Anything Is Possible..With a Little Help From Your Friends...

That this is an amazingly, hauntingly beautiful duet is without question.  They each have a gift that they are sharing together and with a very wide audience in this clip.  But that isn't what stands out for me. 

I leaked a few tears as I watched this.  Their voices touched something very deep inside me and moved me in ways that only music can.  The interviews with these young people touched me deeply and struck chords I had thought long silenced.

This young man lacks confidence for very obvious reasons (which he acknowledges himself) and for reasons that are less visible but of no less importance.  This young woman has confidence that we can see, but I sense underneath that that her confidence in her own vocal abilities is less than she would let you believe.

Charlotte is Jonathan's champion.  She stands up for him when others taunt or are cruel to him verbally.  She has shown Jonathan that there are good people in the world who are willing to look beyond the superficial to see who is behind the mask. 

Jonathan is Charlotte's champion.  When Simon tells Jonathan that he would do better in the competition without Charlotte "holding him back" (paraphrase), Jonathan refuses because they have entered the competition as a duet and he will only move forward with Charlotte. 

They give one another the confidence that they each need.  She gives him confidence to be himself and to let himself shine.  It is certainly possible that Jonathan would not have entered the competition as a solo act even though he certainly could have.  He gives her the confidence to sing alongside him.  It is his gift to her to put herself in the spotlight.  Without Jonathan beside her it is possible that Charlotte would not have entered the competition and if she did that she might not have advanced.

What brought these two together?  A very wise music teacher.  Charlotte says in the interview that it was their music teacher who thought they would complement one another.  The teacher obviously has a keen eye as well as a keen ear.

What I expect will happen with these two is that their confidence in themselves will grow and that what brought them together will be the  making of them both.

The power of friendship and those who believe in us can lift us to heights we might never otherwise have dreamed possible.

And yes, he reminds me very much of Andrea Bocelli.  A beautiful, evocative voice.  Both of them.

Softer or More in Focus....

Some days are a little softer than others....

Some days are a little brighter, a little more in focus...

Whichever one is yours today...enjoy it to the fullest...

Bathroom Before The Facelift...

Not the best day to take photographs...dismal, dull, grey and lack of any kind of good lighting for photography.  Still, this will give an idea of why this room, at 50 years of age this year, needs to have it's face lifted...actually it will be torn right off and recreated.

I don't much care for the shape of the room, a long rectangle, but we'll work with what we've got because we are not at the stage in our family life where we can tear out a bedroom to create a lavish bathroom.  Children come home from school and do need a place to lay their weary heads.  A sleeping bag and the couch hardly seems hospitable.  Mind you, come the time they are in their 30s and want to come home for longer than a quick visit, that may be all they get! 

So this is the before....and I very much look forward to the after!

Everything is going in this room, even the window.  We no longer have a need for two sinks, but I will say, this counter top was brilliant when the boys were babies and we needed space after the bath.

Over the years we have made changes...I painted out the vanity which was an ugly brown.  We replaced the sinks and the toilet -- one sink had cracked and the toilet was just "old".  The fixtures were that sand/pink/brown.  Ugh.  The wall originally had an ugly black and yellow wallpaper on it.  We changed it to a nicer pattern and colour but wallpaper in a bathroom that has no vent is a disaster.  And then we noticed the cracks appearing in the walls so in the 90s I used the "go to" treatment of sponge work on the walls to try and mask the imperfections.  And now these many years later there is nothing more to do with these walls other than to tear them down and build new ones.   The floor was an ugly pattern of congoleum which curled at the edges and then became impossible to clean.  My husband put down these tiles but as he neglected to replace the quarter round, everything shifted.  Not his fault.  As he tells me often over all these years we have been married, "I'm an accountant, not a handy man".  This is true.

All those tiles that are off the wall?  Some began to heave and fall themselves.  The others had a little help.  From yours truly.  It was fun, what can I say?

The window is also being replaced.  The wood is rotting and impossible to keep clean and if we're doing the whole room there is no chance I'm leaving that ratty old thing in there.  Be gone!

This monstrosity has always frustrated me beyond belief.  There is ONE electrical outlet in this room and it's way up there by that small, lonely light fixture.  So when I need to plug in my hair dryer, I have to stand on my tip toes and strain my little arms just to hit the spot and then heave to get the plug in the socket.  Do not even ask me how many years I've put up with THAT.  Too many is the only one that suffices.  The mirror?  The medicine cabinet?  There are no words.

This is the colour of the bathtub and the other fixtures that were in the room.  The mess?  That happened years ago and we had fixed it, or thought we had and then it just all started up again.  There was a leak behind the wall and the plumber did fix it but too much of the damage had already been done.  That's my handiwork there as I tried to replace the tiles that had fallen off.  And it worked for quite a long time...and I can't even say that I'm an accountant not a handy man because I dislike anything to do with math and numbers! 

The ugly countertop that has to go!

The ugly tile that surrounds the entire bath/shower and the other wall in the room (the only wall it is not on is the one that the shower/tub is on), and evidence that these ones are beginning to give up the ghost as well.

The tile continues on the ceiling which, again, for me is a nightmare to clean.  I have to stand on the edge of the tub and squirt cleaner UP to reach it and then jump down and back so that I don't get splashed.  I then use the shower head to clean it off.  I've rigged up old broom handles and old bristle brushes to do the job and they require lots of muscle.  Once we knew this was being "done", I haven't bothered getting up there...and don't mind in the least!  Not sure what the answer will be for this but the contractor will come up with something.  I have faith!

I'm looking forward to seeing my design ideas go from my imagination to a room that is functional, relaxing and easy to clean!

All Is Well in This World...

image found on google

Sometimes, when you play your cards right, which means you play them honestly, fairly, calmly and maturely, things work out.  Just ask my 20 year old.  He had his meeting with the teacher yesterday afternoon to the satisfaction of both.  He presented himself and his argument clearly and calmly.  She listened and was impressed with his honesty and his self assurance.  In their discussion it became clear that one item he was to complete and present had not been done as he had missed that class.  Because of his honesty and demeanour, the teacher told  him to take the chart home, complete it and she would improve his mark.  Lesson learned.  For both.

As for me, I'm heaving a sigh of relief and a sigh of satisfaction.  The satisfaction?  On a job well done.  By me and by my husband and even by his older brother.  Living the life you believe in, living by your code of conduct teaches more than mere words.  Watching your adult children thrive in the world brings a sense of peace and contentment.

And after all that "building", today I am all about "destroying".  Oh yes, it's time to get in that bathroom and begin the tear down.  Meeting with the contractor later this afternoon to discuss exactly what and where.  He and his partner begin their work on Monday.  Two weeks with no shower, no sink and toilet upstairs and a small powder room in the basement.  It's going to be "delightful".  Not!!  But oh just thinking about how fresh that new bathroom is going to be fills me with bliss!

Ticking Away on Tuesday...

"The difference between school and life? In school, you're taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you're given a test that teaches you a lesson."

- Tom Bodett

 

* further to yesterday's conversation about false accusations, the meeting with the teacher does not take place until this afternoon, so nothing to report yet.  I did learn though, that there are about 6 students who have been accused of this so this speaks more to an issue with the teacher and her teaching/communication than it does with her students.

 

*the tea in the photograph was sampled on Saturday at the Soul in Bloom retreat.  I purchased the Hindu Holiday, a delightful caffeine free chai blend, and savoured it yesterday in my new mug from T.J. Maxx/Home Goods.  The brightly painted colours seem to match the flavour of the tea. 

 

*whatever you are doing today, make sure to make the time to savour something. 

 

The Innocent and Wrongful Accusations...

This is the face of innocence.  And I know this because I am his mother.  I am a realistic mother who acknowledges that her children are not perfect (and would never want them to be).  I recognize that they have told the odd lie for a variety of reasons that at the time seemed to be the answer or the solution to whatever had transpired.  Aside from this, I know the character of  my children and that they are very well versed in the concept of "right and wrong" and that certain aspects of life show a disregard towards how to live and that certain actions lack respect, and I don't just mean respect of others and property, I mean that it includes respect of self.

At some time or another in our lives we have all been unfairly or wrongly accused of some action and it hurts deeply.  Proving your innocence and standing up for your honour is one of the hardest things to do.  And we have a hard time forgetting those false accusations and the person who made them.  I can go back as far as grade 2 and recall a time I was wrongly accused of speaking in line while waiting to go in to school.  It was the girl in front of me but she didn't correct the teacher and I was made to stand out of line and go in alone and be "spoken to" by the teacher.  I was mortified.  I was the shy girl, the one who wouldn't say "boo" and now here I was the spectacle.  It all came "right" in the end as my classroom teacher defended  me to the other teacher.  But to this day Mrs. Young rates highly on my "dislike" list.  And the fact that THIS MANY years later I can still recall that moment vividly is a story in itself.  And it's time I let it go, really, I've carried it far too long!!

I'm so very tired today.  Not just because of a busy weekend but because my son, this one up here, who is now 15 years older than when this photograph was taken, has been accused of copying someone else's work and has a meeting with the teacher at his college at some point today.  He is angry and upset.  I would be as well.  He told me about this during a phone conversation on Friday night.  He is an excellent student, making grades that are well above the 80% mark in this class.  He has never  had an issue with this teacher, and now at the end of the year she is making this accusation, which is false.  I reminded him to stand up for himself and to begin the meeting by letting this woman know how offended he is by her accusation.  He is no longer a "child",  he is an adult.  My input was given, probably around the time this photograph was taken and the message has continued to be repeated, not just in words, but in actions.

I don't know what the outcome of this meeting will be.  I know that he is angry enough that he would quit the programme because of this, but that was said in the heat of the moment.  Hopefully cooler heads will prevail today and he will make this woman understand, with work he has done that can pinpoint how and why he would not have needed to "cheat".  Because that is what she is accusing him of.  Cheating.  Lying.  Theft.  Ugly words to be accused of when you are innocent.

What I do wonder is why this woman feels so confident that she could make this accusation.  I am reminded that just because she is a teacher does not mean that she is perfect either.  And she is capable of making mistakes.  I'm also reminded that what kind of day we are having can make us lay blame or hurt in other places because it makes us feel better.  I don't care for people who feel they have "power" of some kind and wish to exercise it.  What this woman really doesn't know, or may well know by now, is that she chose the wrong person to receive the brunt of her "power".

It never gets easier.  And being a parent on the sidelines is no joy!!!

Fun on Friday...

wrapped purchase from Coastal Sisters (LuLu Kellogg)

I purchased a pair of earrings from my friend LuLu Kellogg of Coastal Sisters and the package arrived the other day.  THIS is how LuLu wraps up her products.  I told her this made me feel like a princess.  I had a very hard time letting myself go to unwrap the paper.

 

I had agreed to be part of a gift being sent to someone...the gift being a large folder filled with ATCs we had made as a thank you for a course we had taken together.  These need to be in the mail by no later than April 1st and given that I am prone to saying "I'll get to that later..." I thought later might as well be "now" (I was having a very productive yesterday!) so I put this together digitally and will pop it in the mail this morning.  This ATC is made with graphics by Marsha Salyer Jorgensen of Tumble Fish Studio, a few pieces from Eclectic Anthology and one piece by Eena's Creations. 

I'm off now to share coffee and laughter and birthday gifts with one of my besties, Barb.  We always get excited at gift giving time...our taste and interests are so very similar that it's a joy to find the "right" gift for one another.  I think I have a few put together that she will love...and a surprise in there as well!

Later today it's off to western New York for the weekend.  I'm attending a retreat as part of an online course I've been doing (The Soul in Bloom) and I'll have the opportunity to meet some of the people who have been participating (those who live close enough to make the trip). 

Be good, be better or why not be your best???  Enjoy!

Wishes and Weeds...

A bright sunny early spring morning.  I'm sipping good coffee from a large bowl of a mug and planning my day to fit in all that I want to do (which even surprisingly includes things I need to do!).

And I'm thinking about wishes which I've had on my mind for a few days.  You know, the good ones where you wish someone a happy birthday or a a Merry Christmas or good health.  And the not so good ones that can lead you to frustration where you wish for things that are next to impossible but you wish them anyway.

I'm thinking that with early spring all those dandelions are going to be cropping up faster than you can blink an eye and if I don't pull them out, there will be plenty of pods for blowing wishes into the sky.  Or maybe not.  I derive a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction from getting one that has an intact root all the way to the bottom and some of those suckers are HUGE!  It's the little things right?  It's always the little things that bring such joy!

Writing Down the Words...

* this is what I'm doing

* this is my passion

* this is my purpose

* this is what has been waiting for me for much too long

* this is what is filling my days and nights

* this is where I am 

* this is going to be published, even if I have to do it myself

The Fragrance of Spring...

"Can words describe the fragrance of the very breath of spring? "

 -- Neltje Blanchan

*

I live for this day every year, the first day of spring.

This year it is filled with dense fog and dampness, no sunshine but I know it will come.

I saw buds on the lilac tree this morning which is lovely but it is much too early and I wonder what will happen to the buds and the tree as it blooms ahead of it's season.  We have a lot to answer for in the ways we have damaged this planet.

Spring has a smell.  A very particular smell.  I smelled it yesterday and told my children.  They of course think I am crazy.  But it's there and I know.  I think they just haven't taken the time to sniff!  But now that I have brought it to their attention I hope that they will keep this knowledge and use it.

My younger son went back to school yesterday as he finishes this, his first year of college.  He'll be home again for Easter and then very shortly after that when he has written his final exams.

Sense memory is very odd.  I walk by his room the first few days he has gone and I expect to see him in there.  Or I prepare to go and make sure he is awake.  How unbelievably 

difficult this must be for parents who have lost a child.

Welcome Spring!

Miniature Fairy Specimens from Pixie Hill Studio...

Miniature Fairy Specimen Created by Nichola Battilana of Pixie Hill Studio

Approximately .5" wide and 1.8" tall...a delightful fairy house, in a fairy garden, with a fairy snail, under fairy mushrooms, all put together under a glass dome with a felted bottom and a verse that surrounds the base. 

When I saw these last week I simply fell in love and knew that I needed one.  Maybe even more than one.  Each phrase on the specimens is different and I had a hard time deciding which one would be living here with me.

The one I purchased says: "Followed dusty little prints in the wine cellar and found this behind the 97 Merlot".  If you know me...and my love of wine...especially Merlot, then you know that this one was really calling my name.

Such tiny detail and such tiny work!  Nichola Battilana, a Canadian artist who lives in southern Ontario, has a great deal of patience and steady hands to be able to do this.  Some of her creations end up in vintage thimbles and all are one of a kind.  I am in awe when I see details like this replicated in miniature.

If you are interested, you can watch Nichola work in a video tutorial that she has done here.  And don't forget to visit her etsy shop for a little fairy loving!

From My Mind's Eye...

How difficult can it be to design a bathroom?  To come up with exactly what you want for each and every element?

Harder than I thought it seems.  Oh I can see it in my mind's eye but that's proving to be quite unhelpful when it comes to actually finding the pieces and putting it all together.

I want a beachy cottage feel to this room.  I love the beach and I love the calmness of a beach cottage done in whites and sands and worn weathered grey.  There must be some blue for that tranquility and the impression of water and waves.

Colours won't be a problem as I know what I'm looking for so it's simply a matter of pouring over hundreds of paint chips from various manufacturers to find the exact match.

Finding a vanity is my immediate concern and as of right now I am meeting with no success.  I thought I had found one, changed my mind, went back to it and I'm still uncertain.  I don't like the top -- it may be quality material but to me it looks "cheap" and it isn't what I've seen in my mind's eye and it can't be "changed" as it comes as one piece.  I don't like the hardware and taps either but those are less expensive and easier to change.  This room is being done only once which means I want it to be "right" and not "okay, well, that will do..." -- if "that will do" I would be leaving it as it is even with it falling apart...well, okay, maybe not....but you get the idea.

The one that "may be okay" found at Rona - March 2012

I am considering finding a different piece of furniture and having it converted into a vanity...the contractor tells me he could do this.  But I really need to get my skates on because demolition and construction begin April 4th.

My mind's eye and I have a lot of work still to do.....

Asking the Questions...

Lake Ontario - March 15, 2012 - almost spring

I spent some time yesterday at "the ocean", or what my friend Elizabeth calls "the ocean" for my benefit.  True, it is Lake Ontario, but from where we sat with our coffee, you could hear the waves and if you closed your eyes, you could make believe that it really was "the ocean".  Given that it takes approximately 25 minutes to drive to this spot in Pickering, and approximately 18 1/2 hours to drive to the Atlantic Ocean, it's much easier to do "pretend ocean", isn't it?

* * * 

This last week for me has been filled with "little gifts".  Like an hour at "the ocean" and conversation about where we are in life and what's next.  And asking for guidance on "how can I do this?" or "how will I share my gifts?" and really being mindful and paying attention and both seeing and hearing the answers to those questions.

Over the last few weeks I've been taking an online workshop with Graciel Evenstar called "The Soul in Bloom...the Home Edition" and it's been filled with interesting guest speakers who have shared thoughts on how to care for our physical bodies and how to care for our emotional/spiritual bodies.  I was listening to a video presentation last night that was given by Dr. Amy Tolbert and her philosophy and what she was talking about slid like a "click" in a lock with me.  I left a few comments about the topics Amy discussed and this morning I read her replies to me.  There was one sentence in one of her replies that might as well have been typed in red and highlighted in bold.  To Amy it will have been a thought she shared.  To me it was like being handed the keys to a new car.

It wasn't that Amy was giving me permission to do something I have been dreaming about, it was a confirmation that it is time, the right time, to fulfill that dream.  All my questioning of the last month has really been coming to this, and while there have been other hints, signs and post-it notes left for me to find, it was Amy's simple sentence....as if she was echoing back to me what I had been asking to hear. 

The truth is, other people have said the same thing to me in much the same way, but for some reason, seeing that sentence this morning confirmed for me that the path I have chosen is the one that I am meant to be on.

There is excitement and apprehension and joy in realizing that you have been heard and you have been shown what you need to see.  Not just keeping your eyes and ears open, but keeping an open mind.  It seems to me that if you are going to "ask" for something that you need to be prepared to discover the answer might not necessarily come in the form that you expect.

Are you listening for the answers to your dreams?

Fall Into A Dream...

woke up

got out of bed

dragged a comb across my head

.... where the rest of the day will take me is still up for grabs .... 

... but wouldn't it be lovely to fall into a dream ...

*with thanks to the Beatles for their voices and Byron O. Thomas for his words

E.B. White On Genius...

Just a little something to ponder on this beautiful sunny, almost spring day....

What's In My Belly...

You have a day -- like I had yesterday -- where you do "something" and you know that "something" has the potential to back fire.  You know that maybe it's going to be "okay" but there is a greater maybe that it's going to be not so okay.  And you do it anyway.  Let's hear one great big collective *sigh*.

All I did was make a phone call.  A "let's get caught up" kind of phone call and because I was in that place, you know that place, that we all get sometimes where I "thought" it would be what I was looking for.  And it was nice.  I enjoyed the conversation.  Until I got off the phone.  Because it wasn't what I was looking for.  And as for "thought", my mother used to say whenever one of us would say "well I thought...", "well, you know what thought did, don't you?" -- and I never did find out the answer to that one.

And then I had what I refer to as "a belly full of sad" because that's where I could feel it, right in my belly. 

Me, thinking that I could go back in time for just a few minutes and recapture something that was lost and only lost because of time.  You can't turn it back -- well, that's a lie.  We just turned it forward an hour and we'll turn it back an hour in the fall and why we can't just leave it where it is....  But I'm digressing.  You cannot be back in any time that you have already lived with the exception of memories and looking at photographs.  But your physical body and present life...are where you are.  And I know that.  And I live in the moments of every day.  Usually.  Almost all the time.  Except for when I don't.  Like yesterday.

So when I posted on facebook that I had a belly full of sad...my friends noticed because "whoa, she does so not do sad.."  But "she" does.  From time to time.  Especially when she's being nostalgic or hovering on that precipice of the new world...new world to her.

And I had private messages, and a long distance telephone call that lifted me right up (thank you you!!!), and a funny message on my wall about being glad I don't have this kind of belly in my belly, which made me laugh because this friend is what she likes to refer to herself as "whack" which makes me laugh all on its own, and this friend has a sense of humour that I love...

image from msnbc.com - Mike Meyers as Fat Bastard - copyright

Friends lift you up when you have a belly full of sad.  If you let them.  Sharing "sad" is the same as sharing "joy".  You feel it, therefore, it exists.  Those who love you know just what to do...if you let them.

Thanks my friends...I'm off now to have a belly full of coffee!! 

Sweet Betsy McCall...

original collage by Sherry Smyth - March 2012

Do you remember Betsy McCall?  The page in the McCall's magazine, way back in the mists of time, with Betsy McCall and two outfits?  She was what I called the Betsy McCall Cut Out Doll and I looked forward to her every month.

I was really rather blessed as a child with a woman in my life who at the time was simply "a woman in my life" and it wasn't until recently that I realized just what an influence she had in my life.

My paternal grandmother died 3 years before I was born, only 9 months after my maternal grandmother.  It wasn't a very good year for grandmothers.  My paternal grandfather remarried around the time of my birth and we didn't refer to this woman as "grandmother", she was called "Auntie Doris".  I've no idea who coined this or why we would think of her as our "aunt".  Maybe it was the decision of my father and his sisters who felt that their mother was the "only" grandmother.

Doris had lived a hard life and had managed to provide for herself and her son after her first marriage ended.  She bought a house and she saved and scrimped and bought day old bread and day old fruit. She knew how to stretch a dollar.  She made her own French salad dressing (it was delicious!) and she sewed her own clothing and was quite skilled.  As a matter of fact, Doris taught my mother how to sew and my mother became quite skilled herself.  Hors d'oeuvres (or horses douvers as they became affectionately known) for a family dinner consisted of celery sticks filled with cheez whiz (still a favourite!) and sardines on crackers (for my mother and my uncle...both married in to the family).  Raisin bread toast in the evening or cinnamon toast made fresh.  Doris could not have been more like a grandmother if she had in fact been my genetic relative.

Doris had a subscription to McCall's magazine and each month she would keep it for me so that I could have the Betsy McCall.  I never knew when the magazine would be in, but there we would be for tea or a  meal and Doris would tell me to look in the dining room, and there on the little table would be the magazine.  Do you know I asked each time if I could cut her out?  As if the privilege and the joy would be somehow taken away or disappear.  And do you know that it wasn't until adulthood that I realized McCall's magazine and McCall's patterns were connected?  I didn't even think about the pattern being offered with the Betsy doll because I only had eyes for the "cut out".

When we were children Doris would have us over before the holidays and she would sit my sister and me down to make a craft gift for our mother.  I recall painting in gold paint on bars of swirly soap and one that really stands out -- a large juice can that we painted purple (!), filled with indoor sand and put artificial flowers in.  We painted salad dressing bottles and decorated them and filled them with homemade bath salts.  And I wonder where my interest in crafting was developed...no, I don't really.

Doris was a formidable woman, stern and she looked like she could be unapproachable. But I know she had a warm heart and she loved children. I never properly thanked Doris for her grandmothering ways with us.  But I think she knew how much I cared and what her kindness meant to me.  I think she knew for sure the winter I had gone tobogganing with my friends at a hill near their house and we were so cold that I trooped my sister and our friends down the street to Auntie Doris and Grandad's.  We said we just came to say hello and get warm and what did Doris do?  She took all our mittens to warm up over the radiator and she made us hot chocolate.  Just what you go to your grandmother for on a very cold winter day.

Reading on a Saturday Night...

image from Joshilyn Jackson's website

A quiet Saturday night with nothing much on television so I found a comfortable spot and finished reading Joshilyn Jackson's latest work, "A Grown Up Kind of Pretty".    I am a fan of her work and was looking forward to the release of this novel.  Was.not.disappointed. And I love the cover...I had a dress like that once upon a time.

And there's that synchronicity again....this one set in Mississippi and Alabama.

I have to say...this springing forward thing is not doing it for me.  Noon?  Already?  More light at the end of the day maybe...but it was already staying lighter longer.  I'll adjust.

Ordinary Moments...

...sometimes they sparkle, sometimes they don't.  Ordinary moments make up the bulk of our lives but there is nothing to say we can't get out a chamois and give them a little sparkle when necessary.

I love a Friday morning where I can take my time over my first cup of coffee (today it's a cinnamon vanilla nut by Archer Farms...from Target), and get my day off to the start, that may not end up where I intend, but it's the start I try to get the day directed. This morning the sun is trying to shine and I'm ready to get moving.  I'm not "happy" sitting around with no energy and as you'll have realized I don't like to be in one place for too long.

The above book by Christine Mason Miller was written a few years ago and I had often thought of purchasing it but didn't until a few weeks ago (thanks Beth for having this on the art table for me to browse through!) and I came away feeling many things and thinking many thoughts.  I would say this book was on my agenda at the time when I needed to be reminded of quite a few things.

Bear with me as I ramble...things like I can write my own story and take the pieces plopped in my lap and configure them to the way I would like them to look.  True, it might mean things look a bit lopsided but it is MY story...and I'm caring what others might think of it because??

Even as I'm writing on this blog I'm somewhat censoring myself.  I do believe that we need to be our own censor, to be sure we aren't creating a false image or using words that might offend and not opening and revealing ourselves to our deepest core.  I'm not talking about that...I'm talking about holding back and not   being fully myself or speaking clearly.  I'm talking about knowing that someone I used to know is reading what I write and I'd rather that person not really know much about me anymore.  However, I write in a public domain and that is going to happen.  There is an underlying feeling though given the past relationship and how it ended, that this woman is sneaking a look into my life, the look that she forfeited 32 years ago for reasons of her own and I became comfortable with that.  It was a gift, even if I didn't recognize it at the time.  And I've moved on into my life and filled the space that she left in other ways.  I'm sure she isn't aware that I know she reads my thoughts from time to time, but I am.  And I know this.  I hope that she finds something that she is looking for in doing so.  We were friends and we are no longer friends.  We were friends for a short period of time and we have been strangers to one another far, far longer than we were ever friends.  I would like to believe that perhaps there is some remorse and that the glimpses she gets here (because they are really only glimpses) serve a purpose greater than just being nosy and satisfying curiosity.

Life is filled with ordinary moments and they don't all have to sparkle in order to be special.  As a matter of fact, some of the best moments in life shine best when you look upon them as a memory.

Message to this virus.  I am getting up and I am going out and I am pushing forward.  Even if I am going forward on my knees...

A Pictorial Essay of Savannah...

This virus still has me wrapped in it's tentacles.  One step forward (right so you know me it was more like three) and it puts me two steps back and I'm taken by surprise how low this has laid me.   Another day of keeping under the radar so I thought, because I've got Georgia on my mind, that I would just leave you with a pictorial essay of my day in Savannah.  It was a blend of primarily the "old" with the "new" of shipping that has carried on from those times past.  If you would like to see the photos as a slide show, click on the first one and it will create a slide show for you.

We stayed by the riverfront for the day as there was plenty to see and plenty to capture our interest.   Another trip is on my "list of things to do".  No time to check out the old houses and the squares, the cemeteries or the museums.  Savannah is indeed a city rich with history, mystery and for those who enjoy a little ghost haunting/hunting, I believe there is a very large "brewing" of that.  I hope you enjoy these snippets.

This reminds me of "Gone with the Wind" - February 2012

I just loved this old boat wheel used as a sign for a shop - February 2012

They've maintained the old brick of the original buildings down by the river - February 2012

They've kept the cobblestones as well -- not pleasant to walk on - February 2012

Nostalgia for the tourist trade - February 2012

Old signage by the river which I loved - February 2012

modern day shipping as a freighter leaves the river for the Atlantic - February 2012

One of many statutes in the area, this one depicting "Freedom" - February 2012

the pleasure of watching an artist at work...or is it play? - February 2012

vibrant colour and detail - February 2012

driving the streets of Savannah with the massive Oak trees and drapes of Spanish Moss - February 2012

I hope you've enjoyed this essay.  I love a little synchronicity as well.  As I started reading Patricia D. Cornwell's latest novel "Red Mist" I smiled quite broadly -- the book is set in Savannah.  As the author describes and talks about locations in the book I am instantly transported in my mind to "seeing" and "feeling".  What is life without a little synchronicity?

One final thought I would like to add.  I have seen this on other blogs lately and I have noticed it on mine.  I'm not impressed with how Google is taking particular words in our posts and adding a link which takes you to a page that has NOT been linked by the author of the blog.  I only highlight books, places you can purchase something I have shared or to other blogs if there is something I want to share there with you.  I DO NOT link or highlight to other websites for anyone who is selling something or wanting you to take a survey.  My own little disclaimer here.  xo

Not "Who", But "What"...

I so value the comments that were left here on my post from yesterday.  As well as the comments I received on Facebook and those I received in private emails.  There is a sense of community when you share what is on your mind and in your heart and you realize that others feel something similar or perhaps just understand and value what you are feeling.  Those gratitudes while "small" are in fact really quite large.

Further reflection has lead me to recognize that it's not so much "who" I am that is pulling at me, but "what" I am.  I know full well who I am with regard to my character and my values, my interests and my passions.  I know who I am with regard to my shape, size, colouring and physical attributes.  I know who I am in my heart and my soul.

I seem to be "stuck" on the part of myself that encompasses "what" I am in this world.  From earliest childhood we are taught that we are small, tall, outgoing, introverted, shy, outspoken, we are feminine or masculine, or a tomboy, or a sissy, or we are kind and generous or we are selfish and needy.  Certainly some of that encompasses our "who" but these words are labels that we attach to ourselves or others have attached to us and we have come to "believe" they are true of us (okay, the short/tall part we can't argue with -- you are the size that you are and that is true!).

We are asked from early childhood "what do you want to be when you grow up?" -- and we have nothing to base the answer on other than what we know of the world "at the time".   I would have said at different times that I wanted to be a teacher or a lawyer or a mother.  I did in fact manage one of the three.
And motherhood also encompasses a great deal of teaching and being a lawyer..sometimes for the prosecution and sometimes for the defence!

As I grew older I recognized that I had an interest in and a talent for being creative.  I enjoyed writing and art and I liked designing things.  I thought at the time I was twelve that I might become a writer and yet lawyer was still in my mind.  And I continued to be creative.

In high school I excelled at Marketing and using all those skills -- being creative, designing, using my words and my artistic abilities but life has it's way of pulling you where you are going and my direction did not lead me there.  My story is no different than hundreds of other stories.  I chose a different path because it was necessary and it certainly was easy.  But I can tell you that it brought me no joy, no passion and no pleasure.  I worked to earn money.  Oh I was very GOOD at what I did, make no mistake, and I used those talents many times in my adult life, but as for something fulfilling, it was not.

Motherhood consumed a great part of my life and it has been an incredible experience I feel privileged to have been given.  Throughout my children's childhoods I was ever present as the mom involved in school activities, serving on committees, organizing fundraising, driving students to athletic games, driving my own two for years to hockey practices and games and being involved in the running of many of those teams.  I have enjoyed every moment of those experiences.

And they are now "over".  I am reminded often that "I've got it mom" -- a nearly 24 year old who tells me that he can handle "this" or "that" and don't forget mom "I have lived on my own for a number of years now".  Yes, you have.  And a 20 year old who just smiles at me when I remind him of something simple, one of those things mothers do and then says "mom, I'm 20...it's cool." *sigh*

In many respects I am now "retired" from active duty.  Oh I'm still a mother and I am still "needed" in some ways but I have "completed my mission" -- they've flown.  Successfully to date.  And I see no reason why they will not continue to.

So I go back to "what" am I??  I've tried to define myself as a creative, or an artist or a writer or a what??  When I was in Florida the "girls" were out for a day of shopping and we met a young family with whom Beth had become friendly after snapping wonderful photographs of them on the green.  When Beth introduced us to her friends she introduced Kim as an artist and she introduced me as a writer.  I heard that.  Loud and clear.  And I wonder why is it that we often do not see ourselves as others do?  Why do we fail to grab that definition of "what" we are until we hear someone else utter the words that perhaps we've only just glanced at ourselves?  Where did that 12 year old me go in all these years?

That 12 year old writes letters to the editor and articles for other publications.  That 12 year old me wrote letters to pen pals for many, many years and made some wonderful friendships.   That 12 year old me writes on blogs and writes words to comfort or encourage others.  That 12 year old me gives those words in other places but never sits down and says "these are my words and I want to share them from me to...."

I'm grateful that I can hear what others say about me or think about me.  I'm grateful that I know I can commit myself to being who I am and what I am.  I'm grateful that I recognize I no longer need to rely on others to define who or what I am...that I can know this in my heart and accept it and do something with it.  I don't need to fly on someone else's coat tails...I need to fly with my own wings to reach whatever destination is out there waiting for me.

Fly...use your wings...

A Gift Within a Gift...

Seashells - Tybee Island, Georgia - February 2012

There is so often joy in the small things.  Like finding this shell on the beach at Tybee Island and discovering another shell tucked within.  It is like finding a gift within a gift, and when the other gift is smaller it is often very easy to overlook it because the eye is focused on the larger gift, the one that is so much more visible.

For the last few months I have been feeling "apart".  I am part of my life and yet on a very deep level, as if I am observing from above.  This feeling hasn't alarmed me or worried me, but I've noticed it and I noticed it a great deal more while I was on vacation.  I think it was being in the car, in a closed space and watching miles of countryside slide by the windows.  Time such as that always gives me time to think and to reflect.  Car travel offers some of the best opportunity for reflection, introspection and conversation.  I have had some of the best conversations with my children while riding in a car, most often when we would be traveling across the city to hockey games.

Upon my return from our two week journey I half expected that feeling to dissolve, but the other half of me knew that it was only the beginning and that it was time to discover why I was feeling this way and to bring the pieces back together.  

I have always been a "helper" and a "doer"and a "giver".  When I was a child and a young adult there was a very great part of me that resented that.  As if I was only here to help others and not myself.  A silly attitude to be sure, but there were many factors that allowed me to choose to feel that way.  It took motherhood and many years of maturity to allow me to realize and accept that this is a gift.  After cancer I focused on my own health and recovery but I also focused a great deal of time on helping others because it was and continues to be so very important to me to do that, to extend the hand, the shoulder, the arms to embrace.

What I have come to understand now is that I haven't been taking enough care of myself.  That I haven't been putting myself first at times when it would be wise to do so, or quite simply "okay" to do so.  I need a balance of giving and taking.  And I'm not talking about taking from others though I have come a very long way with that and I know how to accept help and the gifts of others.  It's the taking "me" time and not saying "oh I really could be doing this instead..."   It's about being able to fill myself with what I need and want and feeling that I'm "entitled" to do so.  There was a lengthy period in this past almost 7 years where I felt that I would be "stepping on cracks and breaking my mother's back" if I stepped out of a "mould" that I had created for myself.  

I believe in the power of prayer.  And so over the last few weeks I have been talking about this and asking for guidance in how can I learn to take better care of myself.  To make sure that I am healthy and satisfied and doing the things that I know will bring me pleasure or new experiences.  And the answer came.  Not in the form I thought it would or expected it would.   And how great is that when the answer comes and you know "I've been heard!"

My Sunday in bed, all day, staying flat on my back or sitting up to have some soup (even if there was no "Soft Kitty"!).  I took care of myself.  I put myself first.  It was step one in the answer to what I had been asking.    Do I think I was given this virus "on purpose"?  Well, that I can't answer.  I have no immune system as such so of the 4 of us in the house at the time, there was a very high chance that the virus would find me.  Given my lack of direction and feeling "low" at the time, I was open to the virus in that regard as well.  

This isn't about getting sick and dealing with a virus as much as it is noticing the small gifts.  Looking inside to see what else is there.  Being aware and mindful.  

I'm having a jammie day again so far today.  Yesterday was busy taking the younger one back to school as he finishes the last part of this semester.  And running necessary errands.  I felt okay, the sun was out, and it was mighty cold.  But I did too much and today I'm feeling a bit knocked back.  So a slow day, more reflection and thankfully, less VapoRub.

Listen for the answers to the questions you ask...be aware and mindful of where they are, those gifts within a gift.

Got the Vapo, But No Soft Kitty...

This little jar of VapoRub and I spent the weekend together.  It was my childhood cold companion and it is my "go to" remedy when I have a heavy cold.  It was my "blessed relief" yesterday from total congestion and the fact that at some point I was fairly certain that my head was going to blow up.  The Vapo didn't let me down.

I spent the entire day in my bed, resting, reading, drinking tea, orange juice and water.  I got up a few times because of all the tea, orange juice and water and to clear the "mound" of tissues that were accumulating on the bed.  I napped a few times and I ate a few times and basically just allowed the germs to run their course.

Around 5:00 a.m. I woke and thought my head was being cleaved in two.  Sleeping with my mouth open to breathe produced very dry throat and mouth and contributed to the headache.  A quick pit stop, a large helping of VapoRub smeared on my forehead and cheeks and back to bed for another few hours of sleep.  My hair looked a fright when I got up but the headache, was gone.  Don't tell me this stuff doesn't work!

When I got up to get some soup later in the evening, "The Big Bang Theory" was on.  Sheldon had a cold and asked Penny to rub VapoRub on his chest and sing "Soft Kitty" to him.   I did ask, but there were no takers on singing "Soft Kitty" to me.  So I went back to bed.

The Bird Girl...

image found on google.com

When I travel I find that I like to purchase a book either written about the area or that has some significance to the area.  I've never really given much thought to the fact that I do this, however, after I purchased "The "Bird Girl" The Story of a Sculpture by Sylvia Shaw Judson" when in Savannah, I recognized how often I follow this practice.  Therefore it must be instinctive.

Many years ago I read "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" by John Berendt and thoroughly enjoyed it.  I didn't see the film which was apparently loosely based on the book (the book is non-fiction though it reads like a novel).  I remember being struck by the beautiful statue of the bird girl that was on the cover of the book and that it was in the Bonaventure Cemetery in Savannah.

It is no longer in the cemetery.  The popularity of the book and the film meant so many visitors that in order to protect the sculpture it was moved first to a private home and it is now residing in the Telfair Musuem of Art.

As much as I would have liked to visit the museum to see this sculpture there wasn't enough time in our day but a future visit to Savannah will most definitely include that.

As I was shopping along the Factor's Walk district of Savannah I saw this book and knew I wanted to bring it home so that I could learn more about the artist, Sylvia Shaw Judson.  There were many replicas of this statue for sale, all of them heavy, all of them expensive.  While I would have delighted to see one of these every day in my own garden, or a smaller version inside my home, I'm happier with the book.

I'm flat on my back this weekend with a miserable, heavy duty head cold.  I'm giving myself orders to stay in bed and treat myself with some tlc.  I'll have ample cups of tea and read this book while the sun is shining on me through my window.

For the Love of Junk...

One of the best days we spent in Florida was the Saturday.  The community where we were visiting was hosting its annual yard sale with a large number of vendors congregating on the green and a large number of buyers coming to check the merchandise.

Yes it was cold...freezing cold at about 48 degrees around 8 a.m., very unseasonable for Florida.  But we cared not.  The sun was out, we had coffee (well two of us did...we knew we wouldn't make it far without that jolt of caffeine in our systems), we were bundled up and we had cash in our pockets.  Need I say more?

This was my favourite vendor of the day.  I think I returned to purchase from her twice, okay so maybe it was really three times.  Seriously, I could not get away from what she had to offer without finding something else I "needed".  I initially purchased a small pillow in a shabby chic ticking pattern. I almost put it back because it wasn't "aged" enough until Kim said "dye it in tea or coffee" -- yes!!  Thanks Kim!! It was $8.  I turned around to join the others, and then saw a gorgeous quilt...

which I purchased for $10.  At the time I thought I would use it as a photo prop or for crafts.  It's now been washed and is on my bed...it fits beautifully and it's added a new dimension of charm.  All I need now is some throw pillows, a new window treatment and I have the perfect lamp to move from another room.  I love make overs that cost so little.

We moved on to other parts of the green where I purchased a great old picture frame (thanks for the nudge Beth!) with the wire attached and clothes pegs hanging from it.  Another $10 delight.

I purchased the frame from this vendor.  Do you love her style?  The Chanel chapeau, the pink polka dotted coat and the gloves?  I'm sure the gloves were part of the style but they were functional as well.

On a final sweep of the sale before heading out to do other things and grab some lunch I returned to my original vendor and purchased this tatty old quilt for $10 (cushion is from Hobby Lobby).  It's a mess but that's part of the charm.  No idea what I will do with it but cutting it up is probably in it's future.  When I paid for it the woman selling it told me she had intended to do just that when she purchased it but had never managed to find the time.  My gain.

Another $2 for a vintage ticking tea towel from a vendor that Beth was having some success with (the quilt she purchased is lovely) and I was done.

I love the rust on this piece...so many wonderful old bits that I came across on my travels.  And a love of the flea market, antique shop and "junking" was reborn.  I'd forgotten how much I enjoy finding those small or not so small special pieces.  Warm weather lets go -- I'm making a list of spots to go hunting!