Christmas In My Heart

Every Christmas is different from the last. Some are quiet and lean , some noisy and full. Last year was the one that will stand out in history at least in my history, as the one that will never be forgotten. To begin with our eldest daughter (the beautiful one) was coming home with her new man. His name is awesome. (inside joke) . This was cause for celebration enough. I had plenty of ideas for original gifts, I knitted everyone a handmade scarf. We had a little money saved up and I felt good about the spending. The recipes came easy. It was as if all the plans were blessed from the Heavenly's . The neighbors were friendly and kind. The snow had been falling and it covered the ground with a quaint Christmassy air.  The story gets better.. My 20 year old wanted a camcorder for Christmas. The one he wanted was pretty expensive. I knew that we didn't have the money for this but I also knew that I really wanted to get him one. All of my children are very special. Each one special in their own right. But this son is the one with the faith, he's the one who stands firm when others fail.  God loves each and every one of us, but he has his hands upon this one and He has great plans for him. Well, every day as I walked to my pond I would talk to the The Lord. I would ask him to bless my son with this CamCorder. Sometimes when I pray I just get this feeling that my prayer was answered. This was one of those times and I lived believing it. About this time the Christian Radio station had a contest. Send in a Christmas card and one would be randomly drawn on Christmas eve. First prize was a camcorder. We weren't certain what quality it was but I sent my card. The time came for the draw, up till now, my hubby had placed a gift of money under the tree all wrapped up. It was to go towards a camcorder in the new year when sales were on. Yet, deep inside my heart I knew that a miracle was about to take place. 3 oclock on the eve, clear as a bell our family name was announced. We had won.. Just like that.. I don't think I've ever yelled and cried and jumped so much in all my life. We scooted down to the station. I tried to convey to the folks working there the meaning of this gift and who my son was who was going to receive it. Maybe they understood a tiny bit. Not only that, but it was the exact one that son wanted. Christmas morning was a blast. We laughed at the Japanese flute, the lazer scissors, the lego (no one's a kid anymore) the coloring books, the funny hats and pez candy. Then Mike opened his gift. I cried , explaining it to him and how we came to be it's owner.  This gift was a miracle. It was given by the hands of God. Some say coincidence or ha perchance. Some say that the time of miracles and angels is over. I say that a loving God took delight in blessing a young fella and his mother. I stand in awe and marvel at his goodness. Whenever I've been tempted to be a gloomy gus this year the memory of that gift penetrates my heart and soul. Now, this Christmas is a little different. I feel it.. It's not as big or as white. It's keeping me humble. I am remembering the dear hand of my Heavenly Father whose gift of a camcorder was only a delightful sampling of His love and what He can bestow. After all He gave us the greatest gift that could ever be given, his son Jesus.. This Christmas believe for that miracle.  Hold on to that love that we so desperately need and desire. "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night" :)

Real Men Eat Moose

My hubby, God bless his tummy, has just consumed three moose steaks. They were marinated first, only because I can't stand the smell of moose cooking on the stove. It smells like a combination of swamp grass, leeches and rotting cow.. "Get the picture". Hubby on the other hand is drawn to it like a cat to catnip. He gets his moose from a co-worker. As a family we are amazing barters. Computer work for moose, sounds like a fair trade to me. How about jewelry for services rendered, or chocolate. That never happens. Let's take a minute and examine this wild animal. It resembles a deer on steroids. It has a rack of antlers that not unlike our Christmas Tree is adorned with hanging green lichen smeared with vermin and parasites of every kind. They live in swamps and are constantly using the forest as a scratching post. In Newfoundland they are having quite the problem with these guys. 145 thousand of them roam free and last year alone caused 869 accidents on the highway with some fatalities. So the government is giving away 33 thousand licenses to kill.  I realize that the moose is as part of our Canadian culture as say maple syrup or the Toronto Maple Leafs. Up in our neck of the woods plenty of hunters still exist. They prepare all year for "Hunting Season". Spending hundreds of dollars. Remember Elmer Fudd? Camps are booked, ATV's oiled and lubed..  I won't even mention the cases of beer and recreational beverages that go along with this journey. Dressed out in their best camo. they grab their rifles and pretend their soldiers stealth fully hunting down the enemy (whose not very bright by the way). When I was first married, as part of my initiation into the right of being married to a true northerner we went a hunting for partridge. It was a rainy day and cold but I was warm in my youth and innocence.. .. There they came, an entire partridge family.. Keith, Danny, Laurie, Chris and Tracy. In shock I ran after them.. "Save yourselves,, run run" I yelled. Hubby never took me out hunting with him ever again. Every year the city puts on a wild game smorgasbord. Skunk fritters, breaded ermine, deep fried weasel,(which tastes an awful lot like chicken by the way) and chocolate covered fox tales.. The door prize is usually a Davy Crocket coon hat, or a lucky rabbit's foot. It seems that being part of the 21'st century eludes us at times.. Perhaps it's just that gene recessed from centuries past. You know the one that's dressed in plaid. Perhaps at one time we were all hunter gatherers. That hunting instinct is still strong. It's changed format a little. My brothers all had guns and target practice was a favorite game. My sons on the other hand are into virtual killings.. Duck Hunt allowed them to use a real gun. Then paint ball with MARKERS.. "Whose kidding Who".  We were smart parents. We let them play there video games, but had them turn off the sound and the blood. Tonight I'm cooking hamburgers. They came from a hormone injected cow. The smell is much more pleasant and sanitary though. I suppose the moral of this story is you can take the woods out of your husband, but you can't take your husband out of the woods. Or you can't have your bullwinkle and eat him too. Adieu my friends until the next time. ♥

Forever Young

So, on Friday I gave my bro his yearly birthday call. I miss him (but that's another story).  My first mistake was asking him how old he was. You would think that I could remember this important piece of info considering he's one year younger than I. You see, when I turned 52 I stopped counting. At first it was kind of funny but then like every lie, over time you begin believing it. When I found out the truth I was in shock. It couldn't be. Where has the time gone?, One day I was "Little Suzy" and the next "Gramma Moses". I'm not complaining, I've earned these wrinkles. The One on the left side of my cheek is from all those years I was homeschooling . The one on the right from staying up all night with sick kids. I'm certain that the crows feet are from years of financial wows. Many years ago the elderly called Pneumonia "the old folk's friend". Back then if you were 70 you were considered over the hill. My mom is now 86 and my husband's dad just had a quadruple by pass. He is also in his 80's. Why, I saw a pic of Tina Louise the other day. Remember her of Gilligan's island fame, and she must be in her 80's. She looked terrific. Albeit she"s  had a zillion plastic surgery's. In my room in the privacy of my space I am learning how to  "Shuffle". I am wanting to volunteer at the home for the aged, to play the piano, to take singing lessons. Life for me has just begun. The thing is I am soooo grateful for each new day. Each morning when I wake up I say  "today,  I will make a difference". I will tell my family and friends how much I love them. I'll bake one more pie and one more meatloaf.  Age, my friend is only a number. It's a marvelous thing that I'm not good in Math. For now, I like the sound of 52. It also helps to have a daughter who listens to "Demi Lovato" and teaches you all the latest trends and styles. Or to have a son or two who keep you updated on the newest technology. One night I went to bed a little worried about the prospect of Alzheimer's. Good job that when I woke up I had forgotten all about it. :)  The good thing is that my hubby and I both have reached that age together. You know, that season when you've  forgotten why you've argued and who cares anyway. The time when coffee at Timmy's or at home is the biggest decision of the day. When you finish each other's sentences , not because your in sync but because you actually can't remember what you were saying. Now, you both have to wear glasses. So for some strange reason you look like your photographed through gauze and your hubby is the most handsomest man on this planet. You know the old saying that "Life is to short". I think life is just long enough. If we do the best and say the best and be the best we know how to be, then in the end life is just long enough.   Well, I'm off to dance and laugh and sing.. Adieu to you and may you too be Forever Young.

The Chicken or The Egg?

My story begins on the100 acre wood. It's not the one where Winny lived but the one where Whinny lived (but that's another story). My dad bless his heart dabbled in farming.  My mom planted and did up a lot of our fruits and vegetables. I have some fond memories. One of them is about the 100 fuzzy baby chicks that we would get faithfully every spring. They were a mass of peeping  wonderfulness. Dad, devised some sort of incubator where they would spend there days growing. I was in my glory. Each day I would get up and visit with my little brood. I gave them names and picked them up ever so gently, rubbing them on my face. I pretended to be their mamma. Then one day, they would be gone. I hated this time. They were old enough and strong enough to be banished to the barn. In time there names were forgotten and replaced with "Fried Chicken, Sunday Dinner, poached , scrambled and boiled." It reminded me of just how great of nurturers we women are. From baby dolls, to chicks then to our own little flock. Some of us took our role very seriously. WE worried about vitamin D intake and bowel movements. We recognized hungry faces or hurting ones. If someone were to ask us their sizes or weight , we were at the ready with an answer. I was reminded of the tragedy of the empty nest quite a few years ago. At this time my two eldest left for University. I cried for 2 weeks in my little rocking chair. But I learned to let go, slowly. I didn't forget their names , nor were they banished to the barn, but it was time to say goodbye. So this weekend my 20 year old, (whose been out on his own for 2 years now) was in crises. We told him that he could come back and live with us. This to him was more terrifying than the crises he was in. He would have to share a room and put up with a barking dog and noises never imagined. My little boy no longer needs me. I wonder sometimes if he even likes me. He's told me that I was eccentric, ecumenical, and did not dress nearly good enough at being a hippy and that's only recently. He's really a great guy, and very smart, but I'm no longer important in his life. Time has a way of healing. Oh sure, I'm hurt, but I'm also glad that I raised an independent son. I still have 2 more at home that I can coddle and make deserts for. I can see myself cutting up my husbands meat and fussing over him when all the children have left the nest. Once many years ago my youngest told me that she was to old for me to be brushing her hair. I crumbled. That's when I got Muffy. I now sing to her "How much is that doggy in the window" every morning. I give her a spoonful of olive oil before she goes to bed at night. I can brush her and carry her to the windows showing her the many sites that only doggies could love. Hopefully there's a divine law of reciprocation set in place. One day this old grey mare may need a little bit of caring for.  Well, I'm off to make myself a fried egg , all this talk of chickens has got me quite hungry.. Adieu , and have a great day..

You gotta have friends

It's official. I now have 111 friends. I believe that number has magical connotations. Can you imagine little shy me with that many people in my life. I was thinking that if I struck it rich , I would have a huge party and invite every single one of my facebook friends. Some of them would actually know each other. I wonder how much better that might be to be able to see their facial expressions and watch their body language. I think it's easier having a social network of friends. You can delete things that you should not say. You can correct spelling errors thus appearing more intelligent than you really are. You are free from any social faux pas. Like a runny nose or an unsightly blemish. If you don't like your profile pic you can keep taking one until you do. You can replace your pic with one of "Strawberry Shortcake" or "Yoda". Sometimes you can even Photoshop your pic erasing wrinkles and stuff. "Just saying". I could actually be 85 , you never know. I'm kinda worried about my facebook time. I could be addicted. Years down the road they may name a syndrome after me.  A few times I have been asked to go somewhere where I could connect with real people with skin. I've declined. It seemed a better idea at the time to put on my jammy pants and grab a bag of chips and a smoothy and scroll through my virtual list of friends and creep. Even if you don't know what creeping might be I'm certain that you've done it once or twice.. I love to look at people's pics. Sometimes I'll leave a comment , but otherwise I am in creeper heaven. It's like my dream of being invisible and opening peoples closets or drawers without them knowing. It's safe to say that the times they are changing.. It does my generation no good to hold on to the past. We need to embrace our modern technology. It may  soon be easier than embracing real people. Picture this , 4 family members out to dinner all with their own cell phones texting to other friends who are not at the same table. I'm not thoroughly dismayed, it may be the only time we all are in unison and have something in common. Then there are the perks. Like being able to connect with a niece in Australia or friend in Florida. Just to be able to ask them what the temp is over there or if they indeed have seasons. Regardless of how we acquire them I'm going to use James Taylor's words and say "You Gotta Have Friends". Well, I'll say adieu and  I'm off to Facebook..

Kicking It Old School

There was a season when 3 of my children were losing their teeth at the same time. I use to say (Insert Jewish accent here) "What , am I raising sharks or something!" Nowadays I have 2 sons who require help with Math. One at a University level, the other high school. To put in bluntly I suck at Math, so good old dad has been commandeered for this task.  Son #2 is being very pleasant and even though dad is near cerebral hemorrhage things are going well. On the other hand son #3 is not speaking to good old dad. It's the dynamics of things. Stubborn + Stubborn = Disaster.. (And I didn't think I knew Math? ) :) So right about now I hate Math. Well, at least I hate the strife that comes with Math.  Being the mediator puts me in this most difficult position. When does it end? Daughter #5 does not bring work home. This is such a blessing. Except that she is more a social butterfly than a book worm.. That's another story.  Maybe life is all  just a big school anyway with God as principal. Discreet Math and Algebra may just be catalysts in getting families together to try and iron out  little quirks and ineptitude's. I use to think that we were such a quirky bunch. I was right, but the only normal I know is a setting on the dryer. I'm having this huge revelation that I should embrace these hard times and look instead at the potential for growth. I look for that moment when son and father claim forgiveness and give up selfish wills. How like our great and wise Principal. He uses the trials of this life and turns them into something beautiful. If only we could be more forgiving and more loving. I have to say that I didn't know where this blog was going, but it really spoke to me today. I began with a rant and came away with understanding..  Adieu.. and farewell until we meet again...

Miracles

So sit right down and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a faithful ship that.... Sorry I was getting carried away. It would however be ok to grab a coffee or tea right about now because this blog may be a tad long. I'm going to tell you an amazing story that still leaves me in wide eyed wonder. Once upon a time oh about 10 years ago our eldest was visiting us from Ottawa. She was living there at the time and going to school. Now, in those days money was scarce on all sides, but we promised to drive her home on the Friday. On the Wednesday my hubby and I were beginning to get a little anxious. We were flat broke.. Before I continue lets ponder this catch phrase flat and broke. I'm not certain of it's origin but it reminds me of a deflated tire.. Yep that sounds just about right. Where was I? Oh back to being a little anxious. I'm glad to state that even back then I had this indomitable faith that things would work out fine. Thursday came and nearly went. I called Hubby at work and asked him how much money we would need for the trip. "At the bare minimum" he said "200$". So I went to my kitchen window and cried out to God. I remember pleading my case and telling him that we had a duty and made promises and all of it was good. I said that He was a God who always carried out his promises and that I trusted him . Just then, the phone rang.. It was my bro from down south. Years prior he had borrowed 200$ from us and he wanted to know my bank account # so he could pay us back. With tears of joy I tried to relate to him the significance of the timing and how good God was. I don't know if he understood. We had enough money for gas and food for the trip and even a little something to buy some staples for our daughter. In the meantime we had put our little cavalier up for sale (the cavalier is the name of a car not a child) just saying . We thought we could get the 200$ that way. A few days after we had come back I received a call from a young man. He said that he would trade a snow machine for our car. I told him that I didn't think so but I took his number and said I would ask hubby about it. No sooner had I gotten off the phone then this gut disturbing, mind blowing feeling came over me. We were to give this man our car and not only that but we were to tell him that God wanted him to have it. Am I losing some of you right about now,,, WAIT.. wait till I tell you how it ends. I waited till Mr D came home and very reluctantly shared with him this bit of info. A few questions about my mental state later he decides to trust me or rather trust God and see how it panned out. I took a deep breath and called the young fella. I told him that he was to have the car free of charge and then I spit out "Oh and by the way God told me to tell you that this was a gift from him" The man began to cry. He told me that he had prayed that very same thing. He had been on welfare with 2 little girls and a wife. The next week his wife called us up and told us that he had been very discouraged but this event turned his life around. Now, please try and remember that I'm only telling you this so that you might be encouraged and not because I live in some supernatural realm. I'm just as sane and normal as you are.. (tee hee)  Miracles are still happening we just need eyes to see and a heart to hear. When God does something he does it big. He's the master of greatness. So if your having doubts today, or you are needing a miracle of your own just take a moment and look up and ask.. God loves you so.. ♥ Happy trails until we meet again... 

Mrs Indiana Jones

My eldest "The Barbie Look alike" has been in a most fabulous relationship for nearly 2 years.. She tells me that life with the right guy can make everyday seem like a brand new adventure.. My 22 years  with the same man has been more like a sitcom than an adventure. Obviously we've stood the test and have raised up 5 wonderful children. We have this amazing working relationship. I manage the home , he works very hard at providing the funds necessary to run this joint.. Over the years tempers have mellowed and the things that were contentions are now things we laugh about.  Marriage is a lifetime commitment. It's like owning a dog.. You've got this little puppy who does his business all over clean floors and you suddenly realize that you may have made the wrong decision. It doesn't help when someone comes to the door and say's, "Oh we have a dog just like that, and she's 18 years old." The years go by and you find out just how faithful and loving your little pet is and you settle down to 18 years of walking and feeding and loving . Same as your spouse I suppose. The longer you live with it (I mean him or her) the more you care. You have memories, some good and some not so good but it's still this history that the both of you share. I tell our 17 year old over and over that the more people your "with" the less special the right one will be some day. To me the adventure is the seeking. The standing off from afar and watching and learning just who that special someone is.. Not jumping into a relationship too quickly. One needs to be patient and do great detective work.. Yes sir,, I certainly don't  live a life of a Mrs Indiana Jones. Trying to decide what to cook for supper may be my only big adventure.  But there's something to say for routine and stability. Growing old with the same fella,  regardless of the fact that he leaves his dirty clothes 2 feet from the hamper, or that he asks where everything is before he even looks. I had this insane thought the other day that if my husband were to leave me for another woman, I would have to sit her down and say "Now, he hates raisins and cherries but loves mustard on his sandwiches, and be sure that you have plenty of ice cream on hand". But instead I would like to tell my dear hubby "Please grow old along with me cause the best is yet to be".

Life's lessons

 .I have a friend who can come up with a life lesson simply from eating  a bowl of rice Krispies. I adore reading her blogs. She's a real writer, published and all. I'm a slip shod writer who tries to get by on a limited vocabulary and imagination. My life lessons were hard earned. I live with the many memories  of peculiar events. Over the years I've learned to somehow embrace my past. It's made me who I am today.  Oprah (remember her) often talks about her "Ah Ha moments. I was never an Oprah fan and we haven't had TV for 12 years so please don't judge me folks.. Anyway, the other day I had one of those moments. You know the kind where some snip-it of this life begins to make sense.. Like a puzzle.. I was remembering a part of my past that would best be left to rest. This was very difficult for me because I"m not the person that I use to be. I think I'm 365 degrees different in a positive way. I really care about others. I don't want to run to the hills anymore just because my hair is turning gray or the visa bill keeps getting higher. I feel that there's hope these days. God has shown me over the years that He is always faithful. Sure , faithful to some might mean a life without trials. Not for me, no siree bub.. but I have a real reassurance that I can breeze through this life even through the difficulties with The Lord at my side. I may live on "What A Jolly Street" but it took a life time to get here. A bowl of cereal may not have an impact on me. My life lessons come from the school of hard knocks.. I may have been knocked down but I am not defeated.. Gotta Go and do life.. Adieu...

The Bear Facts

So, it's a peachy keen kinda day here on "What a Jolly Street". Everyone is busy cooking up their Thanksgiving dinners. I made a pot of homemade beef soup and fried potatoes. That's because I was the smart mamma and did the whole shebang last weekend. I'm sooo glad I did this.. Now it's over, and done with. The left overs have been eaten and were back to being normal.. Well, as normal as we can be. Speaking of being eaten.. Let me introduce you to Mr Bear.. He lives behind or houses out by the pond. The pond is my sanctuary. I visit it once or twice a day with our little puppy nuggets "Muffy".. Depending on who you speak with a bear will either leave you alone by the blowing of a sharp whistle or from the  honking of a very loud horn. The other camp say's that each year thousands of poor folk are brutally mauled by these pesky black bears.. It really doesn't matter to me. I walk regardless. Sometimes I take along a little orange whistle.. "Right" that's really going to do the trick. Or sometimes I bring along the bear whisperer aka my hubby. The person who runs the fastest is the one who escapes the deed. I always put on my favorite blue running shoes and off we go.. It's a shame really. How can one slightly menacing animal control your life.?. Why is he even there? My daughter the animal activist say's that they have just as much right to be there as we do. WE live in Northern Ontario for crying out loud. We have dozens of excellent dwelling places for the likes of Mr Urseida. That's my complaint of the day and my very first post.. I have 2 friends who have the most excellent blogs in the whole wide Universe.. I'm going to leave you the links.. That is if I can master that technology.. Gotta go and do life.. Adieu...