Look at that summer fly by

I always say "It's been a very long day". Why is it not a very long summer. Here we are at the end of July and I still have planting to do. I always think "oh on summer vacation I'll have more time." What a load of Cr..p that is. I actually did get to do some furniture refinishing while I can open windows. And I'm ready to take inventory in my basement. I sure have enough wood to build an ark, and paint it beautifully as well. I'm as usual multitasking. I have a great looking chair started, I just can not have a painted chair at my entry, (I'll post the finished project later) I have a great gift almost finished for one of my wonderful nieces, and I have even decided on another project for my other other niece. And then I'll be ready for Christmas. Well maybe not, Halloween for sure though. I'm doing a self portrait on the side . Post that one later too. And it's almost time for back to school. O.K. I'm off, must hug my boys a little more, I hardly see them anymore. Hate that part of them growing up and me getting old.

Good Times, good friends

My friend of forty years and I take an annual trip to Niagara Falls each year. When we were single it was a walk at the falls and dinner in a restaurant we could afford. When our children were young we would take a picnic, now we spend the night and stretch out our visit. We had a lovely re-union with her mom and us in a very colourful room a little gambling and a very enjoyable show. We don't walk as well as we use to. Our feet were sore at the end of the day. We came home with a little extra cash in our wallets, and plans to do it all again soon.

Raining again...

There is something about continuous rain that gets people down, and we ought to get out from under. I've been trying. Once again sorting and cleaning is on my agenda. I've been working on my heritage pictures. I came across a letter my sister Barb and I had written to our uncle in the states (not mailed, just written) we were on a great high and thought he could help us with our genealogy. The date on the letter is July 20, 2006. I didn't even know I had it. I assumed Barb had mailed it. I was thinking he didn't want to help. Now I'm afraid he may not be able to. His health has changed considerably. The moral of the story is, mail every letter you write, and don't wait to talk to someone it might be too late. It is much the same story with my mom, she always meant to write down where she and my dad traveled throughout the war, it never happened. As my dad has now been dead for 30yrs. and my mother is no longer able to give the information the attention to make it accurate, that avenue into our family history is closed.We can only go on what history recorded for us, and some tidbits of information we got during late night sewing. (My mother was a dressmaker and made us help her when she was running late on a project, to keep us awake she would tell us these very dramatic life situations.)

See what happens when it rains, you clean and find all these things that lead yet in another direction. I haven't lost my way, I just don't want to clean anymore. Now that we have been talking about rain, I can only think of a song by Roberta Flack,... raining again I ought to get out from under. Now that's another mess to clean up (albums many many albums.)

look what happens when it rains...

]

Sunday morning...

This morning when I walked out it was raining so hard I felt like I was wading in the shallow end of a pool. Having never learned to swim, it prompted me to think of the people in the world who face floods over and over again. What happens to those who can't swim, like me? I can't imagine the feeling. What would you wear to keep dry, could you keep dry? I had an umbrella and water shoes and I still felt like a wet rat upon my arrival at mass, and that was only a few short blocks from home, about half an hour walk. Imagine it like this for days and days. I'd been praying for rain, just because I'm too lazy to water. Rain just seems so perfect on our gardens. I can remember around the time my brother was born, it was March. It had rained so hard the creek outside our home was almost at the top of the whole creek, which is probably 50feet deep. There were two families in the house next door, and the man from the upstairs unit was leaving for work at 5:30 a.m. when he closed the back door shut he slipped and slid right down the bank and hung on for dear life for quite some time before being discovered. I don't remember exactly who found him and how they got him out, (I'm sure Alice will). He was always a joker an we all laughed it off, but imagine what could have happened. I think that same spring they actually found a body floating in the creek, I don't recall any conclusion to that mystery, I'm sure my parents kept it from us as we were very young. Now the creek still runs, it has a highway built around it, the bank was just as slippery the other day when I checked it out as I remember, great for tobogganing in the old days, probably not so good now, especially as i think my tobogganing days are pretty much done. If this keeps up I think building an ark is certainly worth thinking about. When I assessed the watering of my garden everything looked o.k. except I sort of half expect my fish in the pond to be walking around on the grass, but they were fine. I guess the weeping tile I installed last spring really works. I'm getting pretty good at this construction bit. Too bad I won't be needing it for much longer as I'm not constructing anymore ponds, or renovating anymore kitchens or bathrooms. Stay dry.

When you thought I wasn't looking!


A message every adult should read because children
are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you hang my
first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately
wanted to paint another one.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a
stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind
to animals.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make my
favorite cake for me, and I learned that the little
things can be the special things in life.


When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a
prayer, and I knew that there is a God I could always
talk to, and I learned to trust in Him.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make a
meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I
learned that we all have to help take care of each
other.


When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of
your time and money to help people who had nothing,
and I learned that those who have something should
give to those who don't.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you take care
of our house and everyone in it, and I learned we have
to take care of what we are given.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw how you
handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't
feel good, and I learned that I would have to be
responsible when I grow up.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come
from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things
hurt, but it's all right to cry.


When you thought I wasn't looking I saw that you
cared, and I wanted to be everything that I could be.


When you thought I wasn't looking I learned most of
life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and
productive person when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking, you fixed my pond so it would be great!

When you thought I wasn't looking I looked at you and
wanted to say,'Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't looking!

Just when you think you know everything...

Just when you think you're old enough to know everything, you learn something new. Today is the feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. Mount Carmel is somewhere in Israel. My dad loved the Middle East, he often talked about the fabulous oranges, and olive groves there. This was a big deal to a man who had spent two years in the ice and snow regions of Siberia starving. What's the connection you ask. Well yesterday was also the 30th anniversary of my dads death. There are a great many beliefs and legends related to death and the Carmelites. Today we celebrated mass in his honour. I never connected the two until tonight, when my friends said I picked a special day to celebrate the anniversary of his death. I confess I didn't pick it. They say that those who honour Our Lady of Mount Carmel are blessed in death. I don't remember weather he did or not, but I think he must have been to the blessed site, during his stay in Israel. I know, I feel great about this coincidence. I thought I would be crying throughout the mass, but I felt very peaceful. My family will tell you I cry a lot at these things. Death is something none of us escape, and I hope that a peaceful one is something both my parents enjoy, after their very difficult lives. After all, if we are the Catholics we profess to be ,death should be a blessing. I've subscribed to a e newsletter for a number of years, "Saint of the Day" is always an interesting read, and I love the history of all these things. For those of you who do not believe, look at it as a lesson in History. I'm loving learning something new even at my age.

I've been reading one of Leslie's picks, "the many lives and secret sorrows of Josephine B." by Sandra Gulland, and I am just amazed at the historical research this author has done, and the faith connections often mentioned in the book. I like that. So when a connection is a personal one I find it even more fascinating. I know it sounds like you could find a connection in everything if you looked hard enough, and I do look. So do take a moment to reflect on my muse as far out as it may seem.

Postcards from vacations

I love seeing what is happening with my friends on vacation. Leslie keeps us well informed of her trips. I love it. I have a postcard my little niece sent me when the family went to Florida many many years ago. The printing was so cute, and the spelling. These are communications I have always cherished. I feel like I'm spending your vacation with you. I will not be sending out postcards, I don't travel much. And for the most part, other than Japan, I'm not planning to. So keep on sending me stuff, electronically or snail mail accepted.

There must be something wrong with me...

There must be something wrong with me. I had a short discussion with someone yesterday regarding taking a vacation. I'm really not interested. I found over the last three years the school year is so mixed up with the boys on different schedules, a husband who holds three or more part time jobs and my own obligations we hardly warm a spot in our home. A number of years ago when the boys were younger, we asked them what they would like to do for vacation. Well of course Daniel or Dan as he is now being called, wanted to go on a dig, and Sasha wanted to eat pizza in bed and watch television. So off we headed to Midland, there was a dig going on at one of the forts used by the early French missionaries and the public was welcome to join in. We then got a hotel room, ordered pizza and watched a rented movie in bed. How easy was that. We did a couple of other touristy things, and drove home quite satisfied to have spent the week together without interruption of the rest of our lives . Then in May of 2001 a group from our parish was going to Washington, and again that's what they wanted to do. So the boys and I went with a bunch of very senior members of our congregation and did a really touristy thing in Washington, we separated from the group a day and went to the Smithsonian, and took public transit from there to "Springfield" where we were staying. Even though I was bus sick the whole way there, it once again proved to be a rewarding vacation. I can't think of a block of time at present where we would all be available. That's the only thing that makes me sad. I can however, and just fake it. Stay home with my home boys and do some eating of pizza in bed, and dig in the garden. Sounds like a plan.

Gone Fishin'

I've decided I need to focus on a few things that have been badly neglected so my post will not appear regularly for a short time. Consider me gone fishin'.


I;m dying for a tuna sandwich. Ha Ha

I'm getting old, I think...

I think I might be getting old. Some of you may or may not know I've been and artisty type for most of my life. I find my sisters and brother all have different tastes than me. I like old and weird. In the last few years I've discovered paper arts. Beyond the friendship and atmosphere of doing paper arts I truly love to see the development of what I thought was new art. I must be old and out of it, but apparently these things have been going on for years. I am always in awe of the creativity of these young women, and it's mostly women who partake in these extravagant adventures. (Other than Philip) Since I've began blogging I keep getting lost in the blog world of artists. Bird in the hand, Carmi, Susan Williamson and more. I know these names are not household, other than in the world of paper artists. I am so amazed that a good many of these ladies are career artist, with family and husbands and homes and most of them work from a studio at home. I wish I had that kind of control over my time. I always seem to get distracted. For example, I have been trying to sort photos for our Christmas in July crop, only to discover that most of my Christmas photos are at my sisters home. Well that means a road trip. So I thought o.k. I'll get reorganized with my school days books. I didn't apply the 3 second rule*. I relived elementary school. And the day is gone, time to make supper, and what about that ironing I was suppose to do. So indeed I must salute the ladies who make a living as artists and have homes, and husbands and kids and some of you teach, a huge BRAVO!

So to conclude why I think I might be getting old, I'm finding some of the arts a little too weird for me. Is this the new wave? Will I be able to catch it? Should old people be doing the wave?

*the 3 second rule, is you limit yourself to looking at a single photo for 3 seconds and then get on with sorting.

I was so impressed with one of my friends at painting taking pictures of everything she had painted and then being able to part with it. I have decided to do that also,(and clean house) even though I don't have much of my work left. Getting ready to catch the wave. The photo is of two of my projects, the star book, I did a million years ago with Marisa, and an altered book dedicated to women the through ages.
( a work in progress). My studio and home are in such a state that I had a hard time finding an appropriate location to take this photo, so it's on a chair that I will be upholstering in Sept. yet another adventure. the leather is reserved for full metal jacket books.

Cancel my class will you.

Today I was to take a class with Carolyn Disher. Carolyn is the lady that instructs us in bookbinding. I'm so hooked. I've now done several different designs and incorporated these into my collection of recipes. Unfortunately the class was canceled. I guess July is not a month people want to make a small woven book. I thought o.k. that's another recipe book on the shelf. So I guess I will have to iron. For our 25th Wedding Anniversary, my sisters bought me a wonderful iron. I've been ironing uniform shirts for 25 years before, of course my husband retired. No shirts to iron you think. No such luck. Now I iron more than uniforms, with three men in the house, and everyone wanting to wear 100% cotton, I have more ironing than I would like. So instead of having a creative moment I'll do my duty and iron. Or maybe I'll do an inservice and teach them to iron their own shirts. But then they would need to learn to use a hanger, wouldn't that be an achievement.

Perhaps I'll get distracted.

I think I must have walked around the world at least once...

I think I must have walked around the world at least once, or so I thought. I signed out a pedometer from our local library on Canada Day and decided to record my steps just to see if it is possible. Well I'm so tired at the end of what I thought was a long walk, and it's only a couple of thousand steps. I read that you should do a min. of 10,ooo steps to make any difference in your health. Well I've been doing it for years and I don't seem to lose any weight, all I get for my trouble is tired. I'm seriously thinking of stopping and being a non- walker. I just don't have the commitment necessary to join a gym or go on a diet, and I refuse to pay for getting tired. So what to do with this hangover.*

I like to refinish and paint chairs, they are usually old wooden chairs with unusual designs. I have noticed that the seat portion of the chairs was generally much smaller than the chairs we have today. So we are all getting bigger, not just me.

Getting back to painted chairs, I think I like to do this because I always feel tired and the prospects of sitting and resting is so appealing. So if you have chairs of a variety of ages check them out re: size. Maybe I'll just buy bigger chairs and not worry about losing my hangover.

The chair in the photo is my winter version, it usually sits at the front door enabling us to put our boots on with ease. Huh! but you have to bend over, but that's another blog. What prompted me to talk about chairs. I have my eye on a chair in my husband's aunt's basement. I can see a lovely watermelon design on it. Do I dare ask?

*a hangover is the part of your butt that does not fit onto the chair, thus you hangover.

Great Dame

The one thing I can count on is Agatha Christie. I love Agatha. I almost named my daughter after her. She's not as well known as Mary Westmacott, the name she used to write her romance novels. I just finished reading Black Coffee, I know how it will all work out, but none the less at the end of a difficult day, it's like a comfy pair of slippers to slip into a Hercule Poirot mystery. I know I will never write 80 novels, I would have to live a long long time, and I know that I will not be a great dame, but she inspires me, the persistence, the very British attitude, and the in between History lesson. Love it, love it, love it. A ride on the Orient Express is the the Biggest thing on my Bucket List, and there better be a murder, and no gypsies involved please.

Dame Agatha Christie, Wikepedia.

What goes around comes around?

By now you will have guessed that I'm pretty brain dead on the days I spend with my mother. There always seems to be some urgency at her house. Last week it was a visit from a friend who brought flower. Imagine that someone feeling overwhelmed when they receive flowers. Not me I'm delighted to get flowers of any kind. I would truly prefer not to get any at my funeral, but to have them now. Anyway the urgency of last week was that her dusters (those old lady housecoats they insist on wearing) are all tool long. Alice must have done something with them in the wash. Forget about the fact that my mother has osteoporosis and is quite likely shrinking. I know we could call her the incredible shirking pain in the neck. So in addition to the trousers that have elastic waistbands that are too tight, so I'm replacing them, I now have dusters to shorten. And then I had a scathingly brilliant idea! When we were children, there were four sisters, we always had dresses that were hand me downs, so they were too long, and my mother would put several tucks at the hemline so you could just let a tuck out as you grew. Well by the time the tucks came out the dress had been washed a million times and was faded except for the tucks. So you know how attractive that was. So I think that's what I'm going to do, put tucks into the dusters. After all what goes around comes around. Does that mean my boys will be putting darts into my jeans when I lose weight, so as not to waste the jeans. Oops.

If this photo was colored you would see the different shades of the hem. Talk about reduce reuse and recycle.

P.S. to this post, I am reminded by a nurse who works in a ward with dementia patience saying that you should not bring flowers, because often the patients will eat them. I suppose tossing them over the railing is a better alternative. There goes that saying "if you put all your troubles in a circle, you would gladly take back your own," not sure how accurate this is, but the general idea is the grass is not greener on your neighbors lawn.

Not the ruby slippers

Today as I was walking along, thinking, about my feet. You know you're getting old when you think about your feet. When you're young you think about shoes. Now I do still think alot about shoes. I never pass a shoe store without looking carefully and thoroughly at every shoe. Anyway, getting back to feet, they hurt. I can remember very clearly wearing shoes with heals like the one in my photo and higher, and with less shoe all day at work, even when I was very pregnant, and yes by ten in the evening, after an eight hour shift in the shoe department my feet were tired but I could not say they hurt like they do today. I still wear high heels, not everyday, and I think that's the problem. You know when you dress up you always feel better than when you're in your grubbies. Well I do anyway. I think that might be my answer, I need to get a job in the shoe department and buy more shoes and then my feet will get the message. Well maybe not. I've decided that the shoes make the gal. You could be wearing jeans and runners and set the tone, wear the same pair of jeans and nice shoes and see how that makes you feel. I think the most memorable shoes I own were platforms. I still took the bus in those days, and I walked to the bus stop most mornings. One morning Barb my sister and I were running (in my platforms) to the bus, down Red Hill Creek Hill. And I flew. I had bandages on both my knees for many many days. Thank goodness for midi dresses as they were then called. When we moved to Etobicoke I got a job at the Robert Simpson Company in the shoe dept. We all had great shoes in those days. I still have some basic shoes from back then. Why is it that I can't find a pair of shoes that are just right, I always seem to settle. I don't even do Pay Less, for me that is a waste of a shoe shopping adventure. It has to be leather uppers and preferably leather soles, although I'm o.k. with rubber for safety sake. NO NATURALIZERS, I'm appalled that my young nieces wear them. For me the perfect shoe is any Amalfi. I have never seen an Amalfi I didn't love. Now think about it. Think of famous shoes. Cinderella and the glass slipper, found her prince wearing them. Dorthy and the Ruby slippers, look where those shoes took her. My mothers $500 shoes come to mind. I can't really remember what I wore for my graduation, but I know I had knock out shoes. I'm going to do something about my sore feet, I just don't want to live without great shoes. So for the time being let's skip down the yellow brick road with Dorthy and those red shoes. And think of this, if a man asks you what a woman wants you must answer "Shoes, lot and lots of shoes". (remember this line, it'll be int he book)

HAPPY CANADA DAY

I don't have many childhood memories of Canada Day Celebrtions I don't think we ever bought fireworks and set them off around our neighborhood. I think I remember hearing them being set off at Battlefield Park, in Stoney Creek, but I'm sure we never attended. When we moved to Mississauga fireworks were set off here at City Hall. Daniel was a little more than a year old, my husband was working and the dog was terrified. So I sat in my basement, where the widows were smaller, and the sound muffled with the baby crying in my arms and the dog trembling between my legs. The following year, the dog had died, and the baby watched out the window at the display. For a number of years after that our neighbors would have a little party and invite us and we would all enjoy a little neighborhood display. At this point the city decided not to do the big display at the center, so we often had spectators at the gates watching us do it as well. We don't do that anymore, partly because the kids have all grown up and go to Ashbridges Bay or Wonderland . But my little baby, now 22, is an aspiring Piro Technician. He invites his own little clan to view his masterful display, and I suppose someone quite enjoyed it and took this great picture. (Obviously a well trained scrapper) He is seen here setting off Allen Gardens. He keeps quoting Apu "what better way to celebrate the birth of your country, than by blowing a little piece of it up." Happy Canada Day eh! do sing along.