Thursday, June 4, 2015

Happy June!

Thirteen Shreds of Thought:

1) Listening to classical music is especially delightful when driving across Kansas, Oklahoma and Colorado.

2) The most delicious water is the water one drinks upon coming inside to a cool house, after being outside and sweating profusely.

3) Driving anywhere with a toddler who feels crummy and is throwing up SUCKS. Especially if the destination is a minimum of 8 hours and 45 minutes away.

4) Cats that are confident in life have much more fun outdoors than insecure and awkward kitties do.

5) A home remedy for a thirst quenching and electrolyte balanced solution is: 1 Quart (approximately 4 cups water) warmed, with 2 Tablespoons organic vegan sugar and 1/4 Teaspoon Sea Salt stirred until dissolved, then chilled.  Adding a shot of organic apple, pineapple or cranberry juice is a good idea if you want your kiddo to actually drink it.

6) Listening to Colin Firth read a book on tape is wonderful.

7) There is never enough time in the day to get everything done, so choose wisely.

8) Lily Tomlin is STILL fabulous.

9) Summer is my BAKING PIE SEASON!

10) One large window fan, is NOT equivalent to Air Conditioning on the top floor of any house.

11) If you're having a crappy day, sneak off somewhere private (to the bathroom if you have too) and read a few chapters of a good book. It'll turn you around for the better.

12) Roasted vegan, corn free and gluten free marshmallows are amazingly good.

13) It's never too early to begin a self-imposed summer reading list, project, goal, or vacation.

Friday, May 8, 2015

Let it RAIN!


Let it rain, for I don't mind, the grey sky, cloudy, cooling time.

   Down the drops shall fall and seep, the thirsty ground drinks happy weep.

      Cary Grant is on my mind; last night's movie plays rewind.
       
         Snuggled up, a cup of tea, a book and blanket, good for me.

            Friday's here, the sweetest day, the most relaxing one for play.

               The light drifts in, as through a fog, which pads through house like foot of dog.

                  Soon shall summer fires alight, to set a warm glow in the night.

               Rain is dewy, windy wise, eat things green and walk outside.

            Taste the air, it has the bite that summer days with salt, delight.

         Ocean blusters in my thoughts, blowing round my body, fraught.
       
      Dance the dance of roots and trees, digging deep the earth, and bees.

Sing for every blinking thing that's waking up, it's HERE.  The SPRING!

Monday, April 6, 2015

Pride and Prejudice... and so begins the list of favourite things.



"Pride and Prejudice," by Jane Austen is one of my favourite novels. It's full of passion, love, intrigue and misunderstandings.

Most of the time, I think that movies which are based upon loved literary works should be counted wholly as their own; separate from the beloved writings that perhaps inspired them. This is because often times, the films' plot is so very loosely based on the book that it's difficult to see the true connection anyway.

I will say this: of all the film adaptations of this book by Austen, Colin Firth shall forever remain the embodiment of Mr. Darcy in my mind. He is one of my absolutely favourite actors.

His presence is so strong, and his nuances so clever, layered and delicate. He is above all else, the most honest actor I've seen. I fall in love with every performance I see him in, and I could watch him forever because he shows his vulnerability so well in his roles. That is what makes a good actor; to make the scene all about the other person, and in doing so, to reveal the heart of your role.

( I hope some day I can meet Mr. Colin Firth. I'd love to shake his hand, look him straight in those dark and dazzling eyes of his, and say, "Goddamn you're brilliant." Then I'd smile and buy him a book and a pint, and send him home with homemade cookies for his incredible family.)


What I didn't know when I first read "Pride and Prejudice," was how amazingly relevant its representation of misunderstandings and miscommunications in love would be to my life.

Upon my first reading of it when I was 13 years old, I fell in love with the language and the fact that despite the ridiculous societal circumstances, the spread of class, wealth, reputation and limitations of communication between the sexes, the couples actually managed to figure things out and get together.

My thirteen year old brain felt the anxiety of Mr. Darcy and Ms. Bennet in the novel; the thin line between love and hate spread so because of lies, deception and the fact that no one would speak plainly in the moment!

When the two have weathered more than one painfully awkward situation, he finally professes to her that,
     ``In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.''

I remember my heart beating quickly at that moment, and I also recall childishly hoping secretly in the back of my mind, that the fellow I had a crush on would someday soon, profess as such to me.

If I am honest with myself, I cannot think of a single instance or relationship from my first true love (at 16) up to my last (and best) with my now husband, that didn't involve the anxiety, agony and relief that souls endure before one knows if one's feelings are returned.

I would also be hard-pressed to not count the one or many little miscommunications within each relationship that felt as torturous as waiting to know if you've been left for something better.

It took me years to learn how to put myself first in a relationship; I was forever trying to spare the other person's feelings, at any or greatest cost to my own. I was a martyr for love.

I was determined not to tell the truth about my hurt or pain; it was something I had to deal with on my own, it wouldn't do to dump it onto the other person -- never mind that it was what I truly wanted, or how I really felt. That didn't matter and it likely wouldn't change anything anyway.
How WRONG I was to believe that!

Thinking back on my experiences, I wonder at how ridiculous I was to think I was sparing the fellow's feelings, when in fact, not communicating either forced them to think that I didn't care, or gave them leave to do what they wanted with my blessing (when really, I was NOT okay with it).

I was not exactly dishonest, but I was secretly unforthcoming.

It's impossible to have a successful relationship if your partner has to pull teeth to get you to show your vulnerability. Being in love is to BE VULNERABLE!

This is something that I was not comfortable with; though I am a positive person in most respects of my life, in romantic relationships, I had an extremely logical, no-nonsense point of view, that greatly conflicted with my wildly beating and sleeve inhabiting heart.

Throughout my relationships and into my twenties, I suffered much heartbreak and hopelessness, because you see, part of me didn't believe I was lovable.

What makes this so silly, is that I know that I am a warm, thoughtful and compassionate individual. I know deep down, that I have much to offer, and that I try to be generous of spirit and heart.
The truth was though, I had a case of low self esteem of the soul.

I desperately wanted to believe compliments when I was given them, but I really thought that I didn't deserve them, so they must be lies. I remembered every criticism, whether just and constructive, or invalid and harsh. I had the ridiculous idea that I was being humble, when really I was just self-flaggelating.

I measured myself against the impossibility of perfection; if only I had done everything right, been as good as I know I can be, then my partner's love wouldn't have faltered. If I had loved the person enough, then why didn't it work? The hyper responsibility I was enacting was absolutely and irrevocably the thing that made me miserable with myself.

I deem it to be true that love NEVER falters. In reality, once you love someone, you never truly stop loving them --- oh circumstances may change, you become friends and love them all the more that way, or in extreme cases the love can coincide with other feelings, even hate, but you never really stop you see, because love never ends.

The mistakes I made with my previous romantic involvements were basically this: You, as a person, can never, ever hold responsibility for the feelings or actions of others. The absolute only thing you can control are your actions and NOT your feelings. 

A person feels what they feel, end of story. 
Simpering, and denying, or pretending not to feel, or being dramatically and condescendingly shouted to that "one shouldn't feel that way," is utter bullshit.

Be frank with the people you love. Don't withhold smiles or affections or punish them because you think it makes the times you are demonstrably loving more special. I've never done this, but I've experienced it on the receiving end first hand, and it's absolutely horrid and confusing. Don't be a prat: be honest. If your partner enjoys your smile, then smile when you feel it and make them happy!

Always fight for what you want, and I don't mean violence -- I mean SHOW UP. Hopefully you never date someone who believes in the idea of horrid little "tests," to make sure you care. Hopefully you're with someone who's honest and doesn't practice the bullshit of little dating or relationship games. If you feel it, do it! Shout "I love you," and run after them, but don't wallow in your own pain that "well, they don't want me," who cares, at least if you show up, you'll find out for real instead of muttering on 'what ifs,' in your head for years to come because you didn't try.

When my husband and I were first dating and had been together around 9 months, we had a simple miscommunication.
He was worried that I didn't want the same things as he did; that I had some sort of agenda and timeframe for us. As a result of his anxiety, I felt him withdraw emotionally. Instead of asking me plainly about my plans or designs for our relationship, he became distant -- I felt the change, and as I began to ask him about it, my pride was injured. It seemed as though he'd already decided that we shouldn't be together because we didn't have the same ultimate goals, even though we hadn't discussed the details.

 I then decided then to end it, before he could.

He left that morning, saying he'd call me on my birthday. I told him not to bother. I was cold and short with him. Inside, I was deeply hurt. I thought, well, it's over. He's decided and it's done-- not realizing that I was the one who broke things off to save him the trouble. I was the one who wouldn't let him talk further and elaborate on his fears so that they could be alleviated!

The rest of that day I tried to be "okay," with things, but I knew that I was heartbroken... again. 

Yet again, I'd messed up another perfectly fine relationship. I spent time with my girlfriends, but I simply couldn't be cheered. I had no appetite at all. I couldn't sleep. The old familiar hole in my heart that had torn and bruised each time it was broken with the ending of a relationship was a gaping blackness. 

Then, it hit me.

I am NOT going to go through this again. This is ridiculous. I didn't even tell him that what he thought I was thinking was entirely untrue! I was hurt by his jumping to a conclusion that he hadn't even leapt to yet! He was just worried about it-- he hadn't wanted to end things necessarily  -- he wasn't looking for an easy out, he was trying to COMMUNICATE with me and I didn't allow it! My PRIDE was in the way. I threw him out so I didn't have to let him in.

Having decided that I would NOT again be passive in the end of a relationship, I called him and asked him if I could see him the next day so that we could talk. He said yes, that would be fine.

I then sat down and wrote a three page letter about what I was feeling, what I had thought, how things had been misconstrued, that I didn't have any "designs," or "silly, stupid, female plots," and that I was being honest from the start about what I wanted eventually, with no timeline whatsoever. Things would work out, or not, but I'd be damned if they were going to end because of a stunningly dumb miscommunication. Because of no good reason at all!

In short, I showed up. 

I was VULNERABLE! When I waited for him to show up on his bicycle so we could talk, I didn't even care if we were getting back together or not, I just desired him to know how I felt. This time I was going to be true to myself. I was going to have my say, not quietly accept my circumstances and give up my power and my right to express my feelings because they weren't worth sharing.

It was the most freeing thing I've ever done. Finally I had stopped being responsible for other people's happiness, I had let it be okay for someone to take my feelings into account before making their decision instead of pretending that my feelings didn't matter and wouldn't affect the outcome.

He read my letter. He admitted that his fears, while not wholly unfounded, were slightly silly and entirely unnecessary because I don't play games. We talked for an hour and then we laughed and called each other on everything we could think of to clear the air and make sure we were on the same page.

He promised that he would simply talk to me, ask me, the next time he felt anxious. I promised to show up and answer and to do likewise for him.

Approximately a year later we were engaged, and a year after that (three years dating total) we got married.

I love my partner more than anything; our relationship has been one of the most delightful, honest, open and vulnerable things I've ever been through. I'll never stop showing up, baring my soul and telling my truth, because painful as it is at times, it's been the best thing I could have hoped for.


It's made our incredibly lovely life possible, and I wouldn't have things any other way.




Friday, April 3, 2015

Some days you just need some Julie Andrews... or if you've insomnia, a long, boring task...

My son and I recently watched "The Sound of Music," in fact, we've been watching parts of it every few days, beginning two weeks ago... there's nothing like a 1 year old giggling in delight over children playing tricks on adults.

Julie Andrews is such an amazing individual. I could listen to and watch her perform all day and never be bored.  Lately, the list making side of me has been going crazy. Dame Andrews has inspired me to create a list of my favourite things, which I'm sure I'll get around to eventually.

I am most definitely going to get back to writing in general, though we're in the beginning of a demolition in the basement of our house and dealing with dust and the crazy schedules of four adults plus one toddler means making or finding time is a challenge.

Since I find I am unable to sleep this evening (alas, not an uncommon occurrence) I present below, the dichotomy questionnaire I am currently amusing myself with.

Oh the Duality of it all...

1. Sweet or Salty? 
I shall always desire salt. Even on my dessert. 

2. Rain or Shine? 
Rain storms are my favourite. 

3. Cookies with Chocolate chips or Raisins in?
Chocolate, deep, dark and sweet. Though my partner has a fondness for oatmeal raisin cookies... Perhaps we should try them with chocolate covered raisins. Hmmmm...

4. Fiction, or Non-Fiction?
While truth is often stranger than fiction, I choose fiction over non-fiction most of the time.

5. Mountains or Ocean?
Ocean. I deeply long for it and miss it quite often.

6. Day or Night?
Night, unless it's a stormy summer day with heat lightening... or a cool, breezy day with a deep blue sky, not too bright sun and big fluffy white clouds ... or a lovely gray snowy day, or an overcast day with spring rain when the earth smell is rising... or high autumn when everything's crisp and spicy and colourful and brisk....

7. Sunrise or Sunset?
Both.

8. Coke or Pepsi?
Coca-cola, or... Dr. Pepper. The Mexican versions without HFCS of course.

9. Plane or Train?
Train. You may move around whenever you want to, the bathrooms are larger and there is a dining car. 

10. Can people change?
Yes, anything's possible. Note that I didn't state whether it's particularly likely or not...

11. Bleached sugar or Natural sugar?
Natural. I dislike fooling with my food.

12. Organic or Conventional?
Organic. Remember when organic WAS the conventional way of growing food?

13. Lead or Follow?
Both. Though I must admit, on the dance floor is the ONLY place for a man to be completely in charge of me.

14. Beer or Wine?
Both, but only on rare occasion, in moderation, and never together for me.

15. Book or Movie?
Both, but I must say, I usually prefer the book. In rare cases, the movie tells the story better.

16. Flats or Heels?
Heels that a body can dance in. Flats if for some reason my converse sneakers would look amiss.

17. Love or Lust?
Love, with traces of lust woven throughout.

18. Coffee or Tea?
Both. Preferably with a good book and perhaps in the same day, but not at the same time.

19. Hot or Cold?
Warmth enough.

20. Work or Play?
Playful work.

21. Socks or Barefeet?
Barefeet.

22. Cheap, Fast or Good?
Pick Two.

23. Ketchup or Mustard?
Both, mixed.

24. Noon or Midnight?
Midnight.

25. Dragons or Unicorns?
Dragons. Unicorns are okay too, though.

26. Film or Digital?
Film.

27. Black and White or Colour Movies?
Both, but Black and White films will always feel more special to me. 

28. Chocolate or Vanilla?
A Twist. Or, perhaps a maple creamee.

29. Gloves or Mittens?
Convertible mittens. 

30. Glass or Plastic?
Glass.

31. Yodeling or Opera?
Opera. Though I've not heard much yodeling.

32. Laptop or Tablet?
Laptop.

33. Pencil or Pen?
Pencil, though I love the old-school blue, red and green Bic pens. I also love a well-made fountain pen.

34. Walnuts or Pecans?
Pecans. Walnuts are nice at Christmas.

35. Sunflower Seeds or Pine Nuts?
Sunflower seeds. I dislike pine nuts.

36. Big Dogs, or Little Dogs?
Big Dogs. Don't get me wrong, some little dogs are lovely and sweet. I don't dislike little dogs, but if I had to choose, big.

37. Blue or Black ink?
Blue. I don't know why, but blue.

38. Even or Odd?
Odd.

39. Silver or Gold?
Silver. Gold's okay at Christmas time though... I dunno' why.

40. Horse or Pony?
Draft horse. Ponies are cute and they can get away with murder if you're not careful...

41. Bees or Wasps?
Bees.

42. Swimming Pool or the Sea?
The Sea.

43. Cotton or Polyester?
Cotton.

44. Porch Swing or Swingset?
Porch Swing.

45. Cream or Sugar?
Cream. By cream I mean, a vegan non-dairy, unsweetened substitute for cream.

46. Beeswax candles or Soy candles?
Beeswax all the way. Regular, no scent added beeswax too, unless it's real Bayberry for the Holidays.

47. Air Fresheners or Essential Oil Diffusers?
Essential Oil Diffusers, though not often and NEVER the other option.

48. Lima Beans or Tomatoes?
Tomatoes. I've never had a lima bean that didn't taste a bit (or a lot) of chalk.

49. Ice cream with chunks of fruit or nuts?
Nuts. If there's fruit in my dessert, I prefer it smooth and silky, not chunky. Unless of course, the dessert is simply fruit.

50. Blue eye-shadow, or winged eyeliner?
Winged eyeliner.

51. Pasty or Tan?
Pasty for me, because tanning is impossible for my skin.

52. Olive Oil or Canola?
Olive Oil. Canola oil isn't real food and it's horrid.

53. Pancakes or Waffles?
Yes. Preferably with maple syrup, sliced bananas and mini chocolate chips.

54. Whipped Cream or Cool Whip?
Coconut cream whipped (vegan).

55. Hot Fudge or Chocolate Syrup?
Hot Fudge.

56. Smooth or Chunky Peanut Butter?
Both.

57. Manual Drive or Automatic Drive?
Stick shift all the way.

58. Red Car or Black Car?
Black.

59. Top Bunk or Bottom Bunk?
Bottom.

60. Homemade or Store Bought?
Homemade.

61. Forgive and Forget or Hold a Grudge?
Forgive and Forget but LEARN.

62. Now or Later?
Yes. 

63. Pizza or Calzone?
Both.

64. Older Homes: Restore Completely or Remodel Entirely?
Restore.

65. Fix it or Throw it Out?
Usually fix it, but somethings can be beyond repair.

66. Floor Lamps or Ceiling Fans?
Floor Lamps.

67. Broccoli stems or tops?
Tops.

68. Fruit Salad or Green Salad?
Greens.

69. The End or The Beginning?
The End of the Beginning or the Beginning of the End.








Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Éirinn go Brách

Happy St. Patty's Day...

Though I have red hair, my folks are of more Scottish descent than Irish.

Doesn't matter today though,  when everyone wears green and well, we redheads look great in Kelly Green... anyway... as my mum would say, "In the end, we're all Celts," or something to that effect.

Have some green beer, or a car bomb, or whatever if you're of age to do so and wear green (originally blue was the color, but who's keeping track) if you don't want to get pinched.

In other news, the beloved Sir Terry Pratchett passed away March 12, 2015.

He was one of my absolutely favourite authors. Here is his final sentiment, typed by his daughter:



Fellow author and friend Neil Gaiman was among those paying tribute to Sir Terry, writing on his website: "There was nobody like him. I was fortunate to have written a book with him, when we were younger, which taught me so much."
Gaiman added: "I will miss you, Terry, so much."
 
Niel Gaiman is another of my favourite authors... both of these excerpts were taken from the BBC News site.



Wednesday, March 11, 2015

A List of Lovelies.

A few things that I take gentle pleasure in at the moment:

The deep green of fresh dino kale and its grassy smell.

The orange sunrise filtering through the window shutters and filling the room with liquid gold.

 The sound of good, dark chocolate breaking into pieces and its aroma as it melts.

The delightful weight of a sautée pan handle on the palm and the glint of silver as it lands on the stove.

The sound of my son laughing as he splashes water in his bath.

The way my family drinks in the sight of my son and his little aura.

The feel of a freshly laundered cotton t-shirt after a shower.

The cool feeling of evening breezes on the skin and the fresh smell of night.

The rich, smooth taste of hot coffee with warmed foamy almond milk.

The smell of my partner's skin just after he's shaved.

The fresh green and nutty aroma of brussels' sprouts roasting in the oven.

The friendly feel of the well-worn pages of a book I've read a hundred times.

The promise of green shoots signaling spring through the melted puddles of snow.

The hint of summer in the lengthening days and glowing mornings.

The dream of a new kitchen and repaired space of home despite the plaster dust swimming around our floors.

The warmth of my husband's family gathering this weekend to share a meal and catch up.

The knowledge that though this great experiment of ours is far from easy, the work it takes is worth doing and I'm becoming a better person for it.


Monday, March 2, 2015

Good Bye February

Snow keeps falling. Normally dry as fluffy, dancing, swirling dust. Lately, wet as a thick floating blanket. 

Heavy, slippery soft and cold, cold, cold. Winter is going out with a flourish. Spring has not sprung.

At home, the great experiment continues. Not enough time for oneself. Not enough time to write or read.

Learning to say "no," again as well as to sign. Seeing the whispers of exhaustion floating off of every body within.

Difficulties with communication all around and loud, loud, loud expressions followed by silent, and harsher feelings.

Bright, aching and startling sun flashes through the windows at times. The grey, calm, deep and cloudy moments follow. 

My favorites, are the gray days. The times with sparks of silence, cups of hot beverage. Snow silently slipping through the clouds from the sky.

Colds and sneezes have come and gone. Haggard faces laugh and merriment entails loving words. Back and forth ticks the clock counting the seconds of the minutes of the hours of the days into nights and weeks and months.

Not yet years, but soon enough. How to measure the changes of the internal seasons? How to weather the outside family's struggles and need for support? How to express our love to those that need it beyond ourselves while striving to maintain the rocking balance of peace and working through at home?

There could be enough time in the day if those silent would speak to those willing to listen. There could be love enough in the air if those closed would open to it. There could be compassion and patience for all if those rigid in their expectations could bend a  bit, but for now, we make do and move along.

Change, change and more change is on the horizon that floats out in the distance; hovering as the pinks, reds, golds and blues of sunset mingle with the purples, oranges and greens of sunrise. 

A wise person once said, 'Everything in moderation,' but what about the days when drowning feels inevitably to be the only option?

Happiness streaked and marbled through with frustration and tension.  Sadness touched lightly with warmth and hope and desperate will to work through things.

Sacrifices of the soul made up in new time that flows from the choices of necessity. Gibberish that drips from the lips of babes will soon make sense when we learn the ancient art of translation.

Share the burden, spread out the tension and it becomes thin and more pliable, or breaks and disintegrates all together. Work with each other's strengths; remember that this too shall pass and that the demolition of the easiest parts have already begun. Soon, new and better spaces and places will be revealed if we can simply, hold, hold, hold - on.

What are we missing? Fond thoughts of friends and relatives seep through the cracks and by acknowledging them, they are satiated and spread back through the ether with energy signatures. Say it aloud and it gains power, so make sure you speak what needs to be said for the situation.

Destiny is afoot? Perhaps. Or perchance we make our own fate our own future's stars are designed  and hung with our shining hands alone. Life right now, is at it's most alive. Spinning in the melee, the calm at the center of the storm is this delightfully and heartbreaking mess that we call existence.