A little Sauciness

2011-08-05T18:51:00.001-07:00

Do people really know what depression is? Do they understand how it plays with your mind, clouds your decision making skills, mixes up your perceptions…

It’s a cycle. The conversation in your mind during situations that you are supposed to be happy in is twisted. You know you should be happy. You are sort of happy. You know you normally would be happy, but somewhere inside, you brain is telling you no.

Honour the depression. You are not allowed to be happy in this situation. Don’t show happiness in front of others. Don’t show them you can be happy or they will expect it all the time. Don’t show that picture of you smiling… it’s a fake smile – don’t they know that? Don’t let yourself think you were happy there. Depression is in control, not you. And it’s stronger than you are.

Other times life is whizzing by you and you are inside your head thinking, “Don’t they know how much help I need? Don’t they know I can’t make small talk? I’m stuck cycling through negative thoughts and you don’t get it. Can’t you hear me?” And then comes the guilt. “How could I be so selfish? How can I be so insensitive to others? Why can’t I turn it off? I must be such a drag to be around.”

The insecurity creeps in. Once, you enjoyed attention and social outings. Now you avoid these situations because they will only make you cry. SNAP OUT OF IT! You think you should be able to snap out of it. You feel sorry for yourself. You worry you are going to lose everyone around you. You are forcing yourself to do healthy things… all the right things… and yet you still feel the same. How can I be doing everything right and still feel so depressed? That’s the illness and it’s secret.

You can’t see depression on others. How many people are seriously dealing with this, masking it during daily routines, then sobbing when alone. Needing someone to be there, but wanting to be alone? No one says the right thing. Where is the quick fix? Why is there such a stigma attached to it? Why do people look down on others instead of reaching out? Depression isolates you. You can be in a room full of people, but very alone. Everything hurts. You are tired. You don’t have the skills or resources to do any simple tasks which involve taking care of others because you are too busy managing your own needs and inner struggles. You are in survival mode. You start to resent people who can’t see it. You resent people who seem to be able to be so easily happy.

If you know someone who is depressed, don’t give up on them. They will know you have your limits and need to take care of yourself. They may need space. They may act strange. It may be hard for you to watch from the outside. Somewhere deep down in their minds, even if they can’t show it there is a deep appreciation for those who keep coming back. Hopefully one day they will be able to celebrate with you without guilt, or smile with no negative messages passing through their brain. Hopefully they will find a way to release the grips, find peace within themselves, quiet the mind. Come up from the underworld… see the sun shine.

A person has to do much of this healing and personal reflection on their own. Sometimes it’s our friends who pick up the shell of the body and help put it back together... when we are ready.

I'm a student again!

2010-09-19T07:03:00.000-07:00

This photo is so indicative of where my life is going these days! When I look back to where I was 8 months or a year ago, I think to myself how much things have changed! The spark to change jobs happened in a conversation with my husband - I think I said to him something to the effect that I would retire early and he would keep working because he is such a workaholic. "Oh no", he said, "My pension kicks in at 55. You can keep working." I'm still not sure if he was joking or not, but part of me thought maybe I should take my life into my own hands. I realized I was also ready to trade in the challenges of the old job for new challenges. After applying unsuccessfully for 2 positions with the government, I resigned myself to the fact that I probably wasn't qualified enough. A third, even higher, position was posted, and I thought it would be a long shot but this time I enlisted the help of my friends to change up the resume. I was called for the interview and attended what in my mind was the worst interview anyone had ever done in history. I still got the job, a higher salary and my own pension plan! Unfortunately I gave up all my holidays - summers, winter and spring break. I worked all summer long, reminding myself that I wanted this.

Since changing jobs and adjusting to the government civil service culture, I view things a little differently. I have taken a huge step and have gone back to University to finish a degree. I have been to several classes and it has been another huge adjustment. I am in a class with students who are way younger than I am! I keep telling myself during class time that I need to keep my mouth shut and keep my judge in check. Everyone is on their own path of learning and there is no right and wrong when it comes to our discussions in the classroom. I hear comments from other students and actually I smile to myself, wondering, "How will the professor redirect this comment and bring the conversation back to the topic?" I am not on the teaching end, and I rather like it. I do realize I am not smarter than these students, I'm just in a totally different life space than they are. I have a long journey ahead of me until this degree is completed, but this just fits in with my philosophy - never stop learning.

In addition to work and school, I can add "play" into the mix. I will be acting in another play soon, a tragedy. It's not the type of play I prefer, as of course I like to be the one who gets a laugh out of an audience. I will be playing a swedish kitchen lady from the 1800s. Hah! They have said that I will need to be "uglified". We have also planned a trip, something to look forward to when we will need a much needed break! This tea cup comes from the very place we are going!

So today's was not a funny blog entry, but an update of sorts. I had asked permission at work to take on one more doula client and I am currently waiting for a little baby girl who has decided that she needs a little more time in the comforts of her mother's womb. It feels good that during all this change, I am still able to keep a part of the "previous" me alive.

Kicking, Boobs, and Panties. It's not what you think...

2010-04-03T09:44:00.000-07:00

Throughout the course of my career I have encountered many wonderful, creative children and have an appreciation for the way a 3 year old's mind works. I admire the awe with which children see the world and the lack of baggage we as adults carry with us. I aspire to see life through a child's eyes!
Here are a few funny stories that have stayed with me over the years and a fun tea cup ornament sent to me by another one of my cherished friends.
During my early childhood development training, I completed several practicum placements in child care centres. I was observed by instructors carrying lists and lists of checklists of things they were looking for in my interactions with the children. I was being observed that day while getting a group of children ready for an outside excursion. I noticed a child looking at me intently while I was helping another child put her boots on. He finally came to and asked me a very important question. "Are you pregnant?" Oh boy. I answered honestly, "No I'm not." I knew he had recently had a birth in his family. He thought for another moment and asked, "Then why are your boobs so big?"
My instructor just happened to be there to see me blushing, rendered speechless for a few seconds. He then got the blanket answer every child gets with such questions... "Everyone is different my friend... everyone is different!" Hilarious.
Now in my new job I am on the other side, being the one who observes others. I was recently in a centre following an Early Childhood Educator around writing madly all that was said and done. There was some bustling happening through the corner of my eye and a child started to cry. The "ECE" went over, picked her up and hugged her. She asked the other children in the area, "Why is she crying?" After a few moments of thought, a child stood up and admitted his guilt saying, "I didn't kick her."
The last little anecdote comes from a time when I was a director of a nursery school. There was a child who was extremely shy and quiet, and it was a little concerning at the time. She had difficulty talking to the other children and often played by herself. A few months later after working with her, I had the opportunity to escort her to the bathroom. As I was waiting for her outside the stall I engaged her in a little conversation. I commented, "I see how well you are playing with the other children lately! That must feel good! You are making lots of friends!" From the bathroom stall I hear her enthusiastically agree with me. "YEAH!" ...pause... "It's because I have nice panties."
"I should try that sometime," I answered.

Change

2010-03-25T18:39:00.000-07:00

With change there always comes some loss and some broken feelings. So much change has entered my life recently and I had begun to feel like I was spinning out of control. Things have settled and it is always much easier to reflect on your situation after time has passed.
So what has changed? The major change recently has been a switch in jobs. The whole process from beginning to end put me on edge. The choice to leave a job not with out it's stresses, but full of comfort and the known for something unknown and challenging was a big step. Oh sure, one can talk about changing jobs, looking for more money, needing something different, but actually doing it is all together something separate! It was so easy to complain. It was so easy to look at postings. It was even easy to send in the resume because I never thought it would come to it. Then the call came and decisions had to be made. I knew that I would take the position if they offered it, I just didn't like the feelings it would bring up. Hugs all around and 2 weeks of crying made up my last two weeks of working with pregnant women and a support staff that would have carried me through the complaining and challenges of the job for years to come. But it was my time and I owed it to myself to try. No more babies to rock and love. One last birth to attend to make the change even harder.
I learned that you feel much more appreciated when you are about to change. Almost as though I was put on a pedestal, the connections I made deepened with the girls I worked with. I thought to myself, "All this praise now, why couldn't they have said all this before?" But all was said and done and I left on good terms.
I am now a civil servant, with a desk and an office. I still impact people's and children's lives in a very important way in that I am part of a regulatory system for people working in early childhood. I have a flexible schedule and get to travel offsite a bit. I am still teaching and assessing, just in a different way.
AND... I feel broken. It is a difficult thing, having to learn a whole new set of rules. I am the novice now, where I was the expert only six weeks ago. Today I had to redo one task three times, because why do it the easy way when you can do it the hard way? All this change - it's a good thing for me, I know it is.
Other changes? Well we have decided to renovate our basement. In fact, we gutted it down to the cement. This meant cleaning, shuffling, moving items, getting rid of things storing others and purchasing new items. In all the kerfuffle I bumped a table and off fell one of my favourite tea cups. I am amazed that there was only one fatality, but I am sad it had to be this one. So, with change there has to be a bit of loss, and I am experiencing some loss of the familiar, loss of space, loss of a feeling of confidence and the loss of a tea cup. And also, where has the time gone?!
I'm ok with all the change, because after all, it is the only certainty in life. Wish me luck and resilience!

Humour

2009-11-07T08:38:00.000-08:00

So I have learned a few things over the last 7 years working where I do. One of the best things I have come to develop is my appreciation for joking. There are several practical jokes going on in my workplace at any given time, a few of which I am proud to say, have been conjured up by me. Thought I'd share a couple.

1. The big day for Ginger...
A coworker showed me a photo of Ginger that she asked her to get rid of. She was not a fan of this photo as her eyes were shut. Big mistake on her part to trust that we would dispose of it. One morning I wrote a fake article about how great Ginger was at rummaging through donation boxes using only her sense of touch, and maybe smell. I photocopied the article along with picture and placed it between the pages of our daily newspaper for people to discover. I had a second copy which I placed on the table in the back office, quite proud of myself indeed, when all of a sudden I slipped and fell ribs first onto the edge of a counter. Karma dude. Cracked my ribs and couldn't breathe right for 6 weeks. Made the uncontrollable laughter at the joke excrutiatingly hurty. Yes I know, those aren't real words, but the pain deserved a few new ones in it's description to emphasize the situation. I will write to the dictionary people later.
The same day, poor Ginger kept finding her photocopied face posted around the building in peculiar places with her thoughts bubbled above. Upon showing her children the article that night and telling them about her day, one child queried, "Mom, isn't that teasing?" Ginger's reply was that it was our way of showing how much we love her.

2. The write up...
During the course of a meeting I mistakenly called our cd player a "ghetto blaster". I got teased about my "80s terminology" and they joked about writing a formal complaint to my boss. A few days had passed and I forgot about this incident. I was standing in my boss's office and saw my name on a piece of paper under some other piles of paper. I tried look at it without my boss knowing. I saw the words FORMAL and COMPLAINT. It was signed by my coworker and a social worker. My face felt hot and I was trying to figure out what I had done and why it hadn't been addressed with me. It was really bothering me! I started running through scenarios in my head while she was trying to figure something out on the computer. I tried to sneak a better look and saw the words "inappropriate language". Now, knowing how sensitive I can be about these things you can imagine that I was in panic mode and feeling pretty rotten about myself. I tried once more to see what was written on the page and saw the word Ghetto and how I might be insensitive to people living in poor situations. It all hit me and I knew finally it was a joke. I pointed at the paper on her desk and said, "I think you should pull these two in here and write them up for inappropriate write ups!!!" She laughed. It took me a good few hours to get the panic out of my system. That joke worked even better than they planned!

3. Surprise pony...
A topic of discussion that was prevalent at work was how we needed to be respectful and quiet in the hallways, so as to not wake up any women on bed rest. One day a large stuffed pony came to us in donations. It came at least up to my knee. I walked down with another staff to Joan's office, had the staff open the door for me and I placed the pony on the inside to greet her the next time she walked in. Apparently the scream was heard at the front of the building. Bad girl. Bad.

4. My boss had a habit of walking into things, especially the corner of her desk. She came in one day to find pillows taped to the edges and corners of her desk.

5. Someone discovered that one of the social workers really liked Bon Jovi. My coworker couldn't let it go and photocopied a photo of him with her. I left a serious business message on her voicemail followed up with, "Whoooooa, half way theeere, Whooooooa-OH! Livin on a prayer!" We came in the next day to find head shots of ours photoshopped onto women wearing wedding dresses and on either side of Bon Jovi.

6. Found in my mail box one day: Pink Message slip. Who called: Brad Pitt. Message for: Me. Box checked: Wants to see you.

7. Missing persons...
A coworker went away for a month's vacation. As I was trying to find a place I could hook up to an internet connection, my boss gave me the master key and told me to try her office. I asked her, if during the course of my internet connection I inadvertently covered her chair in tin foil, would it still be my fault? She said definitely not. Instead of taking the tin foil route, I decided to grab an accomplice and some masking tape. I had her lay down on the floor in the office and I taped a body outline around her with a pregnant belly bump. I snagged a photo from her desk and photocopied it, blacking out her partner's face, with the heading, "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS PERSON? This person is wanted for questioning by the authorities..." I posted it in the staff bathroom.

Upon her return I received this gorgeous bamboo cup from Bangkok.

If that isn't positive reinforcement, I don't know what is!
Those are a few of the easily explained jokes. It's nice to work in a place where there is humour, and the humour has spread to other parts of my life!

Le Danse

2009-10-21T17:55:00.000-07:00

"Boy knifed, Dies" This is what stares me in the face as I eat my breakfast this morning. Whole wheat toast, 2 slices, with peanut butter - the usual. Between that and my vector cereal with skim milk, the creativity just radiates out of my pores. I glance at a few more headlines, all quite similar in nature. Right.... this is why I don't read the paper. Skip to the crossword! Quick!
So a few interesting things happened to me this week and I figure I don't need a photo of a tea cup EVERY TIME, so here I am to write about them. Also I am currently drinking a cup of tea, so the photo is there is spirit.
A few days ago I was heading to my parent's place to help with some painting. On my way there, 2 vehicles ahead of me, a truck bed opened up and 10 sheets of plywood came flying out the back end. It was a busy road but there was construction and we were limited to one lane so traffic was at a stand still. I decided to pull over and help get the sheets of plywood off the road and onto the curb. I felt pretty good about helping - here was my good deed of the day. We got them all moved and the driver yelled out a huge thanks. I jumped back in the car thinking, "Yup, I did good. I'm not even going to tell anyone about my good deed. Just gonna keep it for myself."
I started turning the wheel of the car and realized something was off. Hmmmm.... My wrist felt funny. Five minutes into the drive I realized that I sprained my wrist. I thought maybe it wasn't that bad and I went to my parent's house to do the painting. Maybe if I moved it, it would just get better. Yeah, 8 years of medical school taught me that.
Ok, no years of medical school and add a little stupidity to that. So much for a friggin good deed! By the time I got home I couldn't keep it in anymore. Let the whining commence! OOOOoooooooouch!
Had I not gone to paint though, I would not have had the fun experience of having my mom cook me lunch. About 5 minutes after she went into the kitchen I heard her scream out, "DAD! FIRE!" Apparently she put some oil in a pot to heat up while she was chopping veggies for the soup and the oil caught fire. Ruined a pot too. Eventually when we did sit down to lunch I took one spoonful from the soup made in a new pot and nudged my dad. "Hey, this taste burnt to you?" Needless to say mom was not impressed at my humour. Even after I tried to tell her the soup was good she had nothing of it. Damn! My humour always seems to get me in trouble.
Speaking of getting in trouble... I went shopping for a pair of ballet slippers today. I like to wear them at work instead of the slippers we have to wear in order to protect the babies playing on the floor. I asked the very English salesman if the sizing was the same as street shoes. In his thickest English accent he proceeded to tell me that no they were different and I needed to pick the slippers based on the type of "donse" I was going to be doing. Me and my big mouth replied, "Oh no, I will not be using them for "donse".
Pause...
He continues as if he didn't just hear me inadvertently making fun of him. I explained what they were for trying REALLY hard not to laugh and then got my arse out of there. Well it makes for a funny story which of course I am sure I will tell over and over.
Tomorrow is another day. Maybe my humour will make people laugh tomorrow instead of get me trouble. The only goal I have for this evening is to set my alarm properly for work tomorrow. OH, and I promise not to knife anyone. I am pretty sure I can handle not adding to the headlines I hate to read.

Ignorance is Bliss

2009-07-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

Deep relaxing summer sigh. It is the middle of summer holidays and the half way point always comes with both enjoyment, relaxation and trepidation of going back. What have I accomplished, what still needs to be done, what will I leave unfinished? Remember when you were a child and summer vacation felt like it went on forever? You didn't even know when school was starting again and it felt good to be happy in the moment.
It leads me to a question that has been on my mind for a while now. They say to be happy, you need to always think happy thoughts. A theory is, that even when things are falling apart around you, you should imagine them together in your mind's eye. You should even say to yourself, "I'm am happy and appreciative now that.... (insert wish here)". What is the real reality? Is ignorance REALLY bliss? Take the innocent child who doesn't know what kinds of terrible things could happen to them on the street. They are happy to the core until something or someone happens to them. When they know the possibilities their life is changed.
I have this fear of the unknown. Why am I frightened of being naive or taken advantage of? Isn't it better to "know"? But I was so happy when I didn't... Is it a real shame to go through life not knowing if someone has wronged you, or is it better to be able to keep trust in people and not know? The person who knows is often miserable. I find it an interesting concept.

I suppose I will try to take this opportunity to think positively and feel as though my "cup runneth over". And LOOK what it's running over with! These are medals from 3 of the 4 races I participated in during the last 3 months along with an espresso cup from a far away place. Thanks to a "not as far away" friend for thinking of me on his holiday!

I'm a marathoner!

2009-07-13T19:27:00.000-07:00

A bumper crop of strawberries in the garden this summer! Although they taste a tad sour, I had no problems scarfing them down with a nice cup of jasmine tea. This cup comes from Tennessee of all places, given to me by a dear friend.
The main thing going on in my life at the moment is running. I have accomplished a huge task, and that is completing a half marathon. Training unofficially began in January and somehow, some way I ended up doing it.
How did I get into running you may ask? Someone told me, "Anyone can run." I said I would prove them wrong. Here I am. I actually believe it now - anyone can run. People make lots of mistakes when they are first starting out, which is why they don't believe they can do it. For instance, they go way too fast. I started out running a 2k, almost at walking speed and received all kinds of praise. It took off from there.
Here is my break down of the half marathon experience.
5am:
OK, eat breakfast. Two eggs, two pieces toast and some yogurt. I ate well the night before so I should be ok.
6am:
ACK! Walk right into the snow blower in the garage waiting for my ride. That's going to be a big bruise later.
7am:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Start Line:
Are there REALLY this many people here? Almost 4000 people are running a half marathon today. I am nervous. It is quite warm today and I haven't had any heat training.
Mile ONE:
The crowd has pushed me to go faster than I normally do. Thank goodness for my partner who is wearing a garmin watch and she sees our pace is ridiculous. I am so excited I feel like puking.
Mile TWO:
We are heading out of the university area. I have run this strip once before. I am feeling great! Heat shmeat! Some people are passing us, but we are passing others. Neat.
Mile THREE:
We haven't stopped yet! What a great race pace! Drink up some water, appreciate the compression socks. I have no shin splints! The energy is crazy. So many people on the side of the road cheering. So many people have come out of their homes to watch. We tell them to keep clapping when they stop.
Mile FOUR:
Still feeling good. SHOOT! I realize I forgot to turn on my nike plus, which logs the run. Darn it, I don't want to stop and grab it from my ankle. Oh well.
Mile FIVE:
Boy it's getting warm. Still haven't stopped though. Maybe it's time to take a running gel to give me some quick carbs. Good that there is at least some shade.
Mile SIX:
My PARENTS! My heart rate shoots up when I see them. I run over and give them a huge hug and they cheer me on. I feel energized but I feel like crying at the same time.
Mile SEVEN:
I should have stretched more. We decide to take a quick stretch break. My knee is beginning to feel wonky. There goes another medic van... Kill me now. Why in the world is it so hot? I have been avoiding the "showers" for fear of having to run in wet shoes. I don't care anymore.
Mile EIGHT:
I have done this before. I have done this before. You can do this. I should not have taken that stretch break. Hard to keep going. It's getting REALLY hot. Thank goodness for the wet sponges. I will look forward to that cup of beer around the corner that volunteers hand out... Here comes the medic van again. Couldn't I just jump in? We eat another gel.
Mile NINE:
Had to walk for a bit and adjust my shoe. My foot feels wonky. Wait! There is another friend! She is cheering me on. I can do this! Hmmm... I seem to have forgotten to pack some advil. In fact I didn't even take the tylenol I was going to take before leaving. Where was my head? Thank goodness for people with sprinklers.
Mile TEN.
DAMN. I need to walk again. I can't find my breath. But now I see two more good friends at the side of the road and I wave my arms up. I HAVE to run by them! I can not walk. Gotta show them I'm doing it! I almost cry again. Hmmm... seems I forgot to take my puffer this morning. Really? I didn't take it before I left? REALLY? I didn't pack it WITH ME? The heat starts to choke me. "Go ahead without me." I say to my partner. "I am not leaving you", she says. I love her and curse her at the same time.
Mile ELEVEN:
There is a polka band playing. I am inspired. I polka down the street. This has made me use up too much energy. Why do I goof off like that? I start seeing people sitting on the side of the road from heat exhaustion. I keep going, even if I have to walk.
Mile TWELVE:
The long mile. The mile in the scorching heat. The mile of hell. Up hill a bit too. A volunteer on a bike asks if we are doing alright. I lie and say yes. I start to hear the fans cheering in the stadium. Another marathoner friend rides by on her bike. She gets off and runs with us for a minute, giving us hugs and encouragement. Almost there. More people on the side of the road.
Mile THIRTEEN:
A mile has never felt longer. We have had to walk quite a bit but as we walk into the stadium onto the track we run. They announce our names as we enter and it makes me smile. Around the bend, I can see the finish line. One more sprint and I cross the line. Someone takes me by the arm and pours water over my head. I can't believe I finished. I can't believe I finished a half marathon in 2 hours, 55 minutes.

Over 300 people still came in after me. I wasn't last? Really?! My goal was to finish. I accomplished that! My secondary goal was to finish in under 3 hours. I also accomplished that. I believe that had I stretched better, taken my puffer and tylenol, and if the heat wasn't so bad we would have had a much better time. But you see, now this is the curse of the runner. Now I am addicted. I never thought of myself as an athlete, but now I think I can consider it. My husband met me at the finish line and drove me home to our neighbour's pool to cool off.

What an experience.

2009-04-03T14:21:00.000-07:00

Just a short entry today, to note that Mother Nature has apparently taken a holiday. Perhaps a much needed one, what with all this winter. I took a holiday too and came back to beautiful colours of grey, brown and white all over the city.
I assumed I would be in great spirits with being away for a week, but when I realized that it snowed like crazy while we were away, well... let's just say the only melting that happened was the melt down I had this morning. Did the weather forget that it's APRIL? I think I will be calling weather's mother. Weather should be ashamed of itself.

Here is a tea cup to commemorate the winter of 2009. A season of absolutely no cross country skiing, might I add. I did however, start training for my first half marathon which included running on snow and ice, and through slush and water. It also included running in -30ºC and windchills from h- e- "double hockey sticks". I am really looking forward to some sun and the feel of runners on cleared pavement. Tomorrow morning will be my first 14 kilometre run ever.

The Peaceful Morning

2009-01-17T08:09:00.000-08:00

A deep inhalation and stretch to salute waking up on a Saturday. AAAAAAAAAH.

I have my breakfast, do a crossword puzzle, check my emails and then it's off to a nice calm morning of detoxing my house. I am on a kick to get rid of any and all chemicals and non-eco-friendliness in my fortress. Dust mites here I come. Only natural cleaners and essential oils will make me want to inhale deeply all day long.

I light a beeswax candle, put on some singalong-able music and decide that a fire in the fireplace is in order. The husband has had a very late night and knew of my plans, so he slept in the basement as not to disturb my grand morning.

"Um, honey?, Honey? Can you wake up? I need your help." He grunts and rolls over blinking his eyes. "I'm really sorry to bug you but I really do need your help upstairs." He follows me into the cavern of black smoke that is our livingroom. Windows are thrown open water is thrown in the fireplace and what follows is a ritual toxifying of my house when the flue hasn't sucked up any of the smoke from the precisely built wooden stack set on fire below it. Ash gently floats down on my living room sofa as if to say, "But I too am beautiful, just like the white clean snowflakes falling outside your window." Not only did they land on all my furniture but they found their way into my nose and eyes and ears. MMMMM. Camping.

Instead of the all natural essential oil "make me happy" morning I planned, life doled out an experience of "Glade plug ins", "Febreze" , "Smoke removal de-odourizer" and the buzzing of fans galore. Time to put a sweater on and heat the neighbourhood as well. I decided I am starting over again. I am making a different breakfast this time and I am drinking a different tea out of this cup, trying to channel the person who gave it to me. A love of yoga, interesting cups, having fun and new beginnings is what I will try to bring forth to the rest of my day. Or, I'll just go back to bed.

Writing Class

2009-01-13T19:40:00.000-08:00

"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a sick society."

This is what greets me, written on a desk as I sit down to do my five minutes of "stream of thought" writing. It's scribbled in pencil there for the world to see. What was that person thinking? I settle in and start writing. The statement hits me hard. I agree with it but can't elaborate. The juices aren't flowing yet. Brrrrr it's cold.

I play a dreaded "get to know me" game where I inevitably act the nervous act which is actually me, trying to hide the nervousness of having to meet someone new. People walk in late. This has always annoyed me. Introductions are done, ice-breaking is done. PHEW. I am feeling more comfortable now.

More stream of thought writing. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP. I think - does she not know her watch is making an irritable sound? I ask her, "Is that your watch?"

"Oh, probably," she answers. She turns it off with some difficulty. BEEP again BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.... Is her watch alarming me to something? Maybe I should be reminded how fast yet how slowly the time is ticking. Maybe I should be alarmed at how uncreative I feel at this very moment. She doesn't hear it, or she knows it will eventually turn itself off. Strangely it is as distracting as someone's cell phone going off. Now I am feeling (like I have heard someone describe it before) as though several cell phones are ringing in my life and I don't know which one to answer. Actually, maybe none of them are even for me.

SO, it's time for some creative story writing. All I can think of is that I only know how to write in the first person... and about me. How do I make up a story if all I can write about is myself? What is the block that prevents me from rattling off a great story? Why do I write in questions? Do I ever have the answers? Do I start with, "Once upon a time..."? Where is the creativity? "There was once a girl named....."

Well now I have it. "In a time of madness... and confusion...ONE GIRL... ONE PEN...ONE PAPER. In a world with books... this girl overcame the madness in a magical way. Find out what happens soon in a theatre near you."

Creative writing class ends. I feel silly. Writing is HARD! But just look at this cup - time to warm me up with some tea.

Agreements

2008-10-24T19:40:00.000-07:00

My status....
"Michelle is ... trying to break some agreements that she unconsciously made with herself."

Some values and beliefs I accepted through whatever means throughout my life are completely hindering my ability to be happy. Why did I agree to them? Where did they come from?

"I have to be thin."
Who gave me this information? Somewhere, somehow, I saw a person on TV who was thin and happy. I agreed. Someone, somewhere said, "She is so beautiful" about a thin person and I agreed. Somewhere I saw a picture and thought, "I want to be like her." I am not "her" and I am punishing myself for it every day.

"I am not good enough."
Learned from not being accepted into a particular group of friends in elementary. ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Where children do not think with adult thought processes and do not know how their actions affect others. I play this out everyday in my head.

"Men are all cheaters."
Guard yourself now and don't let yourself get too attached. You'll just be hurt in the end you know. Boy that really works for me. "70% of all Men Cheat: New Survey says!" "50% of all marriages end up in divorce." Damn newspapers.

"Couples who spend every moment together are close and have good marriages."
This is tough. My parents spend most of their time together. Why have I felt like I have failed if my partner needs time alone? Why have I agreed that quantity does a good marriage make...? This is ludicrous.

(Boy you are really getting a candid shot of me)

"I'll be happy when... ... I have a clean house, a new car, a vegetable garden, vacation time...."
Well, why can't I be happy now? And wait a minute, don't I have those things?

"I need to be a good cook and homemaker."
My role as a woman? My job for life? To keep my husband? Poppycock.

"Michelle is oversensitive."
What exactly IS oversensitivity? Just because I pick up on more things than YOU do, doesn't mean I have gone overboard. If something affects me deeply next time, instead of shedding a tear, I'll push it back even further since being oversensitive is such a negative thing.

"Crying is for sissies."
See previous rant.

"I can't do it."
Is THIS what I want my niece and nephew to grow up with?

"It matters what other people think."
That will be a hard one to break for me. Everyone has some fear of abandonment and being alone and it shows itself in many different capacities.

"I have no artistic skills"
Do I really have to keep explaining these? ONE teacher, ONE time sent a vibe and I quit trying altogether? I made an agreement with myself when my art work didn't look like anyone else's. My hand wouldn't do what my head wanted. I agreed to accept it and never try again.

We are born into the world with such a clean slate and it fills up with unconscious messages from innocent people meaning no harm and societal influences. Adults teach you how to behave, what to believe and who to be. They are trying to help, but in the process you push your instincts deeper and deeper. You agree to these things as law and never question them!

I have been trying to break these agreements for a long time and when I am unaware, they sneak back into my life and make me unhappy again. They set me up for failure and my inner judge sentences me to life in prison over and over. Once in a while, like today, I break out and advertise to the world about the injustice!

AGREEMENTS CAN BE CHANGED! TELL ONE TELL ALL! You TOO can be happy. Let it all go! Go back to the real person you are. Break the old unconscious agreements - you weren't fully aware when you made them in the first place.

This cup goes a long way back. It comes from an incredible woman who worked 3 three jobs and raised 4 kids on her own. She managed to bake and cook and keep a clean household while going through extremely hard times. I can aspire to her greatness, but I also promise to make a new agreement with myself: I do not have to do those things to be great. I already am. And so are you.

The reading...

2008-09-22T17:03:00.000-07:00

I had the opportunity recently to go have my cards read. Not the usual tarot cards by a fortune teller, but this person used numerology and a deck of playing cards. It was fascinating! Of course I take it all with a grain of salt, but I think these things can be helpful. Even if the reader is looking for facial expressions or faking their way through it, I think they have the ability to say things out loud that are "written all over your face" and that you need to address. It was very neat. So here are a few of the things she told me.

First of all, she said that I have 3 "guides" in addition to my Opa. She said I am lucky in this way because that is more than the one or two that most people have. She said one is a distant family member, my great great grandmother possibly. Another was an energy that allowed me to understand infants. Another was an earth energy from a very old soul that I may have known in a past life. She also said mine is a very old soul, that has been reincarnated over and over. In one of my past lives, I was a good friend of my Opa's during the war, and I died by a shooting. In another past life I was a member of a tribe in the 2nd century in the middle east. Apparently I have lived all over the world, but most of my time has been in Europe.

She mentioned that I should do some digging into my maternal genealogy and that I will uncover something that was lost. OOooh mysterious... She said I have a twin spirit living on the earth right now and looking into my family history may help me find that person.

She said that my Opa did things in the war he was not proud of and he wanted to show me that side of him in the dream I recently had of him. Apparently he is staying with me for another 3 to 4 years and then moving on. He talks to us through dreams or electricity, such as flickering lights and so on. She told me my Oma may disclose something to me that she has been harbouring for a long long time.

She told me that I would be making a career change and asked me if I ever thought about midwifery. Wow... She said I would be traveling and working with healing women either postpartum, or things to do with hormones or herbs and herbal remedies. She said I would be struggling at work unless I was able to clear my energy with a crystal (citrine or amethyst) or bell or something. She said I have a different frequency than most people and I take on their energies as my own and experience their problems as my own. Apparently I need to find a way to let my own energy out to feel whole. She said I need to meditate more and think of my energy as coming up from my feet. The woman said that through finding my own energy and traveling the world doing this new kind of work I will develop my sense of self security and know who I really am.

Then she said that my energy was being blocked around the reproductive system and the digestive system. She said that whatever pains I was having that the doctors couldn't diagnose would dissipate when I was able to clear my aura/energy. She suggested a flush or detox to help with this and said I'd be ok.

She mentioned my parents and that the responsibility for them would fall to me as my sibling would be distant. She said that in 8 years there would be a situation. She said I would be fine with all of this. She mentioned my niece and that her parents may have some communication problems with her, but that she tuned into sounds and song to calm her. She said that I would become close with her around the age of 2.

Then she started talking about my relationship and she said it would be a bumpy road. It kind of upset me, but she said that we would be either parting ways when one of us had enough, or we would stay together and have many hardships. Ugh. She said that my husband is not on the path he should be on and a crisis will refocus him. She also said that he should aggressively look for a new job in 9 months, even if it isn't on the career path he is on now.

She said I would be succeeding in whatever I do. She told me that I should trust my instincts instead of second guessing myself.

This woman gave me a huge hug after all was said and done - after knowing me for only an hour! What a fun experience, and hey, even if you don't believe in this stuff, it sure gives you something to think about! Some of it was very relevant for me as it may be for anyone. I choose to interpret it in a way that reflects me and my life, thinking positive about what I agree with and working on changing what I disagreed with :) What a great once in a lifetime thing!

Thank you to my beautiful cousin (who deserves a whole page written about her one day) who had a hand in the whole thing. I bought the cup above while out bonding with her one day.

Some More Family History

2008-09-14T08:38:00.000-07:00

As of late, I have been thinking a lot about my Oma; the one on my mother's side who lives here in the same country. She turned 90 this year and has had a life of struggles, some of which I have written about before. I have heard bits and pieces of her story, but never the whole story. The thing is, I am not sure anyone who has lived through a war cares to talk about it in any great detail. It puts me in a bit of a quandary because I have seemed to be on a quest to learn about the war since I was little. Maybe it would help me put together why my family is the way it is, or give me a history, good or bad, but mine. Every book or movie that tells the German side of the war story draws me in, no matter how violent or sad.

In talking to Oma recently she told me the story of when my Opa came back from the war. The country was in ruins, people were starving and trying to rebuild their communities. Speakers on the radio would announce names of soldiers returning from prison camps throughout the day, making for some wonderful reunions. Some women assumed their husbands were dead, since they hadn't heard anything for years and moved on without them, remarrying and starting new lives only to find themselves in a confusing situation upon the return. Some women would walk the train stations with signs taped to their backs asking, "Have you seen this person?" My Oma tells me she was faithful and waited many years not knowing whether Opa had died or not.

The day he arrived, Oma had missed the radio announcement with his name on it. She was unaware that he was returning, but dreamt of him that exact night. She says she must have felt it, because the next time she opened the door he was standing there. All the men coming home were suffering from extreme malnutrition and had a long way ahead of them in terms of physical recovery, not to mention emotional recovery. The few Germans in charge during the war that were called Nazis, did not take care of their soldiers. By the way, most Germans were not Nazis and did not believe in the war, but were forced at gun point to join or were completely brainwashed. Most people assumed all Germans believed in the war and associated the word German with Nazi, a very sad stereotype.

My Oma was fortunate enough to have worked for a pharmaceutical supplier doing paperwork during that time and tells me her boss was so generous that he snuck her all the pills and supplements needed to help my Opa recover and become stronger. Most people didn't have that option and didn't recover as quickly as he did. The expensive pills worked and he was feeling great within 6 months. In 4 years he was back to normal, in good health and strong. FOUR YEARS?

Apparently my Opa had a great sense of humour. During his recovery, a time of poverty and shame for Germans everywhere, they coped by trudging through. Alcohol, cigarettes, jokes and partying played a huge role for people trying to forget. One day my Oma told me that Opa went to the store with the little money they had, and he picked out a few things they needed. When he got to the counter to pay with his items, the clerk asked, "ONE roll of toilet paper?" My Opa smirked and said, "Oh, yeah, we won't be shitting much this week."

I dreamt a graphic dream about my Opa the other night. It was the first time I ever saw him so vividly in my dreams and I hugged him and stared at his face. The dream turned very sour at the end and left me asking, why? Instead I am appreciating now the fact that I saw him. Later my mom told me that it had been his birthday that day. He was born on September 13, 1907 and would have been 101 years old. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

It is a shame that millions of people still feel the effects of that particular war (and others still going on, but that's another whole topic). I don't think you can be German and not carry a certain guilt in you, whether you lived through it or not. So I think about my Oma, as of late, and think how can I make her old age just a little better? She is the way she is because of the horrific experiences and no matter how safe and comfortable she is in this new country, those don't go away. We may find her difficult to deal with and we may not understand her moods or actions but maybe they are all a part of her that is the coping with things no one should have to cope with. Having said that I feel I can't mention all of this without mentioning that it is my mom who takes care of her everyday now and that is not an easy task.

Oma is proud, that at age 90, she has finally become a Canadian. Congratulations, Oma! In fact she has told us all about how wonderfully she speaks English, thanks to reading children's stories to her grandchildren and taking English classes at age 50. The other day she told me about 2 other German women living in her building. In her thick luscious German accent she says to me, "Zey don't even know how to speak Englisch. Ven Zey say ze numba Sree, zey say, 'TREE'." Oh if she only knew that they speak exactly like she does.

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE to my Oma and all that are around her, for even if I laugh now at her quirky ways and vow never to be that way, I am sure I will do it unconsciously anyway. Do you realize that when a female infant is born, she is born with all the eggs she is ever going to release throughout her whole lifetime? That means I began the life journey in my grandmother's womb.

Summer 2008

2008-08-20T09:22:00.000-07:00

YAY! I celebrate life today!
(I had coffee with hazelnut coffee creamer, so the world looks amazing at the moment)

I had a very full summer this year. It included a trip to Calgary with a girlfriend. Two hours after we got in the car and started driving, I felt an odd feeling in my throat. Yup, a doozy of a cold followed - one of the worst ones I have had in a long while. So, for the duration of trip which my cold put quite the damper on, I was renamed, "Typhoid Mary". Excellent.

I also had the opportunity to drive down to the Black Hills for a few days. I highly recommend it. There is much to see and do! We saw Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse and drove through Bear Country. Here is a tea cup I saw while there:

I resisted buying it...

Next stop: Edmonton. One word for you, "Spamalot".

If you have never watched a Monty Python episode or movie, it's ok. You should still go see the Broadway show called Spamalot, which is based on the movie, "The holy Grail". Now THIS, this is my kind of humour. Nonsense, farcical, mocking society mixed with really goofy funny dancing is my idea of a good time.

Somehow, I managed to fit some more things into this summer, including movies, books, 2 small family reunions, 2 bathroom redecorations, running and baseball. We also almost became part Swedish, considering how much money was spent at IKEA. I am now in the last stretch of the summer and trying to make sure my head is on straight before work starts again.

I know all these things are not very interesting to the reader, especially if you don't know me. I'd like one day to compile some stories with the cups and organize them into a memory book. Though the self-absorbed writings of one woman's thoughts and activities here don't seem to have that quality needed for a "memoir", it is all I have. This is the only story that is mine to write, so I will keep on. Some entries will be extremely mushy and some boring. Some will have their funny moments and maybe some will see me struggling. But, I suppose that is what life is all about. A log of my life, as cushy as it is. And maybe just maybe, the one person that reads this in oh 50 years from now will say, "Oh, that was a sign of the times, how people thought back then." Haha, ok I am sure there will be many other more interesting and well written things to read in 50 years. In reality I know for sure no one will find this in 200 years and marvel at this story. There will be no studying of the tea cup philosophy, one anonymous woman's brilliant take on life! Hmmm... one can dream...
HAHA!

Hope everyone else had a good summer as well.

Betcha didn't know...

2008-07-22T18:38:00.000-07:00

As I sit in the car on my 14 hour-long drive today, I have time to myself. My husband is asleep in the back seat and I listen to the radio and my thoughts. Just who is this person in the driver’s seat? Well, I can tell you all the annoying little habits and quirks I have that make up “ME”.

For one, I sing to the radio. I sing whether I know the words or not. I make up the words. I fake it and sound ridiculous and I don’t care. When I am too lazy to fake it, I sing, “Meow meow,” to every word, a good tip learned from 2 funny ladies. I think I have a great voice and can sing, but sadly do not, and can’t. I secretly love karaoke but know I am terrible at it. I will try to sing without moving my mouth if you are looking at me in the car in the next lane!

I talk to myself out loud when making decisions. For instance, “Should I take this exit ramp? Should I turn here? Oh, hmmm.” Rhetorical questions, sometimes which I immediately answer, and sometimes I want input from others. This drives my husband mad because sometimes the answers are obvious. I do it nonetheless.

I belong to the Peeler Enthusiasts Club. NO, this has nothing to do with …ahem… the removal of clothing. I pick at scabs and peel dry skin and have endless supplies. I have to hold back from doing it to other people. Yes, it’s gross. A terrible obsession, especially, when in public.

I think you don’t understand me and no one ever will. Well that’s on a bad day.

I will openly and loudly tell an object to “F off”, or shut up (or any other expletive that comes to mind in the moment) if it happens to fall from my hands at an inopportune moment. I may also scream and jump whether it falls near my feet or not. I will gasp and yell if I stub my toe, bump into a wall, or trip even if it didn’t hurt. Do objects have feelings? I may have hurt many a knife’s feelings in the process of making supper.

I twirl my hair.

If I don’t have plans to be anywhere or see anyone I will spend the day in bed.

I don’t put my dishes in the dishwasher. I am happy to let them sit on the counter until I need clean dishes, or unless someone is scheduled to come over. This incessantly annoys me, but I don’t do anything about it. Also, my office is usually a mess. Some people at work tell me I am so organized; I must have a spotless house. Hmmm.

At work, I have a plethora of information about infant development and parenting techniques. Under my breath I wonder when I will be found out as an imposter who really doesn’t know a thing at all.

I love martial arts, superhero or action movies. Something about the strength in a person attracts me. I often wish I had some power that I could save people with. I stay away from “chick flicks” or romances. I have banned soap operas like the plague. I am too scared that I will displace these stories to real life, and it will make me hold unrealistic expectations for real people in my life therefore disappointing me. Ditto goes for love songs.

I hate sayings like, “Avoid that like the plague”.

I wish I could come up with a great metaphor.

I want to take care of people but never know what to do to make someone feel better. This is usually true for the people I love most in my life.

I hate being imitated or copied with a passion, yet I try to emulate friends that I think are cool. I desperately want to be unique, but realize that I am the same as everyone else. Also – I think you are cooler than I am.

I am in love with tattoos and piercings and wish I had way more than I do. I had my tongue pierced for years. I love coloured hair and choppy, messy haircuts. I like loud angry death metal music and the energy and buzz of that kind of rock/drug culture yet I dress conservatively with a plain-jane haircut, stay clean and still listen to Cold Play or Jack Johnson. I also want to be a hippie. Maybe in my next life.

I hate country music. I will make you change the station.

I secretly think I am a hypochondriac. Whenever I have any type of symptom I think I am making it up. Well, until of course I end up in the hospital.

I hide the fact that I disagree with you sometimes. I try to give you the benefit of the doubt. I try to like the things you do. I am indecisive but I know what I like. I am just trying to please you.

I am annoyed easily and have no patience. I am rude to you sometimes. Mostly it’s because I am self absorbed and lost in my thoughts. I am as insecure as the next person. I take everything personally. If you do not talk to me, I will assume you do not like me. If you talk to me I will be your best friend.

I refuse to have 2 showers in one day.

I have atomically deadly gas, but so silent, if there are more than 3 people in the room you will never know it came from me. Well, now you do. My apologies.

I analyze. I need to know why something happens so I can make sense of it and sit peacefully with it.

I love intensely. To a fault.

I secretly wish I were a small skinny 5 foot 7 woman instead of my 5 foot 10 stature. I want to lose 10 pounds at all times. This is silly because I know I am also beautiful. I want to be able to run around braless. Trust me, I shouldn’t.

I am a drama-queen and tired of it.

I enjoy a good joke and belly laugh and I am constantly trying to make you laugh even though you don’t understand my humour.

When I say, “I don’t care”, I REALLY don’t care.

I do not want children. I cannot stand being around strangers’ children. I passionately crave a close relationship with my niece who is only 4 months old. I dream that we will have something in common when she grows up. When she is in the room I unabashedly lay claim. I want to give her the world. She can do no wrong in my eyes.

I am terrified of spiders.

I collect teacups. Well you knew that already. I may or may not keep them after I am done writing about them. You need to know that before you give me one. This teacup was made in Germany and given to me by an extended family member. She gave me a little piece of me - it feels good when people think of you!

I want to tell people everything I know. In reality I wish that I was more of a mystery than an open book. I want to be anonymous, but I want to know who reads my words. Why can’t I have my cake and eat it too? As I decide to publish this latest entry, picture me blushing beet red.

Being a Grown Up Sucks.

2008-06-14T07:16:00.000-07:00

I used this tea cup in my last post and have now decided to switch it up and use it here. A beautiful cup, but it really looks like how I feel lately - limp and floppy and upside down.

What's bothering me lately? Well out of respect to the people reading and to the parties involved I will not vent details here except to say I have got some stupid personal struggles that I am going through and they are hard. I suppose that is what life is about but I am telling you it sucks. I am in a state of anxiety, sadness, guilt, resentment and depression several times a day. I know there is an end to it, but the way there is taking too long. All of my shortcomings as a person are really showing themselves to me and I don't like it. I am building barriers and getting stuck in them. I am hurt.

I also had another short vacation at the hospital a few weeks ago. Appendix you ask? Nope, "don't gots". Gall stones? Nope, "don't gots". I have got ovarian cysts and a uterus full of fibroids. I am looking down the tunnel of Destination Hysterectomy. Another freaking surgery. Oh, and more pain because every 3-4 months one of my cysts will rupture causing anywhere from little discomfort to mind killing pain. Now don't get me wrong - I am not feeling sorry for myself because there are so many people out there with the same problem and this is not life threatening. And I rather enjoyed wailing like a banshee in Emergency while the nurses all chatted and visited at the nurses' station. That was great. Good times.

Please get me a big helmet. Life sucks.

On top of it all my work has been extremely busy and there hasn't been even one moment to breathe. My saving grace is that I have two weeks left until summer vacation; time in which to deal with my life. The other thing that has brought me through is running. Running you say??? ME? A Runner???

You heard me. I started running at the park in February while it was still cool outside. I started with a friend, who cheered me on while running 2 kilometers. It took about 15 minutes and I almost died. I hated it, and thought there was no way I would be able to do that again. Well here I am today and I am running 10 kilometers on my next run for the first time. I never enjoyed any type of cardio exercise in my life before. In fact, if you will remember back to your school days to the endurance run, you can picture me as the last student walking with a stitch in her side to finish the track while all the other students are already half way back to the school. Whenever we had a substitute gym teacher I told them I have asthma so "I can't run". HAH.
Even in my years of trying to go to the gym to get in shape I never felt that "high" about exercise that everyone else claimed to. But now since I have been running up to 8 kms I feel it. My confidence levels have boosted and after every run I actually feel happier than I did before. It is now a coping strategy for me. The goal is to run 3 times a week but I usually get in 2 per week. I can run non-stop for an hour or more on a good day.

If only now I could keep up with the yoga practice. I think that the running is taking over because I am not wanting to do any of the soul searching or mindfulness that yoga brings out in me. Maybe I am afraid of what will come out of it. I really feel like I need to be pushed to my limit physically and still survive.

The nice thing is that I feel very supported by those around me. One day I hope to return the favour.

The Colours of Birth

2008-05-17T15:08:00.000-07:00

I had the privilege of being present at a birth recently as a doula. I have taken some training for this - it is like a labour companion. A doula offers the birthing family support, emotionally and physically. The doula can help with coping and enduring the intensity of labour. They are a constant in the woman's experience, never leaving them alone.

The birthing experience is so precious and beautiful and it is such a letting go of everything just to get to the final result. I have such admiration for women everywhere who go through this process. This oriental tea cup was given to me in thanks for the experience and it deserves much recognition! There are two beautiful women in the picture representing the journey, but don't worry dads, we know you are of the utmost importance as well.

So I wrote a little something about the birth I was at and I hope that this family doesn't mind that it is being shared, for it is their story.

The Colours of Birth

Blue was “arrival” at the hospital. Blue for calm. Blue for serenity. Blue for a mother labouring. Reminders of calm blue ocean. Blue for the melody of the coping song.

Green moved them to the labour and delivery room. Green for mother nature, green for uniforms and sacredness, green for freshness. Green for anticipation. The body hugging a baby. Green for a walk down the hallway with a few stops for hugging a doula.

Purple was for the moment that Norah Jones played on the stereo. Purple was for the caring husband who told the story of a proposal. Purple for a slow dance.

Yellow came in with a parade, commanding contractions to honour it’s presence, one on top of the other. Yellow was demanding. Yellow brought help. Yellow brought the calm back. Yellow helped to take a rest before the big work had to be done.

Orange threatened to stay a while. Orange brought progression. Orange was filled with intensity. Orange wanted to have a baby born. Orange was warm. Orange was a face cloth, chilled, to the forehead. Orange for beauty and coping. Orange prepared the body for an amazing feat.

Red came on fierce, powerful and feminine. Red was the moment of pushing and the state of calm between pushes. Red demanded rest. Red was routine. Red saw a birthing warrior shed all, for her baby. Red was for teamwork. Red brought a mother’s strength and determination.

Pure white light brought a baby girl, innocently into the world. White saw a face of relief, shock, amazement and awe. White saw a baby on a mother’s chest and a father being born. White blankets, white cloths wiping baby, bright white lights seeing a father touch his child. Pure, healing, energy filled clean white light.

Pink was the skin of a beautiful 9lb 5oz baby girl. Soft and pink. Pink for a mother nursing for the first time. Pink for a family, pink for a cry. Pink for change, pink for the end of something and the start of something. Pink for peace for the journey. Pink for Emily.

A Ray of Sunshine and Peace for the Journey

2008-04-07T18:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Sophia,

At 9:00 a.m. on the day you were born I was heading to a class called “Birthing from Within” - a Prenatal class that I wanted to sit in on to help my knowledge and skills at work.
At 9:15a.m. I got a call on my cell phone from your Uncle that you were sending signals to your mama that you were ready to start your life’s journey.
At 10:00a.m. your Opa called me to tell me you were on your way.
At 11:00a.m. I learned that not only is a baby being born, but a mother, a father and grandparents were also being born. A “Tante” or aunty is being born. A family is being re-born.
At 12:00 noon on the day you were born your Opa told me you were playing hard to get. I learned that you had many people there with you as you were working so hard.
At 1:00p.m. on the day you were born I remembered watching your first ultrasound video and discovering you were a girl. That was the moment when I knew that I loved you so deeply, even though I never met you.
At 3:00p.m. the sun was shining bright.
At 5:00p.m. your Mama was courageous enough to ask for help. She knew what she had to do to help you on your journey.
At 6:30p.m. I spoke to your dad and heard the excitement in his voice. I got in my car and I was on my way. I spoke to you from the car.
At 7:30p.m. your Mama was smiling and eating ice chips.
At 8:25p.m. you asked your Mama for help. You went into a sacred room and many people helped you to be born. I called your Oma and Opa and your big brother.
At 8:50p.m. I said to your Grandma, I think she is being born right now. I sent you strength! You spent time with your Dad for a whole hour.
At 10:00p.m. I was allowed to come and see you. You were pink and soft and I held you close. Your Mama had a big job ahead of her to feel better.
At 10:15p.m. I held you up to your Mama’s cheek and she kissed you, smelled you, and told you how much she loves you.
At 10:30p.m. I massaged your feet and you smiled. I held you and rocked you for a long time.
At 10:50p.m. I gave you back to your Dad and wrapped you tightly one more time.
At 11:00p.m. on the day you were born, I knew I loved you very much and I wished you peace for your life’s journey. I looked forward to seeing you again soon!

Love your "Tante"

Eco Palindromes

2008-03-23T13:27:00.000-07:00

My Ecological footprint....
Apparently, if everyone lived the way I do, we would need 2.5 planets to sustain us. Eh, Canada had an ache? Most Canadians live like I do or worse…
Dammit I’m mad. That is a D on my report card. Can I attain a C?
In my palindrome theme, I am here to tell you what I am doing about it.
So. Did you know it takes way more of the earth’s resources to produce meat than it does for anything else? Read this:

…raising animals for food damages the environment more than just about anything else that we do. Whether it's the overuse of resources, unchecked water or air pollution, or soil erosion, raising animals for food is wreaking havoc on the Earth.

I’m not saying everyone should go vegetarian, but for me, go hang a salami, I’m a lasagna hog. Veggie lasagna that is. I have stopped eating pork, chicken and red meats, but for protein’s sake I am still having sustainable fish and eggs. It’s not a tug at a gut because it is also one step closer to the whole “non-violence” principle of Yoga. I just feel better about doing this because Lord knows I have many other “sins”. We panic in a pew.

Yo, banana boy, along with eating veggie, I have been buying only organic fruits and vegetables that are locally grown. Also, we use phosphate free soaps and detergents. No more products containing mineral oils and by-products of petroleum enter this household. No, I don’t feel like an oozy rat in a sanitary zoo these products are just fine. Better for you in fact.

So call me Dr. Awkward for bringing this up, but here is an interesting little fact for women only… did you know that if you use a Diva Cup during your *moon time* you save money and none of that other stuff fills up our rivers and landfills???

What else am I doing? Well, rarely do I have use for the old type of light bulbs. Never even, so we have replaced them all with energy efficient ones. Why is it that I overheard someone say, “I’m going to stock up on the old light bulbs before they don’t sell them anymore. I’m not paying an arm and a leg for those energy efficient ones.” Huh? Am I loco, Lima? I guess that person just didn’t get it. It’s actually SAVING you money. Och, I'm too hot to hoot. Dumb Mud. I bet they don’t even know how to use a composter… of which I have two. Speaking of energy efficiency, we just replaced most of our appliances with ones that have the energy star on them.

I have also decided that almost every piece of clothing I buy from now on will be made of organic materials. I have a top spot for all my purchases. Did you know they make towels and sheets out of hemp now too?

Have I mentioned recycling yet? Murder for a jar of Red Rum! And you’d better believe that jar will go into the blue box along with all of our papers, tin cans and other items. I do not buy bottled water. Don’t nod sarcastically, I believe that tap water is just as good and I’m not getting any chemicals from plastics leaching into my system. Hmmm, if chemicals could leach into my system what the heck are they doing for the planet? Not a ton. Sheesh. The Devil never even lived. It is us who are ruining the planet for everyone!

So I am making a conscious effort. It’s still not enough though. Some things I need to change. I have decided never to buy books brand new again. Hmmm, to borrow or rob? No no, borrowing books will get me through just as well as buying, and hey if it’s a really good one, well, hey maybe you lent it to someone else? I don’t seem to know that one. Wink Wink.

My biggest problem is the transportation aspect of life. Our city sure doesn’t make it easy to cycle or take public transit to your destination. I must admit I drive to work every day. Call it for what it is, a Toyota’s a Toyota. I tried cycling to work a few times way back but not knowing how to take care of my bike held me back. I should take a class on bicycle maintenance. I do, however, drive a small compact car, which is good on gas.

One more thing… what was it that I saw that reminded me of this? Was it a bar or a bat I saw? Was it a car or a cat I saw? Was it Eliot’s toilet I saw? No, it was the toilet out at the lake, and the owners who said cheerfully, “If it’s yellow, keep it mellow. If it’s brown, FLUSH IT DOWN!”
Water conservation at it’s finest.

So to tie it all together, there are tons of simple things that we can do to keep our planet’s resources in check… It’s just plain easy to do most of them and there is no excuse. I am striving to better myself and sadly I am doing more than the majority. But it’s still not enough. I hope that in one year from now I will have changed many more habits and learned more about what I can do!

Oh boy... a bit of ranting. Warning: Movie spoiler for Gone Baby Gone

2008-03-14T16:55:00.000-07:00

Why am I so darn sad this week?

I have been behaving immaturely and negatively lately and the play by play in my head keeps asking, "Why did that just happen? Is this who I want to be?" I have been complaining and picking others apart for everything. It seems I am focusing on everything but me, but I am being selfish at the same time. What is it that I am avoiding? I keep blaming it on silly things like the weather, my job, my *moon* time... But really when it comes down to it, I still have the choice to treat people with respect and have a positive attitude. I suppose I am CHOOSING not to at the moment. How the heck does THAT happen? I am bitter.

I have felt this way before and surprise, it was at the same time of year. Someone told me today about the idea of "weather rage" instead of "road rage" and I suppose that could partially be my problem. It was cold AGAIN and snowy. My previous efforts of enjoying winter failed miserably, even though I had such high hopes. We had temperatures of -50ºC with the windchill in January and February. Should I scream yet? Maybe if I just write aimlessly we can get to the bottom of this together.

I think maybe I could also be suffering from a bit of "vicarious trauma" from the work I do. I usually do a great job of not taking it home with me but it is always clear to me that my view of the world is completely different because of what I am surrounded by everyday. I watched a movie called "Gone Baby Gone" and at the end there is a decision that has to be made about whether to place a child in a risky situation, but with her biological parent, or to place the child in a safe environment never to know her biological family again. At first I thought the child should be with the real mom. I was, in my mind, sticking up for all the women I work with. Then, shockingly my husband disagreed and said if I really had to make that choice he thought I would change my mind. Really? I struggled with this in my head up to today. I don't know the answer and frankly I am glad I never have to make that choice so I just now decided to stop thinking about it.

But honestly, I am seeing only the negative in my environment. Our city has the third highest rate of crime in the country. I suppose it is all relative, but teenage pregnancy seems to be on the rise and children are having babies. I drive through a bad part of town everyday and see kids with no jackets or no supervision walking on the streets. I know there are drug houses and huge addictions out there. I know what this does to people and the atrocities that happen out there. There is not a thing I can do about it. It is not my job to save the world. Is this how the world is supposed to be? When do I stop being the generation that makes the culture? When did I stop having a say? Ignorance is bliss... why do I have to know the things I know? But who am I to decide what's really right and wrong?

I find myself separating from the younger generation and really noticing the differences. Like for instance, no one is talking on the phone anymore. No one drops by for a visit. No one nods hello out in public. They are all on their cell phones looking down at the ground, shutting out human contact. Why is it easier to be antisocial? Do we not need one another anymore? We are isolating ourselves more than we know. Do you know that kids in school and daycares are never hugged by their teachers for fear of being accused of wrongdoing? Do you also know that the largest organ of the human body is the skin and if you do not have the sense of touch you can't survive? Skin to skin contact - even a pat on the arm - stimulates the production of good hormones that help you to self-regulate, which means you are calmer, in control and thinking clearly. We don't even allow caregivers to give this gift to our children for fear they will be taken advantage of. They are losing out. So am I.

And what is happening to the English language now that "txt msging" has become popular!? I must admit I fall victim to the attraction of online messaging. But I seem to keep the language and typing to my age group. There is a certain etiquette I keep, making sure always to greet and say goodbye. Why do I not get this in return?

Well this ranting brings me to yesterday's events, when I hosted a retirement tea for the very person that encouraged me to write and appreciate tea cups in the first place. It was really touching to see all my cups out for everyone to use and I really enjoyed how people picked their favourite ones. Here is my revelation. The presence of this woman will not be at my workplace now that she is retired and I feel a sense of responsibility to keep part of her energies there. This is too much pressure that I have put on myself and maybe I am rebelling! It is not that I have put her on a pedestal; none of us are perfect, it is only that I admired her connections with the people there, including me. I feel I am too wrapped up in myself all the time to feel inspired and awed by other people and when I do notice, there is some envy involved. That is not the way to go about it! But then again, I can't beat myself up for not living life the way other people do as they have their own struggles. But how can I go on, being who I need to be at work if I keep dwelling on the negative?

SO here I am still complaining, still having evil thoughts about everyone and everything. We were left yesterday with a sense of the power of words. One in particular in it's latin form: AEQUANIMITAS... the personal quality of calmly accepting whatever comes in life. Funny how I am fighting everything coming my way this week... hopefully purging the words to this blog will take the power away and I will stop the cycle I have begun.

Phew. I am finished and that was draining. I suppose I was trying to find myself, but I am going to go appreciate the power of words and lose myself now in a book. And I suppose I should go have a cup of tea just because. Mmmm. Kombucha Green tea. It's going to be consumed from this mug, not quite a tea cup but worthy of the blog because it came from a good friend. Thanks for going on this journey with me.

Aqua Cup

2008-03-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

The Aqua Cup...
I got this all the way from South Padre Island and since it is light and lively and silly, I am forcing myself to snap out of my gloomy mood of late and tell a funny story.

A month ago, I was driving in my car listening to the radio on the way home from work and they were having a contest. People were to call in with their best/worst Valentine's Day story. I thought, boy do I have a great one... but it took me several days to actually grab my cell phone and call in.
I don't know what came over me but I got the courage somewhere. I called in one morning and asked, "Do you still need a Valentine's Day story?" The DJ said no, he had one for the morning, but could I tell him my story anyway?
So here's what I told him:

"I had been dating a fellow for a few weeks when he asked me to go out to an expensive restaurant for Valentine's Day. I got all fancied up and actually wore a dress that was backless...(gasp). He was in a suit and tie and we went out. I had the duck. It was a very nice meal and the first time I had ever been to a 5 star restaurant. After dinner I thought we would head back to his place for a nice quiet evening together, but when we got there all of his friends soon arrived. I thought, well, no big deal, we had a nice dinner.
Well, the friends all decided it was a good idea to go to a lounge to have some drinks. I didn't have a change of clothes, so I went in my fancy dress and felt pretty darn uncomfortable. At the lounge, the friends commented that they knew the waitress and were making a few jokes about it. She was extremely rude and I couldn't figure out why. I easily forgot about it and tagged along back to the guy's house. EVERYONE slept over that night. I think we even watched "The Shining".
We woke in the morning to a phone call, and the guy clearly dealing with a situation. He told me it was his ex girlfriend.
Again, oblivious to what had actually taken place I went along my merry way, feeling a little embarrassed about being overdressed for the night before.
A few weeks later after I had decided he really wasn't the guy for me. I met with a friend who recently was hired on at that lounge. We put two and two together: The phone call that morning was from his CURRENT girlfriend who was our waitress on Valentine's Day.
Who takes a girl to his girlfriend's place of work on Valentine's Day? And one that is so dressed up... I must have looked like a call girl! HAH!

This gentleman's characteristics definitely left an imprint. The other "interesting" fact about him was that he had an aquarium in his basement with two piranha fish in it. The one fish attacked the other and bit his eye off. So everytime we went to his house he would ask if I wanted to go downstairs to see his "one-eyed piranha". Conclude from that what you will. Hmmm... aqua cup...

In any case, the radio DJ told me he would love to use my story the next day and I could call in. I called in the next morning, he took my information and they played the recorded story from the day before. I ran into work and listened to it. He told me it was a draw for the prize, but I somehow knew I would win. I made one mistake though - I gave my home number instead of my cell phone number. So on Valentine's Day I listened to the DJ on the radio call the "winner", and my answering machine answered with my voice telling them the number they just phoned.... I madly grabbed my cell phone and called in. Thank goodness I did because the message they left on the machine was that I won but since I wasn't there they would give it to someone else!!!

So I won a DIAMOND RING, a passion party (which is basically a dirty party, and I didn't use it) and a one night stay at a nice hotel with chocolate covered strawberries and sparkling wine, and breakfast. So thanks to this character for giving me a great story to tell and also for helping me to run into my current husband's arms. We'll enjoy that mini vacation at the hotel soon :)

Go call your mom, tell her thanks.

2008-03-01T17:16:00.001-08:00

My life at the moment revolves around motherhood. No, I am not a mother myself, by choice. I have chosen not to have my own children, but to work with children and babies and their parents. I see the miracles that mothers create every day in the faces of the newborns I work with. I am surrounded by many different mother figures in my life and I am learning so much from them.
My mother's mother is teaching us all a lesson about what it's like to be 90 years old. The learning never stops. We were all frightened when my Oma went into the hospital a few weeks ago and flatlined for 30 seconds because of a problem with her blood pressure. She told us that during this episode she got warm all over and saw a bright light. GASP... When she spoke to the nurse afterwards she noted that she thought she was going straight to hell because of the heat she felt and she laughed! What a courageous thing to go through. To be able to find the humour in it, astounds me. The strength that lies in the women in my family is enormous. My other Oma is 96 years old and holding on to life despite all the health issues coming her way.
Where would I be without having mothers in my life?
My own mother taught me so much. She taught me all the basics! Can you believe all the things you learn from your mother, just by watching? My mother taught me how to dress myself, wash myself, feed myself, how to do laundry and how to care for myself. She taught me how to change the bed sheets, hitting the pillows in just the right way to re-shape them and refresh them! I learned how to peel potatoes and tie my shoes. My mother taught me language and social skills. She taught me how to thread a needle, dial a phone, how to be responsible. She taught me to respect people and things, she taught me my colours and numbers. She showed me how to live on my own, how to pay my bills. Good mothers do these things automatically and without thanks. They deserve so much for giving their lives to us children.
The new mothers I work with teach me survival, patience, resilience and persistence. They teach me that they need to make their own mistakes in order to learn new things. They teach me how to guide them through difficult times. They teach me that I will never stop learning.
My mother in law taught me how to accept a new person into a family with grace and respect. How difficult it must be to step back and watch a son grow up and take on a new woman in his life! My mother in law taught me about sharing family values and appreciating differences. I may not always agree with the mothers in my life, but that is another lesson I have learned from them. It is okay to have a difference in opinion.
I will soon be having a tea in honour of one mother's journey into retirement; the woman who inspired me to collect tea cups and write about them in the first place. Even though I did not work directly with her most of the time, just knowing she was in the building seemed to have an effect on me and the many others she touched. The nice thing is that my own mother gave me this tea cup in a set of 4 for the occasion.
Thanks mom! And thanks for teaching me how to learn more about life!

WINTER

2008-01-19T12:37:00.000-08:00

WINTER. My most hated of seasons. And I don't mean winter, I mean WINTER. You know, icicles on your eyelashes, burning throat and singing nose hairs as you breathe, glasses fogging up every exhale, all the bones in your body feel ready to snap type WINTER. Car gets stuck every 6 feet, eyes tear up in the wind and tears freeze to your face, chapped lips, ear aching WINTER.
So on a mission to enjoy WINTER, a friend and I set out to go find out about some cross country ski lessons. We actually signed up. It's easy to sign up for something that doesn't start for a few weeks. We had intended on going ice skating that day as well. Intended. We ended up eating sushi and shopping. Oh, hey - I bought a tea cup. Surprise, surprise!

As you can guess I am not much of an ice skater anyway. In fact I only started to learn as an adult and as I got more courageous, I decided it would be a good idea to fall down and break my arm. I was 19 years old and convinced it was only sprained. I tried to refuse to go to the hospital but my friend insisted. I was actually fine until the doctor said - "OK so wait in here and I'll go get materials for your cast."
"NNNNnnnnoooooOOOOOOOO!" That's when the tears started. It goes to show you where my priorities were. How could I go dancing with a cast on my arm? How could I go on my first date with the boy who I later ended up marrying? It was fine in the end, he told me it was the "all-canadian injury" and dated me anyway :) Good thing he didn't realize how badly I skated in the first place. As for this current "love WINTER" project, I have attended one indoor session and have been completely overwhelmed. Waxing for cold weather, waxing for cool weather, waxing for really COLD, dressing for the cold, balancing, etiquette, not holding your group back...uh-oh, is there a group for the weaker, cold and frail type? Oh let me love this sport. I want to get that warm and fuzzy feeling.
Over the Christmas holidays I had a realization. The first week we spent with family. Almost everyday there were people around. The second week I felt overload. I did not even get out of my pajamas on some days. Most people would say that is normal and I deserved to relax but my mind was not letting go. I felt guilty the whole time for not doing anything. I felt lost without a routine and felt like I was spiraling down. I think it would be so easy for me to become a recluse and lost in my head. In fact, when I forced myself to get out and sign up for the sessions, I had to remind myself to pay attention to the traffic. I am not sure I like the things my mind is going over when I have too much time on my hands. I am glad that work has started up again and I am getting into a routine. I never thought I'd say it, but I am happy to work. Even though I don't want to leave the house in this miserable dead of -35˚C, I am forced to go to work and talk with real people and pull myself together. Am I a grown-up now?
So this tea cup has me dreaming of warmer weather and babbling brooks with green vegetation. Until then, I shall take time to myself, but not too much, and try to get out for some winter exercise. Maybe it will turn WINTER into just plain winter for me!

some shared memories

2007-10-07T14:03:00.000-07:00

This has got to be one of my FAVOURITE cups! Most likely because my favourite food is sushi. It was my mom's and a very long time ago it was knocked off of where it was and broke. My Opa glued it back together. So it won't be used, but it's a great ornamental. Thanks mom!
So here are a few of my other favourites from my childhood...
The best memory I have is from when I was 11 or 12. Our family didn't have a lot of money but my dad's boss owned a condominium in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. We were able to use it for a 3 week vacation! The memory I will share with you is the nicest memory of a day when it was pouring rain outside. My dad and I put our bathing suits on, went out in the pouring rain down to the beach and played in the waves and rain just the two of us. I had the most fun of my trip that day - even better than the whole Disney World thing we did. How nice that weather was so warm that we could do that and we were pretty much the only ones out there. Love that memory! Makes me smile everytime I think of it.
It is a much more warm and fuzzy memory than this next one, but I think it's terribly funny so I'll tell it too. Another favourite memory of mine is probably my earliest. The background is that we had a mini pool in the backyard growing up. I have seen it in pictures, I was probably about 2, and could just stand with the water up to my shoulders. The memory is of looking up and seeing the sky and trees of our backyard through the waves of the pool! Then my dad's face coming down panicked bringing me up out of the water. HAHA! My first memory is of almost drowning. I don't have any particularly bad feelings about it... it just seems funny. My mom later told me she was screaming at my dad to turn around from the balcony!
Another funny memory is a doll carriage I received as a birthday gift one year. I could have been between 4 - 6 years old. I remember pushing the carriage with a doll laying inside. Everyone that came up to me was told by me that it was my baby sister. "Shhhhh! My baby sister is sleeping!" I remember thinking - "Ha, they are so stupid! They believe me! They don't know it's just a doll!" Even way back then I had attitude.
The other weird thing is even at that age I remember thinking to myself, I wonder what kind of person I was before I was born, or who I will be next time I am born. Strange that such a small child would think of things like reincarnation. I also knew that I would never have my own kids. Even at 8 or 9 I told my teachers I would adopt a baby because why bring a new baby into the world when another baby needs your help more.
This next memory - another one with my dad happened as I was an adult. It could have been a commercial for McDonald's - I swear. I can't remember where we were going or what we were doing on the day the two of us stopped in to eat at a McD's, but we ordered and sat down. When I was little, one day a month or week (not sure) my dad would bring McD's home for supper - my favorite day! My brother would make fun of me because when I drank my orange drink out of my straw I would tip the cup too. Everyone was always afraid the lid would come off one day. So there we are getting ready to eat years later, I unwrap my burger and offer my dad the pickles. "You STILL take the pickles off", he says in a sentimental tone. "Yup." I smile. The realization that I was grown up but I still hadn't changed and I was still the same little girl I always had been is one of those "commercial" moments. HAHA!
This last memory is not very funny to many people but for some reason it still makes me laugh to tears when I think about it. I was in junior high at the time, my brother in highschool, or just graduated still living at home. He was getting himself 4 chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk when the doorbell rang. He went to get it and I thought to myself, wouldn't it be funny if there were no cookies and an empty glass of milk by the time he got back? So I rushed into the kitchen, inhaled all 4 cookies, downed the milk and ran back to the living room, mouth full with tears down my face because I thought it was so funny. Needless to say he was quite angry with me... those were the last 4 cookies in the cupboard. OH MAN. I am crying laughing thinking of it now. Sorry brother. I'll get you some cookies next time I'm at the store!

Age and Religion... yikes!

2007-10-06T07:26:00.000-07:00

My Ma gave me this recently. It comes to me at a time where I am doing a lot of thinking and learning about other cultures and beliefs. Though I do not have disbelief on God or something greater than we are aware of, I am not religious. I was baptized a Lutheran, but the only other time I had been that church was for the wedding. (Yes we all thought the family would be struck with lightning during the ceremony, yadda yadda....) My parents never forced any religion on me and we did not go to Sunday church. Actually my mom encouraged me to look at different ideas. Think about this - was Jesus an alien from another advanced planet? Lots of people think that! I apologize to those who are offended by this.
When a childhood friend of mine took me to her church once in a while, I did enjoy what seemed to be a supportive community and the belonging that it held, but her church was of a Mormon denomination and the stigma that goes along with that scared my parents to death! I was given a book from the church once and was very curious to read it but my parents found it and took it away. Though I am disappointed that I wasn't able to further investigate it, I understand their apprehension.
My only other experience with a church was through my good friend's wedding and her kids' christenings. I was in a bad place myself at the time, but I forced myself to attend her 3rd baby's baptism. The pastor seemed to have known exactly what I was going through because after the ceremony and during the church service, he actually spoke about depression and anxiety. I needed to hear it but was trying to do everything possible not to. I was afraid if I listened I would break down. It was all I could do to hide my tears. I think that was an important realization and I had a turn-around after that. So I can definitely see the benefits of church. Too bad I didn't feel I could let go because I was supposed to be at a happy event!
But... a few years ago I found Yoga. I really felt like I could fit in with yoga teachings and that they could help me to be a better person. The teachings really connect your mind to your body. I have been going regularly and even when I am having a bad day I go to yoga and it makes me stop and think. There are many strains of yoga and the type I do is Iyengar. BKS Iyengar is still alive today in India and his poses are those that use props to further help in the stretch or to help the body relax in the stretch so that you can get the full benefits. He also focuses on the mind and there is always time for reflection. Why wouldn't I fall for something that gives me both a spiritual teaching and helps me get in shape and healthy!?
I hope to still be doing yoga in my 80s.
Speaking of my 80s... I have developed a fear recently. It is of getting older. I am not afraid of age for vanity reasons - who cares how many wrinkles I have or how gray my hair turns. I am afraid of the things to come. My Oma is turning 90 this year and we are seeing some of the effects her age is having on her. She has said a few times now, "Aging is not fun." This is completely different from what her attitude had been before. I am afraid of my parents passing away. I can't stop thinking about it. I am afraid of my health deteriorating and there being no one to take care of me. Who will tell me things like it's time to stop driving? Who will take care of me and what will my life be like if I need to be in a nursing home? Certainly I won't have any children of my own who will watch out for me. Will my husband be with me? What will his health be like?
It is a little scary because this is the first time I have stopped to think about these things and suddenly I feel a bit alone. Will I turn to religion for comfort? Will I still be active and trying to keep up with yoga? As I said before, that is my hope. Maybe 50 years of yoga will stave off physical ailments! Maybe 50 years of yoga will keep me sound of mind! Maybe my fear is that I will stop learning and growing.
Through thinking about these things, (and trust me - I try not to) I have realized that I need a community of people around me. I need my place where I belong, more so than say a couple with a family. Granted many people's children are not around to take care of them when they are older for whatever reason.
Hopefully in writing I will have given myself some therapy and I will be able to stop worrying and thinking about these things because it sure is getting me down! Hopefully I haven't done so to others in the process! Thank you for sharing this journey of self discovery with me. My next topic will be of a much lighter theme!

Kleinefaun

2007-10-05T16:16:00.000-07:00

This comes to me in a time of learning.
One of the most recent things I have started to learn about is the aboriginal culture. The teachings about their Creator are fascinating. Healing takes on a wholistic form, in terms of healing the whole self including mind, body and community around them, as opposed to treating a symptom or looking at the individual alone. There is also an underlying connection to the land and nature which so many people take for granted.
I had the opportunity through my job to attend several "sweat" ceremonies held by an aboriginal elder. I will try to describe it to the best of my knowledge and if I get any facts wrong, I apologize as I am still learning.
It is a ceremony of cleansing the spirit... a sort of purification of mind, body and spirit so to speak. A sweat lodge is the shape of an igloo (rounded) but made from branches and covered with hides. Blankets cover the ground inside and in the centre are where heated rocks are placed. These rocks are heated ceremoniously by the fire keeper outside the lodge and are called the grandparents. They are our ancestors.
The lodge represents a mother's womb and has four "doors" which mean two things. The four directions in the lodge; north, east, south and west, each have their own meanings and the four doors are also the four rounds that the sweat lodge goes through. The directional "doors" can also be opened for air by lifting the hides up.
Women never used to be invited in to the sweat lodge historically. It was thought that women possess the ability to cleanse themselves through their monthlies which they called "moon time", and their ability to carry a child. Now they are invited in as long as it is not their moon time, as they are already being cleansed.
To enter the sweat lodge you follow a certain tradition. You are wearing a full length skirt, open to mother earth but covered. All jewelry is taken off unless it is meaningful, like a wedding or promise ring. You follow the path by the fire and offer tobacco to the grandparents by tossing it gently on top. You thank them for being present and are mindful of them. You appreciate the ones who have lived before you. Upon entering the lodge, you are on hands and knees, entering the "womb" as your pure "infant" self and you crawl the circumference left to right. The elder will tell you if there is a certain spot that is better for your energy to sit in. There can be 2 or 3 rows of people around the centre and it is cooler around the outside edges obviously. Once everyone has entered it is time to bring in the heated rocks and the firekeeper does so. As the rocks are placed in the middle of the lodge, we put tobacco on them, thanking the grandparents for coming in and bringing with them their knowledge. The tobacco that is used is not the typical westernized cigarette tobacco, but is considered to be a medicine along with sweet grass, sage or cedar. There incidentally isn't the same second hand smoke you would get from a smoker.
The grandparents are all present and have been thanked and welcomed and it is time to close the door. Certain individuals are given instruments - drums or shakers and it is their job to play them while the elder drums and sings or chants. The elder pours cedar water over the stones and creates heat and steam. He will offer up a teaching that maybe he has learned from a nature walk earlier that day or something the grandparents have told him at that moment through a feeling or thought.
It is dark. It is PITCH BLACK. Your eyes play tricks on you and you think you see things. The elder says that those are signs from your ancestors. You should tell the firekeeper outside to offer tobacco in thanks. It is hot. You sweat. Your body and skin take in the medicine from the steam, cedar and tobacco. You may lie down on the ground if you are too hot because the earth is cool. When in the sweat lodge you ask the grandparents to watch over you and keep you safe. You breathe it in. The beats from the drum feel like a heartbeat and the small lodge comes alive. The offerings sprinkled on the rocks burns up and you see little flashes of light almost looking like stars burning up. It is beautiful. The song is over and the door is opened to let in more rocks.
Every door is hotter than the last. If you are asking for something specific like an aboriginal name, you offer tobacco in a small pouch to your elder. I did this and during door number 2 I received a name. It is Little Fawn. He told me I have things to learn. The name would be my first name but not my forever name. He felt the grandparents telling him I would receive a new name after I had more experiences and learning. He also said that one needs to learn the name in one's own language to get the full meaning and that those were MY ancestors talking to him. So my name is Kleine Faun. I asked the elder a few years later if I was ready to receive my second name. He asked me, "What did this name mean to me? How have I grown?" I stumbled, not having expected that question and gave a really vague answer. I knew that it wasn't my time after that. I felt hurried in giving an answer - wanting to have the right thing to say, but thinking that I wouldn't have time to say it. After I thought of MANY ways I have grown and changed! It obviously wasn't my time though, or my answer would have been ready. I left him feeling a bit embarrassed. He said he would ask the grandparents and it would come to him if it was meant to be.
It was the third or fourth door where the elder spoke about the bear. He sang a song and drummed about a bear story. I was feeling particularly claustrophobic and hot (SIDEBAR...oh my goodness I just had an email arrive and it was entitled the lucky bear - with photos of a bear - how funny!). I laid down on the ground and this idea of a bear popped into my head. It was sort of vicious looking but it was giving me a light feeling because it was dancing. I started giggling at my mind's thoughts and it actually got me through this door. Later I realized that it was similar to the "Berlin Bear" a symbol of my heritage. The elder said that it happened on purpose. We told the firekeeper to put tobacco on the fire.
Each time I have participated in the sweat I have come out feeling refreshed...and hungry! The elder said that we should not have a shower until the next day to give the skin time to absorb all the medicine. He gave us willow bark to chew on. We had a feast for lunch after offering a bit of food to the Creator.
This was a fascinating experience for me and very helpful in learning about some of the people I am honoured to work with. I am saddened by the state of things and issues these people face. They carry the burden and trauma that their recent ancestors carried regarding residential schools. Children were ripped out of mother's arms and placed in caucasian households or residential schools where they couldn't speak the language and didn't know the culture. Many were terribly mistreated. A whole generation of mothers were unable to be mothers and a whole generation of kids grew up with hardship and not knowing what it felt like to be properly mothered or how to belong. They lost their culture, their language and beliefs and only now are they able to teach their beliefs again. But is it too late? These kids are growing up now not knowing how to mother their own kids and we are here trying to teach them our caucasian ways, still. Such trauma, and we wonder why some of this population of people live in poverty and struggle with serious issues like addictions, abuse and homelessness. The racial slurs people use and assumptions people make are frustrating too. A person of aboriginal decent has a bodily system that has evolved with eating from the land. Once the caucasian people came they brought all kinds of foreign things and introduced them into their systems. As a result they have a higher risk of developing diabetes. The next time you see a native person "passed out" on the street or walking with a stumble, that just may be someone going through a diabetic insulin shock. (That may be the wrong terminology but you get my point). The breath typically smells like alcohol in a situation like this. It may be useful to call for help instead of assuming that person is drunk.
There is so much more I could say on this topic but I suppose I will leave it for another day.
Since it is almost Thanksgiving, I will say that I am thankful to have had the opportunities for growth and learning that I have had. I am thankful for my health. I am thankful for my family. Thanks, mom for this tea cup and inspiring me to write another entry in my blog.
Meegwetch

2007-10-03T16:30:00.000-07:00

Who knew that two of my very good friends who have never met, would end up in Greece this summer and both bring me back a tea cup? One friend went to Syros (I believe) and the other was in Santarini. Qu'est-ce phoque?
Well I am grateful that they both thought of me.

So it's autumn now and the leaves are changing. It is my absolute favourite season. I had a busy busy summer full of camping, gardening, renovations, and reading. Unfortunately it didn't include traveling to Greece, but I am blessed enough to be able to say that I have been to some far away places in my lifetime. My favourite trip of all was the trip I took with my darling husband to Varadero, Cuba.
Actually we went there twice to the same resort. All inclusive :)
The first trip was our honeymoon. We left on Boxing Day and stayed 7 nights. We met some memorable people on that first trip, including Adam and Pierre. Pierre gave us one of our best quotes. He was telling us a story about someone at the hotel who had made an error. He went on and got a little excited about it. Then he says with his heavy french accent:
"So I told the man, 'My name is Pierre, I am Frensch, I have a temper, and I loooooove it'."
I can hear him saying it to this day. This trip included the best New Year's Eve party I have EVER been to. We stayed up until 5am running around the resort jumping in hot tubs, dancing in the night club and drinking champagne.
We liked it so much that we had to go back and finish the holiday. Seven days just wasn't enoughbut two weeks seemed too long. We wished we could have had a 10 day stay.
Our second trip was absolutely a blast. We got off of our bus and told all the people from our city to meet us in the bar in an hour. Everyone came, and it seemed very funny that we traveled all that way to spend time with people from our home town! In fact we had so much fun with them that we have kept in touch to this day. A memorable moment from this second trip, besides of course the catamaran day trip, the beach, bar, food, the caves... ok I could go on BUT... a funny moment was when I was standing at the bar waiting to order a Rum Punch and a Mojito. Two German men were standing beside me wearing *sigh* small speedos that could barely be seen under the flaps of beer belly. Sorry for that, but it's fun to gross people out. I know they were German because they happened to be speaking German and their topic of choice was the little snot standing next to them. (ME).
"Gucke mal...die Frauelein da. Was ist den Dass fuer eine?"
I took lots of pleasure in replying in German. "Sie koennen Frau zu mir sagen." (telling them they could refer to me in the polite way they should)
The looks on their faces when their jaws dropped to let in their size elevens in was priceless.
I guess you learn not to assume people can't understand what you are talking about - even if it is in another language!
I love to travel and wish I had more time for it. In the meantime we are saving and saving, and plan to return to somewhere warm soon. The greatest thing is that we will go with the couple we met while there!
So thanks to my friends for sharing a piece of Greece with me.

Cottage Life

2007-08-29T14:20:00.000-07:00

The last cup handed down from my mother in law, with it's write up:

"This cup and saucer was also received as a bridal shower gift. I love the English country house and garden depicted on it. When (my youngest son) first went to England, I became very anxious about him being so far away from home and family. I worried about his general well-being and also feared for his safety because terrorist attacks had started to become more prevalent. After some considerable time, I realized that I had allowed worry and anxiety to overshadow my faith. Drawing on my faith, I immediately thereafter became much more comfortable with him being away and that's why I call this one 'Serenity'."

Of course, art can have many different meanings to different people. I can take this cup to represent my cottage life over the years.
While growing up, we never had our own cottage. My mother always said, "Why have TWO houses that need cleaning and dusting and maintenance?" She was right in a way. My brother's Godparents had a cottage that we visited a few times and that was my first experience with the life. I remember feeding sunflower seeds to a chipmunk, walking through a sandy, grassy path to the beach, the cottage "smell" and the long drive home. Growing up, a few friends of mine would occasionally take me with them to their cottages, where I learned about fish flies and my dislike towards them, boys, and how fun a campfire can be. (Yes mom, boys.)
My favourite memories of cottage life, however begin when I first met my husband. (No not when I met my first husband, when I FIRST met my husband.) He would take me up to the family cottage for the weekend, just the two of us, in the middle of winter. Of course there was no plumbing at the time, but luckily there was an outhouse. We had a routine upon arrival, to immediately start a fire and turn on the heaters, to warm the place up, and once it got going we would go out for a walk with the dog. Once we got back the cottage always seemed to be the perfect temperature. One time we both put on snowshoes, walked out to the middle of a field and then unfairly called the dog from the road to come get us. All you would see was a black dog bounding through the deep snow excitedly! By the time he got to us he was a white snow dog with black eyes and a black nose. So cute!
To relax me from a stressful week at school one weekend, we drove up with the dog to spend a night. He put together some good food, made a roaring fire in the woodstove, put on calming music from Enya and once it got dark enough, he hauled me out - eyes closed - to the road in front of the cottage. There I was told to open my eyes and look up. That was the first time I had ever seen that many stars in the sky. It was amazing to say the least. There we stood in the oversized arctic parkas left in the closet all year round, staring at the stars until our necks were so sore we couldn't stand it anymore. Then we stared a little longer. The silence you experience in the middle of winter at the lake is indescribable. No buzzing of electricity, no cars, no people, no bugs, not even any waves as the lake is frozen over.
The cottage area is a little more populated nowadays and more and more people are actually living out there. It's not quite the same as before; there have been many renovations done including plumbing, additions, winterizing. It is an actual house now. It still remains as my favourite place to have a bonfire and take the occasional friend up for some relaxation. So naturally when I look at a picture of a cottage on a tea cup my first reaction is thinking of our family cottage!

To Good Health

2007-08-27T10:50:00.000-07:00

This cup was one of the bridal shower gifts my mother in law received and passed on to me. It's deeper saucer, smaller cup and the softness of the pink colour, all contribute to it seeming so very dainty and delicate and so, to her, it is "Grace".
The word delicate to me sums up my health in the past two years.
Two and a half years ago I ended up in emergency with very bad stomach pains. They admitted me, gave me some morphine, ran some tests and couldn't find anything and so sent me home. I never really thought twice about it. The pain went away.
Two summers ago we were busy with summer activity. I was lucky enough to ride in a Cessna plane with my brother in law and father in law to take photos of our cabins from overhead. I love to fly, but as we were coming in to land I felt suspiciously nauseous, which wasn't all that normal... Again I brushed it off. We were in the middle of replacing our living room floors and painting and the family was over helping one day. Another strange thing happened - I fell asleep in the middle of the living room on the couch with all the activity around me. For someone who takes an hour and a half just to fall asleep at night - this is not normal! Again, I said I must have been exhausted and brushed it off. That night I went on to play a double-header for a friend's baseball team that needed an extra player. Half-way through the first game I felt stabbing pains in my abdomen and was wishing the game would just end.
Not only did I play to the end, I went out for drinks after. They riled me when I didn't have any alcohol and left early! I went home and tried to sleep it off. No such luck. At 7am the next morning, after I had spent the entire night by the computer playing text twist to take my mind off the pain I finally called Health Links and they told me to have someone drive me to the hospital immediately. By 2:00 we finally had a diagnosis and by 8:00 I was having my appendix out. The nurse said it was raging mad and thank God we got it out. Unfortunately I found out while recovering that I have a side effect from morphine that makes me unable to breathe. That really sucked. The nurses for the most part seemed as though they didn't care and one actually made me cry. I explained it away saying, "I am just overwhelmed, I'll be ok."
She answered me with, "Oh I know how you feel, I was in my car for four hours last night crying..."
Oh no she didn't.... she didn't just try to tell a patient her own problem did she? A patient who is crying because she can't breathe and just had major surgery? Hmmm. Guess what else? It was my freaking birthday.
Well, after a few complications things turned out just fine.
Unfortunately in January of '06 I felt that I was having the same pains after a hot tubbing party at the lake. It was the greatest thing - sitting in a hot tub in the deck in 35 below watching the crystals form on everything around us. I came home and writhed around with pain in the abdomen until I convinced my husband to take my back to the hospital. Can an appendix grow back?
Again, I waited forever in emergency actually trying some of the comforting positions that I recommend to people in labour. We waited 4 hours and by then the pains mysteriously vanished. The nurse said it would take another 2-3 hours to see the doctor. Wonderful health care system we have. This happened several more times of varying degrees before I self-diagnosed myself with gallstones.
If anyone has ever had a gallbladder attack they can attest to it's misery. I went to my GP and they put a rush on an ultrasound test for me. Unfortunately it was not until July 17th, still a month away.
We decided to go on our planned road trip to Alberta for two weeks in the meantime and to help stave off an attack I ate only vegan. I was feeling very sick at this point. I had two attacks while visiting friends and family and had to miss out on a few things we had planned. The last day in Alberta turned out to be the hardest as we went for breakfast and all I could smell was Eggs Benny - my favorite breakfast. I had the "Fruit with Granola" dish which came smothered in raisins which I hate. I excused myself to the bathroom and cried from hunger. I knew I couldn't eat it because we had a long drive home ahead of us.
July 17th came around and I had lost way too much weight and was very frustrated. My husband was out of town for another week and a half. In my head I planned my appointment for the ultrasound. I was going to give them what they needed. That day for lunch I went to McDonald's. I enjoyed every bite. I also went to Dairy Queen for dessert and had a huge blizzard. At 6:00 I went to emergency one last time. I said, "I have an ultrasound booked but I am having a gallstone attack - what should I do?" They sent me for my ultrasound. I told the technician I was in a lot of pain and needed to go back to emergency really quick. She confirmed the results; tons of tiny stones which is worse than one big one. They B-lined me to emerg, put me on a stretcher and hooked me up to IV. The next night I was having the surgery to have my gall bladder removed. I phoned a few people to let them know and I called my husband to say it was the best thing that could have happened. My friends and family all kicked in to help me out until he got back from his trip.
Too bad you have to manipulate the system to get what you want. It took several trips to emergency, moaning and groaning and vomiting for them to say, "I'm sorry it will be another 4 hours wait."
Well, this summer I have not had to give up any organs. I was actually able to celebrate my birthday with no new scars or major incisions to the abdomen. YAY! Of course all the weight and more has been gained back. I can eat now. I can REALLY eat!
So raise your tea cup - To Good Health!

Forgive...and get on with it!

2007-08-26T09:46:00.000-07:00

My tea cups lately have come with their stories already written for me!
I had a birthday this summer and my brother in law gave me a tea cup with the following story:
"OK. Well... When I was in England, I spent a lot of time at Nicola's cottage in West Sussex. The walls of the bathroom in the cottage - over the bathtub - were decorated with ceramic tiles with William Morris designs, which I thought were beautiful. Apparently they were NOT "patterns" but actual original tiles, painted by the man himself, which does not surprise me consider the age of the cottage (1600s) and the connection between Nicola's family and many famous artists and writers. To learn more about him, visit morrissociety.org. Anyway, I came across that cup and saucer with a William Morris pattern and brought it back home for Grandma. I know she loved it and used it a lot, whenever she made tea or coffee for herself. I saw her myself using it a lot, and Mom also told me about how much she loved it. So when Grandma died, I knew that Mom took posession the cup and saucer, which was fine, but when I learned that you had taken an interest in cups and saucers I suggested to Mom that we pass it on to you, as I thought you would appreciate it as Grandma did... :o)"
My brother in law is such a thoughtful, interesting person. We had a few "growing pains" in the beginning mostly due to our "living arrangements" for a year and a half. I am not an easy person to live with - I have no idea how my husband does it! I am so glad that we are on good terms and this cup to me really means to "forgive and get on with it!"

2007-08-23T09:26:00.000-07:00

As I sit here drinking the "cherry rose festival green tea" my beautiful cousin gave me for my birthday this year, I contemplate another blogging topic. I am inspired by the write-up my mother in law did about this cup, in a group of 4 cups she gave me as a meaningful gift for their 40th anniversary:
"This cup and saucer was also received as a bridal shower gift, but in 1957. It was given to (another bride and groom that further went on to be my husband's godparents) that October and considered to be very avant-garde with it's bold fruit design and colours. This one is bone china but hand decorated in Japan. When (the bride's) mother became widowed they decided to sell their house and move in with their mother. Their house had been their first house and it became our first house. Who knew when we bought their house in 1968 that we would become such good friends or that to date, we would have enjoyed having them in our lives for almost forty years. Or that when they were downsizing a number of years ago, she would offer me several things, including this cup and saucer and so this one, to me, is "Friendship".

On the subject of "Friendship"...
With the rise of internet programs such as "Facebook" and "Myspace", people are reconnecting in ways never before possible. It has recently allowed me to reconnect with friends from the past as far back as my early childhood days. It is a rush, to say the least, to find someone you remembered and to have them remember you and want to catch up.
It's also quite scary for me, actually. It is a reminder of things that had been laid to rest. It is a reminder of lessons learned the hard way. It is a reminder of struggles and growing up and making mistakes.

When we lose touch with people, the last memory of that person, the way they were then, is what you leave with. I remember old acquaintances the way they used to be and forget that they, too, probably have struggled and changed the way I have. On the one hand I want to desparately show people - "Look! I have changed! I am not that same immature person I was!".

On the other hand, do I really want to go there? It's scary to think that the old school dynamics are so easily reawakened.
I often think to myself, if I had 5 minutes with this person or that, I would apologize for stupid things I said and did. I keep some guilt stored away in my brain from those crazy high-emotion-filled years. I wonder if possibly most people are thinking the same way, those who remember me and those who don't. Life doesn't stop for us - it just keeps going and going. Is it really worth it to harbour any of those negative feelings inside or hold grudges? I am learning to let it go. Five minutes with a former bully, or someone who felt bullied by me may or may not prove that thought. It is a good thing that I have been able to realize that all my actions were not a result of what others had done to me or said about me, but they were a reflection of the way I felt about myself. It goes the same for other people - the way they treat you is really about the way they feel about themselves and it's not about you. That is one lesson hard for an approval-seeking person like me to get used to!

I am comforted by the fact that I have changed. I now know how to have healthy friendships and those who are closest to me know I would do anything for them. I now know that my behaviours were somewhat normal and I appreciate all those people in my past for helping me to get where I am today. School bullies, best friends, even boyfriends taught me more about myself than I could have discovered on my own, whether I learned them quickly or not! So thanks to all those buddies out there on Facebook and not. I promise to continue learning and growing. It is never-ending work!

2007-08-19T20:01:00.000-07:00

This cup was given to me by my mother in law with the following write up:

"This cup and saucer was received as a shower gift in 1967. In those days, a tea cup and saucer was a typical gift for a bridal shower, as were tea towels, or a bath towel and face cloth (no hand towels or bath sheets; a bath towel and a face cloth made "a set"). Gifts such as these cost $5.00 - $7.00 and that, in those days, was a typical amount of money to spend for such an occasion.
Also "in those days", rules of etiquette were closely followed so the cold beverage at a bridal shower was always punch that was served from a fancy punch bowl, along with fancy finger sandwiches; tea and coffee would then follow, along with fancy dainties. The hot beverage was always served in a fancy tea cup. And so to me, this set, with it's fancy gold design and the pretty blue flower inside the cup rim, is 'Etiquette'."

Well, I guess this calls for the story of my wedding....

It was early October. I chose a fall date because I don't do well in heat and can't understand how anyone can wear a suit or bridal gown "get up" in plus 30 degrees. I think I was lucky because the planning went very smoothly. It was the year 2000 so that every year when people asked us, "How long have you been married?" we could answer easily by what year it was!

The ceremony was in a church... yes a church... and no one in the family including myself was struck down by lightning. Actually it was the church I had been baptized in. That was the only other time I had stepped foot through the doors but I figured if it was going to be a church wedding, this one would make the most sense.

I am not really into all the traditional things other brides are desiring for their weddings. We did not decorate the church - it just seemed wrong. Plus who wants to spend extra time putting up decorations that no one will really notice for that small amount of time. Too much energy! The same went for the reception, as the restaurant had their own decor.

We did have a photographer, but I was actually quite disappointed in the "professional" photos as they were all posed and fake. The best pictures were taken by my father who had a roll of black and white film in his camera. The funniest photos were taken by the guests who had disposable cameras at each table. My husband's cousins brought a set of fake teeth with them and took awesome pictures of themselves all dressed up with rotten crooked smiles. It was the greatest thing to look at them when we developed the photos. We laughed so hard!

My mother went to work for months, diligently crocheting little wedding bells with chocolates hanging on the insides as gifts. She is very talented that way.

There was no stress in the planning process. My father and I sat down to make most of the decisions, ran them by the groom and presto! We had a wedding. The only glitch before the date was that the restaurant had double booked their side room, and so for the time that our guests were having dinner it was closed off. By the time we were ready to mingle and dance, the room was open and all was well. We got a case of fine champagne out of the deal and our guests were served with it as they arrived. Not so much a glitch anymore!

I found out a little later that two of my guests had to go home without their jackets - the coat check seemed to have "misplaced" them. Another couple had a mix up with their meals. Oh well, things can't go perfectly all of the time.

Honestly it was the best day of our lives. Our family all bonded, we danced all night, we ate well. We played a game where I had to be blindfolded and pick my husband out of a line up by feeling a row of men's bare legs. I went to the first one. "No, not him." The second, "Hmmm, I'm not sure." The third also not sure. The fourth, "OH that's DEFINITELY not him." The fourth one was actually my brother. He was quite relieved by my reaction. In the end I picked the wrong person which made my mother laugh in hysterics. Good times, good times. Then comes the funniest story of all....

I had asked a friend to pop in during the afternoon to check in on our dog at the house. She also decorated the hallway and bedroom with hearts and flower petals etc. etc. It was very cute. She put candles out and satin sheets on the bed and everything. Well. Later that night when we were ready for bed, I thought something looked funny. I looked over and the satin pillowcase had caught on fire by the candle that was lit next to the bed. After some screaming and blowing and lots of laughter we realized that we could tell everyone that the bed was on FIRE our first night as a married couple.

I suppose this tea cup, because of where it comes from, is my wedding tea cup, although I may not do it's "etiquette" any justice!

Ode To Markus

2007-07-10T19:47:00.000-07:00

This is my garden tea cup. It represents my "back yard" life. When I moved into my house, I saw a yard full of potential and filled it full of beautiful things. Every year it brings us apples, strawberries, grapes, tomatoes, cucumbers, corn, raspberries and much more! It also brings me memories of my first time being a pet owner.

When I moved in, Markus, who is a black shepherd-lab cross, was already 5 years old and owned by my husband. We started out on rocky footing - my one rule about the dog was: NO DOGS ON THE BED! I already had one "animal" to deal with - I didn't need two! Did I mention that Markus was 120 pounds?
So the dog did not appreciate being moved to the floor.

I never had pets growing up and I was excited to have a loyal, well-behaved dog by my side. I was looking forward to being able to call Markus my best friend. I would throw a ball or stick and say, "Fetch Markus!" Only Markus didn't ever bring the ball back to me. He stopped "fetching" when I moved in.
I thought I could get great exercise by taking Markus for walks and runs. Only he either pulled me, stopped me, or believe it or not, pushed me into on coming traffic. Yes, I think he did that one on purpose!
So we developed an interesting relationship. Not best friends but not enemies either. You see, Markus thought he was the alpha male in the house.

He sure had a personality. One of our private moments together will always be remembered. He was lying down at the front door as he always loved to do. He loved to watch the goings on outside, bark at a car or person going by, or the wind or a falling leaf, or the sky, etc. I came happily down the hallway and noticed something on the floor so I picked it up. To my surprise it was a dead wasp and I let out the shriek of all shrieks, followed by a deep fit of laughter at my ridiculousness. I mean come on, the wasp is dead - it ain't gonna sting you. I looked over at Markus during this episode to see him slowly meet my gaze, shake his head, roll his eyes and continue on with his nap thinking, "Humans."

A few things about Markus really annoyed me. Of course, one was having to clean up any messes he made. What goes in to a 100 pound dog must come out somehow. Luckily, I had a husband who did most of the dirty work. One thing that got me revved up every time was the way he poked his head through the screen window in the back door. Yes THROUGH the screen. If Heaven forbid, you forgot to take him inside or outside with you, there he was, head half out reminding you. So much for a bug barrier. I actually took a picture because I thought. "One day, I will think this was funny."

Another thing that made my blood boil was how Markus always seemed to get the "last word". He would bark and I would say, "Quiet now!" He would bark again. I would say "There's no one there!" He would bark again. I would say "STOP IT!" He would stop, and then relax. Then he would let out one more soft, "Woof", just to let me know he would stop when he darn well wanted to stop.
Poor Markus was also very afraid of thunderstorms and we weren't sure what we'd come home to if he was by himself when one started. There was always a worry when the forecast called for thunder and lightning.

The best part about Markus though, was that when I really needed him, he was there. I had been going through a very deep depression for a long time before getting any help. When I finally realized what was happening, I took a 4 month breather from work to heal myself. Markus never left my side. He was a comfort to me. He became the loyal, well-behaved, best friend I needed. I took him to the park for long walks, and he no longer pulled me (I almost pulled him!)
Unfortunately by the time I was back at work and on the road to recovery, he was already 12 years old, which for a shepherd, is a long life. He started getting grumpy in his old age. His hips were full of discomfort. He would sleep all day.
One day I got the call at work that a decision had been made. I raced home and laid on the floor with him crying, telling him what a good dog he had been. We drove him to the vet. The needle was given. I sobbed. The hardest part for me, was leaving him there on the table by himself. I desperately wanted the vet to come back in and stay with him while we left, but my husband needed to get out of there and fast. I never knew I could have so much love for an animal, especially one that was at odds with me so much.

We haven't ventured into getting another dog. It seems so freeing to not have to come home at lunch to let the dog out, or to be able to go somewhere straight after work without worrying. I do miss how he pranced after getting a bath. "Markus are you CLEAN? Did you have a BATH??!" I miss him rolling around in the grass in the backyard taking out huge chunks of sod and whipping them across the lawn as he did. Who needs aerating? While I miss his presence and companionship as I work in the garden, I know that time goes on. I do have a new friend who visits me while I am weeding on a regular basis from next door of the feline variety. :)
I now sense a real connection between animals and myself from having learned the ropes from Markus.
Thanks "Hotstepper!" I miss you!

2007-05-26T06:09:00.000-07:00

I fell in love with this little thing while walking around old Montreal with some great people. It was a fantastic day filled with shopping and sightseeing. This trip was actually a work-related trip to Ottawa in which I could catch up with an old friend and my favorite cat "Bam Bam". It was a nice week with really hot weather and I discovered my favourite phrase of all while there: "Qu'est ce que f**k?" It's a real gem to add to my vast knowledge of the "Frenglish Language".
Now the real adventure comes with my travels back to the homefront.
We said our goodbyes at the Ottawa International Airport after pigging out on good ole' Harvey's. My flight was of course delayed and once the plane landed in Toronto I had to make a mad dash to the other end of the terminal to board my connecting flight. PHEW! I made it! And what luck! I had a whole row of seats to myself.... or so I thought. I moved in to my airline seat and got comfy. Then the flight attendant announced we would be waiting one moment for some people who just came off another delayed flight. Wow, that's great I thought. I am glad they actually wait for people. They came on and both sat next to me.
Well that's ok I thought. But I am not giving up my arm rest. Gotta protect the arm rest. So I read quietly and waited for the flight to take off. The girl beside me kept elbowing me... as if she didn't even know I was there. Hmmm... that's a little frustrating, but whatever, I can deal with that. Ok, give up the arm rest. You have a window seat.
I could tell that the gentleman with her was clearly innebriated. It's ok, it's ok. They won't bother me. Just keep reading.
I could hear the gentleman and lady speaking about their relationship. Oh no... they are a couple having an argument and I am in the middle of it. Keep reading, keep reading. It will all be fine.
"You love me right now but you called me a bitch and said you hated me earlier", she says to him.
"No I, I looofe yeeou. Kith me, I want thome tongue", he drunkenly says. Ew.
"Well you know, you are so rough. I don't like tongue. Sometimes it's nice to be gentle."
Then the gentleman looks in my direction. Keep reading, keep reading, ignore them. "That chick is totally FAT. I mean look at her, she is so chunky. She's f**kin' FAT!" Hmmm, maybe he's not talking about me. Maybe there is someone across the isle. "She's a f**kin' heffer. I'm glad work with YOU, you are so beautiful you are HOT. Kiss me now". Oh man, yup, he's talking about me... pointing even. His hands are on her thighs now. Wait a minute - "WORK?" It's all coming together for me now. They proceed to have a conversation about sexual acts and so on. Apparently he is the jealous type and doesn't like seeing her with other men. Hmmm. She is asking him what he likes and if he thinks it's sexy for women to be with a lot of men. Nice.
Here comes the whammy. He blurts out, "You know I am not the most honourable of husbands."
OK, so the flight has barely taken off, but my book is packed up and my bags are on my lap and I am ready to get up as soon as the damn seatbelt sign turns off. Turn off! Turn off! I am stuck in the world of an escort.
"HEY, did we land in Wippenig? Winneppp? Winnipeg?" he slaps my leg and asks. "No not yet", I reply. I feel like asking the girl if she's ok but she was starting a lot of the explicit conversation they were having. A whisper comes from the seat to over from me. "I am so turned on."
"EXCUSE ME I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM. Please will you let me out?"
An announcement from an irritated flight attendant: "If you will notice the seatbelt sign is ON, please stay in your seats for safety reasons."
"I NEED TO GO. Please let me out."
They proceed to let me out and I take my bags with me and receive a tongue lashing from the flight attendant. After relaying my experience, he kindly escorted me to another seat and gave me a free headset! Wow a free headset. So everytime I look at my brand new tea cup, I will think of that special day where I received something for nothing. I received the gift of sound to the on flight sallelite tv. What a great trip.
"Qu'est-ce f**k?"!

Best...Day...Ever

2007-04-26T17:52:00.000-07:00

Well I had a really good day. It started out with me going to work and admiring the daisies I received the day before from my man "just because". Now THAT doesn't happen often so when it does, it's super special!
AND THEN...
I got to go on an excursion in the afternoon with work. We went to the IMAX theatre to watch "The Human Body". What an experience seeing inside the digestive system or the reproductive system on a "ginormous" screen infront of you. All that and during work time... Oh, I should mention that I got to ride with Cindy who is an awesome co-worker. (She asked me weeks ago when I would talk about my great friend Cindy in the blog, that's C- as in "Crikey! It's Cindy!" I - as in, "I am so glad it's Cindy!" N - as in, "Noway! I just saw Cindy!" D - as in "Damn that Cindy is hot!" and Y - as in, "Yes sir, that is Cindy.")
AND THEN...
A situation at work that was bugging me was resolved.
AND THEN...
I got a hug from my boss saying she got 2 anonymous compliments about me. Talk about feeling praised. And the whole time I am at work the voice in my head is telling me, "Why can't you shape up? Everyone does a better job than you do!" This whole self-doubt thing is really not all it's cracked up to be.
AND THEN...
I got an invitation to go for dinner with my favourite guy. A FREE dinner mind you, and it was $80 worth of dinner! We received a gift certificate for a cute iMovie I made. I really only made it for fun! I didn't want a reward, but wow that was so nice!
AND THEN...
We went for a walk through the market and I found this great little cup:

AND THEN...
I came home to enjoy the wonderful spring weather we are having. I made a cup of meadowsweet/marshmallow tea and sat on the front step. I admired the weeping pussy willow tree in the yard and thought, "Hang on to this. Not all days are made equal!"

Fatherly Advice

2007-04-19T18:35:00.000-07:00

This cup is matching to the other funky retro cup from my last posting. I love the woman in the picture! The scene almost reminds me of a talk show host interviewing a celebrity guest, which is why I am choosing to write about my sweet father today. He is in the media type business and well honestly I haven't written about him yet, so I am using this as an excuse :)

Hopefully my recollection of this story is accurate. Just as my mother and her family went through some pretty traumatic experiences growing up in the war, my dad and his family have a story. I was told some of the basics, and I never want to forget them. I can't believe that some of the things my family had to endure are going on in other parts of the world as we speak. My Opa on my dad's side had a wife and family prior to marrying my Oma and having 3 more children. Apparently he was a translator/interpreter by trade. When my dad was very young, as I understand it, everyone in the family put on 5 days worth of clothing and boarded a train in the eastern part of Germany travelling to the west. The wall was not up yet and things were strict, but you could still travel to visit family. The three kids and their mother rode in one part of the train, and a few cars down their father rode. They each told the story that they were going to visit their dad and vice versa. That's how they escaped the east with only the clothes on their backs and what they could carry. Some very personal events shaped my father into who he is today; events that I am sure he would not want published. Let's just say he didn't have it easy. Not unlike a lot of kids in his day. I have seen books of photos printed from children growing up in war times. Kids would play on the streets in rubble of blown up buildings and finding the odd bone in the pile was not unusual. For years he told me that he would duck if a plane flew by overhead. He has a few good memories of childhood, one being his grandmother's "sweet and sour canned pumpkin" recipe, or his dreams of being a truck driver and driving away for miles and miles looking at the countryside. He lived in a small village near Berlin called Rangsdorf, before moving into the city. He told me he hated school and did poorly. He had a very strict father.
Then he met my mom!
When looking at my parent's wedding photos, I wondered what the timeline of events were. I asked my dad, "So you asked mom to marry you, THEN you came to North America for a year? WITHOUT her?"
"Yes."
"WHAT were you THINKING?"
"I do not know!"
Haha... Well of course my mother came for the wedding not speaking one word of English and saying her vows phonetically. What dedication. That's where a new chapter began.
I think it takes two or three generations of family for trauma to vanish. As you can see I carry a lot of the burden that my parents and grandparents went through. I feel it vicariously through them whether I like to or not.
In any case, my dad, like my mother, was always there for me when I was growing up although if you asked him he would say he missed a lot of my childhood because he was working so much. He really showed me his soft and caring side in times of need and for that he is my hero. *sniff sniff* One piece of advice that he gave me at a crucial time was that you can't please everyone.
"But I WANT to."
But I can't. As I grow older in experiences I am more and more ok with that.
So I thank my daddy for caring and always trying to guide me through life.

Bring in the new!

2007-04-14T15:43:00.000-07:00

It is time to do some purging! We have gone through our entire house from top to bottom and gotten rid of anything we don't use anymore. What freedom! People are very tied down to their "things". I have been the packrat in the past and my way of thinking has totally shifted. Get rid of things. Things hold you back. Things clutter your space. Give your things away to other people who need them more. I often think back to a trip I went on to Germany for one month and I lived out of my suitcase. One suitcase was enough! And here I have a house full of possessions that in all honesty I could do without. They take up my time and energy too - I have to dust or clean them. Protect them, sort them. Why do we have so many things??? We enjoyed giving most of our stuff away to charities or people who we knew would use them. I am sure we have a lot more sorting to do.
So you know of course there is a point to my little rant. I think one has to clear their physical space of clutter and needless items, and it is also important to clear your mind. We go about our daily tasks and sometimes we are so heavy and full that we are on autopilot. Our heads are packed with all kinds of emotional stressors - worry, anxiety, guilt, animosity, jealousy, not to mention trauma...the list goes on. What kinds of steps do we take to clear out the junk from our heads? Letting go is so hard to do. Especially since other people are usually involved. Sometimes letting go means saying goodbye to unhealthy relationships. Sometimes it means setting clear boundaries and sticking to them. Sometimes it means compromise.
You also clear the junk from your head by taking care of yourself. Do some housecleaning... what things have been really bugging you lately and what can you do about it? Sometimes it means accepting that it is not your fault, you can't fix it, and it is THERE regardless of what you do. Sometimes it means you drive home in the car screaming at the top of your lungs. (Um yeah.... thanks to my brother for getting me interested in loud crazy music to scream to) Sometimes you need to cry, but you also need to laugh. And laugh really hard. Either way, we have to spend energy on those thoughts... dusting and cleaning them, protecting them, sorting them. Shouldn't we be able to purge the ones that we don't want anymore? That way more energy goes to the positive thoughts.
What will you do today to clean out the unneccessary items in your life? Get rid of negative feelings! They hold you back! Feel free. Use this wonderful spring weather to inspire a change. Change is good for the soul someone once told me. So this teacup represents taking care of myself, talking about my stress and emotional baggage, letting go and laughing. What could be better than sitting with a friend and venting over a cup of tea?!

The story of my Mother

2007-01-14T18:23:00.000-08:00

The story of my mother….

My mother was born in a small German town called Landsberg. Landsberg is now a town in Poland called Gorzow. It was during WWII and her father had been sent away to drive ammunitions trucks for the German Army. They didn't have a choice to join the army back then. As luck would have it, my Opa got his orders to leave Stalingrad the day before the huge battle where over one hundred thousand Germans died. It wasn’t long before their town was invaded and they were kicked out of their houses. My mother, age 1 1/2 rode in a baby carriage pushed by her mother, aunt, and grandmother taking turns for ten days on a trek crossing the Oder River to Berlin. Alongside them walked her cousin a few years older than she, who was actually tied with a long rope to the baby carriage so she would not get lost. All they had to eat or drink was a sort of surrogate coffee drink called Mukefuk. (“moo-ka-fook”) At one point they weren’t sure whether my mom was going to make it. My Oma sat on a curb listening to people telling her to just stay there the night so she could bury her in the morning and leave her behind. She suffered from dysentery and if not for the fact that my Oma had her trained to tell her when she needed to "go" she may have died. She really beat all the odds. In the end they made it to a relative’s house in Berlin and were permitted to stay in the city since my Oma had worked as a nanny in Berlin some years ago. They lived in one small room in the house. The first time that my mother was given a bottle with real milk, she said – “No! It’s supposed to be black!”

The first time they put her in the crib from the carriage she stretched out her arms and legs from side to side revelling in the enourmous space that had been given to her. After one week of rest and chamomile tea she was on her way to good health again.
The first time my mother ever met her father was when she was 6 years old. He had been sent away to a Russian prison camp and had only been given bread and water for nourishment. Because of the poor economy after the war, there was no work for my Opa, a veteran. They have many stories of things they went through just to eat, or live under a roof. One story is of a time when they were lucky enough to score some beef and made a pot of goulash. Being that there was no table or any other furniture in the small room they occupied, they had put the pot in the middle of the floor. As my mom's cousin came in from playing outside she walked into the room and stepped right in the pot with their meal. My Oma laughs when she tells this story, saying, “We ate it anyway!! What else was there to eat?”

I have been to Germany, and I have seen the room they lived in. I have seen their first apartment, and I have seen the memorials they have built to remind us of the tragedies of war. I grew up listening to so many stories, and heard hints of the ones too awful to hear about.

I am very thankful for my mother, who gave me this teacup yesterday… which she picked up at a thrift store just for me.

The Weddings

2007-01-02T18:53:00.000-08:00

This cup comes to me during a time of family weddings. I really like the flowers on the inside :)
So my brother announced last Christmas that he was getting married, and they chose a New Year's Eve wedding. This, we thought, would be a great idea because usually people are looking for something to do on New Year's anyway. Also, my Oma and Opa married on that day in 1941. Special! Then, a month after we heard about my brother's good news, we learned of my husband's cousin's wedding. I congratulated him and asked, have you thought of a date yet? His reply was, "Yes! One week before your brother's wedding!" My heart sank a little, knowing of what was to come. Two bridal showers, two wedding socials, two stags and stagettes, and two rehearsals all before two weddings. You see we were both in my brother's wedding party and my husband was in his cousin's. I feel bad because the dates being so close got a little in the way of me feeling ecstatic for both couples. Well it's all over now, and what an experience!
The first wedding was lovely, and the part I enjoyed most about the ceremony was that it was in a tiny church where they handed candles to everyone and turned out the lights. It made for a really nice ambiance. The reception was the great and the crowd on the dance floor was my favourite thing of all. We danced until they kicked us out. Everyone showed their stuff too - it was all about making up new dances like, "Shopping Cart", "Lawn Mower", Ladder off the Truck", "Hurry Hard", or "Screw the light bulb". Add in your typical "make fun of the 80's" and you are in for a good time! Dr. Zen Zen played a crucial part in my evening too if you know what I mean.
The second wedding was also beautiful, but not without it's hitches. On the 30th of December 2006 there was a huge amount of snowfall and by morning no one could get out of their driveways. There were quite a few obstacles in getting me to where the bride was and then at 12:30 p.m. we phoned to confirm the limousines that were to come at 2:00. Their reply was, "Are you kidding we aren't coming." Well it would have been nice to know that in the morning. After some rigmarole the maid of honour received a favour from someone with 4 wheel drive and we drove like maniacs to the hall, almost crashing once, spinning on purpose a few other times, not forgetting to stop for a Slurpee on the way. So we were only about an hour late. That was just the girls.
The men had their own kerfuffles and my husband ended up driving (and walking) back and forth across the city, only to end up back at our house to have the neighbour drive them in his 4 wheel drive. Phew!
What we wouldn't do to help get them married!
In the end the wedding took place and it was memorable. The dinner was great and almost all of the guests made it there in spite of the snow.
I am extremely happy for both couples and I am glad they are so in love. It is nice to share in that feeling with them. It also reminds me of how happy I am with my partner in crime! ;)

Friendship

2006-12-29T18:35:00.000-08:00

Well, when people hear you are starting a collection things start coming in by the hundreds! OK well maybe not a hundred, but I received this tea cup from my Oma along with another one that I will save for another day.
She received this tea cup from a lady she met, whom we lovingly refer to as "De Schmitten", although Frau Schmidt never knew we referred to her in this way as it may be considered a little rude. We of course, did it out of love ;)
As this was a friend of my Oma's, I would like to dedicate my new addition to the friends in my life. How fitting, since the yellow rose indicates "friendship".
I am difficult and challenging at times and I often put my foot in my mouth. I am opinionated and stubborn too... yes...me! So it sure takes a special person to stick around. Don't get me wrong - I have some good qualities too. I need SOMETHING to reel them in and fool them :)
I just appreciate how my friends understand me. They know that I tend to go for a while without a phone call, and yet when I do call they are always greeting me with genuine happiness to hear from me.
I appreciate my friends, who like SUSHI as much as I do.
I appreciate my friends, who come and take care of me when I am sick.
I enjoy the talks and the msn messaging when I feel like being anti-social but want to stay connected to someone.
I enjoy the games we play... like "Roxbury", "spot the mullet", "look what your mom is wearing today" or "the biggest rack". Yes they mean what you think they mean.
I love the diversity of my friends. Each one is so different.
I love that they listen when I need them too.
I like the laughing the most. Heaven for me is finding someone who has a similar sense of humour. Thank goodness my best friend shares that with me - for if you can't laugh in your marriage, what can you do?
Thank you to all of you.
What an interesting little collection I have begun so far with the help of my family and friends!

Frau Nuering

2006-12-28T09:27:00.000-08:00

Here is another miniature tea cup that comes straight from Germany and is over 50 years old. My Oma gave this to me along with one of her interesting life stories. I love listening to her life stories and I often think she needs to write a book. Instead I guess I will write some in this journal. :) This cup was given to her by an elderly woman, "Frau Nuering". My Oma went to her home every morning for 5 years providing what we now call "home care". During those 5 years my Oma missed my mother terribly due to the fact she had moved to Canada to be with my father. She decided to take in a foster child at 47 years of age. My grandparents later immigrated to Canada, taking the foster child, then 16 with them. She repeats many times that Frau Nuering cried when she told her they were leaving the country.
This story has more details of course, but I can't help but think about the whole foster care system here in my city. In my line of work I deal with pregnant women from all backgrounds and situations. I deal with Child and Family services and I deal with many newborns, infants and toddlers. Some of the stories I hear weigh deeply in my mind and one day I would like to provide some sort of emergency or short term foster care to those who might need it the most. Sort of like my Oma. For now I trek through work and try to turn it off when I get home, having faith in the fact that many people have terrible things happen to them during childhood but turn out to be wonderful people. I am glad there is a place like my work who tries to help. I don't know how long I can stay in this type of work though, before it really affects my emotional health. I am glad I do not have any kids of my own - I don't think I could work in this field and come home to my own children with love and patience....
I do know that I am thankful that I had both my parents and their values to help raise me. I always had food on the table and a roof over my head. I know that my parents always did their best with what they had. I always had stories of my family's plight through WWII and grew up with an appreciation for peace in my country.

Koelner Dom

2006-12-25T20:00:00.000-08:00

This is a miniature teacup with a picture of the Cathedral in Cologne, Germany. It was given to me by my mother and represents my childhood summers spent there.

When I was 9 my Oma took me to Germany for the first time and I met my whole entire family. (There are only 5 members of my family in this city and 3 others in Canada as a whole….) We spent 2 months traveling around Germany but the bulk of the time was spent in a town called “Brauweiler” which is very near Cologne. Two doors down from our family’s place lived two girls a few years younger than me, Claudia and Caroline. We played together that whole time. I have fond memories of playing hide and seek in the farmer’s fields, and building wheat forts. I also remember we played a game where we would use sidewalk chalk to draw arrows on the cobblestone streets all over the town and then wait for the other person to find us in a secret place. So much fun! We picked fresh berries all summer long and ate them with whipped cream. We also picked chamomile flowers and made them into tea. Every hour in our small town we heard Church bells. I really miss those. I also miss opening the large windows from my room every morning and the fact that they had no screens. I guess I am too used to mosquitoes where I am from.

I developed a nice relationship with my mom’s cousin and her daughter that first year. They took me to all the old churches and castles and of course to the “Kölner Dom” – the picture on the cup. It was so tall. It was 504 steps (or so) to the top of one of the peaks, which we of course climbed. Going to Germany that year really showed me what my family was all about. I finally understood why we ate the foods we did and had the traditions we had. I was finally immersed in my native tongue and picked it up like wild fire. We spoke German in the home, but it really makes a difference to hear others speaking it too. I found I had an ear for picking up different dialects as well. I am so fortunate that every second year after that I was able to go back – thanks to my Oma! I also was a little sad that my brother never had the same opportunity. For some reason I was the right age and there at the right time for her to pick me. I have many other Germany stories but for now let’s leave it at the fact that I don’t plan to go back unless it’s with my brother.

Inspiration

2006-12-24T19:24:00.000-08:00

Well I didn't think I would be adding a new post so soon, but I received this tea cup as a gift. "It's not a Christmas gift," the person who gave it to me said, "but wait until the 24th to open it."
What would my collection be without a tea cup from the person who inspired me to do this in the first place, right?
She said that this tea cup matches me... it "says my name". I can see why she thought of me.

Over the last two years I began to take an interest in yoga. I went on a yoga retreat and learned and trained how to become a certified prenatal yoga instructor. This was a wonderful opportunity for me to grow as a person but I often lose sight of what I learned there. I continue to teach a simple yoga class for a few of the staff at my work every second week. (This is how I got to know this lovely woman.) It refocuses me and reminds me of my journey through life. This tea cup sort of does that to me when I look at it as well. I was thrilled when I saw it's beauty - the picture does it no justice.
Maybe this is a good time to reflect on some things.
You know... I try to be a good person. I try to be understanding and giving. Then something creeps in - negativity. It's almost toxic. I say things I regret, I feel things I regret and I make other people feel bad in the process. I suppose this is human nature.
Yoga teaches a kindness and respect towards all living things. It teaches patience and grace and the ablilty to really listen to what is going on around you. I sometimes feel like I wish I could start over in many situations. My reactive behaviours are quick and haven't been thought through. Feelings of jealousy, annoyance, impatience often creep into my being and it does no one any good. It is so easy to know and say these things but so hard to practice! I can point out the problems of any one around me - when I should be looking into myself to do the most repair. *SIGH*
I suppose some of this will also come with experience. Yoga that includes meditation should be added in higher doses to my schedule. Well... now I can finish a session with tea from my new tea cup. Given to me from a person who is currently going through some struggles of her own - I can't even express how much it means. So whether it screams my name or not, I love it. It's intricate design represents all the intricacies in my personality, but the repetitive pattern also indicates a sense of coming back to basics.
So my New Year's resolution this year is to practice tolerance and implement more kindness into my daily actions and thoughts. That of course includes being more tolerant and kind to myself as well ;)
Happy Holidays Everyone!

The First One

2006-12-22T18:40:00.000-08:00

So this is my first tea cup, and here is the story behind it.
My husband and I were very busy this November. We have been helping to plan 2 family weddings coming up in December, and all that goes with it. Not to mention throwing Christmas in the mix. To add to our busy schedule, my husband invited me to come along with him to a work related trip to Whitehorse, Yukon Territory. When else would I be able to go there? We had to make it work. I am so thankful we did.
My flight up there was of course delayed and "Air Can't" (Air Canada) had to put me up in an interesting hotel in Vancouver until the next flight to Whitehorse. I was exhausted and sad. But everything happens for a reason, right? On my flight the next day I saw the most amazing sight. It was a sunset from above the clouds. We were flying over the clouds and it was all dark except for one little crack where the most radiant orange and pink light was shining through. I tried to soak the sight in, tried to imprint it into my memory! I thought - I HAVE to remember this! I thought - Darn! I wish I were the type of person to keep a journal! It was just that beautiful. I am glad to write about it today.
I also had the fortune of meeting my "seat mate", Anne. She lives in Whitehorse and after talking she offered me a ride to my hotel, stating that cabs are hard to get. :) Her boyfriend asked us about the flight and said, "Show me on the dolly where the airplane hurt you." I found this to be extremely hilarious and of course asked him if I could use that line. With credit to Pete naturally. Why did I get into a stranger's vehicle in a strange town? I never claimed I listened to my mommy....
Other highlights of this trip are mushing with the muktuk kennel dogs, the Takhini Hot Springs and the various gift shops and local art in town.
My husband and I had to take separate flights. I should have said this earlier.
The flight home included a stay over in Vancouver, planned this time. I made my way to Granville Island for the day. I breathed in the +7 damp air... ahhhh. Feels good to a prairie girl in December. There were 4 women singing Christmas Carols out by the docks and I was in no hurry so I stayed and listened. Beautiful harmonies.
At one of the stores in Granville Island is where I spotted this tea cup. I looked at it and contemplated. I thought of this tea party I had been to. I started my collection. My first tea cup. I hope to use it and think of this trip, and driving down the Alaska Highway through the mountains.