94 and a quarter

Grandma and Grandad on their anniversary

My grandmother would always say that she would live until she was 94 and a quarter.  When my mom casually mentioned that my uncle was considering throwing a party next year because Grandma would have been 94 and a quarter, it sucked the air out of the room and it took everything to not cry. Grandma was special. She was a funny little woman who loved her many grandchildren. She had a unique ability to connect with children and what seemed like unlimited patience. I adored her. Time stood still when you were around her, she listened, genuinely interested in every banal thing a young kid  has to say. 

My sister, brother and I were fortunate to know our grandparents as young people, they were vibrant, kind and wanted to be in our lives. We saw them often, not the occasional visit where we felt we had to dress up and behave. We could be who we were and Grandma and Granddad reveled in it. They retired to an old school house in Port Elgin and many a summer, Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent there. It was awesome. They were awesome. 

My children will have a similar experience. Ian and I had occasion to move 'home' when our two older children were very young. My mom graciously stepped in to help with the after school care, picking them up from school and then dropping them off at home for me. What began as an obligation, turned into a beautiful friendship that I know they all treasure. Now, it is rarely a quick hand-off at the door, often it is a trip to Grandma's to have some nuggets and see the variety of dogs she has (another story for another day) or it is a trip to Tim Hortons. I have watched this relationship unfold, knowing full well the magic that is being created through benign interactions almost daily. The kids will know their grandparents as people, grandparents who will teach them things, spend time with them. They are lucky. I know.









Bu Banket

Bronwyn with her bu banket.

I am curled up around her, as I try to coax her to bed.  It has been a long day; 11th annual pumpkin carving party, 25 pumpkins to carve, family and food packed in the house and one little girl way over tired. All around her are the things that make little girls so wonderful, a bedroom messy with stuffies, barbies, colouring books and the one thing that means the most to her in the entire world; bu banket. 

It was my first attempt at teaching myself crochet, it isn't really blue, rather a mishmash of wool that I bought when I was learning about tension, different wools and how to join them.  It's rather ugly, misshapen and permanently dirty.  She would not be without it.  We keep an eye out for it, knowing that to hit bedtime without it would mean tears and a protracted bedtime routine that would be painful for everyone. 

Here we are, the nightlight casts soft shadows on the butter walls, and she lies beside me with her bu banket threaded between her fingers.  She moves her fingers in and out of the crochet slowly soothing herself to sleep.  She never had a soother, I guess that this is what the bu banket is.

Her birthday is Monday, and I know that her babyhood is slipping away.  Tonight she needs me, not to read a book, not to help her into her pjs but to just lie there, quietly while she wraps her hands around her bu banket and drifts of to dreamland.

Authentic and Real

Cover of Colour, Moving and Still

I have a few favourite people in my world, lots of crushes (don't get me started about that Hawaii 5-0 dude..) When I fall in love with music, I usually am a fan for life, making a point to see the person in concert any time I can. I have seen Chantal Kreviazuk in concert a few times. She picks some wicked opening acts, I credit her with introducing me to Jorain and my beloved Jason Mraz. When I learned that Chantal was going to visit Ontario Shores, give a talk and play some music, I was so there. I love her music, she touches me, she has seen me through some serious dark days. She spoke about her connection to mental illness; a friend and family member suffering and how their suffering has shaped her life and music. It was touching and human, honest and real. Who amongst us has never been touched by mental illness, whether it be your own or someone you are close to? I suspect we all have.

It was fascinating to hear the reality behind a few of her songs. After she sang for us, she reviewed the song, replayed bits and its meaning.

For me, the death of my son nearly killed me. Therapy and a bit of drugs saved my life. But so did music. Chantal's music. Her album, Colour Moving and Still, helped me to find the sunlight and joy in life. She helped and will never know it. I must have listened to it so many times that if it was not a CD, but a record, surely the groves would have been worn out.

Her message was to remove the stigma of mental illness, blow the doors wide open and be open and honest about the suffering and mental health impacts on family friends and the individual suffering.  For Chantal, music is her outlet, her cathartic process.  I am sure she must realize that her often raw, honest lyrics offer the same cathartic process for her listeners who love her.

Doing Nothing

Long weekends terrify me. I have a zillion things to do, clean the house,wash my car, wash Ian's car, but the gardens to bed, spend time with the family; oh and then there is the looming 'holiday'dinner. What to do? It all depends on the weather. Thanksgiving weekends are a crap shoot, some times it is cold, damp and windy and then sometimes you are surprised you get the last kiss of summer. The weekend that just ended, was a full on, lushious tongue kiss of a long weekend. Something to be thankful for. Its memory will hold me though to the first dusting of snow.

This thanksgiving was a quiet one and we had obligations only demanded of us by us. My awesome writer husband went to a writers circle and came home energized and excited about his craft. He is a far better writer than I will ever even aspire to be. I know I will someday soon refer to Ian as my author, journalist, writer husband. Give it a year. You will see.

With Ian out at his event, the kids and I went with my mom to Watsons for annual apple picking. What fun. Bronwyn was even well behaved. The kids get to be in the sun, the fields and there wasnt a clock in sight. It was magical.

So was the par for the course all weekend long. We did a whole bunch of nothing, spending time washing the cars, a tiny bit of cleaning the house, some gardening but mostly the easy, long weekend kind of doing nothing that makes memories layered in the last bits of sun, nowhere special to go and lots of tme to hang out together doing nothing. It was magical.

They will be okay

Our youngest child has started school. It surely was just a moment ago that we found out she was on her way. Time does have a way of slipping away. Bronwyn seems to me so young, so tiny and still a baby. Who would help her with her lunch bag, who would explain everything to her, who would protect her?

These questions and the fears that lie within them were quelled when Ian told me what happened during the morning drop off. Our school has a fenced in area for the kindergarten children. It is affectionately known as the kindergarten cage. Ian dropped her off - no tears for either one - and asked Tavish to stay with her until the bell. Tavish did without any resistance. Bronwyn on one side of the fence, inside the cage with her new teacher and new friends and Tavish on the outside. Bronwyn carefully reached for Tav, putting two fingers through the fence toward her brother, who very slowly reached his own two fingers to grasp hers. They said nothing, just waited for the bell.

I know they will be okay.

The answer is not paper or plastic, it is FABRIC.

I just read Ian's blog about plastic, cluttering up our oceans, killing fish, leaving a disgusting legacy for an awful long time.  School starts tomorrow - yippee!!- and the school has asked for litterless lunches.  That is such a challenge.  Everything is prepackaged, there are only plastic sandwich baggies, what is a busy mom to do?  I googled it.  This is what I found.  You can make little fabric baggies for a song.  (If songs were currency, it would be anything by Jason Mraz, but I digress)  I found a quick instruction for bags that will hold anything dry - goldfish, cookies, pretzels - get me? for a few hours until lunch.  Think about it.  The food is kept in a lunch bag lined in fabric and only needs to be kept out of harms way for about 2 and half hours until lunch.  Easy peasy.  I admit to being addicted to sewing.  This little bags took no time to create and I was able to make about 25 (one for each day of the week, for three kids plus a few extras) in a few hours and for nothing but the cost of velcro and my time.  I surveyed my stash of fabric and found a few scraps kicking around that would work for both boys and girls.  I made them up and they are ready to go for tomorrow.  I know that it may not fix the ocean's plastic issue but I guess that each creative step to eliminate/reduce our plastic usage is one in the right direction.

My camera died - I will buy one this week and post a few photos of the bags but until then, here are some cool sites that have interesting green packaging ideas for lunches.  Give it a try!

 http://sewing.craftgossip.com/tutorial-sew-a-reusable-sandwich-bag/2009/06/17/
http://www.wrap-n-mat.com/
 http://www.everythingmom.com/organic-reviews/reusable-sandwich-bags-reusable-snack-bags.html

Jason Mraz - Singing with the crowd @ Osheaga Montreal 2009

Coming Down

It wasn't until I went away that I fully understood how much I needed a break.  Now, I can only hope to maintain this feeling and take a bunch of mini vacationts to last me to next year.  We started planning next year already.  We are going back to Port Elgin. 

I am pretty stoked for the fall.  At work, we have a large job fair planned for second career grads.  This means a lot of work but awesome partners like the Literacy Network.

I also have tickets to see the Dali Lama.  Dream come true, strike that off the bucket list.

Oh yeah, and that paper on Manufacturing Diaspora that a I hope to present at a conference soon.  But that can wait until next week to finish it off....

VACAY

We finally have taken a vacation.  We are in Port Elgin, a place I am very found of, my grand parents owned a converted school house just outside the town and every summer and family holiday was spent here.  It has always been a goal of mine to take my family here.  It has the most beautiful sandy beaches.  We spent Wednesday just maxing and relaxing at the beach.  Some one forgot to put sun screen on (me) and has been wearing a baseball cap for the past day or so.  Nice.

I should try to post a link so you can see for yourself how lovely this place is.  I think it is unanimous, we will be back next year.http://www.saugeenshores.ca/