Older tho no wiser

Speaking of Childish Delight

2012-01-10T09:13:00.003-05:00

I spent some time with my favourite 15 month old yesterday. Last week we had been reading books together and I really hadn't paid too much attention to his choice of books but yesterday. his mom was there and she mentioned that Baby Sign was his favourite book and so he and I played "sign"as we went through the little book twice, and then again- repeat .

I was bored by that time and was hoping to have more adult conversation as this was not a one on one with the lad but had been intended as a visit with Mom interspersed with periods of boy-time. He had other ideas and after we once again very cutely signed our way through drink, hot, finish, apple, bannana I tried to move onto other toys. The little man had other thoughts and continued to sign more to me. How could I not ! We worked our way through the book again several times.

Baby sign is not only incredibly cute it is very useful ! Allowing a non verbal child to convey his needs, desires and wants is a brilliant idea! I can imagine the frustration that could have been avoided for my own sons had I been aware if this system when they were small. Now if only I'd of had the presence of mind to sign finish back at him when he was insisting on more !

Here is a link I located if you are interested in knowing a little more about baby sign language.
http://www.babysignlanguage.com/chart/

Childish Delight

2011-12-23T08:14:00.001-05:00

Christmas, ah Christmas!

Recently I was asked what it is that I like best about Christmas. Perhaps the question came up because I was singing as I baked shortbread cookies. I had to think about it and I realized it is the anticipation of Christmas that I love best . The endless possibilities, the optimism, the good will.

It is inevitable that there will be disappointments at Christmas.If not for me and mine then certainly for someone we know, or someone will be introduced to through the media.

Until then, I will sing under my breathe and look forward to the sharing of good will, food and yes- even gifts, with my family. I will relish the coming together and the pause in this part of the world as we celebrate together.

Merry Christmas to you.

Ahh Facebook!

2011-12-04T13:22:00.001-05:00

I really enjoy popping in on Backwoods Mom every now and then. She is living the life I imagined myself living back when I was in my 20's. I didn't have the stamina or the strength to keep it up and left the backwoods after 3 seasons for somewhere with running water and central heating. It was an interesting bit of serendipity to see her topic this week was also Facebook!

Facebook

2011-11-25T10:02:00.000-05:00

it's a love hate relationship with me. The postings are so meaningless and yet. . . from time to time there is a gem. You tell me something real- that is me and all your other friends.I'd prefer you called but we just don't have that kind of a connection but I do like to keep up with you, really I do. The thing I find so amazing and can never figure out how to share with other people is the range of Facebook friends I have.

Down the alley way from the house my family moved into when I was a teen was a young family with two kids. The mom was pregnant with a third and later went on to have a fourth. I was the eldest daughter in a large family and well experienced in child care. I babysat for them. I loved to spend my Friday nights at their home. The house was clean and well ordered and there were yummy treats. The kids were bathed and I just had to put the older boy to bed and the evening was mine.

The little girl was almost always asleep and what a beautiful little girl she was. I used to stand and watch her sleep, her silky curls on her pillow, her lightly tanned cheeks flushed and rosy. I could imagine being mother to a daughter like her with a beautiful well ordered home like that-so unlike my own home just a few steps away. I grew up and moved away and had two sons,the most wonderful caring intelligent sons. My house has never been well-ordered but it has been a happy life.

My kids grew up far from my family and the idea of leaving them with a neighbourhood teen in charge every Friday night didn't occur to me but eventually a day came when we parents needed to get out, and so we asked among our friends and found a teenaged girl well experinced in the care of young lads. She didn't come often but when she did I was so grateful! Time passed she grew up and we forgot about her but as fate would have it- and the fact that this largish town is just like that- I am now working with her. This lovely woman with two children of her own and she is my Facebook friend!

Through my younger sister I have also been in touch with the little girl I babysat for every Friday through 1963 to 1967 and SHE is my Facebook friend also! As I wade through the meaningless and the pointless posts I see updates from both of these women and I am amazed at the ground that Facebook allows me to cover from my teens through my mommy days and on until today and I am grateful for the pearls I find along the way.

Dear Neighbour,

2011-11-03T13:04:00.000-04:00

I'm breaking up with you. I know it's been awhile and perhaps you thought I wasn't paying attention but I was. Really the problem is my lawn and your dog - it's toxic. So, gather up your shit and don't come back.

Autumn Leaves

2011-11-03T11:10:00.007-04:00

The words have been running through my tuneless mind. I had to stop raking the leaves, come into the house and listen. I hope you enjoy Paula Cole.
If not, perhaps Eric Clapton will warm your heart.
Enjoy!

Removed from reality.

2011-11-02T18:56:00.001-04:00

I had occasion to work with someone I don't know at all today. We were staff at a conference and there was a whole lot of down time and so, we chatted. Her hair was thick and lovely, she was trim and fit. She had beautiful clothing and she took great care with her appearance. We spoke of her social life and her desire to be a mom. She was by outward appearances a confident woman looking for a man, a gal in tune with the biological imperative to reproduce. I couldn't believe what she said and I am still shaking my head in wonder. How is it that people, indeed women today have become so removed from the reality of life?

This seemingly educated young women in a conversation about birth said "It's just not natural. It's totally unnatural to push a baby from you vagina. It's just not natural!"

Ya ha! Is it natural, Honey. That's how it happens most of the time!

What we do.

2011-10-25T19:06:00.000-04:00

We buy CDs. We like to choose and handle our music. Bringing home new music to share is a gift like roses or wine. Later we discover a recording that has fallen out of play and we nod and smile and share it again.

In the afternoon

2011-10-23T18:04:00.000-04:00

we play Scrabble without keeping score.
On Sunday, side by side, as the sunlight begins to wane
It's the pleasure of your company that brings me to the board.

Milestones

2011-10-13T12:11:00.002-04:00

When my Grand was younger he came to me on Tuesdays.

After he had settled in I'd ask him if he wanted a "kid cofee." Almost always, the answer was "yes" and we'd sit together sipping and plan our day. I have been making him his cocoa ever since. With one thing and another; his mother moving to the burbs, high-school, and a part-time job he and I don't see each other often enough and so the ritual has fizzled out.

He joined us for Thanksgiving dinner this weekend. The dinner had been planned around his work schedule. The turkey dinner had been shared and we had all retired to the living room to digest and engage in a lively game of Cranium. There was pumpkin pie waiting for us and so after a time I took a poll of what beverages were neeeded to wash down the pie.

"I'll have tea Gramma" my darling little boy said. It was a first! That little boy is gone, and now my university student grandson is drinking tea.

Don't tell him I made him decaf;o)

SIXTY

2011-09-08T02:53:00.000-04:00

Huh! How did this happen?

Morning has Broken

2011-03-24T17:18:00.000-04:00

I had an early morning appointment one day this week - really early. I left the house at 6:35 to catch the 6:45 bus. There isn't yet much traffic at that time of the day where I live. I was half a block away from my stop when the bus rolled on past me. Helpless, I stood annoyed for just a moment then moved on to the 24 hour convenience store across from my stop. The coffee had just finished brewing. I paid for my cup of coffee and took it across the street to wait the twenty, or so, minutes until the next bus arrived.

As I stood there warming my hands and waking my mind, a bat fluttered past. Time passed and and then the sky was cluttered with crows setting out for the day.

What the body remembers

2011-03-16T19:51:00.003-04:00

I've had terrible trouble with my shoulders. It is a fact.

The gentle kind woman who helps me with my body troubles was massaging my forearms. I'd just endured the intensity of stripping the fascia in my shoulder and this touch was a soothing reward for the previous intense touch. With an altered awareness I was back in my childhood bedroom,as the public health nurse rubbed strength into my scarlet fever wracked body. Time heals but the body remembers when reminded.

Greybeard

2011-01-03T01:25:00.005-05:00

Although we have grown old together, I have never again seen your chin.

Remaining relevant

2010-12-28T12:24:00.009-05:00

The original goal of this blog was to document and share the journey into old age. I fail miserably at it. I know I have crested and am gaining momentum but for the most part,so far, my days go on and I am oblivious to where I am on the pathway... until I am not. Then I plan to share but it seems so trivial or it doesn't seem trivial at all and I am frightened and like a child if I say it, it is true. So I don't

I was reading old XUP postings- gawww I miss THAT jeune fille! and thought of linking to several of her posts but stummbled across this, which brought tears to my eyes but also joy to my heart.

Days with my Father

Hurdman Station

2010-11-23T01:01:00.003-05:00

SHIT!
17 minutes to wait.
Weak November sun trying to warm the morning
Mother Parker's coffee,the temperature just right.
Single honey sesame snaps,a package all to myself.
Not the worst way to start the day.

Crosswalk Concert

2010-11-23T00:42:00.003-05:00

Urbanears to the right of me,
Harmonica to the left,
Hear I am, stuck in the music again!

Crosswalk tales

2010-11-11T17:07:00.003-05:00

Stuck in the middle of you
ipod to the left of me
ipod to the right
here I am stuck in the middle of you!

Bob Dylan - Stuck In The Middle With You lyrics

I know you meant well

2010-09-29T20:36:00.005-04:00

and I appreciated being able to sit on the crowded bus, truly I did, so please forgive me as I offer this suggestion.

Next time offer your seat by saying
" May I offer you my seat?"

I will say, "why thank you, yes."

It could also be possible for me to say "How kind of you to offer but, thank you- I prefer to stand." Or perhaps "How kind of you to offer but, I am getting off at the next stop."

Unfortunately you said to me "Do you need my seat?" And yes, yes I did.

Embarassment

2010-06-14T00:20:00.006-04:00

As wide as two seats, there was little gap between he and his wife on the four seat bench. As we had boarded he had been chatting up the bus driver but now had turned to watch the embarking passengers.

A comely young woman got on, tall and lithe, in slim jeans and a long coat, her doe eyes peeked out from behind a niqab. His head turned from her as a couple of colour got on. Her head dress elaborate folds of colourful fabric the same as her elegant dress; he in a grey business suit with an embroidered damask cap upon his head.

Next an impassive Asian man.

"Passports" he said loudly, "Passports."

The Asian man appeared not to understand and made his way towards the back.

Several people jostled through, groceries were stowed and back packs adjusted.People settles here and there. He appraised them all.

The bus began to pull away and abruptly stopped. The driver opened the door and lowered the bus with a w-oo-sh. A tiny lady got on.

"Passport" he crowed.

A younger woman stood up,
" NO!" she announced firmly! and shook her finger at him.
" Aunt-ie! my seat" she said kindly then glowered at him.

The tiny lady took the offered seat and as the bus pulled away they began a conversation in a language I couldn't undertand.

Do the Math

2010-06-14T00:07:00.003-04:00

Over heard on the bus March 24th~

" I didn't want to tell him when there were people in the store, like I didn't want to tell him and then have to work. He was in the back and I walked up to him and he said-
'You're gonna quit, aren't you?'
so I told him. That was the easiest it's ever been. I didn't have to work with him all pissed and stuff. Seriously that was the easiest!"

"Have you quit lots?"

" Yeah, and usually they get all pissed"

" How long did you work there?"

" Eight months, like eight months!"

"That's pretty long..."

" Yeah it's a long time, like I started the middle of September. That's a long time to work some place"

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Welcome Sounds

2010-06-13T23:54:00.002-04:00

04/09/08

Welcome Sounds
Squirrels bounding on the rooftop at day break,
water running
running
running to the swollen river.
Crows cawing.
Gulls are calling
hackers hacking, piles of dirty snow
drip
drip
a snowblower running dry.
tap tap
tap tap
a flicker looking down and sees the clear spring sky

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge

2010-06-13T23:51:00.002-04:00

4/1/08
April
I have no desire to venture beyond the hedge today.
The sticky gate is blocked by four feet of tired dirty snow.
The coquette, Spring, plays with my winter weary heart.
Drizzle drips from the sky.
Diamond drips from linden branches and bird song beckons,
I resist. My boots are leaking.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Pink Cammo

2010-06-13T23:47:00.002-04:00

3/31/08
Pink cammo
There it lay, discarded or dropped, at the side of the path. A scarf, a pink cammo scarf, in the dirty receding winter snow waiting perhaps for Spring?

Is there a nefarious plan afoot to secret tiny girls in rose bushes; sweet spring babies in the apple blossoms?

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Shift worker morning

2010-06-13T23:41:00.004-04:00

1/24/08
Shift worker morning;day off.

Groggy morning, woolly muffy morning no need to tumble down the stairs. I awake on the chesterfield, a dim ribbon of morning light from under the window blind ignites my bleary eyes. Rambling into the kitchen I see the residue of his morning pot of coffee still in the carafe at the back of the stove. I touch the glass side and feel the residual heat. I nuke it, add cream and return to my nest of covers. Savoring the aroma and heat I see the remnants of the sunrise as I swim forward into the day.

I consider my mental to do list. No time to linger. People close by; hands on my hair, my body; a bath is in order. Still cupping the coffee I drift towards the bathroom and while I wait I put the warm mug against my sinus and watch the tub slowly fill. "God , my shoulder hurts "I think as I tentatively begin to bend, twist and flex.

High on caffeine and restorative bathwater I dry quickly and pull on clothes-new clothes. The exhilaration of simple indulgences after a long period of unemployment lifts me from my fog. In spite of the weather outside, I rummage though the bottom of the closet for my favourite boots. I rifle through his drawer for wool work socks to make the footwear work.

At the bus shelter a young women with a rainbow hat waits. I notice her mitts are rainbow too. "Have you been here long?” I ask. “Not long but I expect the next bus soon” she says. She is my first conscious connection of the day. Her youth, her mittens, the wonderful whimsical messenger bag draped across her young frame make me warm to her and we talk. I talk, she talks. I notice the volume of traffic and then she tells me of a detour down this street in front of us, of an accident a fatal accident a few blocks away over night, of a barricaded crime scene. My ebullience gone I consider for the first time being late for my appointment. Sobered, I apologize for being so chatty as the bus pulls up.

I pass up a number of single seats and make my way to towards the back, up one step to a double seat. Seconds later, she slips in beside me and our conversation resumes.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Teach of Sell

2010-06-13T23:39:00.001-04:00

12/2/07
Teach or Sell

Teach or sell,
when well done, they are so similar; the same really.

You use your power to convince someone, who didn't know they wanted to, to do something, they didn't know they wanted to do.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; The Characters I have known

2010-06-13T23:28:00.004-04:00

11/9/07
The Characters I have known
Patty-Jo was from Florida and Buzz from Georgia. Mr. and Mrs. Buzz Wright, seriously, or maybe not.
Patty-Jo had long since stopped being Patty-Jo and had become Ashley, Ashley Wright, Mrs. Buzz Wright. This was a long time ago, long-before the current crop of Ashley's were even twinkles. The Wright's were my neighbours then, when we all lived on the wrong side of the tracks.
My street was a dead end. It ended dead away at an un-scalable chain link fence. ‘S-T-O-P, you aren't passing and if you doubt it the blackberry canes will get you before the barbed wire or the trains do!’
The Wright's street, the same-although no blackberry canes grew at the end, and the J of my back alley emptied onto their street leaving them a down hill exit from their street which they, and other neighbours, used to jump start cars in need of new batteries, starters and other optional accessories.

Ashley, slender and blonde wore long skirts and gauzy blouses. She spoke with a quiet soft airy voice. NaivelyI, big horse of a girl, found it romantic and an appealing part of her southern charm. Ashley told of an idyllic childhood, her father a professional ball player and her mother the house wife, and of her one brother-Jack. She talked of hot afternoons curled up in a porch swing with Archie comics and icy sodas and of warm evenings bike riding through orchards and down country roads, in the cool mist of the tractors as the chemicals lingered over the orchards and roadways. Ashley had severe asthma.

I'm not sure why we saw so much of one and others, but I suppose she was lonely being in a new country and isolated in our little ghetto, and I was there newly married and under employed. Ashley had a little boy, which was how she came to be Mrs. Buzz Wright. Her son Zachary, had been called “Do-Dah” since the day he came home from the hospital. Ashley, Buzzy, and Do-dah, the not so traditional nuclear family.

Ashley said she had been afraid Buzz would send her away when she told him of her pregnancy. He had said, she couldn't be his “old lady” any longer, because a baby needed married parents, and so they had married. She had wore a lace dress, and he buckskin. A framed photos sat on the mantel of their yellow Victorian three story framehome. Ashley loved pale yellow and Buzz gave her a pale yellow Studebaker with a chrome continental kit as a wedding present. It arrived from California a few weeks after they arrived on the street behind mine.

How could I not notice?

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Hear Hear

2010-06-13T23:15:00.002-04:00

8/8/07
Little Pictures Have Big Ears
If Alligator Pie had been written when I was a little kid, it would have been my favourite book.

“Tickle your tum in To-ronto”
Toronto; exotic, and far away. In “the east,” like Red China with all the little children wishing they had more rice in their bowls

Calgary – you have to admit it’s a pretty cool word, if you say it just right.

For a while, I thought Christ died at Calgary on the green hill far away without a city wall. I didn't see a city wall when I was there, but then at Sunday school they told me about Calvary.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; OAK

2010-06-13T23:12:00.000-04:00

4/16/07
OAK
Walter reminded me of a tree, an ancient oak tree.
He was a solidly built man, silent and observant. He seldom had much to say and yet he was always there on the periphery of the group, usually silent, and watching. When he did speak it had value.
I once told him that reminded me of an oak- strong, silent, and enduring. It was the wrong thing to say. Never tell an amputee he reminds you of a tree.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Ladder to Success

2010-06-13T22:59:00.004-04:00

02/05/07
Ladder to success

Part of being successful is figuring out what you want.

It seems straight forward when you put it that way. I am from a generation who was not brought up to think about success or to plan for it. I was taught it was my duty to be a good wife and mother, to be a good citizen and a contributing member of my community. I was certain that I wanted to have a loving lasting relationship and I am fortunate to have found someone I could grow with, who was similarly committed. A community of two.

Over time, the constituency of my community has changed. My community has been my birth family, and then my school and my friends which became our friends. As a pre-teen, I imagined my community to be my church but this was not, for me, a long time community. As a parent the community of my children became my community.

So once the need to belong to a particular community has been removed where does that leave me? Alone with myself and my own family. Here I have success but as my children move on what is it I need and what is it I want?

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; A Good Year

2010-06-13T22:51:00.000-04:00

12/13/06
A Good Year
I had coffee with a lost friend today. We recently reconnected and it was the first time we a chance to sit down together to cover the last seven years. She told me she had declared 2006 a 'Good Year' because she hadn't lost any body parts.
Ain't cancer a bitch?

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Morning crows

2010-06-13T22:47:00.003-04:00

11/17/06
I was up before dawn today and as I sat in the window and watched the sky lighten I saw the crows, again. There were waves and waves of them and they flew very low again today, perhaps because of the wind and low clouds. I am fascinated.
I have made inquires. My neighbour says they spend their nights in the trees outside of the hospital complex north east of here which makes seems to sense from the direction of their dusk migration. She says it is very disconcerting to leave the hospital after dark. The trees seem alive with shadows and the crow s movements and the undertones of their voices. I want to go on a field trip.
I have heard a report of them congregated in trees south of here during the day. The good hunting I imagine to be the draw. The ground has been cleared and there is road construction in the area.

Another sighting places many crows at dusk, between here and the hospital, beside a semi deserted tennis court on the edge of a green belt. Overflow perhaps.
I love the word rookery, apparently it applies to European crows. The American crow is said to be secretive in its nesting habits. Not these. Research is required.

Ancient History; Beyond the Hedge; Fear

2010-06-13T22:43:00.001-04:00

11/27/06
Fear
When I was a kid I was afraid of heights, very afraid.
We had a little footbridge over a dry ditch. I couldn't cross it.
When I rode in a car I laid down on the floor of the back seat as we drove over high bridges.

Fear has a colour.
It is grey, a frightening green tinged grey.

Fear has a feeling. When seated it is a flash of fire in the thighs above and beside the knees. The energy dissipates in a flash that circles the belly and leaves it aching.
My fear of heights has re-awakened. My belly hurts.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Morning Vision

2010-06-13T22:37:00.003-04:00

10/17/06
Morning Vision

I floated upward from sleep and parted the clouds of my slumber. Feet planted on the smooth chilly bedside floor, I tested and rose to a wavering stand. Before me, the window was curtained fast. I reached out and parted the curtains.

The dawn sky was the colour of a flamingo's dreams. The crows, reversing their sunset migration, were arising from their secret places. A torrent of crows winged forth to the early morning skies. Their flight plan had them start low and then rise rapidly, directly over my house. It was as if I could reach out and touch their iridescent undercarriages.

I crouched down and sank back onto the bed. I closed my eyes to remember. Forever.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge; Gallant

2010-06-13T22:25:00.006-04:00

10/12/06
Gallant

My hero
I was first to the bus stop. In time to see the butt end of the bus fading away. I closed my umbrella and stepped into the empty shelter. Moments later Cynthia stepped into the shelter after peering up the road into the headlights and drizzle.

"We missed it" I said as she removed her plastic rain hat and smoothed her hair. I moved over indicating the bench but she shook her head.

Nadia rounded the corner and nodded to me as she reached to hug her neighbour. I faded away into the drizzle and headlights as they talked about Nadia's twin teens and Cynthia's trip home, to the Caribbean.

A man with a heavy leather brief case peeked into the shelter from under a plaid golf umbrella. We began to rearrange ourselves but he shook his head and reaching inside placed his brief case on the floor away from the puddles. As the sky lightened he stood outside, shifting his weight from foot to foot. I wondered about his choice of foot wear for such a wet morning. His shoes were a woven leather and seemed out of synch with his conservative business clothing.

The headlights of the bus became visable and I judged the severity of the rainfall against the inconvenience of having a dripping umbrella on a crowded bus and kept my umbrella closed. Nadia stepped out of the shelter. The gentleman put his umbrella over her head but she stepped out from under it. Undeterred, he turned to Cynthia who took his arm. He helped her up the single stair onto the bus. I stepped forward towards the but in the now pouring rain. He turned back for me, picking up his brief case as he did. We walked across the sidewalk together, under the shelter of his umbrella, and I mounted the bus ahead of him.

I felt the glow of my smile at his chivalry long after the raindrops had dried.

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge;The Lonely Only

2010-06-13T22:20:00.004-04:00

10/3/06
The Lonely Only

I spent a lot of my childhood alone, looking out the window, waiting. "Children are to be seen and not heard" was a frequently repeated theme of my early childhood. So as I waited quietly, I observed.

The best observation post the year I was five was behind the curtain looking out the dining room window. It was out of sight but not out of earshot and had a magical view of the neighbour's wonderful overgrown garden which was filled with holly trees, the friendly chirping of wet sparrows, joyous robins , and wandering cats.

Other years, other windows.

One window somewhere, some year, was home to many lady bird bugs. I remember their earthy odour and the warmth of the sunny window where they congregated .
My favourite white t-shirt was a Lady Bird brand t-shirt. I didn't get to wear it often enough for my liking and I can remember being helped into it one lucky morning. After surfacing from the confusion of armholes and neck hole I happily recited~

"Lady bird, lady bird fl-y away home, your house is on fire, and your children are alone"

"We don't leave children alone" my mother said

Ancient History: Beyond the Hedge;Doesn't play well with others,

2010-06-13T22:08:00.005-04:00

09/12/06
I attended a workshop on the weekend. We did an exercise where we circulated the room for two minutes without making intentional eye contact with the other participants, keeping our heads down, with no speaking or touching others.In the next part of the exercise we circled the room for two minutes and made what I will call furtive eye contact with the other participants, still with no speaking or touching anyoneand no smiles. Then we circled the room yet again, and tried to make a connection through eye contact and smiles. AND lastly, we did the same again but this time we could offer greetings, shake hands, hug, wink, although we weren't to actually stop and talk .

Now the whole thing was quite simple, and I predicted the results, at least to myself, in advance. What I wasn't prepared for was the intensity of emotion the exercise created in me!
The first situation felt ordinary to me. I glanced, I evaluated, I gathered evidence, I made suppositions. In the second instance where we looked furtively at people I felt very lonely, I felt like I was being judged and there was a real tension there for me.
When we evaluated these situations one of the participants likened it to being put in the corner as a child and said she found it more difficult than the first situation because there was no expectation of interaction but no peace from it’s absence either.

In the third situation, where we were allowed to make eye contact and smile, I was surprised to find how cheated I felt when I offered myself to others and they chose not to engage. Because this was a varied group from a wide range of situations there were those who did not feel safe or comfortable engaging with me. I felt like I put myself out there and they denied me something I wanted-obviously this was in a very subtle way and I might not have actually noticed it had it not been in the context of self examination and discussion. Interesting to me was the participant when I offered my observation who asked me, did I feel "cheated" because "I wanted something from them?" or did I feel "cheated" because "they didn't want to take what I was giving?" I didn't have a clear take on that. I am not sure I do now.

The last part of the exercise was the real revelation for me. I felt invigorated and very positive but ALSO I had had enough very quickly. I became satiated and wanted to move on.
Now perhaps that is because we had just spent all this time demonstrating what I had felt was a predictable result, or maybe it was a heads up to me. I have been told I can be brusque and other people are sometimes intimidated by me. I worked for a Mega American corporation for a time and we were subjected to the best modern HR has to offer, three times a year. Repeatedly during this performance evaluation process I was told my colleagues didn't know what to make of me - my answer was "that is their problem"-but, they knew they could rely on me. SIGH!

I am still evaluating what to take away from all of this,other than the obvious you feel better when you make a connection message. I think it may also indicate I need to be a bit more patient with others.

Do you think there is a t-shirt that says "Doesn't play well with others" out there?

the days are long

2010-05-12T22:05:00.003-04:00

The days they are long but the years fly by- a beautiful and moving tribute!

What I have read this year

2010-01-24T11:53:00.001-05:00

The Bean Trees - Barbara Kingsolver *****
What the Body Remembers - Shauna Singh Baldwin*****
Break In - Dick Francis ***
Mrs Miracle- Debbie Mc Comber -*

Splish! Splash!

2009-10-14T00:14:00.002-04:00

I have new rubber boots. They are orange-coloured. They bring me childish joy! I can't wait for it to rain.

Changeable

2009-09-30T22:50:00.003-04:00

Some days I am an old lady with a handkerchief in her purse patiently waiting for the bus.Other days, I am fleet of foot with a scarf around my neck, my ipod inplace striding on in my ipaths.

Manners

2009-09-22T20:29:00.002-04:00

"Excuse me," or the more correct "excuse me please" is a request not a warning , don't you agree?

Is time running out?

2009-08-03T23:52:00.003-04:00

Last week I had three people either ask me if I was retired or, inquire when I will retire.

I find this distressing.

Almost as distressing as when I was taking college course and someone asked what course I taught.

Easy Rider

2009-07-22T09:39:00.005-04:00

My friend Karen has a new bike, a big bike. A Honda 750-I think.
I have never wanted a bike, not even to ride on the back.

I am envious.

I am envious of her joy. I hear it in her voice, I see it in her eyes. THAT, I want.

Butterflies in my tummy!

2009-07-13T17:14:00.007-04:00

I have been on Weight Watchers for one week. Tonight is my second weigh in. It hasn't been hard food wise but it has been concious-ness wise.
Have I fooled myself?
Even a little weight off will be a reward but oh! to be one of the rare few who have a big loss at the beginning. I could really use that boost.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2009-06-15T09:22:00.004-04:00

Um, SORRY Linda Rondstat, let me rephrase that, We are leaving on a slow train and we know when we'll be back again.

This is the second time we have taken advatntage of Via Rail's Seniors Companion fares and what a treat it is to be able to do this! My life companion has reached the age of 60 which allows him to take along a companion at no cost when travelling in Canada. Last Fall we took a short trip to Toronto by train what a pleasure not to have to race down the 401 but to sit parallel, relax and talk, and both just enjoy! My Darling drives all day-every day during the course of his work but we don't actually operate a private car any longer and I have discovered I really miss the interaction that goes on during a drive together but for the most part, the trip down the King's highway is not my idea of fun. I am a white knuckle passenger when it comes to congestion and in-town driving.

After a rally like road trip in 2007 covering 3900 km in 7 days with wonderful sights and camping along the way, I am looking forward to this trip by rail that will allow us time to get out of the rented car we will pick up at our destination and traverse a few trails and breathe the sea air.

Check out Via or other rail lines in your area and see what's available for you.

http://www.viarail.ca/seniors/en_aine_conf_offr.html
As they said back in Linda's heyday "Take it easy take the train!"

a Storm of discontent

2009-04-20T13:58:00.004-04:00

Todays post is brought to you by the letter C.

C is for cookie which is good enough for many but C is also for CURMUDGEON a term which I may deserve. You will have to make the determination for yoursel.

http://www.concentric.net/~marlowe/curdef.shtml

It has been seven years since I gave up my car. The decision came about for many reasons, I no longer enjoyed driving, after two accidents without injury I felt like my number was up, I had serious ecological concerns, I had just taken on my first mortgage. . . the list goes on. So my reality is I walk I bike and I use public transit. Not a season goes past that someone somewhere in our fair town does not write a letter to the editor lamenting the behaviour of students on the bus. Personally I see kids being kids oblivious for the most part to the adults around them. I have asked for a seat and willingly been given one on the rare days when I have been too loaded down to stand myself. I have excused myself when I needed to pass and no one has ever willingly denied me passage.

SO imagine my delight when the Darling Grand, a young man of 15, and I were on the bus during the recent Spring Break. It was just after 4pm and a woman in her early 50's got on and stood near to us. The Darling Grandchild leaned over and whispered in my ear "should I get up and give her my seat Grammy?" Proudly I nodded and he addressed her personally offering his seat.

We shuffled; he out, me to the window seat, and her sliding in to take my place. Not a smile did she crack, not a thank you did she utter. The Lad swayed above us as we crawled home. Imagine his embarassment!

C is for COURTESY and THAT is a two way street!

Moving on...

I recently had issue with our local Cable service provider. I was given misinformation and based on that misinformation I made a decision that I would not otherwise have made. I called back to see if there was some resolution to this issue. I was advised there was nothing that could be done for me. I asked for a supervisor who once again told me there was nothing that could be done for me (not true since the matter was eventually resolved to my satisfaction, but I digress) however the Supervisor would provide agent feedback and the agent would be coached on his error and his Manager could call me back.

OKAY so please tell me why I would be concerned about the career development of this agent,why I would be interested in internal disciplinary procedures? How would it help me as the consumer here today to know that in future, callers may not be provided with the misinformation I was given?

Oh and C is also for CUSTOMER SERVICE
and on with the C's or so it seems

Today I went to Giant Books- you know the one-the mega store that's larger than the community hospital in small towns. There were a number of specific titles I needed in a hurry and I knew I could get with one trip -not an option in my funky little independant bookstore. Putting my titles down on the counter I announced I'd like a Loyalty card because after all every body likes a deal, mine was expired by several years - I love my independant bookstore. The clerk to her credit pharased the question well - Was I a teacher or a senior over 65?

"I wish" I said.

"That's not an answer I have ever had" she said brightly. She said she planned to age with vigour and enthusiasm. I assured her that certainly I would have said the same thing just a few years ago but there would come a day when others would see her as grey and therfore old and as a corollory simple, feeble minded, or stupid. Surely not she said. I just smiled at her, my knowing older woman smile.
She verbalized my total as she swiped my debit card.

"How much?" I asked.

Sweetly she began to explain the bill, offering I had saved $13.

"But how much was the loyalty card?" I asked.

"Well you saved thirteen dollars." she began again.
"I understand I have benefitted from the loyalty card but HOW much does it cost?

Once again She tried the company line
"based on your purchases today I'd say with just one more visit the card will have paid for"

So here are my words to the wise corporate types out there, You can teach your customer service staff how to handle customer objections but seriously you cannot buy consumer loyalty with $25 of the consumers own money!

There was another topic I wanted to address and I am pretty sure it also began with a C but I think I have said enough for now and so I will just curl up for a nice little Catnap which also begins with C

Fall 2008

2009-04-13T14:59:00.002-04:00

Afterwards. . .

silver whorls upon your chest, near where my head I lay to rest
what else are those old man's pyjamas keeping from me?

March'09

2009-04-06T22:14:00.002-04:00

My favorite Auntie whispered in my ear and told me her fears. When did I stop bringing her mine? I hope I am up to the task.

Old News!

2009-03-22T20:36:00.007-04:00

Parenting Advice

2009-02-15T13:56:00.008-05:00

I've been there, I've done that, and I have the men to show for it! From these experiences there is one bit of wisdom I need to share with you, Younger Sister,

"boys just want to have guns!"

Good Morning ?

2009-02-01T00:23:00.004-05:00

Morning came early today as it has all winter, not so very early, but early,for when I peek my swaddled nose out the door the sky is just lightening to morning blue but first. . .

I have set my alarm a little late, an extra 15 since I am alone
It’s Saturday and there’ll be no one to bounce off in the kitchen, no one to ace out for first spot in front of the mirror for the final abloutions and brushings, just a contented snore as I close the bedroom door.

I manage a decent breakfast – some mornings food appalls me; but not today. I chew on rye toast slathered in peanut butter, wash down supplements and meds with berry juice and savour a fragrant cup of 1/3 dark roast with cream before stealth fully cracking the bedroom door seal and silently grabbing my worn jeans, a nice sweater and “hey never mind it’s not like the customers can see me “ vintage sweatshirt reclaimed from the attic last Fall; a cast off from our former teen.

Socks-check

Glasses-check

Downstairs I go tugging clothes on as I descend – no it’s almost and I gotta move reverb through my head. How is it so late?

ID-check

On with the sweatshirt.
On with the hat.
Scarf, twice wrapped.
Double knot the joggers, adjust the socks,
Coat on -zipper up.
Gloves tucked into cuffs.
Back pack on .

I lock the door behind me, pull my scarf over my nose, adjust my hood over my hat, and struggle through the snow drifted across the back deck. As I hit the driveway I am cinching the back pack straps closer to my body and I begin a quick pace to make up for lingering over the comics and hesitating at the door
I will warm up, I will warm up I chant to myself. Soon I have my stride and my footing and I am listening as the snow screeches under foot – it’s not the crackle or the squeak but the screech that-15 brings.
,
I am 4 blocks away from home, the sun is up, my cheeks are burning. and good fortune smiles on me a thoughtful colleague pulls up, and I hop in. It is only 15 more minutes of walking but <> I am grateful for the ride that ensures an early arrival and that when I arrive I will quickly warm up. Some days this year it has been after my first coffee break before I recover from the cold temperatures.

I am at work early, well fed after a good nights sleep. This day is going to be a breeze!

The staff is still pretty slim and the centre has no electricity. There is no buzz, yet. One agent is catching a few more minutes of rest, head on her desk Images of Miss McKinnon’s class flash through my head. Why is it this place most reminds me of classrooms I thought I’d long since left behind? Most of the agents are quietly looking over the days news and exchanging gossip. The on-duty managers are managing amongst themselves. I take my favourite seat

It’s not so very much the actual seat as the things that go into making this a strategic location. I sit here often, I know the idiosyncrasies of the computer. The fluorescent light overhead is a little behind and to the right. It is and end seat – there is a bank of filing cabinets to my left and 15 feet before the next bank of stations – as quiet as it can get. The air vent over top to the left a good 10 feet- no drafts or blasts of heat. It’s not a thru path to anywhere.The chair is just right and the keyboard:relatively clean – of course it is!
I clean it every shift and I sit here 4 or 5 days a week. After me some days it remains empty until I return. The head set works perfectly.

I sit down and log on to the system – I can do this without my glasses – good thing since they are still foggy. I carefully stuff my scarf,hat and gloves into my pack. It’s not that I take good care of my things but bitterly cold day not so long ago someone zipped my hat! What did I Say about school? I take out the things I use each day .

With no personal space you bring your supplies to work.I use my personal day book – Letts, wonderful soft blue leather; my dollar store notebook- Happy Bunny says: “I’m not listening to you.” This is my own personal act of rebellion –I’m letting my freak fly, not that anyone notices but I know at least one manager that if 2+2 came together would comment.

I have my pen chrome, heavy – just what I like. It feels good in my hand, something pleasant to focus on in the idle seconds. I have an address book I use. There is so much to remember and so many passwords some I duplicate but between 10 and 20 depending on what I am doing and there are even a few phone numbers recorded there. Several I give out repeatedly every day but haven’t committed to learning. I might, but then they’d change. It’s my own personal memory aid and while not as pretty as my day book it has a velvet cover. . . and there are also a few tattered instruction sheets for settings I have done hundreds of times by now, but I still check most of the time– to reassure myself.

Glasses warmed I log onto the next system and into my digital time card. I have 10 minutes to get everything open and read my email and check to see what the latest changes are and then I will take my first call I’ve left my coat draped over the chair to my right. If someone wants to sit there they can , but since there are lots of seats I hope they will move on. It’s not that I am saving it but, at this time of the morning an additional 40 inches of personal space is my ardent hope; besides I had someone I barely know join me – and know I know he has intestinal issues and doesn’t share his candies – not that I wanted any. I have dental work to coddle but there was the constant distraction, the rifling for the right candy and the unwrapping and looking for someplace to stash the wrapper. OR I shudder to think, it could be Dandruff Guy who plops himself next to me. I want to drop sample bottle from the dollar store of Head & Shoulders on his desk – I want to but I never would .I get that it is unkind but seriously Dude, stop picking your balding pate will yah? Hence the coat defense and if a friend comes past well then they just move my coat, not that there is much time to talk as the day goes on but a kindred spirit is a nice anchor to my day .

I’d like to say from here it was smooth sailing straight to coffee break and onto lunch but I am in tears before coffee. Who cries at work?

Rolling down the road

2009-01-20T10:53:00.004-05:00

My sons' were around a lot over the holiday. We have a bathroom just off the kitchen and my eldest child was standing at the mirror as I passed.

"My grey is getting much more noticable" he said. I smiled.

Personally I have had grey hair since my early 20's and have been called 'grey haired' since my mid 30 so that his grey is becoming noticeable is no surprise. Grey hair on a man is a sign of capability- isn't it?

New year's day my youngest was standing in the back hall looking into the mirror
"No one but you would notice it Mom" he said "but look here- I have three grey hairs!"

"Well done son!" I said "Now you are a man, can we talk about you moving out? I grinned my best 'I love you grin' at him.

Later that afternoon the phone rang, and I answered. There was a sort of choking noise on the other end and then nothing.

Hello? I said and nothing and then a crackling sound.

"Who IS this?" I said gruffly "What do you want" assuming a pranskster or heavy breather on the other end.

"Grammy it's me" the Grand said in his sweet little boy voice. "I called to wish you and Grampy happy new year his manly voice began and then cracked.

"Oh Sweetie" I said "this old phone isn't working very well and I didn't hear you" I said attempting to save face and save him some embarassment.

And then yesterday the second kick in the pants for the new year, my darling eldest son popped in to say hello.

"Yeah so, isn't that great news about the young lad?"

"Might be " I say non-comittally

"Didn't he call you? he asked. He personally has been out of town for 10 days.

"Nope" I say with a shudder thinking of the last time the lad called.

" He had a job interview just after New years and they hired him!" my proud son announced "His first job"

I smile, shake my head and think to myself 'was it that very long ago I was excited for you when you came home and announced you had been hired for the very first time. I suppose it was, I suppose it was.

I don't remember growing older . . .

2008-11-04T12:55:00.004-05:00

I remember him from the Friday morning play group.

A tiny boy my mother would have called sturdy. He toddled about the musty church basement brought by his care giver and trailed by his adoring older sister Sarah, Sarah with the Sparkly Eyes as she was dubbed by my eldest- to differentiate her from all the lesser Sarah's of the preschool and primary galaxy.
Even then, his face was sprinkled with sun kisses. He laughed easily and made me smile.

A few years later I was his "morning mom" and he and my younger son, for a time, became fast friends. His silly sense of humor, flashes of brilliance and mischievousness made the mornings race past as we waited for kindergarten. The after school antics of the four kids made the arsenic hour a foreign concept.

Time passed and before and after school care was no longer a requirement, but for a time I was Tic Tac to his Beaver group. Then one day I stopped in at my favourite dry cleaners and I was personally greeted by a young man with side burns and the unmistakable sun kissed smile- my own children had matured but how was this possible?

A few chance encounters with his parents kept me aware of his, and his sister's, travels and then this weekend again I bumped into them. "Jamie is in London" they said so casually. "He decided to get his Law degree."

Well done Munchkin! I can't believe it has been that long since you ate apple wedges at my table. I am very proud of you, as your own parents must be.

Age Gap

2008-10-05T19:40:00.002-04:00

Is there anything so wonderful as sex on a Sunday afternoon?
OH.You.Don't.Know.
You have children

Mid Century

2008-08-08T15:06:00.003-04:00

Mid century , mid century R-I-G-H-T! The '50's

I have been chuckling over this phrase for a year or so. It just popped into my mind a few minutes ago and I had time to Google it - so this century and came up with 10,900,000 hits so obviously it's seen a lot of usage

Still it strikes me as funny. My kid bought a mid century home recently. He's leaning towards mid century decor as well. Hmmmm obviously if you admire it you weren't there or you weren't aware.

Doh, a Dear

2008-06-04T15:55:00.000-04:00

Marg was the first one to call me Dear. I mean the first in my adult life other than my Grandmother and Aunt. I was taken back by it but Marg lived with her elderly parents at the time in one of those role reversal situations that happens to single women of a certain age, AND she was and is my contemporary or at least close enough that it no longer matters.

Then there was a "shop girl" by that I mean a woman who has chosen or had chosen for her. a life in retail. Familiarity can be expected from someone who has just seen you in your skivies.And the "odd waitress" but some of her customers were "Honey" so Dear didn't seem so bad.

The other day it was one of the managers at work who resolved a problem for me as is his job. "there you go Dear" he said. Bite me - thought I as I smiled a benign smile.

America

2008-04-01T11:29:00.000-04:00

Some factoids:

One American turns 62 every seven seconds.

In Canada people 45-64 comprise 25% of the population and woman 55-59 years of age are 6.2%

Some times it just smacks you in the face-

2008-03-23T17:12:00.000-04:00

being old I mean.

Winter has been pretty long this year,long and nasty.
Work has been unusually brutal.

I was off work a little early one day recently. The afternoon sun was warm. The sky was clear blue, bright. My plans for a quick walk home had been thwarted by the sale signs across the road which had beckoned me back inside. I immediately found an unusually good bargain- a gift for a friend. I emerged quickly glad to be outside again and feeling munificent and happy.Ready to pepstep home with energy and vigour the weak spring sun warming my smile, the slight breeze wresting the song from my soul

The city bus had just pulled away from the stop. A generation of middle school students were taking leave of each other. They filled the air with greetings and leave takings; curses and threats. A body went into a snowbank;some ice was crushed under heel; snow balls and ice chunks flew through the air. I stood back and waited for them to pass.

"Hey Jerk- let the old lady pass " someone called

2008-03-15T12:38:00.000-04:00

It took awhile to recover from his question.

Did he see me as old? - well I knew the answer to that yes,yes he did.

Had I asked him he would have admitted to it,I have no doubt. But I knew, the signs were there.
The adolescent snarl I was occasionally the recipent of,
the dismissive attitude I encountered from time to time that I had previously considered as part of his problem of immaturity- not of my old age
and then the true key to my understanding; when the considerations of his immaturity were cast aside, he often prefaced our conversations about everyday life, experiences and personal philosophy with examples given to him by his grandparents. Initially I saw this as evidence of his close retaionship with his granparents but came to realize he saw me in the same light as his grandparents and was introducing a commonality of experience to our conversation. OUCH!