fold, you simply, very gently, lift one corner of the dough up and stretch it across the rest of the dough. Turn the bowl and lift another section of dough and do it again. I perform this lift, stretch and fold about six times for each stretch and fold session. The next stretch and fold series are 30 minutes apart and you do three of them. At the end of this period, I place the dough on a lightly floured surface and cut the dough in half. I then shape each ball and let it sit for another 30 minutes uncovered. At that point, I turn over the dough, gently fold each corner into itself and shape it into two round balls. I place each ball in a “lightly floured” banneton basket, cover and let it sit overnight in the fridge. (Note, Lisa explains this last fold really well in her video above and also tells you that you don’t need a banneton basket. You can also place a cloth in a medium size bowl and use that)

After letting the dough sit for around fourteen hours I pull it out of the fridge and let it adjust to room temperature while I preheat the oven. At this point you can also place your cast iron pot, with lid in the oven. Get it good and hot (about 30 minutes) before you place your dough inside. In Lisa’s video above, she says she sets her oven to 500 degree but my oven runs very hot and when I tried baking at this temp it burnt my bread. Lesson here; you have to know our oven. I’ve played around with mine and setting it at 450 degrees works best. I also place a large cookie sheet on the bottom rack of my oven, otherwise, even at this temperature my bread will come out scorched at the bottom. Also, I like to add water to the cookie sheet , as they say the steam in the oven makes the bread even softer.

While the oven is preheating take your dough out of the banneton basket, turn it onto a piece of parchment paper. (the lightly floured side is now up) Now this is when you use your razor blade. FUN!!! I tried various designs but I usually come back to the wheat design that Lisa demonstrates in her video above; with a big curved slash down one side and little ones going off on either side. Be creative. This is one of the fun parts in producing your own artisan bread.

Once your oven is preheated and your cast iron pot is well heated through, pull it out of the oven, take off the lid. Carefully lift up the parchment paper with your bread dough and gently place it your cast iron pot. Cover it with the lid once again, and place it back in the oven. Bake for 20 minutes. Once the timer goes off, take off the lid, add a cup of water to your cookie sheet pan and then bake for another 30 minutes. As I said above, you have to know your oven. When I asked my sister J what temperature she cooked her bread at, I believe she said 425. Every oven is different. For me 450 degrees is the sweet spot. My bread comes out a dark golden brown. The crust is nice and hard, and the inside is light and fluffy.

While baking sourdough isn’t a hard process, it does take time. Choose to make your bread on a day that you are working around the house. After I take the kids to school, I come home and feed my starter around 8:30 am, so it has all day to ferment. While I’m preparing dinner at 5 pm, I start making the dough. Over the course of the evening I do my stretch and folds and just before bed at 10 to 11 pm, I place the banneton baskets in the fridge. I bake the bread anywhere around noon to one the next day.

There is nothing like the smell of baking bread in a home!

I snapped this picture to the right with a loaf of my bread on my new thrifted wooden cutting board. I was so thrilled to find this board and I absolutely have to write a future blog post about all the marvelous thrifted items I’ve found lately. It’s my new passion along with baking bread.

If you know me, I had to take off my sunglasses to have this picture taken. (see sunglasses on my kitchen island) Although I’ve been making sourdough bread for almost a year now, every single time I’m thrilled and amazed that this came out of my oven.

And I made it!

Here’s what one of the loaves looks like inside….nice and soft with lots of holes. Victoria below is enjoying a piece of sourdough with some soy cheese. My FAVOURITE way to eat sourdough bread is toasted in the morning with a mashed avocado and an egg on top. Yummy, yummy….although lately I’ve been eating this delicious feast at noon since I’m also into intermittent fasting, which I HAVE to blog about as well ’cause everyone around me is sick of hearing about how wonderful I feel eating only two meals a day. My first one is often at noon with the above mentioned treat.

Victoria above loves the days I make my sourdough bread. Here she is eating a piece with some soy cheese.

Well that is it my dear blogging family. I’ve finally shared my simple sourdough bread recipe. In a way, I’ve brought you into my kitchen, into my home and given you a piece of what I love doing; feeding my family and caring for others. It’s been such a long time since I’ve written and writing this post today reminds me that it’s something I enjoy too. I don’t know if anyone will read it but it was fun to share and I know our family often refer to my blog to to retrieve old family favourite recipes. I also feel like it’s a good way to record our family life. This can be thought of as the time mom learned to bake really great bread!

And what about you? What’s your latest passion? What have you been spending your time doing?

In going through your days have you been asking the big question, “what is my purpose in life?” Or maybe you’re asking, “what is this life all about anyway?” If you have, I want to end this post with something that resonates with me. I hope it helps you remember that the best way we can help each other on this earth is keeping things simple. Making sourdough bread may not be a life changing event, but it’s one way to show others that they are loved. I hope you like this little, “Note to Self,” piece and come back to visit me again.

Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

P.S. I want to thank my sister J for sharing her sourdough starter with me. Every time I make it I feel so blessed to have a sister like her!

(I actually have three so I’m triply blessed)

A Time to Celebrate

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My dear blogging friends and family, it feels like forever since I last wrote but it’s been a busy spring around here. While the world is being shaken like a snow globe with war in Ukraine and economic unrest, due to record high inflation, we are taking a moment to celebrate our son.

Last week this time, we were on our way home from Vancouver Island, where we had travelled to witness our son Harrison’s grad convocation ceremony in Victoria, B.C.. He is now an alumni graduate from the Gustavson School of Business/ University of Victoria with a Bachelor of Commerce degree. If I had known we would reach this day, I would have saved my breath throughout his five years of high school. If I had known he would have found his passion in the business world, I would have just enjoyed watching him grow up. I would have put a pause on the record that went something like this every day on the drive to high school; “Always do you best Harrison. Strive for excellence. Dream big and follow your heart. Be kind and be honest.” When I think back to those days I remember him being very respectful and tolerate of my rants and lectures, probably because he knew that once he was in the driver seat he would really start to fly.

Anyway, you’d think I would have learned but today was my younger three children’s last day of school and I was back at it. Me; “Make sure you take a moment to really thank your teacher, “in the eye,” for everything they have given you this year! Be Grateful.” It continues, ha!..but last week this time, as we drove home from the Island after Harry’s grad, David and I were just smiling.

And so, today I’m taking a moment to celebrate Harry. I’m taking this moment to cheer and clap and say, “Congratulations Harrison! We are so proud of you.” And while we celebrate this moment, I thought it would be a good time to go down memory lane, sharing a few pictures of Harry growing up and finally some pictures of his grad last week.

It all started when Harrison was born, two weeks early on December 19th 1998. In the above picture Harrison engages with me as I sing the “Winnie the Pooh song but I replace the Winnie the Pooh part with, “Harrison Drew, Harrison Drew, what a sweet, sweet little bear!”
And of course, one of his favourite stuff toys was a Pooh bear….which wasn’t replaced until his got “Baby bear,” when he was a year old….I think he still has “Baby bear” somewhere in his condo???
I can remember putting this little grey onesie on Harrison….even though he was our third son in a row, it was so much fun dressing him in cute outfits. He wore a lot of sporty type clothing and I’m sure while David was holding Harrison above, he was whispering sports related stories to him……”once you learn to walk, you can bounce a ball, kick a ball, hit a ball and of course swing a golf club.” And I’m sure he was also starting to tell him one of his famous quotes, “if you’re not first, your last!” Although, Harrison must have learned more by observing David and how he treated people because he learned the meaning of a Win/Win and demonstrated it when he won the Grade 12 basketball’s, most sportsmanlike award.

Harrison was always surrounded by big brothers and a sister who loved him so much. When I was choosing a picture for my blog today I had such a hard time finding just one….there were so many of them with his older siblings kissing, hugging, talking and spending time with him. Each has been a wonderful role model for him but he has found his own place in the middle of our family.
One of the first times Harrison visited Vancouver Island, where he would eventually go to University, was when he was 8 months old. He spent most of that first trip seeing the BIG trees at Cathedral Grove and walking the beaches in his backpack. For years we returned for our summer vacations and visiting the Island became a family tradition the kids all grew up with.
The summer of 2003 Harrison spent a lot of time walking Long Beach with a stick and writing his name in the sand.

There were “Harrison’s” all over Long Beach when we left!

While Harrison is a great sport…he likes to win. The picture above was taken last Christmas with his three younger siblings. I believe they were playing, “Betrayal at House on the Hill.” I can’t even describe the level of noise as they played game after game over the holidays. Let’s just say they played it LOUDLY! When they weren’t playing board games they were on the Nintendo Switch playing, “Super Smash Bros,”….same noise level….and lots of jumping up out of their chairs.

Fast Forward….from that Long Beach picture above… 19 years later…

This picture was taken on June 15th, before the U Vic’s business school’s brunch, held at the Empress Hotel’s Crystal Garden, Harrison was given a red braided cord to represent his Dean’s list achievement! It was a delicious brunch and a great way to kick off his Grad day.

Then a few hours after that….

We take a few pictures with Harrison, our latest U Vic Grad. His older sister Alyssa and Mitchell also are U Vic alumni. (thank you D for taking the picture!)
Harrison’s University of Victoria, Grad professional photo!
Standing next to one of the University of Victoria’s age old trees is our son Harrison. I wonder how many grads have stood next to this tree over the years?
We picked up a Diploma frame for Harrison and as David and Harrison walk together, I’d like to think David is telling him how proud he is and that in basketball terminology he’s telling him, “You scored an incredible 3 pointer Harrison.”

And now he’s off into the world of business. At the beginning of July he will start working with RBC’s head office in their Natural Resources department. The world of high finance awaits his entry but I’m not going to lecture, or even give any advice. I’m just here smiling. His Auntie B and Uncle J did give him a lovely graduation card, however, and I believe the words of Ram Dass are wiser than anything I could ever say.

Thank you Auntie B and Uncle J for the card below…..

The world keeps spinning, wars continue to be fought, oil prices rise relentlessly and food insecurity ravages many parts of our world, but we must take the time to dance and celebrate during moments such as this. I believe that together we make this world a better place and you just never know when one of our children will find a cure for cancer, or discover the next big green energy company that will solve the world’s climate crisis. It’s really an exciting time to be a parent, as our children head out into the world to shine in their own light.

Congratulations Harrison!

Until we connect again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Refreshing Rooms

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Welcome blogging friends and family. I’ve been wanting to write about the bedroom refresh we did last fall all winter. Where does the time go? Before spring takes a good hold on me and I’m out in the garden, I’m going to carve out some time right now and tell you all about it.

First some back story and a thanks to Cheryl!

A few years ago, an old high school friend of mine posted pictures of her recently renovated bedroom. I loved them! She had a similar oak bedroom set as ours but had used chalk paint to create a whole new look. It was so refreshing! After building our first house in 1988 we were thrilled to buy a Shermag oak bedroom set AND a matching dining room set at the same time. (I haven’t touched the dining room set…yet.) At the time everything in our new house was all matchy, matchy and looked spectacular throughout the ’90’s. Over the years, the only update we did was covering our brass bed with a new look. You know, new comforter/skirts, and pillows. The most recent comforter set was an expensive treat we bought around ten years ago, or was that twelve. Anyhow, it’s what you do when you have kids as there is always something else to buy; crib bedding, toddler bedding, big kid bedding, teenager bedding, and finally off to University bedding.

So, I put the seed of my friend’s bedroom renovation in my back pocket and finally, FINALLY last fall I pulled it out. It was long overdue but since I love that Cottage Core look I knew painting the oak set was only going to improve the look in our bedroom. I did a ton of research on using chalk paint and while my husband wanted to use the old latex tried and true, I wanted a different look. I also wanted to play around with distressing the piece after it was painted. That’s easier to do when you use chalk paint.

I’m quite proud of myself. I took off all the hardware and then did all the prep, painting and re-assembly of the pulls and handles. The only thing my husband David helped me with was spray painting the brass as he was concerned I’d get it all over the place. It’s true. I usually get more on me than on whatever project I’m painting. The point is, if I can do it, ANYONE, can do it.

I have to say thought that the one thing that held me back all these years from painting this set was that I have always been reluctant to paint over lovely wood.

I have NO regrets though and still, six months later, I’m LOVING my bedroom.

I’ll share the pictures now, but I wanted to let you know that another thing I really love about the new look is that it’s no longer totally matching. The bedside tables and my chest of drawers are all “White Linen” but I did David’s tall boy an “Aged Grey,” which actually looks like a bluish grey. This is a nice change and a bit more masculine. Also, it looks great against the grey/blue walls in our bedroom.

Some of the other extras we bought to refresh the room were:

White curtains from Amazon. I really like them as they are a heavy weight and kept our room warmer this past winter. Finally, I found the carpet this spring on the Wayfair site. The carpet is crucial, as the kids often use our bedroom door to come in after being in the pool or the hot tub and usually they are dripping wet. This saves our wood floor big time.

Okay, ready to see the before and after? Here we go…..oh this is the fun part.

Our old bedroom. Our brass bed and our very ’80’s Shermag Oak bedside tables. Also, check out the lamps…they have little amber beads hanging off the shades. Shea sh! In the corner is my mom’s old dressing table, which our daughter Alyssa had brought home with her last summer when she moved back home. She didn’t have room for it so we kept it in our bedroom, although since then it’s been claimed by our daughter Grace…who asked for a room makeover after she saw how our room turned out. Anyway, looking at my mom’s old dressing table makes me wonder if someday our kids will have some of our pieces and maybe remember when their mom painted the set.
In this picture you can see how much wood we have in our bedroom; wood floors, wood furniture and even the bedding is brown. The comforter folded at the end of the bed is actually a light blue…almost aqua colour and matches with the shams and rectangular pillow. It was lovely years ago but seriously our bedroom needed an update!
Here you can see David’s tall boy better, as well as the curtains and a corner of the old beige rug. I was reluctant to take down the curtains as they were a wonderful room darkening curtain. The rod was a bit bent though as it held up the long span of curtain. I was hoping David could repair it and we could spray paint it black but it was not repairable. We bought a new curtain rod on line.
My bedside table. It would have been nice to find a different table for a new look but once it was painted I loved it again. I think painting the hardware black was a good change as well. I did look into buying new drawer pulls but do you know how expensive it would be to change out all the hardware? Crazy expensive, besides, I could buy new lamps for what it would have cost for new hardware. Tip…David put the old hardware on a large piece of cardboard and just spray painted them when he was doing the brass bed. I think it’s a huge improvement.

Okay are you ready for the transformation?

First, this is the paint we used. We also used, “Aged Grey,” for David’s high boy. Same paint company. I had wanted to try “Annie Sloan’s” chalk paint but I couldn’t find it in our little town so I bought the Rust-oleum White Linen and the Aged Grey. And while I can’t compare it to the Anne Sloan product, I was really happy with the product we used. Also, many people that use chalk paint also finish it with a wax, but David was concerned that it wouldn’t stand up so we used Rust-oleum’s protective top coat. So far, so good! Our bedroom doesn’t get a lot of wear and tear.
Me, in my painting duds….I cleaned all the pieces with a de-greasing cleaning product called, “Simple Green,” before I started painting. The pieces weren’t overly dirty, even though this set was over thirty years old! What I loved about using chalk paint is that it dries super fast!!! It did take me three coats for good coverage but since it dried so fast it only took me one day to paint everything. A tip…I found it handy to spray my brush with water as chalk paint can become too thick for a lovely thin coat. I let everything dry over night and then I took some sanding paper and distressed the pieces. Finally, I put two protective top coats over all the pieces. I waited 24 hours between coats for the top coat to dry well. All in all, it took me three days to paint everything. One day for the chalk paint. One day for the distressing and first coat of protective coating. Then one final day for the final coat of top coat. The evening of the third day I put on the newly sprayed hardware. It a perfect long weekend project.
And now our refreshed bedroom….
The bedding we found at Bed Bath Beyond. It’s a Bee and Willow brand. I fell in love with the “Believe,” pillow also on the Bed Bath Beyond website. I’ve read that sayings are not in vogue any longer but I love this word (believe)….and of course the word, “Hope.” Anyway, it can always be flipped to the other side where it’s just white. The lamp I found on the Wayfair website too. I had gone into our local Homesense store to search for lamps but for the last two years, (throughout Covid) stock has been low. Anyway, I’m happy with the lamps and find at night they throw more light when I’m reading than our old shades did.
Our cat Ryuuki likes our new bedding too. On the edge of the picture you can see the red plaid blanket I had on our bed throughout the Christmas season….it’s my homage to the “Outlander,” books and t.v. series. Both, which I love.
A different angle view. Since we are not lacking mirrors in our master bedroom, we took the mirror off of my dresser and put a couple of lamps and a small smart T.V…..which is actually our daughter Alyssa’s. When she moved home last summer there was no place to put it so instead of storing it in our crawl space, we put it in our bedroom. I haven’t had a t.V. in our bedroom for YEARS….but it’s nice to watch a movie once in awhile in bed.
The picture above David’s high boy is a numbered Brent Heighton print. We went back and forth over changing the frame but decided to leave it as is. We have another one over our bed….and decided that we would not change the frame. You can see the new curtains in this picture as well. I found them on Amazon (I know, I know…we try not to use Amazon but it’s so hard to find items in our small town) and they are a heavy weight and kept our bedroom warmer this past winter. We only lower the venetians in the summer as our view is so great.
When I saw this carpet on the Wayfair site I knew it would be perfect and it is. It’s a 7 x 9
One last look. I think what makes this such a huge improvement is that there is not so much wood. From the aspect of Feng Shui, there is a better balance of all the elements now in the room….and when things are in balance, then there is a greater sense of peace and calm. Isn’t that what we want in a bedroom?
You can see the light distressing I did on my bedside table in this picture. And on my bedside table I keep my gratitude journal, *thank you to my friend T) a candle to light in the evening for a bedtime meditation moment and a place to put my tea cup…”Hope,” …..is always by my side.

If you want to refresh your bedroom but don’t have the time or the cash for a totally refresh, no problem.

Here are some easy ways to refresh your space.

Clean your room really well. Wash the bedding, dry it in the sunshine. Put all your clothes away…hopefully in a decluttered closet.

Add some scent, some lavender essential oil or light some scented candles.

Add a plant or some flowers.

Hang some new art or framed pictures of happy times/loved ones.

Change the lighting….I love to read in bed and having good lighting is important to me. I love the mini lights on my dresser now too!

Clear your bedside table and add only what you love to look at or need.

Add a new soft blanket…something that says, come and have a nap…..something that entices your pet or loved one to join you.

Think about the air in the room, crack a window, make sure you are breathing fresh air when you sleep.

Add some quiet noise….something restful. White noise works for some people but I like cracking the window and hearing the wind, the birds, etc

Rotate.flip the mattress, find a new pillow, remember when you lay down each night, You Are Loved!”

Thank you for visiting today.

This video reminds me of my mom….she would laugh and say, “goodnight Irene.” Going to sleep with a smile is the best way to end the day. Good night my dear family and friends. Good night Irene/mom too!

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

Remembering Mom

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My mom, Ethel May Herrling Clark Finch (March 20, 1926- February 28, 2012)

Happy first day of Spring my dear blogging family! For most of my life the first day of spring was synonymous with my mother’s smile and laughter. You see, it was also my mother’s birthday. Our family used to gather together for afternoon tea and cake, or dinner and an evening of music, and celebrate this oh so special person in our lives. For the last ten years this day has been quiet. Our families don’t gather together any longer. My younger children don’t even remember their grandmother. But every March 20th, for the last ten years, I wake up and the first thing I say is, “Happy Birthday,” to my mom. It’s funny that we do that, even though our loved one is no longer here to get one year older.

But we are here to remember.

Mom had bright green eyes that would shine with love and joy. Eyes that sparkled mischievously after telling a joke. I marvelled at her ability to be so happy. I think she must have worked really hard at it as she perfected the art, despite a lifetime scattered with grief and difficulties. You see, she had lived through the depression, the Second World War and was a widow not once but twice in her lifetime. Somehow she survived it all. But that’s life isn’t it? What choice do we have? We either survive or we don’t. My mom was a good teacher. She taught me how to be a survivor too, although so far my life has been so easy compared to her life. Also, whether consciously trying or not, she laid down deep roots of faith and a constant knowing that I am loved.

Now that’s something to celebrate today. Knowing one is loved is HUGE, don’t you think? ‘Cause we can overcome anything and rise to be our best selves if we know that we are loved. It’s a beautiful thing…and it’s a beautiful day here too. A perfect first day of spring day. The sky is blue, the sun is shining and there are buds starting to burst on all the trees. Another season has come. It’s a season to remember to be joyful. And while my mom isn’t here to hold her hands to her heart, her face shining brightly as we sing happy birthday while carrying another cake towards her, she will always be right here in my heart.

Happy Birthday Mom!

My gift to her today is remembering, but also honouring her by smiling at everyone that I meet. My mom had a special gift of making others feel special. She was genuinely interested in them and their problems. She would lift them up with a smile, or a kind word. She would go out of her way and do something kind for them. She made the world a brighter place and I know that she would be proud if I carried her legacy on.

So whatever you are doing today, stop for a moment, take a slow, deep breath, hold your hands palm up and let the residue of my mom’s love for the world find you. You are sooo loved. Let that knowledge sink into your heart and may you be glad today. It’s Spring. It’s a day to celebrate!!!

Below is a video that my sister C’s family filmed during one of mom’s birthday celebrations. I love it as it’s so home movie…ish….and so mom.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

A Must Read; “Five Little Indians” by Michelle Good

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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.

A while ago, I was looking at my local library’s website offering suggestions for books to read and I came across, Michelle Good’s book, “Five Little Indians.” I’ve been wanting to learn more about the Indian Residential Schools for a few years now. The interest was heightened more so last year after the discovery of the 200 plus unmarked graves at a nearby Residential School site in Kamloops, just north of us. Since then, sadly more and more unmarked graves have been found all across Canada at former Residential Schools.

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.

Blessings from Hope

The Joy of a New Year ~ 2022

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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.

Blessings from Hope

Winter’s Gift

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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.

Blessings from Hope/aka….Lee

A Mouse Trap Free Zone

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Dear blogging friends and family.

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. 

The End

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————

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.

Blessings from Hope

Tall, Dark, and Handsome

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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.

Blessings from Hope

A Touch of Blue

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“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

9. Mobilize for local climate action

10. Get politically active and vote

Click on the following hyper link if you want to read the specifics regarding the above suggestions. Top Ten Things You Can Do About Climate Change

GREAT NEWS!

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.

Blessings from Hope