Holiday Monday

I know many of us bloggers are stumped on Monday and even though it is not a holiday until tomorrow, I always feel sort discombobulated on these days. You know no plans just a whole list of things to do. I usually wash windows, well that has now been put off until tomorrow. I did some gardening. I cleaned the garage, around the car parts. I seem to have a lot more garbage on long weekends. But otherwise it's only another Monday.

And they lived happily ever after...

Well I did warn you that June was a month filled with celebrations. So I'll bet you're expecting yet another Happy column. Gotchja that's the end of our fun times for at least a week. Today is Jane and Michaels first anniversary. Jane is the daughter of my friend Leslie and her husband Larry. I remember only too well the preparations and the wonderful ideas Leslie had for the wedding. She is so creative. Everything down to flowers chosen had special meaning. She had a outstanding floral designer, who made a wicked Mojito. Her guest book design should be in some "Somerset issue. " I was so jealous that I didn't have a daughter. Just so I could plan things like this. I'll be the evil "MOTHER-IN-LAW" someday. Even the native blockade did not impede this special occasion. My friend Janice says the more things go wrong for your wedding day the better your life together will be. She was trying to cheer me up, when my niece was getting married and we had the blackout. Well the couples got married the day was magical and they are living happily ever after.

Heaven must be missing an angel...

This beauty is my niece Andrea. She is thoughtful, smart, organized, kind, a mother's right hand. (Many mothers are grateful). A great wife, granddaughter, daughter, sister, neice, aunt, cousin and friend. Well you get the idea. She will never disappoint you. She will never say no, if you ask for help. She will always do her best. She will always make you smile and she will always do the right thing. She makes us very proud.
Happy Birthday .

I'm adding these guys, because when she ran for class president her hair was styled just like the guys in this line up.

Watching Soapies

Today is Thursday, and I'm drop dead tired. I'm so thankful that I can watch soapies. I started to watch One Life to Live some 35years ago. Oh that's so awful. I was on switchboard releif at the Board of Education in Hamilton, and as I was the only one on the late lunch, I got to watch T.V. it was a way to pass the 1hr. without eating the whole time. In those days I could have eaten and still have been thin. Then when my son was born he seemed to want to nurse forever, and the doctor told me to occupy myself otherwise to remain calm, so I started watching General Hospital. Well you know you can go for a month and not really miss anything. So every once in awhile when I'm totally dead, I watch and catch up. I tried to get my mother hooked but it was a no go. So if you call and I say I'm watching soapies you must know I'm physically and mentally unable to do anything other than laundry. Thank God we don't have to go down to the river to do that anymore. I can remember scheduling myself at the Robert Simpson Co. so I could watch Luke and Laura get married the first time, and I think I might have put the election proceedings on a hold to watch them do it again recently. Nuts eh!

It's in the genes

As this blog was intended to be research for my novel, I'm finding it hard to not look around at the characters in my life. One such character is my brother-in-law. He is a most reliable guy. I could easily drop the in-law part. But , only if brothers could be fictitious. I don't know of anyone who has a brother that they get along with as well. Actually maybe I'll keep the in-law, it might keep the relationship where it's been. Well because of the relationship with my brother-in-law, we have sort of also adopted his mom. Well Babcia Annie has a birthday today. She's an unusually quiet lady, in some of her old pictures she was quite a looker, always in style. She's had quite a life, WWII was the reason she too came to Canada, but by a different route than my parents. I find that quite interesting. (I'm still thinking historical fiction here). And because I'd like to think mothers have something to do with the way their son's turn out, as I have two, I'd like to say Happy Birthday and Thank You to a lovely lady.

Back to Romance

Do you ever watch old movies. I don't mean black and whites. I mean like Get Smart, or Columbo. I sort of crash on Sunday afternoon and I watch Columbo, or MacMillan and Wife, or Mcleod. Remember when that series came out and it was a Sunday night special. Take note in the advancements that have taken place in law enforcement, in technology. Compare these to the CSIs of today. My kids laugh at me for watching these shows. And while we know Columbo will get his man, and Sally and Mac will solve whatever crime is being committed, we also know that there would never be a cop like Mcleod for long in New York today. I slept with a cop for 29 years, I know. So of all these men ( and other than Sally and Mildred, the wife and maid) all these heroes were men. Even these things have changed. Where am I going with all this? Well I need to decide when my romance novel will take place. What time and where globally. I had always thought it would be historical fiction, but apparently that doesn't sell too well. I'm not sure I'm interested in selling. After all my husband needs to keep working. So I've been watching and taking notes on places I'd like to dream of having a romance in. Haven't decided on the hero yet. I know that once I meet him I will not even consider any other. We're not talking love here, just romance. Or could it be the romance of all time and love just happens.
Remember "Love Story" with Ali and Ryan O'Neil. Wasn't that sappy. I think I'll have to have the hero have some more horrific secret. (part of the formula) O.k. the first 5 comments that suggest a horrific secret will get a cameo appearance in the book. And if I use your suggestion well you might be the other woman.

P.S. Yes the cop I sleep with has a raincoat just like that, I would not allow him to wear it all wrinkled like that. After all I have that fabulous iron, but that's another blog. He's perhaps not as clever as Columbo, but he's certainly as annoying.

Weekly Challenges

Over the past several months I have become aware of many of the sites I visit having weekly artistic challenges. I have not had the guts to take one of these challenges on. I wish I was that creative. My biggest challenge is actually acting on some of the ideas I have. I try really hard to be creative in my gifts to my family and friends. For example my niece just graduated I'd love to create something so special that she'll want to keep it forever. My other niece is turning 30, again I'd love to create something unique to match her personality. My enemy is time. It use to be money and then I sent my husband out to get another job. But here I sit thinking of what to do, my body is exhausted, my mind is flat and my house full of ideas I didn't get to. So how will I say congratulations grad , or happy birthday. I keep thinking and thinking and just when I get a scathingly brilliant idea I am reluctant to act on it, just in case the recipient does not like it. I know, I know I should be creating instead of blogging, but that's all I have the energy to do. Thank God for laptops. How do you feel when you receive a hand crafted gift. I like to think I'm a little more professional and achieved as an artist to say it's a piece of art, not crafts. I'm not talking macaroni art. I always say "if you don't like it you don't have to keep it" but I somehow think they do and just hide it someplace in a drawer and eventually it goes to that special place all unwanted gifts go. Help! Express yourself, do you like getting these kinds of gifts.

I've had to edit this post, on Tues. as I think I will not get any comments from my family. They are terrified they'll get stuff as gifts and not store bought items.

A rose by anyother name

Andzia Wojtowicz Rose
Rose photo by R.K. Nowak

Yesterday was garden day, or so I thought. Every time I got out there and got into the thick of things, it would rain. I've come to the point in my life where I give myself a daily goal, or a task goal, so for yesterdays goal, in between down pours, was to weed out my rose garden. Well the task was not that difficult, a little prickly, but done. I thought I'm getting good at this, and while I still need to amend my soil and mulch the whole works, I can look out at breakfast and "smell the roses."

A number of years ago, when I was assisting my mother in her extensive rose garden, I commented that I liked one particular rose. Of course my mother and her friends use to exchange rose clippings, plant them and cover them with a jar and viola you had a bush. Thus, every rose in my mothers garden has a friendship attached to it. My garden of friends may not be quite as flowerful but none the less there are a few. The rose in the picture is one my mother clipped for me and planted in my own garden, she actually did three specimens, not trusting my gardening abilities, and they are all growing beautifully. The friendship attached to this rose was Angia Wojtowicz. When we were kids we loved it when Pani Wojtowicz would come over, because she always had dinner ready (meaning we didn't have to do anything) and (dishes would be done) our chore aswell. She made the BEST meatballs. She was an all around pleasure to have visit. So the saying by annonymous about fragrance of the flower remaining on the hand of the giver is quite accurate. Every time I prune around this rose I shall think of those meatballs and Andzia.

Just as a foot note, R.K. Nowak is my brother, I think he takes a great picture, even if he doesn't take many. Scrapworthy.

When it rained and I was forced to come in, I sorted pictures.

I know Martha does that thing with the roses, but I have not been able to find any information on how to do it. My mother-in-law also does it, but as both my mothers are not physically able to do this, if anyone knows how to do it I'd love to learn how. I'd like to keep some of my mothers friends in my garden too.

Our Grad

Each year at this time of year we have a wonderful event to look forward to. One of our children graduate. This year our lovely Nicole graduated from Secondary School. She has given us a lot of pleasant and fun memories as she grew, many laughs and some tears (good ones). As you may know Nicole's mom is a Creative Memories Consultant and over the last ten or so years we have created school days memories books or our children. Nicole had some wonderful adventures at school. We hope they continue to be great and we know she will continue to be a caring, contributing person as she goes out into the world. CONGRATULATIONS GRAD

photo of a photo I own.

Adventures in dining

I don't eat out much. I kind of like my own cooking. I really like to know who's hands were in my food, however one cannot live on soups, fabulous as they might be and chicken and potatoes. If my boys had it their way we would eat pizza everyday. The only times I get to eat something a little different are when I go out. It's usually Tai, or Chinese. Well tonight we are sticking to good old meat and potatoes Canadian. The sisters are off to dinner at the Keg. Barb, my youngest sister is driving, so by the time she picks up Alice, Alice will need a double of something. Alice is a very nervous passenger. Barb is a very fast and free driver. Barb will have water, because she will have talked alot and need refreshment. Donna will be somewhat late. Donna is always busy. And they will be picking me up at a craft store. Dinner will be lovely. We'll all talk a lot and need water. I always find it amazing that even though we were all raised in the same home our own kitchens are so different. Alice makes full blown meals for company and her family, you know, roast beef, meat on a stick, lasagna, salad with too much dressing. Donna does the more English, roast beef with Yorkshire pudding boiled vegetables and lots of gravy, Barb is pasta first kinda gal. I on the other hand always like to start with a soup, pizza soup, or leek and mushroom. Yesterday at my mothers I made her Celery and Pear soup. It was quite good. She had a neighbor in to visit and her PSW and they both wanted the recipe, a sure measure of success. Today she will have bean and bacon, also a crowd pleaser. Mondays soup will be sweet potato and parsnip, Doris' recipe. That one she eats a little reluctantly, I think it might be a stronger flavor than she likes. Tough. My kids were not hearty eaters when they were young, so I always tried to slip some nutrition into the meal, you know, like shredded apple into your coleslaw, or mashed cauliflower with your potatoes. They always caught on, but so far my mother has not, so even though she says she can't eat and apple or and orange, she gets it some how. I find it an enjoyable challenge to do these things. Zucchini chocolate cake is a good one. I tried to slip her a glass of orange juice yesterday, she caught me. I'm not sure why she thinks she can't have orange juice, but she does. If she keeps this up we'll be playing the mystery fruit game. When Daniel was little he didn't like his fruits touching each other, like in a fruit salad. So we would put on a blind fold, usually a ninja turtle head band so you could be a ninja at the same time, and he would eat his fruit and try to guess what it was. Could you imagine me doing that with my mother and some authoritative figure coming into this scene and think what is going on? Well I'll reserve the ninja head band for more desperate times. I have only received one comment on favorite drinks, so tonight I may be indulging in a Lichee Martini. Cheers. (perhaps my readers are not drinkers, you liars you!)

To Blog or not to Blog

I'm late with my post today. It's been a very long day. In working a little each day on my romance novel, one of the very largest tasks, and the one with which this blog is of assistance is the "Outrageously Rude Interview". I'm to answer all these questions about my characters and plot of my novel. One of the many is "Do you like to drink? WELL. I like to drink water, and coffee and juice is o.k. but tea is my hot drink of choice, and as I think the question really is asking about liquor, I'll have a more extensive answer. I like to drink my tea with Black Sambuca. A habit I acquired at the last federal election. If you recall the last federal election was the one held over the Christmas Season. It was a very long pre election period, fifty six days, rather than the usual 36.(I hope I remember correctly). Anyway, we had a lot of nasty winter weather, and many of us in the office were, first tired, but also coming down with various cold like symptoms. Our Returning Officer looked after us very well, she needed to, we were necessary to facilitate the electoral process. Anyway, I think I was probably the only tea drinker, brought my own tea pot and all. And I suppose one day when I was under the weather she slipped me some Sambuca, and I've been hooked ever since. I like to have a glass of wine with a nice meal. I like to have a Rum and (real) Coke with friends at a party, and of late I'm liking a beer with my pizza. So I guess the answer is yes I like to drink a little bit. My husband can tell you I'm a cheap date, mostly because after he buys the first drink, I'm usually on my own. I rarely get asked if I would like another. So today after a very long day, I'm having a tea with the big S. I'm eating mac and cheese so I can't justify drinking wine and I'm alone so no rum either. So another question gets checked off. I'm curious to know what everyone else likes. I would like my characters to be a little different from me so go on send me comments. I'll buy you a drink.

Get Sorted

I've been reading all these tips on organizing your home, and office and craft room. Well I've been trying to do all that this last month. It's not happening. I've run out of house and garbage bags, and recycling containers and I'm still full. I loved Leslie's baggie suggestion, and Linda's magnetic board suggestion, and have incorporated both those. Then of course I have tupperware( which has expired for food use) and rubbermaid and all those Creative Memories sorting containers and now what. Everything is labeled and in appropriate locations and they have outgrown my facilities. I've gotten more ideas for projects than I know I will live long enough to complete. I've now decided that I must schedule completion of all these things. I've been very good at keeping notes for my book. I've kept notes for my garden. I've organized the data entry for my cookbook. I think I shall have to make a schedule like we had in high school. Then I could just rotate. Part of the creative process I think is handling all these supplies. If my sisters remember, whenever my mother had a break in sewing she would fold and re fold her fabric. The creative juices would flow. Well I'd love to see Carmi's or Sue Williamson's studio just to see if they work the way I do. Or do they have a more organized chaos. Both these ladies create wonderful works. And Leslie, well she is very creative, and organized, but as soon as we put things away, projects don't get completed. HELP!

The song/word of the day

I don't know how many of you are aware of this program on CFRB radio, but each morning, especially on Sunday I am awaken at 6:10 to listen for the song of the day. This has been going on for some months now, apparently my husband has been trying to win a trip, (so he doesn't have to pay for it). Well he will not be celebrating a second honeymoon if he continues this crap. Then at 9ish he continues to listen to the Bill Carol Show. I am so reluctant to tell you all of this in case you listen and catch the insanity. Being that Andy is hard of hearing he listens to all of this loudly, so you can't help but hear. Anyway, today the big discussion on the talk show was regarding a woman who's daughter is autistic, apparently she was reported to the Children's Aid Society on the insights of a psychic(not sure if that is spelled correctly). Well, you can imagine the comments at home I had to endure. And out came the Gypsy files. I've been hoeing out papers of no importance, sorting and get rid of unwanted pictures, books etc. So some of the Gypsy files have been reduced considerably. That's the activity for the day I suppose. I made him re chalk the shower yesterday, I believe we might be getting a new shower door.

Have we come to this. Has society become so afraid that on the insights of a psychic we torment parents. Who the heck hired that principal, and where are her brains, maybe she left them at the RAM. (You know the bar at the university) I hope this parent files a grievance with the Teachers College.

It made me think of my mother. You're probably sick of hearing about my mother. But, my mother use to read cards. I remember when I was a child of about 12, this family would come every once in awhile to have their cards read. Apparently my mother's insights help locate the one woman's child who was taken by her husband. My mother use to freak out if we had been playing fish with her cards, and there was usually only one deck in the house. She always claimed that she couldn't read cards that some one had lost or won on, and heaven forbid if we actually used pennies. She would never read our cards. I'm sure she told us how she learned to do this, I think it must have been from the gypsies in Siberia. She never ever would have allowed Andy to be persecuting them as he does, if she was aware of it. I'm starting to think we will have to add the income from 222TIPS to our taxes next year. Anyway here is my song of the day. It's a winner.

Happy Anniversary

Well as you've probably assumed June is a full month, we have Grads and Dads, birthdays and anniversaries. I know my sister Alice will call and say "What were you doing 29 years ago today? Well in the morning I'm sure I was assembling my hat and veil, and as I was having real forget me not's on the crown of it, I'm sure I was picking them in Mrs. Sagan's garden. Then of course was the hair, my friend Mary was so nervous, that her mother ended up doing my hair. We had a horse and buggy drive us to the church, the day was quite hot, so our friend Jerry Ostrowski was giving the carriage drivers beer, they were QUITE refreshed. We didn't expect people to come to the house, but there they were, tons of people. The driveway was packed. Andy the groom had had a late night,and a lot of refreshments, and arrived, by car, a little late. Alice and I were frying chicken wings, and making center pieces the day before so the house smelt of grease. So before the I do's we had quite an interesting morning. After the church we took pictures in front of the old Nugent House, my niece Jennifer, who was a flower girl, decided it was too hot to look cute in her dress, so she stripped and wanted to run through the sprinklers, which my mother had on to water her flowers. Priorities eh! We ran out of beer before dinner started. Oh what else can I say. When Andy carried me over the threshold, he ran into the door frame and I had a bruise on my arm the size of Montreal. So what was I doing? Obviously I was having a blast. And it's been that way for 29 years. So Happy Anniversary HONEY.
Photo of the house next door.
I'd like to play Happy Anniversary, by Charles Aznovar, but I can't seem to be able to figure out the download. Maybe next year. P.S. the tree on the left is the one under which we layed to watch Ruth go to church. (blog, lady in yellow dress)

This handsome young man is my Dad. He was a quite the army guy, back when the army was considered a very noble profession. In those days if you were not in the army you were most certainly a misfit. Anyway. He was a Lancer in the Polish Army. He fought in the Second World War. Was a POW at Majdanek, along with my uncle Dominic. (Talk about two peas in a pod.) They both escaped from Majdanek and went to Siberia together with my mother. After two long years in Siberia, General Sikorski reassembled the polish troops. They ventured to rejoin the battle, traveling through many a country in the process. I know he was in Bethlehem at Christmas and often talked admiringly about Israel, the Dead Sea and more. He was part of the Polish Unit that conquered Monte Casino, and that battle was often a topic of discussion with his brother. At some point after the war he wound up in England, and then he my mother and my uncle set out to Canada. After a year or two in the mines, out in British Columbia, they set out to Hamilton. He was an employee of the Steel Company of Canada, as it was then called. (now it's been sold out to the U.S.) He loved music. For years he drove around young musicians to practice and performances even though my brother had quit the band. When we were in elementary school, he would often, after coming home from night shift, drive us to St. Helen's School and stop at the variety store and buy us lemon tarts for our lunches. He picked up old ladies to come to fittings for whom my mother was sewing, his best friend was Stan Sobczynski, and he maintained a good relationship with his brother Domenic until he died. This July will be 30 years that my father has passed away. Since my siblings and I have been catering to our Mother for that long a period we have gained a new respect for my dad. One of his favorite songs was "The Night Chicago Died" he made me play the tape when he drove me back to my dorm room at Sheridan College. So Happy Fathers Day, TATA



I can't help thinking of the fathers of television we grew up with. You know "Father Knows Best, " MY Three Sons, and The Donna Reed Show, Leave it to Beaver. There were quite a few. Do you suppose these were meant to be lessons on parenting, subliminal eh! So a tribute to all the Dads who were paying attention.

Saturday Morning Rush

A number of years ago we were told that in the computer age things would be so fast that we would only need to work four days a week. Well for most of the work force that has not happened. We seem to do more and more all the time. We keep ourselves busy, we keep our kids busy and then when they grow up they keep us busy. Saturday morning use to be clean the house for moms and dad would cut grass, or do household repairs, kids would watch cartoons. Well I don't know about anyone else's house but that does not happen in my house, anymore. For years now my eldest son has had a job, and when he didn't he always had somewhere he needed to be. Now my youngest is off to work on Sat. morning, yes it's just a part time job but, my nest is getting emptier and emptier. My husband and I hustle around me making lunches, Andy driving them to jobs, or trains or something. But there is no such thing as a relaxing Saturday morning, or any morning anymore. We all sort of crash on Friday night from the school week, and then it's Saturday already. Where is our four day work week. I could go for a Ninja Turtle or Ghostbuster cartoon right about now. And a few little toy cars around the house, instead I have rearend coil sitting in my kitchen, for a full size vehicle. I've just finished empting the bumpers in my backyard of rain water, and I guess I'll have to drop a mosquito puck in so I don't get West Nile Virus. Yes Saturday Morning is a Rush, and so is every other day of the week. We could sure use an eighth day couldn't we. I think I might start a campaign. I shall be accepting suggestions for a name. How about Sloday? No stores would be open, no schools, and no one would be able to leave their homes. They would be forced to watch cartoons.

Freshly squeezed boobs

Well today was one of those days that you get a call from your local Women's Health Center and go for a mammogram, and ultra sound of your breasts. As my family history dictates, I must go for a mammogram every year, and on occassion I get called back, and on occasion I have an ultra sound to clarify some mystery radiologists find. When I walked into the clinic it gives you the feeling of a Spa. Spa my a..ss. Pardon my French. Of course your change room has a lovely bench and a really nice sink, where you are asked to wash up. Nice towels rolled up just like a spa, pot pour and all. The receptionist is polite and although somewhat robotic as accommodating as one can expect. Then and elderly volunteer escorts you to "The Room". I wait, and wait, and wait, it seems there is some difficulty with my file, like "IT IS MISSING". So I get to wait some more until everyone in the department takes their turn looking for it. Finally someone decided to tell me. My momma didn't raise no fool, I kind of figured it out, they lost it. I approached the receptionist asking how much longer I would be, as now people are starting to leave for the weekend, and I just inquired as to, did they return it by chance in error to the Credit Valley Hospital, which is not where I was. OH! she said, maybe. Again I suggest rescheduling the appointment, but they say "no just give us 10 more min." So I do. They finally find it in the out going mail pile and then I'm in. I'm under the usual squash, and a repeat squash just to make sure. And then we'd like you to have an ultra sound. So off I to that, and then you listen to the technician hyming and hahing like she's found a lump the size of an orange or bigger. You clean up and wait, and wait. We are now into hour # 3. And then you get called back in just for one more look, The DOCTOR would like to take a look. I'll never forget waiting with an elderly lady one time. She came out with this big smile on her face, saying "I've always been told my breast were spectacular. (I think the report is "there is nothing outstanding). I thought with all these call backs I better get someone say my boobs were spectacular or else. They sure were sore. Well no outstanding news, not yet anyway.
Recently one of my painting pals was diagnosed with breast cancer on one breast then on another, and then a hysterectomy for good measure, then some skin cancer all in a time frame of 3 months. So you can imagine what was going through my mind with all this waiting. My painting pal attended a fund raising event where they were selling these Breast self-examination kits. It is the most amazing invention, it's a gel pack you can feel grains of salt like they were the size of rice. The intention is for you to feel a lump when it is still very small, or not to miss a small lump. I think if and when I get the green light after all this squeezing, I shall routinely use my kit. With all those pink ribbons in stores and so much fund raising going on to end breast cancer days, I wonder how close we are. I sure hope they improve their mammography equipment, I'll be sore for a week now. So don't touch my freshly squeezed...

photo insert or a kizmo I purchased to check my boobs.

Washi Summit

What is a Washi Summit you ask, well if you have read Leslie's blog you would know. Anyway, you know Leslie and I cannot stand it if we do not know how to do something. Sooooo we took a class with a lovely lady Barbara from Sweden who came to do some teaching and exhibiting of her work in Washi. While we were in this class there were three of us, (who spoke out loud) with aging/ailing parents. I know a dear friend of mine suggested strongly I read the book "The 36 hour Day". I bought it, and I believe I donated it to the book fair last year. I could not bring myself to read a book that I and my siblings are living through. I know probably all of you have gotten one of those emails telling of the elderly parent eating in the corner in a rugged bowl away from the family dining room table, and then the son/daughter of that parent wonders what his small child is doing, when he responds "I'm carving a bowl so you can eat with your hands in the corner when you are old daddy." It breaks our hearts when we read it, it breaks our hearts when we live it, but what to do. It sounds as though this family is still caring for their aged parent with in the circle of their own home. Some cultures have rules that they go by as to who gets the elderly parent. A more common way is to look to outside agencies to help us with this very demanding task. I can tell you that I see myself in my mothers situation all too soon. And the thing is we talk about it with our friends and co-Washi workshop participants and the story is the same all around. I don't think my siblings and I are selfish, I think we do the best we can. But what is too much. If anyone comes up with the answer please, please tell me. I do think that if it were not for Washi Summits and Memoranza's and Creative Needlework Conventions, one could go mad, thinking always that you were the only one going through these all too difficult decisions. But what decision to make? The agencies presently designated to assist families like mine with the aged parent are grossly underfunded and understaffed with individuals who lack the training or ability to deal with all that is placed before them. So are institutions the only solution? They too are not so readily accommodating. I personally hope I don't live long enough to have to put my children through these rings. It is quite a circus. I'll bet our elderly never knew the meaning of "The Golden Year". Some Golden Years. Let's hurry and find the fountain of youth, or at least another Washi Summit.

Good Night

I often can't sleep at night. I'm not sure if it's the guy next to me snoring, the kid who is coming home late, or is it my age. When my boys were little if they couldn't sleep I would just stroke their heads, or tickle gently their backs, and eventually they would relax and dose off. My niece Andrea loved to have you run your fingers through her hair and she would be fast asleep. Now her niece is enjoying much the same pre-beditme treatment. My niece has gone back to work after her maternity leave, and the baby is having to break in a new caregiver. Her Grandmother. Sleep is one of those things that can be elusive. I don't think I've had a good night sleep since I became a mom. Daniel was such a procrastinator at bed time. First there would be the negotiation of what time he could stay up till, then he would need more than one story, of course he needed to brush his teeth again, they still felt dirty, then there would be the "I need a drink". Then you would have to go to the bathroom. By then I would be so tired of going up and down the stairs, that I would just lie down with him to keep him there. Often times when my husband would come home from afternoon shift I would be fast asleep and Daniel would still be sitting there talking at me. I would then have to get up and go to my own bed, and before you know it Daniel would need something again. He grew out of the routine when he was about 4 but, continues to come into my room to tell me just one more thing. So you see if I fall asleep, my other self thinks this is all wrong you need to be awake, or ready to wake up. So you see when I sit down in the afternoon, I just crash. I just never get enough. We've talked about getting just the right bed, having your own room, dark, cool or warm enough depending on what you prefer. But is that really the right formula. My assignment today is to research the perfect bed mate. I'm sure this part will be complete fiction. Good Night, sleep tight don't let the bed bugs bite.

Lady in Yellow dress

When I read Leslie's blog today, I clicked on Carmi and saw all the buttons. The lady in yellow dress reminded me of Ruth. I don't know what her last name was, but in the summer my sisters and I would line on the front lawn of the Nugent house under those 200 year old pine trees and wait for Ruth to go to church. You can imagine how early we did this, since we then went to get dressed and went to church ourselves for 11 a.m. Even though my mother was a dressmaker we never got frilly dresses and everything was made so it could fit someone else when we grew. Ruth's mother obviously liked them, and Ruth wore them every Sunday. My favorite was the yellow one. Her hair would be all teased and everything. I always thought when I got so old that everyone would think I lost it I'd get myself one of those dresses and wear rumba panties with knee socks (another thing my mother did not do.) And lots of lace, and frills. Just like Baby Jane, from the movie. When we started to sew for ourselves we did some pretty things, but by then we were too old for frills and rumba panties and knee socks for that matter. We did make some pretty neat stuff though. My sister Donna had a really nice navy linen suit with a pink blouse and a "Virgin Pin" remember those. I only remember Alice making maternity pants, she was not a sewer. Although now that my mother is somewhat confused she gives Alice all her alterations. Barb was a great hemmer, she could do a hem like nobodies business (what ever that means). And Donna and Alice and Veronica had these pop tops that had three ruffles on the bottom, gingham if I remember correctly. I think I'm the only one that ended up sewing for a living. (Did I mention that I live in poverty). I have some lovely fabric though. I don't think my mother ever bought us any dresses everything was had sewn. I guess being a dressmaker it would be bad for business if your kids wore store bought clothes.To this day I have difficulty shopping for clothes. I have now set some criteria, I only sew wool, silk and linen and dress up clothing. As I don't go out much, I don't sew much. When I buy something I could have made, I hear my mother voice, "why couldn't you make that". If she only knew. All this talk of yellow dresses has made me think, I think I have a yellow dress started someplace. I know I must have fabric. Well I guess we know what I'm doing today. in the photo you'll see my mother made all our dresses, no frills, no knee sock. Donna, my cousin Kaz, Alice and Barb.

OH! Donna

When my parents came to Canada some 60 years ago, they tried very hard to become part of the communities they lived in. But no matter how hard you try it's hard not to remember your homeland. As more and more immigrants from Poland came to the Hamilton area a real sense of Polish Community

Crows

One of my many activities includes stamping. The stamp of the week was crows. I'm not terrible fond of crows. When I see crows I can't help thinking of "The Birds" or "The Raven". Coincidently I'm reading "The Tell Tale Heart". After reading "Too close to the Falls, in which the Tell Tale Heart is mentioned. I realized I had not read this, so off I walked to the library and picked it up. It's actually quite disturbing. So when the design team brought forth the crow stamp, I just couldn't be creative, but many of the designers were. Take a look you'll be quite amazed.

It is amazing what creative people come up with. Don't you just wonder how that happens.

I think I might look at crows a little differently ... well maybe. I know when they are out there in my yard, I must have grubs, and that means work.

Que Sera Sera

I was born in the early 50's. In my profile you'll see that I love to listen to Doris Day Weird huh! I'm nothing if not weird. I just felt like listening to Que Sera Sera the other day and when I Googled it, I got all kinds of interesting facts about Doris. I have a dear friend named Doris. Haven't seen her for awhile, but she always puts things in perspective for me re: my boys. Being the mother of 3 adult boys she is so calm I sometimes want to shake her up and say get mad. I'm sure she does. I met Doris during World Youth Day. Doris and I volunteered at our Parish. We were then permitted to attend many of the attractions, of course I was on the security committee, (I don't know why, but people assume your a cops wife, you must know everything there is to know about security)anyway, I arranged a security pass for Sasha since he was too young to participate, and Daniel was working and off Doris, Sasha and I went downtown, on the bus. She nearly died when I suggested it, having driven everywhere all the time. Well when we got off the subway at Parliament, it was very crowded, and I was not sure about the direction, so I went to ask one of our boys in blue, (leaving Sasha with Doris, you know Sasha often wears orange so I thought no problem I'll find them even in a crowd>) Well! when I got my directions straightened out I got turned around and panic set in, here I was a responsible mom, leaving my child with a woman I hardly knew and she TOOK him, (did I mention Doris isn't very big, and if push came to shove Sasha could beat her up if need be.) Anyway that orange head and shirt came through and I found them, my heart jumping out of my chest, they were just where I left them waiting patiently. We had a wonderful evening together and Doris has been my friend since, and both my boys have grown to really care for her.

See how easily I am distracted. Back to Doris Day. I'm sick of my hair. So I thought I'm going to look for a new do. I love the way Doris Day always had her hair so groomed. We don't see that in our young actors anymore. Look at Jennifer Aniston, a lovely young lady, but don't you just want to comb her hair. So I'm checking out Doris hairdos for inspiration. I even think I'm going back to being a blond, I truly think I have more fun. Sometimes I don't recognize myself in the mirror with this brownish tone.

What does this have to do with my romance novel you ask? I'm trying to do a physical profile of my heroine. Doris Day it's you! Maybe a little spicier, but definitely with combed hair. ().

Beautiful Beautiful Boy

Nineteen years ago today I gave birth to a perfect little boy. He had orange hair. He cried a lot. He snuggled a lot and it was wonderful. I am so proud of him I could burst. He is my Tech support all the time, and generally a great kid. He'll make a wonderful husband and father. When he finds the perfect woman. He'll be a successful author someday or something else, but he'll always be a nice guy. Happy Birthday Sasha. I can't say anymore other than you are a

Road Trip !

When I first moved to the GTA I was very alone. My family was in Hamilton and although that doesn't seem like far, on a bus it's a day trip. My good friend, Karen, at the Robert Simpson Company (where I worked) did the scheduling and as we like to work together Thursdays became our night shift. But what to do in the a.m. When I think about it, she really did schedule everything. So we took a pottery class. We lunched after and went to work. Good Times. When she got married she started to schedule herself at different times and pottery was a no go. But I was hooked, on Thurs a.m. anyway. So for the last 29 years Thurs. have been a play day. After pottery I took Ikebana. I'm almost certified. I am certifiable. I would have had to go to Japan for 6 months to get my certification, but instead I had Daniel. A birth certificate is a much nicer piece of paper than a diploma from the O'Hara School of Ikebana. He could have been born in Japan though. After Daniel was born Thurs. were his. And then Sasha was born. I really missed those play days. So when Sasha started in grade one. I went to play. I felt privileged to be invited to paint with a group of ladies with whom I have become great friends. While we don't paint on Thurs. anymore some of us paint on Wed. and scrap on Thurs. or stamp on Mon. or Sun. But, it was the usual thing for us to do, at the end of the school year, to go on a road trip, and out to an extravagant lunch. We've been to the Butterfly Museum, we've been to remote tea rooms in small towns, and hit a florist shop that we probably kept in business that season. But mostly we had some good laughs and good food. I highly recommend the Oban Inn in Niagara on the Lake. We don't really see each other in anyother way except on play days, an e mail here or there but what a great feeling it is when we look back to discussions of kids, teens, aging parents, health issues and of course painting. We've grown up in our painting. We are presently working on an alter art project. Looking Good. So today is Thursday and I would like to toast the Painting Ladies past and present. Salute. I think it might be time for a road trip. Photo painting ladies at the Butterfly Museum

Love ...

As most of you know I created this blog, daily if possible, as part of my research and development for my romance novel. Well today's notes from my instructor were. Can we write a true love scene. I don't know if I can. Her quote was one that we all have probably heard " If I know what love is it is because you love me." I'm not sure I know what love is. I know I love. I know my children love me (right now maybe just because I do the laundry). I know my nieces love me, they send me little notes indicating such. And I know I love them. But I'm not sure that's the kind of love you describe in a Romance Novel. I thought back to when my husband and I were first married, 29years ago. It's a little foggy. Was it love or lust. I think lust might just be a best seller. So if I set my keyboard on fire you'll all know it was a steamy scene.

You will probably notice that I have added a photo to my profile. I love this dress, it was one of my favorite designs. Pink wool crepe, pleated skirt and corded collar. Like the dollar store challenge Carmi dictates, our challenge was to use cording and not as a trim on the edge of our garment. I had hoped to be buried in this dress (might be too warm for where I'm going) but I don't think I can get into it anymore. I also cut my own hair, with a razor. Not bad eh!

Rain, Rain go away...

The last four days have been clean up days. Those of you who are familiar with my housekeeping will know that I don't worry about a little mess. I have certain criteria, NO BUGS, not too much dust, clean towels, sheets and dishtowels (especially dishtowels). When my husband is home I must use 12 dishtowels, during a one day, for some reason he thinks they are paper towels. Since I'm attempting to be environmentally friendly I don't use paper napkins or paper towels. So I wash a lot. Beyond that if my kids are fed and loved I'm happy. My friend read someplace that you should clean for 45 min. then take a rest for 20 min., and then45 min. work again and so on. Being the godmother of our resident scientist, I decided to experiment. It is supposed to be most efficient. I'm trying really hard to keep the schedule. During my rest periods I have tried to hoe out my excesses of magazines, paperback books, and sort through paper. Because I find this task very relaxing I did it during my rest period. WELL!
I discovered a leak in my studio. Now all of you who know my husband, know he will not hire someone to fix-it. So that means I have to move everything within 50 feet,( even though the room is a max of 12ft. x 18ft.) because you all know I will need new dry wall and carpeting, and possibly new electrical and plumbing work. So off I go moving all this fabric, wood, paper, paints, canvas, tables, upholstery projects etc. Since it's been raining pretty well the last few days we thought we would be able to narrow down where exactly this leak is. By now all the ceiling tiles are moved (in no orderly fashion) and there is a garage full of tools on the floor, all around the ladder. Well thank goodness the rain has continued today, and we were able to narrow the drip down to the pipe where my in house plumber used to put in the new taps. He was cutting corners I suppose and needed to put some plumbers crap around the connection. So the drip could possibly be fixed within the next month. Andy time, you know. I did however, in my 45min. work sessions clean an awful lot up. I vacuumed, connected wood pieces to patterns (in an attempt to reduce my clutter). I feel suddenly inspired to make a little girls dress. But first some alterations, I keep growing. So now the rain can go away, I'm ready to pull weeds.

May comes to an end...

When I was growing up in Hamilton, ON Catholic Schools were quite an elite group. You had to pay for your children to attend a Catholic high school. Of course my older sisters both attended, apparently my parents ran out of money when I got to that point. I do remember the whole city coming to a complete halt, when it was the Marian Day Parade. The Catholic High Schools would do a huge Marian Day Celebration at what is now Ivor Wynne Stadium. Traffic would be re-routed, parking was limited and you would just walk. The buzz equaled that of the Ti- Cats at their peak. The Cathedral Girls School would do the Living Rosary. At the end of this beautiful prayer the stadium would sing wonderful hymns and crown Mary with a crown of flowers.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/May_crowning. I don't know when this actually stopped in Hamilton, probably when we got public funding. We then had to be politically correct and let boys into the girls school and vise versa. One of the things we lost as a faith community in our funding deal. I know that the honoring of Mary the Mother of Jesus has not gone out of fashion as a matter of fact, one of the gardening newsletters I read had quite a article in it, with names of particular flowers that were inspired by Our Lady. The students at our elementary school planted a Mary Garden.

This Sunday at Mass the Legion of Mary Crowned Mary during our service. Many of the parishes in Toronto still do a Marian Day Parade, nothing as grand as Hamilton but none the less a wonderful celebration. I always feel we should honour our mothers not just on Mother's Day but everyday, so too I hope we as catholics will remember Our Mother in Heaven. A few days ago Leslie wrote about music. A song by Amy Grant called Breath of Heaven always makes me feel great. Check it out.

During the ongoing controversy of Catholic Education once again fingers are pointed at the waste of Catholic Schools. Let's remember that waste occurs everywhere, not just at "Catholic Boards" we just happen to notice it more, or so it seems. As a person who missed out, I have spent my adult years trying to catch up to the education my sisters got at the Catholic High School. It would certainly be economical to eliminate Catholic Schools, or so we are told. Dig a little deeper to be sure you are aware of the reason Catholic Schools exist. It really is a significant historical journey, not necessarily one of faith, but certainly one of commitment. I suppose I feel so strongly about this because I missed out, I made sure my children didn't. I don't know that it matters to them at the moment, but it will when they are dads. I'm sure of it. Keep the Faith.