Today is the day before the day before Christmas and our house is a little fuller and a little messier than usual. Our house never looks immaculate, thank God, I am very uncomfortable in houses that look like they are either material for a magazine or ready for showing by a real estate agent. I always feel the word "house" applys to them, not the word "home".
Our home seems to bursting at the seams right now. Besides the usual Christmas stuff, wrapped gifts, hidden garbage bags in closets, a frozen turkey in the sink and a bowl of torn up bread pieces, smelling like sage, on the cupboard and for some reason extra library books piled on and around my computer desk. The extra books are my fault. I have an irrational fear of running out of reading material, thus the many, many books.
We have four more souls living our home right now. We have two kittens, both male. Both are white, one has a few black spots and the other a few orange spots. Jon, my grandson, called one Spartan and the other Titan. But to me they are Bert and Ernie, black and white Bert and orange and white Ernie. I had forgotten how entertaining kittens were and we are enjoying them immensely. We also have a friend of the family Tara and her cat Gus.
Tara and Gus will be staying with us for the winter, while she gets some things in her life straightened out. He cat Gus is an interesting story. He is about 6 years old and is hydro cephalic, meaning he was born with water on the brain. Gus is amazingly self sufficient considering his disability but he does require some extra protection from the other pets. The fact that Tara has a hydro cephalic cat tells you a lot about her. We do this fairly often, taking in someone who needs a safe, warm and loving home, while they heal.
Our home seems to expand and then go back to its normal size when these people move on, yet they always stay a part of our family. This is update of our home and family two days before Christmas. If I don't get back to you and my blog before the end of the year; I sincerely wish you and yours a wonderful Christmas and Happy New Year.
Monday, December 23rd, 2013................1:14p.m.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
"When We Talk To God It Is Called Prayer. When God Talks To Us It Is Called Paranoid Schitzophrenia"
I am not sure who to attribute this quote to. As usual I heard these words on my car radio, while driving into town. I am really grateful for the CBC radio, most of my topics come from listening to that station. I do know that the statement is true. I worked in the Mental Health sector for a long time and the idea of you talking to God "prayer" was usually thought to be a good thing. It seemed to encouraged, even applauded. But if you came to therapy and said that God talked to you, you were usually prescribed an antipsycotic drug and quite a few sessions with a therapist or psychiatrist. Hopefully the drugs and therapy worked and you stopped hearing from God.
Is it just me or is this just a little bit silly? Personally I have never been able to nail down the God thing. But if there is one I would hope that His/Her talking to me wouldn't call for drugs or rubber rooms. Just saying.
Thursday, December 12th, 2013............1:15p.m.
Is it just me or is this just a little bit silly? Personally I have never been able to nail down the God thing. But if there is one I would hope that His/Her talking to me wouldn't call for drugs or rubber rooms. Just saying.
Thursday, December 12th, 2013............1:15p.m.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
My 75th Birthday
Was wonderful, exciting, surprising, loving, happy and so many more adjectives I could add. My birthday is November 7th and seeing as it was my 75th, I kind of expected some little family party. I was very surprised however when I drove into the long driveway on November 2nd and saw balloons tied to the mailbox and even more surprised as I drove up the lane way to see so many cars. The 2nd was a Saturday, and as usual Saturdays at noon I attend one of my 12 Step Programs. I left the house at about 11:30a.m. and returned close to 2p.m. My daughter, who works long hours at night, had spent days earlier making and freezing so much food and during the 2 hours I was away she had decorated our home for my birthday.
There were family, my first born from Hamilton with his wife and two of my granddaughters, my oldest daughter from London, without her wife, who was looking after new puppy at home and of course my baby girl. There were also some of my friends I have made since I moved here a little over 5 years ago. I am surprised at the amount of friends I have made in 5 years. I don't consider myself a very out going person. Yet as I looked around the house at my family and friends I once again counted my blessings. This would have been perfect if my youngest son and my son in law could have been here,. Both were working;Rusty, my youngest son, out of town and Dennis, my favorite son in law and person was working out of the Province, but I heard from both of them.
I am grateful to have lived 75 years and at the end of that time to be surrounded by loving family and friends. I want to say Thank You to everyone who attended and especially to my daughter who nurtures and loves everyone and everything, even when she is so tired. It is so appreciated Tami.
Tuesday, November 19th, 2013...........11:44p.m.
There were family, my first born from Hamilton with his wife and two of my granddaughters, my oldest daughter from London, without her wife, who was looking after new puppy at home and of course my baby girl. There were also some of my friends I have made since I moved here a little over 5 years ago. I am surprised at the amount of friends I have made in 5 years. I don't consider myself a very out going person. Yet as I looked around the house at my family and friends I once again counted my blessings. This would have been perfect if my youngest son and my son in law could have been here,. Both were working;Rusty, my youngest son, out of town and Dennis, my favorite son in law and person was working out of the Province, but I heard from both of them.
I am grateful to have lived 75 years and at the end of that time to be surrounded by loving family and friends. I want to say Thank You to everyone who attended and especially to my daughter who nurtures and loves everyone and everything, even when she is so tired. It is so appreciated Tami.
Tuesday, November 19th, 2013...........11:44p.m.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Places And Spaces
"Places suggest security and spaces suggest freedom" I am not sure that is the exact quote by Taun, but it is close. These are words I first heard on CBC, then came home and looked up the quote on my computer. Then, as the process always goes with me, the words roll around in my mind until I regurgitate them in writing, usually in this blog,
For me the words definitely have a strong ring of truth. Certain places, especially the place that is home to me now, definitely equates security. I can think of two other places where I work, petsitting and housesitting, where I feel comfortable and secure almost immediately upon entering. Libraries are places of pleasure and security to me. I can get almost giddy when entering a library or a used book store. For whatever reason new book stores don't have that effect on me. New book stores are to clean and tidy. I am not against cleanliness or tidiness but libraries and used bookstore always have a little dust around and are not always the tidiest places I have been.
Spaces suggest freedom. For me freedom and spaces can be scary places. I am most able to explore them when I am coming from a place of security. I have in my life set out for places that were hundreds or even thousands of miles away from home. Almost always these places were work related. And I have to admit that it can be fun. In the early 1970s I went to work in Thompson, Manitoba. When I first arrived I did not know one person, not even the persons who met me at the airport. I made a decision then that I had never made before or since, I could and would completely give myself a new identity. I would be confident rather than shy, I would be happy rather than apprehensive, I would be a woman of the world rather than the scared child/woman who really lived in my body.
This was a strange experiment for me. And it worked. I became what I pretended to be, until it didn't feel like pretending anymore. I opened a sales division like it was something I had done many times before, when in fact it was the first time I had ever done it. I came to be able to give direction to salespeople and they listened to me. Everyone that I came to know their considered me to be a strong, knowledgeable woman and eventually even I believed it. it was a wonderful experience although I can remember thinking "someone is going to find out that I am not this strong, experienced person that I seem to be. That didn't happen. I left after the year's contact was up and my secret was never found out.
I guess to sum up my take on this quote: If I am coming from a place of security and love I can take on the spaces out there.
October is ending, the morning glories and most of the other plants on and around the deck are frost bitten. The days are getting shorter and the nights longer. I am in a warm, loving secure place and I am even looking forward to the winterness that will soon be upon us.
Tuesday, October 29th, 2013................8:27p.m.
For me the words definitely have a strong ring of truth. Certain places, especially the place that is home to me now, definitely equates security. I can think of two other places where I work, petsitting and housesitting, where I feel comfortable and secure almost immediately upon entering. Libraries are places of pleasure and security to me. I can get almost giddy when entering a library or a used book store. For whatever reason new book stores don't have that effect on me. New book stores are to clean and tidy. I am not against cleanliness or tidiness but libraries and used bookstore always have a little dust around and are not always the tidiest places I have been.
Spaces suggest freedom. For me freedom and spaces can be scary places. I am most able to explore them when I am coming from a place of security. I have in my life set out for places that were hundreds or even thousands of miles away from home. Almost always these places were work related. And I have to admit that it can be fun. In the early 1970s I went to work in Thompson, Manitoba. When I first arrived I did not know one person, not even the persons who met me at the airport. I made a decision then that I had never made before or since, I could and would completely give myself a new identity. I would be confident rather than shy, I would be happy rather than apprehensive, I would be a woman of the world rather than the scared child/woman who really lived in my body.
This was a strange experiment for me. And it worked. I became what I pretended to be, until it didn't feel like pretending anymore. I opened a sales division like it was something I had done many times before, when in fact it was the first time I had ever done it. I came to be able to give direction to salespeople and they listened to me. Everyone that I came to know their considered me to be a strong, knowledgeable woman and eventually even I believed it. it was a wonderful experience although I can remember thinking "someone is going to find out that I am not this strong, experienced person that I seem to be. That didn't happen. I left after the year's contact was up and my secret was never found out.
I guess to sum up my take on this quote: If I am coming from a place of security and love I can take on the spaces out there.
October is ending, the morning glories and most of the other plants on and around the deck are frost bitten. The days are getting shorter and the nights longer. I am in a warm, loving secure place and I am even looking forward to the winterness that will soon be upon us.
Tuesday, October 29th, 2013................8:27p.m.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
"September Morn"
And afternoon and evening. This morning I went outside to have my coffee on the deck. The morning glorys were all open wide, the blue ones (my favorite) and the purple ones as well as all the flowers that live on around the deck. My daughter has a way with all living things. Things bloom for her, not just plants, all living things. Her family blooms, as does her friends and neighbors, sometimes I think she is unaware of the benefits of her nuturing. And sometimes maybe we, her family are too. She makes it look so easy and natural. She moves a planter, picks off a dead bloom, humming or singing as she makes her way through her garden and life, she is a treasure and I treasure her.
For me a perfect year would have two months over and over, May and September. These are the two months I enjoy most out of the year. I have an allergy to the heat and I don't care for freezing weather either. Two of my daughters were born in September and other daughter was born June 3rd, that is close enough to May to enjoy her birthday also. My sons were born in January and July, either extreme heat or extreme cold. Perhaps that is what makes them so interesting to me. I don't know maybe they run hot and cold whereas my daughters are more temperate like the weather they born in, maybe not, just a thought. I picked up my grandson from work at 10p.m. tonight and was able to enjoy the harvest moon. A wonderful September day and night. Now it is bedtime and I am going to take the dogs, Six and Tic out for their last pee and enjoy a little more of this September night and the Harvest Moon.
Thursday September 19th, 2013............11:12 p.m.
For me a perfect year would have two months over and over, May and September. These are the two months I enjoy most out of the year. I have an allergy to the heat and I don't care for freezing weather either. Two of my daughters were born in September and other daughter was born June 3rd, that is close enough to May to enjoy her birthday also. My sons were born in January and July, either extreme heat or extreme cold. Perhaps that is what makes them so interesting to me. I don't know maybe they run hot and cold whereas my daughters are more temperate like the weather they born in, maybe not, just a thought. I picked up my grandson from work at 10p.m. tonight and was able to enjoy the harvest moon. A wonderful September day and night. Now it is bedtime and I am going to take the dogs, Six and Tic out for their last pee and enjoy a little more of this September night and the Harvest Moon.
Thursday September 19th, 2013............11:12 p.m.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Remembering A Death
Tomorrow September 9th, 2013 will be the 11th anniversary of Paul's death. Paul was in my life briefly when I was 17 years old, at that time their was a possibility that he fathered my second child. After that time he disappeared from my life for almost 40 years, or I disappeared from his, as I was the one who ran away, I ran away from my home, my husband, my life I guess. I took my two babies and ran.
In 1995 first my sister then my dad died. It was a difficult time, I was shaken and probably in some state of trauma. I recall walking around all day humming "Staying Alive, Staying Alive". It wasn't a conscious thing, my humming and when I was made aware of it I recall thinking I don't even know that song, I didn't know any other words, just staying alive. It felt like everyone I knew and loved was dying, I had also lost my best friend Joy, who was 3 years younger than me, as was my sister.
Sometime early in 1996 I received a telephone call from Paul. He had gotten my number from my eldest stepbrother. I was still humming Staying Alive and I recall thinking maybe there is a reason for "Staying Alive". It took almost a full year before Paul visited me at my home in Fenelon Falls. We talked a couple of times a week for that year. His wife had died 2 years earlier so he was a widower. His mother stilled lived in St Catherines and when she became ill Paul made the first trip from his home in Illinois to Ontario to visit his Mother and meet with me. I remember feeling like the 17 year old me again. The first time Paul came to visit I was alarmed at how thin he was. He told me then that he had had an operation 2 years before for colon cancer and his prognosis wasn't good, the Drs gave him 2 years to live. I chose to ignore this, I just wanted someone to fill the empty hole that was inside me.
Paul's mother died and Paul spent the best part of a year with me. He had to return to Illinois for more surgeries and once again was given a year to live. Paul outlived this prognosis by two years, The last two years of his life was hell, for me and for him, He was so angry and eventually I became angry also. I wanted him out of my life, I wanted my life back again, yet how do you do this when the Dr are saying he has only weeks, perhaps months to live. When in fact he lived two more years.
I don't sound like a very nice person, even to myself as I write this and remember this. My job was my life saver at this time. I began booking evening clients so I wouldn't have to go home. He began drinking more heavily and the anger boiled over in him more ofter. Somehow we got through those two years. I remember thinking "this man will never die, he will always be sick and miserable but he will never die.
On September 5th of that year he was crying and I was crying. Paul had been sleeping in a reclining chair for almost 2 years because he couldn't breath lying down. By that time the cancer was in his lungs, prostate and every part of his body. That day September 5th, I asked him to come and lay in the bed with me. I removed his housecoat that he now lived in and held his naked, skeletal frame in my arms and we both just cried. Two days later he was hospitalized again, this time for the last time.
I still didn't believe he would die, I thought he would come home again and continue being sick and miserable. On September the 9th, 2002 I stopped in the hospital on my way to work. Apparently Paul had had a stroke or something during the night. He was incapable of speech, yet he still had incredible strength and was propped up in bed slamming himself back and forth on the pillows, he was making noise but I couldn't make out what he was trying to say. His eyes were full of naked, overwhelmimg fear. I went for a nurse to give him morphine or something to calm him. Eventually she appeared with a needle. Before she give him the needle she called me. There was alarm in her voice, she said "he is dying now" and he was. I took him in my arms and whispered in his ear, I kept this up until she pulled me away. I sat by his bed for about half an hour. His eyes were wide open and a single tear was running down the left side of his face. His mouth was wide open and there was a string of spittle going from bottom lip to his top lip. I sat all that time looking at that sting of spittle, thinking isn't that strange, I should break it, but I didn't.
In 1995 first my sister then my dad died. It was a difficult time, I was shaken and probably in some state of trauma. I recall walking around all day humming "Staying Alive, Staying Alive". It wasn't a conscious thing, my humming and when I was made aware of it I recall thinking I don't even know that song, I didn't know any other words, just staying alive. It felt like everyone I knew and loved was dying, I had also lost my best friend Joy, who was 3 years younger than me, as was my sister.
Sometime early in 1996 I received a telephone call from Paul. He had gotten my number from my eldest stepbrother. I was still humming Staying Alive and I recall thinking maybe there is a reason for "Staying Alive". It took almost a full year before Paul visited me at my home in Fenelon Falls. We talked a couple of times a week for that year. His wife had died 2 years earlier so he was a widower. His mother stilled lived in St Catherines and when she became ill Paul made the first trip from his home in Illinois to Ontario to visit his Mother and meet with me. I remember feeling like the 17 year old me again. The first time Paul came to visit I was alarmed at how thin he was. He told me then that he had had an operation 2 years before for colon cancer and his prognosis wasn't good, the Drs gave him 2 years to live. I chose to ignore this, I just wanted someone to fill the empty hole that was inside me.
Paul's mother died and Paul spent the best part of a year with me. He had to return to Illinois for more surgeries and once again was given a year to live. Paul outlived this prognosis by two years, The last two years of his life was hell, for me and for him, He was so angry and eventually I became angry also. I wanted him out of my life, I wanted my life back again, yet how do you do this when the Dr are saying he has only weeks, perhaps months to live. When in fact he lived two more years.
I don't sound like a very nice person, even to myself as I write this and remember this. My job was my life saver at this time. I began booking evening clients so I wouldn't have to go home. He began drinking more heavily and the anger boiled over in him more ofter. Somehow we got through those two years. I remember thinking "this man will never die, he will always be sick and miserable but he will never die.
On September 5th of that year he was crying and I was crying. Paul had been sleeping in a reclining chair for almost 2 years because he couldn't breath lying down. By that time the cancer was in his lungs, prostate and every part of his body. That day September 5th, I asked him to come and lay in the bed with me. I removed his housecoat that he now lived in and held his naked, skeletal frame in my arms and we both just cried. Two days later he was hospitalized again, this time for the last time.
I still didn't believe he would die, I thought he would come home again and continue being sick and miserable. On September the 9th, 2002 I stopped in the hospital on my way to work. Apparently Paul had had a stroke or something during the night. He was incapable of speech, yet he still had incredible strength and was propped up in bed slamming himself back and forth on the pillows, he was making noise but I couldn't make out what he was trying to say. His eyes were full of naked, overwhelmimg fear. I went for a nurse to give him morphine or something to calm him. Eventually she appeared with a needle. Before she give him the needle she called me. There was alarm in her voice, she said "he is dying now" and he was. I took him in my arms and whispered in his ear, I kept this up until she pulled me away. I sat by his bed for about half an hour. His eyes were wide open and a single tear was running down the left side of his face. His mouth was wide open and there was a string of spittle going from bottom lip to his top lip. I sat all that time looking at that sting of spittle, thinking isn't that strange, I should break it, but I didn't.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
"The Best Time Is Now"
Yesterday, July 17th, would have been my 59th wedding anniversary. My son will be 59 this coming January, so if you do the math you will see that I was pregnant at 15 years old and my son was born 2 months after my 16th birthday. I believe something good always comes out of anything and Michael is my proof of that theory.
I think it was on an Oprah that I first seen the post title. For me it so true, the best time is now. In my daughter's home, my home, we have 2 air conditioners chugging away trying to cool the downstairs of the house. My daughter sleeping soundly on the chesterfield, because the upstairs bedrooms are so warm. My grandson is sleeping soundly on his bed upstairs, because he is 17 and can sleep anywhere, also because he went to work this morning at 7a.m and I picked him up at 3 this afternoon. After I picked him up we had to go to a neighbors and a friend to dig a hole for her to bury her 13 year dog who has doing poorly. I look after these animals when our neighbor/friends go away, the last time I was with them was last weekend. I noticed that the doomed dog was much more alert than she had been. Her owner noticed that too and called the vet and cancelled the needle for now. I was glad, his old dog is a favorite of mine. Puppies are cute but there is something about older dogs that appeal to me, possibly I just identify with them.
Anyway, right now I am only one awake in the house. My daughter goes to work at 10p.m. and finishes at 7a.m. Jonathon goes tomorrow at 7a.m. and I will be up to drive him and I will pick him up again tomorrow at 3p.m. It is nice how everything works in this home, we are all willing to make adjustments to accommodate each other, I think that is what makes it a happy home, we all love each other and we all know it.
I think I have written about Tic our new dog, but here goes again. When Poppy died, Six, our German Shepherd, did some serious grieving. She stopped eating, barely drank water and after 4 days she would go out on the deck every night and howl. The howling was so sad and so mournful that we began to worry about her health, particularly since she wasn't eating. My daughter, this wise and wonderful woman, decided that we needed another dog for Six. If you knew Six you would know how ridiculous this sounded. Six doesn't like anything or anyone who isn't part of her pack; most of her pack live in this house. I swear this dog can smell DNA, because if someone comes to visit who is blood related they are safe from her wrath, however if you are not a blood relative you have to watch it. Anyway for Six we got a puppy Labradoodle. Her name is Luna(tic). I call her Tic. Just to let you know, Six does not have a maternal bone in her body, she has never been fixed and she has never let a male dog come anywhere near her, so her maternal is zero except for her pack (us). When we first brought Tic home I though OMG she will be a sacrificial lamb, in this case puppy. That was 7 months ago and Tic is still with us. The only time she ever suffered at the teeth of Six was when she literally jumped into the snarling mouth of Six, my daughter and I witnessed the suicidal puppy when this happened... ..They co exist now and Six stopped howling right after Tic arrived. One day I want to do a post on Six, who I call Lady and Luna who I call Tic. It will be called "Lady And The Tic". Happy July All.
Thursday, July 18th, 2013.....7:15p.m.
I think it was on an Oprah that I first seen the post title. For me it so true, the best time is now. In my daughter's home, my home, we have 2 air conditioners chugging away trying to cool the downstairs of the house. My daughter sleeping soundly on the chesterfield, because the upstairs bedrooms are so warm. My grandson is sleeping soundly on his bed upstairs, because he is 17 and can sleep anywhere, also because he went to work this morning at 7a.m and I picked him up at 3 this afternoon. After I picked him up we had to go to a neighbors and a friend to dig a hole for her to bury her 13 year dog who has doing poorly. I look after these animals when our neighbor/friends go away, the last time I was with them was last weekend. I noticed that the doomed dog was much more alert than she had been. Her owner noticed that too and called the vet and cancelled the needle for now. I was glad, his old dog is a favorite of mine. Puppies are cute but there is something about older dogs that appeal to me, possibly I just identify with them.
Anyway, right now I am only one awake in the house. My daughter goes to work at 10p.m. and finishes at 7a.m. Jonathon goes tomorrow at 7a.m. and I will be up to drive him and I will pick him up again tomorrow at 3p.m. It is nice how everything works in this home, we are all willing to make adjustments to accommodate each other, I think that is what makes it a happy home, we all love each other and we all know it.
I think I have written about Tic our new dog, but here goes again. When Poppy died, Six, our German Shepherd, did some serious grieving. She stopped eating, barely drank water and after 4 days she would go out on the deck every night and howl. The howling was so sad and so mournful that we began to worry about her health, particularly since she wasn't eating. My daughter, this wise and wonderful woman, decided that we needed another dog for Six. If you knew Six you would know how ridiculous this sounded. Six doesn't like anything or anyone who isn't part of her pack; most of her pack live in this house. I swear this dog can smell DNA, because if someone comes to visit who is blood related they are safe from her wrath, however if you are not a blood relative you have to watch it. Anyway for Six we got a puppy Labradoodle. Her name is Luna(tic). I call her Tic. Just to let you know, Six does not have a maternal bone in her body, she has never been fixed and she has never let a male dog come anywhere near her, so her maternal is zero except for her pack (us). When we first brought Tic home I though OMG she will be a sacrificial lamb, in this case puppy. That was 7 months ago and Tic is still with us. The only time she ever suffered at the teeth of Six was when she literally jumped into the snarling mouth of Six, my daughter and I witnessed the suicidal puppy when this happened... ..They co exist now and Six stopped howling right after Tic arrived. One day I want to do a post on Six, who I call Lady and Luna who I call Tic. It will be called "Lady And The Tic". Happy July All.
Thursday, July 18th, 2013.....7:15p.m.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
"That's Right Up My Cup Of Tea"
It is June 1st. Life is good. Family and friends are healthy. I am a great grandmother for the 6th time and will be again in about 5 weeks. That makes 7 great grandchildren born without the (benefit???) of marriage. I mentioned in an earlier post how wonderful it is to see people get past, way past, the marriage thing. I wonder how this trend is affecting divorce lawyers?? I spend a lot time worrying about lawyers. I was so glad when gay marriage was legislated, I mean why should they not help support lawyers.
I suppose I am being a little sarcastic, something I don't like in others and I don't like it in myself. It is just that I find it so difficult not to do one of the few things I am good at. My own children, who are all now grandparents themselves, have really good, healthy marriages and/or relationships. Linda, my eldest daughter married her partner Ann 6 or 7 years ago. Everyone who knows Ann loves her. They are delightful to be with and happy with their marriage and each other. Michael, my first born, is very happy in his marriage to Shelia and has made a wonderful home for his blended family.
Janet, my second born is in a happy marriage, as far as I know. At least they are still together. Janet and I have been estranged for many years now. Sometimes a child gets the wrong parents or the parents get the wrong child. It happens. I wish her well and hopefully she wishes me well. Rusty my third born, is with a lady I am very fond of and as far as I know they are well and happy. Leighann, Rusty's lady, is the kind of person I would like to have around if I needed care and we have made an agreement that should that happen she will be here. Hopefully that never happens but it is nice to know that if it is ever does she will be here. Tami, my baby girl, is married to one of my favorite people on the planet, and seeing as she is also one of the best people on the planet it works very well.
I live with Tami and Dennis in a large yellow brick farmhouse, built in 1875. It is a happy home that always 3 generations, often 4 with their own grandchildren and occasionally 5 generations when Dennis's grandma, a 101 year old lady comes to visit. Because I have lived here for over 5 years I have had a lot of time to observe a marriage where he always puts her first and she puts him first. It is a very mature relationship. They don't have to be all over each other to prove something. They already know and it shows. So, perhaps I am the screwup in marriage, in fact I am almost sure that I am. Be that as it may, I am happy and I am grateful. In fact this life I am living is right up my cup of tea.
Saturday, June 1st, 2013.......9:42p.m.
I suppose I am being a little sarcastic, something I don't like in others and I don't like it in myself. It is just that I find it so difficult not to do one of the few things I am good at. My own children, who are all now grandparents themselves, have really good, healthy marriages and/or relationships. Linda, my eldest daughter married her partner Ann 6 or 7 years ago. Everyone who knows Ann loves her. They are delightful to be with and happy with their marriage and each other. Michael, my first born, is very happy in his marriage to Shelia and has made a wonderful home for his blended family.
Janet, my second born is in a happy marriage, as far as I know. At least they are still together. Janet and I have been estranged for many years now. Sometimes a child gets the wrong parents or the parents get the wrong child. It happens. I wish her well and hopefully she wishes me well. Rusty my third born, is with a lady I am very fond of and as far as I know they are well and happy. Leighann, Rusty's lady, is the kind of person I would like to have around if I needed care and we have made an agreement that should that happen she will be here. Hopefully that never happens but it is nice to know that if it is ever does she will be here. Tami, my baby girl, is married to one of my favorite people on the planet, and seeing as she is also one of the best people on the planet it works very well.
I live with Tami and Dennis in a large yellow brick farmhouse, built in 1875. It is a happy home that always 3 generations, often 4 with their own grandchildren and occasionally 5 generations when Dennis's grandma, a 101 year old lady comes to visit. Because I have lived here for over 5 years I have had a lot of time to observe a marriage where he always puts her first and she puts him first. It is a very mature relationship. They don't have to be all over each other to prove something. They already know and it shows. So, perhaps I am the screwup in marriage, in fact I am almost sure that I am. Be that as it may, I am happy and I am grateful. In fact this life I am living is right up my cup of tea.
Saturday, June 1st, 2013.......9:42p.m.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Recovery
"No matter who we find ourselves relating to, and what we discover happening in the relationship, the issue is still about us, and not about the other person. That is the heart, the hope, and the power of recovery."
That is a quote from Melody Beattie from "The Language Of Letting Go", a book I read each morning. I read this on April 29th and the words are still running through my mind. When this happens I have to write them down, digest them and regurgitate them on paper, or in this case in my blog.
Something deep inside me balked when I read these words. I have been in relationships, family relationships, friend relationships, work relationships and even neighbour relationships where I felt the issue was definitely about the other person not me. When I take this path I find my body and my mind filled with resentment; I have actually become physically ill and/or severely depressed when I stay on this path.
It "is" about me. It is about my reaction to someone else's words or actions. And yes sometimes they are at fault. When anyone deliberately betrays or hurts you, that is their doing. The problem comes when I make it my job to retaliate or inflict blame. Because that isn't my job. At the end of all the pain, hurt and betrayal, my job is to speak "The Language Of Letting Go". Only then can the Universe, Karma, whatever set right the wrongs.
Thursday, May 16th, 2013............1:00p.m.
That is a quote from Melody Beattie from "The Language Of Letting Go", a book I read each morning. I read this on April 29th and the words are still running through my mind. When this happens I have to write them down, digest them and regurgitate them on paper, or in this case in my blog.
Something deep inside me balked when I read these words. I have been in relationships, family relationships, friend relationships, work relationships and even neighbour relationships where I felt the issue was definitely about the other person not me. When I take this path I find my body and my mind filled with resentment; I have actually become physically ill and/or severely depressed when I stay on this path.
It "is" about me. It is about my reaction to someone else's words or actions. And yes sometimes they are at fault. When anyone deliberately betrays or hurts you, that is their doing. The problem comes when I make it my job to retaliate or inflict blame. Because that isn't my job. At the end of all the pain, hurt and betrayal, my job is to speak "The Language Of Letting Go". Only then can the Universe, Karma, whatever set right the wrongs.
Thursday, May 16th, 2013............1:00p.m.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Happy Month Of May
Today is the 7th of May. I always enjoy this month, however, this year I seem to be more aware of being happy. This can be a kind of scary feeling for me. I think I am afraid of being happy. When I have been happy in the past it seems like something has always happened to jerk me out of that state of being. Even as a very young child I can remember laughing and then hearing my mother's voice
"What are laughing at? Whats so God Damned funny?" Of course the same went for crying, "What are you crying about? There is nothing to cry about. I'll give you something to cry about." These old messages are still in my head and they always will be. It is my 70 something job to go back and reassure the 7 year old little girl that it is safe to be happy.
I am sure that I am not the only adult hat carries these messages, we all carry decades old messages that were permanently planted in our child self. For myself, I have found that the more grateful I am for the things and people in my life the happier I am. I love the new green colour of the leaves. This colour only last for a week or 10 days then that new green colour begins to darken, so I always spend a lot time during the first 2 weeks of may looking at new leaves. This is the time of year when I think of our planet as "The Good Earth".
Today is the Birthday of my grandson Rusty Roy and of my grand daughter in law Stephanie, who makes the beautiful babies. All kinds of wonderful things happened on May 7th including the launching of the space shuttle Endeavour in 1992. Happy Birthday Rusty Roy and Stephanie.
Tuesday, May 7th, 2013........................12:25p.m.
"What are laughing at? Whats so God Damned funny?" Of course the same went for crying, "What are you crying about? There is nothing to cry about. I'll give you something to cry about." These old messages are still in my head and they always will be. It is my 70 something job to go back and reassure the 7 year old little girl that it is safe to be happy.
I am sure that I am not the only adult hat carries these messages, we all carry decades old messages that were permanently planted in our child self. For myself, I have found that the more grateful I am for the things and people in my life the happier I am. I love the new green colour of the leaves. This colour only last for a week or 10 days then that new green colour begins to darken, so I always spend a lot time during the first 2 weeks of may looking at new leaves. This is the time of year when I think of our planet as "The Good Earth".
Today is the Birthday of my grandson Rusty Roy and of my grand daughter in law Stephanie, who makes the beautiful babies. All kinds of wonderful things happened on May 7th including the launching of the space shuttle Endeavour in 1992. Happy Birthday Rusty Roy and Stephanie.
Tuesday, May 7th, 2013........................12:25p.m.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
"Amputate Your Sense Of Shame"
This is just a part of a quote by Roy H Williams. The entire quote is: "Fear is the assassin of success. Why not bulletproof in 2 easy steps? 1)Make peace with the possibility of failure.
2) Amputate your sense of shame."
There is enough "meat" in those two sentences for a number of blogs. Tonight I will start with the second step. "Amputate your sense of shame".
I am thinking now of a blog I did a little while ago, where I gave the example of fear being taught. If that is almost always true, then in my opinion "shame" is always taught. No one is born with a sense of shame. Someone always has to teach you shame. In over 70 years of living I have never seen a newborn baby, puppy, kitten, etc etc exhibit shame.
There is enough blame to go around when it comes to the people and societies who advertently or inadvertantly teach shame. I think schools and churchs are outstanding examples of how to impose shame on innocent children. How many of us hasn't stood at the front of the class with our faces red and our heads bowed as we gave a wrong answer or totally forgot what we had memorized and prepared to regurgitate in front of a teacher and class. And what about presenting at a work related function? That is really fun as we stumble for the words. I have reread my own blogs after spell checking (or not) and realize that I have typed the same word twice. I always feel the warmth in face when that happens; because I know that you will know that I made a mistake. Even understanding why I make this mistake (because my brain works a lot faster than my fingers. Thank God or I would be here all day.)
The only tool I have found that works for me is at the very beginning of a presentation is to say something like there is very good chance I may mess, funk this up, depending on my audience, because I am not perfect and I have a whole other life when I am not here; however, I will do my best to present the content as clearly as possible and take questions later. I never claim to be an expert on anything except myself, my feelings and my experiences...........That helps sometimes........
Wednesday, April 24th, 2013.........9p.m.
2) Amputate your sense of shame."
There is enough "meat" in those two sentences for a number of blogs. Tonight I will start with the second step. "Amputate your sense of shame".
I am thinking now of a blog I did a little while ago, where I gave the example of fear being taught. If that is almost always true, then in my opinion "shame" is always taught. No one is born with a sense of shame. Someone always has to teach you shame. In over 70 years of living I have never seen a newborn baby, puppy, kitten, etc etc exhibit shame.
There is enough blame to go around when it comes to the people and societies who advertently or inadvertantly teach shame. I think schools and churchs are outstanding examples of how to impose shame on innocent children. How many of us hasn't stood at the front of the class with our faces red and our heads bowed as we gave a wrong answer or totally forgot what we had memorized and prepared to regurgitate in front of a teacher and class. And what about presenting at a work related function? That is really fun as we stumble for the words. I have reread my own blogs after spell checking (or not) and realize that I have typed the same word twice. I always feel the warmth in face when that happens; because I know that you will know that I made a mistake. Even understanding why I make this mistake (because my brain works a lot faster than my fingers. Thank God or I would be here all day.)
The only tool I have found that works for me is at the very beginning of a presentation is to say something like there is very good chance I may mess, funk this up, depending on my audience, because I am not perfect and I have a whole other life when I am not here; however, I will do my best to present the content as clearly as possible and take questions later. I never claim to be an expert on anything except myself, my feelings and my experiences...........That helps sometimes........
Wednesday, April 24th, 2013.........9p.m.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
"Nearly All Men Can Stand Adversity, But If You Want To Test A Man's Character, Give Him Power".
This is a quote by Abraham Lincoln. I found it at the beginning of a book by Denise Mina. Every so often I run across words like these; I read them, then read them again, close the book and ruminate on the words. They stay in my mind until I finally write them and explore them. It brings me back to "Power Corrupts And Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely".
It is difficult to not let power change you. Sometimes it is easier to deal with adversity, adversity is something most of us are familiar we and in familiarity there is a kind of comfort. For me the feeling is something like "oh yea, I know this place, I have been here before. I know exactly where I am, I am not lost. (for me being lost is probably my number 1 fear).
In my life when I was put in a position of authority (and I was put there, I am sure I didn't apply for it) what I felt was a whole lot of responsibility. My last position of authority was with the Ministry Of Health, I came to Executive Director of that organization more by attrition than anything else. However, because I strongly believed in the values of the Organization, I worked very hard to make it work and I enjoyed every day that I did it,. There were no doubts times when I used my authority for my good and more times when I used it for the good of someone else, who needed an advocate for them. People with Mental Health issues have very little if any voice of their own.
It is hard even for me to believe that I was as naive as I was at 68 years old, when I was undermined by others who wanted that position for their own selfish and somewhat sinister ideas. I was even told months before the betrayal to be careful of these people. I didn't really pay enough attention to the people warning me. I was "terminated", God don't you love that word? I felt terminated, or exterminated and the slimy people got their way, It took less than 3 years to destroy completely what it took me 17 years to build. Forgiving these people is the hardest thing I ever did. And when I did it, I did it for myself so I could move on.
That is my story of having power. I haven't touched on the smaller things about having power, like having power over small children or women or minority's. All of which I witnessed.
Afternoon Thoughts
Thursday, April 18th, 2013.........5:46p.m.
It is difficult to not let power change you. Sometimes it is easier to deal with adversity, adversity is something most of us are familiar we and in familiarity there is a kind of comfort. For me the feeling is something like "oh yea, I know this place, I have been here before. I know exactly where I am, I am not lost. (for me being lost is probably my number 1 fear).
In my life when I was put in a position of authority (and I was put there, I am sure I didn't apply for it) what I felt was a whole lot of responsibility. My last position of authority was with the Ministry Of Health, I came to Executive Director of that organization more by attrition than anything else. However, because I strongly believed in the values of the Organization, I worked very hard to make it work and I enjoyed every day that I did it,. There were no doubts times when I used my authority for my good and more times when I used it for the good of someone else, who needed an advocate for them. People with Mental Health issues have very little if any voice of their own.
It is hard even for me to believe that I was as naive as I was at 68 years old, when I was undermined by others who wanted that position for their own selfish and somewhat sinister ideas. I was even told months before the betrayal to be careful of these people. I didn't really pay enough attention to the people warning me. I was "terminated", God don't you love that word? I felt terminated, or exterminated and the slimy people got their way, It took less than 3 years to destroy completely what it took me 17 years to build. Forgiving these people is the hardest thing I ever did. And when I did it, I did it for myself so I could move on.
That is my story of having power. I haven't touched on the smaller things about having power, like having power over small children or women or minority's. All of which I witnessed.
Afternoon Thoughts
Thursday, April 18th, 2013.........5:46p.m.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Words From My Daughter
"My Mother taught me everything I needed to know about being a woman and a friend and my Mother In Law taught me everything I needed to know about being a wife and mother". These are words I over heard from my daughter while she was talking to a friend. My first reaction was to be a little bit hurt that I didn't teach her everything. I took a couple steps back in my mind and thought: What the hell could I teach anyone about being a wife? I was married twice by the time I was 20 and all I knew about marriage was that I didn't like it, in fact I disliked it immensely. During my marriages I always felt trapped, dependant and gagged. I felt like I could hardly breathe. I so envy my grandchildren. So far five of them have a had a child without the (benefit???) of marriage and everyone celebrates the birth if their children, including me, perhaps especially me. That was a definite NO NO in the 50s and 60s. There was a few words during that time period for women who had a child without having a husband and none of them were very nice.
On the other hand my daughter's Mother In Law appears to be a woman who really embraced marriage and Motherhood. She was married to husband for over 40 years before he died. They had 5 children, one of whom is my son in law; he is one the best people I have ever known. Molly, the Mother In Law has pretty well dedicated her life to her husband and her children. Now at age 77 she is constantly babysitting her great grandchildren, not just for a few hours here and there but everyday all day. I really like this woman and I admire her, I just know that I couldn't be her. And I am pretty sure that she would say she couldn't be me. I no longer feel any hurt or resentment about my daughter's words. She is right it took two women to teach her everything she had to know about having the well rounded life she enjoys today. And I thank Molly for her contribution.
Thoughts in the evening
Sunday, March 24th, 2012.........8:24p.m.
On the other hand my daughter's Mother In Law appears to be a woman who really embraced marriage and Motherhood. She was married to husband for over 40 years before he died. They had 5 children, one of whom is my son in law; he is one the best people I have ever known. Molly, the Mother In Law has pretty well dedicated her life to her husband and her children. Now at age 77 she is constantly babysitting her great grandchildren, not just for a few hours here and there but everyday all day. I really like this woman and I admire her, I just know that I couldn't be her. And I am pretty sure that she would say she couldn't be me. I no longer feel any hurt or resentment about my daughter's words. She is right it took two women to teach her everything she had to know about having the well rounded life she enjoys today. And I thank Molly for her contribution.
Thoughts in the evening
Sunday, March 24th, 2012.........8:24p.m.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
My Dad Roy Edward Hardman
The man I called Dad was not my Father. My biological Father bailed when I was 3 and my sister was a newborn. I could never get too angry with him for leaving my Mother, in fact I understood that to well. I remember wishing that he taken me with him; other than that I never thought much about my father.
The man I called Dad was born in 1900; we always knew how old he was. In 1950 he was 50 and so on. I believe he loved me, as much as my Mother would allow anyway. He was a strong man both physically and in many other ways. I can't say how intellectually strong he would have been, he had a grade 4 education. Even with that level of education he was 3rd class marine engineer as well as a 3rd class stationary engineer. My Mother was 22 when she met him and he was 42. He had just become a widower with 4 children and of course my Mother had Peggy and I. Because of the age difference his children were older than my sister and me. Over years they at one point married, I don't remember it, I believe they were married by the justice of the peace, I know it was not a large affair.
When I was 8 years old my Mother had a child, my brother Sam. Actually his name was Roy after his Father, but for whatever reason he was called Sam from the day he was born. When I was 10 and Sam was 2 my dad decided to try and get his 2nd class Engineers papers. This never happened because the rules had been changed and he would need to write for his 2nd class papers. When he got his 3rd class papers apparently no one had to write for their papers, they just did an apprenticeship under the men who were engineers and if there were tests it was hands on work. As I said my dad had grade 4 education and his writing and spelling were not good,
I liked my dad, I probably loved him, He knew all kinds of neat things. He had a trapline every winter and spring, He augmented his income this way. He caught skunks, racoons, weasel and fox in the winter and muskrats in the spring. All winter our house smelled like skunk, we got used to it but school mates would hold their noses when we went to school. My dad could fix shoes, I remember he had a metal lass or last I am not sure how it was spelled. I recall him putting our shoes on it and adjusting it to that size then resoleing our shoes. I am pretty sure no one does that anymore. He played the mouth organ and could also play the fiddle. He was an amazing man and I realize now that I never appreciated him. He died in 1960 at 60 years of age. I was pregant with my fourth and last child and my sister was pregnant with her second child. We both gave birth within 2 months of his dying.
Thoughts About My Dad
Tuesday, February 19th, 2013...........7:22p.m.
The man I called Dad was born in 1900; we always knew how old he was. In 1950 he was 50 and so on. I believe he loved me, as much as my Mother would allow anyway. He was a strong man both physically and in many other ways. I can't say how intellectually strong he would have been, he had a grade 4 education. Even with that level of education he was 3rd class marine engineer as well as a 3rd class stationary engineer. My Mother was 22 when she met him and he was 42. He had just become a widower with 4 children and of course my Mother had Peggy and I. Because of the age difference his children were older than my sister and me. Over years they at one point married, I don't remember it, I believe they were married by the justice of the peace, I know it was not a large affair.
When I was 8 years old my Mother had a child, my brother Sam. Actually his name was Roy after his Father, but for whatever reason he was called Sam from the day he was born. When I was 10 and Sam was 2 my dad decided to try and get his 2nd class Engineers papers. This never happened because the rules had been changed and he would need to write for his 2nd class papers. When he got his 3rd class papers apparently no one had to write for their papers, they just did an apprenticeship under the men who were engineers and if there were tests it was hands on work. As I said my dad had grade 4 education and his writing and spelling were not good,
I liked my dad, I probably loved him, He knew all kinds of neat things. He had a trapline every winter and spring, He augmented his income this way. He caught skunks, racoons, weasel and fox in the winter and muskrats in the spring. All winter our house smelled like skunk, we got used to it but school mates would hold their noses when we went to school. My dad could fix shoes, I remember he had a metal lass or last I am not sure how it was spelled. I recall him putting our shoes on it and adjusting it to that size then resoleing our shoes. I am pretty sure no one does that anymore. He played the mouth organ and could also play the fiddle. He was an amazing man and I realize now that I never appreciated him. He died in 1960 at 60 years of age. I was pregant with my fourth and last child and my sister was pregnant with her second child. We both gave birth within 2 months of his dying.
Thoughts About My Dad
Tuesday, February 19th, 2013...........7:22p.m.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Our Second January Thaw And Lies We Tell
It isn't a lie, we are having a second January thaw. Apparently it isn't going to last but it is nice to be able to get out for a while again. Here in Bruce County snow and lots of it is a given in the winter. This is probably the snowiest place I have ever lived in Ontario. I lived in Thompson, Manitoba for a year and even their with 40 below being the average temperature we never had this much snow. At 40 below it actually hardly ever snows. During the small amount of sunlight we had each winter day you could see ice crystals in the air but very little snow fell.
My other topic "Lies We Tell" came from my favorite source of information CBC radio. I listened to the program yesterday while driving to all the places I could while the weather permitted. After mulling over the information I tried to categorize the lies I have told over my lifetime.
1) Lies we tell stranger, acquaintances and friends
2) Lies we tell to family and others we love
3) Lies we tell ourselves
There is a woman who is writing a blog "Lies I tell My Daughter". I haven't read her blog but I will before I write anymore on my lies, my reasons for telling them. About my lies of omission, which I believe are most of our lies, and most importantly the lies I tell myself.
Now I am heading for the library to restock on books before the freeze hits and I am house bound for another week or more.
Afternoon Thoughts
Wednesday, January 30th, 2013............12:40p.m.
My other topic "Lies We Tell" came from my favorite source of information CBC radio. I listened to the program yesterday while driving to all the places I could while the weather permitted. After mulling over the information I tried to categorize the lies I have told over my lifetime.
1) Lies we tell stranger, acquaintances and friends
2) Lies we tell to family and others we love
3) Lies we tell ourselves
There is a woman who is writing a blog "Lies I tell My Daughter". I haven't read her blog but I will before I write anymore on my lies, my reasons for telling them. About my lies of omission, which I believe are most of our lies, and most importantly the lies I tell myself.
Now I am heading for the library to restock on books before the freeze hits and I am house bound for another week or more.
Afternoon Thoughts
Wednesday, January 30th, 2013............12:40p.m.
Friday, January 25, 2013
In My Daughter's Home
This is a snowy late January morning, the sky is grey and snow is falling again and I am sitting at my computer with a warm cup of coffee, just letting my mind wander while looking out the window at the pine trees bowed down from the last weeks accumulation of snow.
Paisley, the little village we live in is situated in Bruce County about a 10 minute drive to Lake Huron. The house is quiet now. My daughter has left for work and I am here alone, except for our German Shepherd Six and our 4 month old puppy Luna(tic). The home we live in was built in 1875, it is two story, yellow brick farm house and I love it. There is a warmth in this house that comes as much from the people living in it as from the propane furnace that heats it.
My daughter Tami, my son in law Dennis, their 16 year old son Jonathon and myself live in this home. Quite often one of Tami and Dennis's other 3 sons will be hear for a visit or to spend a few days. Last week my youngest son Rusty was here for a few days. I love having two or more of my 4 children here at the same time. My eldest son Michael lives in Hamilton and my daughter Linda lives in London, Rusty lives in Fenelon Falls where I lived and worked for 28 years. They live far enough away that when they visit it is a wonderful occasion for me.
Due to the weather and my aversion to driving in snowy conditions I have not left the house in 6 days. At one time that would have me crazy and it is a real testament to this family and this home that I am sitting in my fleece robe feeling comfortable and content with my life and the world, more than that I am feeling grateful for everything and everyone around around me. What a wonderful place and time for a 70 something woman. I am so glad that my life includes my wonderful family and the animals and the acres that surround this home. I have friends who live in retirement villages, seniors apartments and various other places. I would miss my 50 Something children, my grandchildren ranging in ages from 30 Something to 16 and now my great grandchildren ranging in age from 3 years to 2 days old. This is my thank you to the Universe for my life and the joy that comes with it.
Friday, January 25th, 2013........10:24a.m.
Paisley, the little village we live in is situated in Bruce County about a 10 minute drive to Lake Huron. The house is quiet now. My daughter has left for work and I am here alone, except for our German Shepherd Six and our 4 month old puppy Luna(tic). The home we live in was built in 1875, it is two story, yellow brick farm house and I love it. There is a warmth in this house that comes as much from the people living in it as from the propane furnace that heats it.
My daughter Tami, my son in law Dennis, their 16 year old son Jonathon and myself live in this home. Quite often one of Tami and Dennis's other 3 sons will be hear for a visit or to spend a few days. Last week my youngest son Rusty was here for a few days. I love having two or more of my 4 children here at the same time. My eldest son Michael lives in Hamilton and my daughter Linda lives in London, Rusty lives in Fenelon Falls where I lived and worked for 28 years. They live far enough away that when they visit it is a wonderful occasion for me.
Due to the weather and my aversion to driving in snowy conditions I have not left the house in 6 days. At one time that would have me crazy and it is a real testament to this family and this home that I am sitting in my fleece robe feeling comfortable and content with my life and the world, more than that I am feeling grateful for everything and everyone around around me. What a wonderful place and time for a 70 something woman. I am so glad that my life includes my wonderful family and the animals and the acres that surround this home. I have friends who live in retirement villages, seniors apartments and various other places. I would miss my 50 Something children, my grandchildren ranging in ages from 30 Something to 16 and now my great grandchildren ranging in age from 3 years to 2 days old. This is my thank you to the Universe for my life and the joy that comes with it.
Friday, January 25th, 2013........10:24a.m.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Words From A Rabbi
"The World Will Never Suffer From A Lack Of Information. It Suffers From A Lack Of Wonder."
I heard these words on CBC radio station last week while driving to Walkerton. They have been playing around in my head ever since; for me that is always a message that I should write about them, otherwise I will have to deal with them in my head forever.
These words have probably more true today than at any other time in history. I believe that all children up to age 6 don't suffer from a lack of wonder. They are seeing, hearing, touching, smelling and tasting things for the first time. They are truly experiencing things for the first time. For the first couple of years of their life they really don't know fear. They have to be taught fear. A 20 year old woman who screams or shudders when she sees a spider is the same person who at a year old was very curious about a very similar spider that was crawling on her crib rail. She wanted to touch it, grab it even, see how it felt and even how it tasted. It is only when the adult enters the room and screams or shudders that she becomes afraid. We are truly the "wunderkind" for the first years of our lives. Today the German word wunderkind means child prodigy, it's original meaning was "A Child Full Of Wonder".
Twenty years ago most of us had no idea that there would be a computer or two or three in our homes. That the word "google would become a word, never mind a verb. Yet even before the advent of computers we all, or most of us lost our sense of wonder. School really did it for me. By it's very definition school means accumulating information then spitting it back out in the form of tests and exams. Our natural sense of wonder is certainly discouraged in exchange for "good marks" that we get through using our minds to memorize information and regurgitate at regular intervals.
After school comes earning a living, which quite often means doing repetitive things for 8 to 12 hours a day. How creative is that? Life is full of children's needs, earning a living, maintaining a home etc etc.
Possibly you have to be a 70 Something Woman/Man to have time and the desire to spend time wondering at the at the miracles occurring around us all the time. Maybe that is why it is called
"A Second Childhood". I am just glad I am there. So many of us don't ever get there.
I heard these words on CBC radio station last week while driving to Walkerton. They have been playing around in my head ever since; for me that is always a message that I should write about them, otherwise I will have to deal with them in my head forever.
These words have probably more true today than at any other time in history. I believe that all children up to age 6 don't suffer from a lack of wonder. They are seeing, hearing, touching, smelling and tasting things for the first time. They are truly experiencing things for the first time. For the first couple of years of their life they really don't know fear. They have to be taught fear. A 20 year old woman who screams or shudders when she sees a spider is the same person who at a year old was very curious about a very similar spider that was crawling on her crib rail. She wanted to touch it, grab it even, see how it felt and even how it tasted. It is only when the adult enters the room and screams or shudders that she becomes afraid. We are truly the "wunderkind" for the first years of our lives. Today the German word wunderkind means child prodigy, it's original meaning was "A Child Full Of Wonder".
Twenty years ago most of us had no idea that there would be a computer or two or three in our homes. That the word "google would become a word, never mind a verb. Yet even before the advent of computers we all, or most of us lost our sense of wonder. School really did it for me. By it's very definition school means accumulating information then spitting it back out in the form of tests and exams. Our natural sense of wonder is certainly discouraged in exchange for "good marks" that we get through using our minds to memorize information and regurgitate at regular intervals.
After school comes earning a living, which quite often means doing repetitive things for 8 to 12 hours a day. How creative is that? Life is full of children's needs, earning a living, maintaining a home etc etc.
Possibly you have to be a 70 Something Woman/Man to have time and the desire to spend time wondering at the at the miracles occurring around us all the time. Maybe that is why it is called
"A Second Childhood". I am just glad I am there. So many of us don't ever get there.
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