Spring Resolution ...

It's time to get serious about my fitness level - never mind losing weight, that I've given up on - but I MUST get fitter!!  The end of our long cold winter always finds many of us in less than fine shape ... at least, MY shape is less than fine!

So, I've started daily early morning walking with 2 of my neighbours (and our dogs.)  No round of applause yet though, I've only been twice so far, yesterday and today, but I'm quite serious about keeping it up, and am making my resolution as public as possible to shame myself into not quitting.  My walking partners take this part of their day VERY seriously, and rain, sleet or snow they are out there - so they are great role-models.  

Today we walked 5 km ... and I am shattered.  But, chatting and walking is so much easier than walking alone, I hardly noticed how far we'd gone - until we had to walk all the way back! My leg muscles sure are chatting to me right now!

But, that just tells me how dreadfully out of shape I am ... onwards and upwards!!!

"Gorgeous Grannies" are in business!

If anyone remembers me musing on this blog a number of weeks ago about whether to jump into the Stephen Lewis 'Grandmothers to Grandmothers' organization or not, you may be interested to know that I leapt!!!  As of last Friday, The Gorgeous Grannies & Friends of North Gower are in business!

So far we are a small group of five - but we are mighty.  Watching a 16 minute video of the hardships of the African Grandmothers who are raising their grandchildren after they have been orphaned by AIDS, really brought home some of the realities of the problems there.  It is the grandmothers of Africa who are the unsung heros of the AIDS epidemic there, and the G2G organization spends the money raised on projects at the grassroots level.  Projects that will directly help the elderly women who are struggling with their load.  In some countries 40-60% of children live in grandmother headed households.

The G2G organization began in Toronto just 4 years ago this month, as a result of the realization of the heavy load these women were struggling with.  Already there are over 240 granny groups right across Canada who are fundraising, advocating and raising awareness for their counterparts in sub-Saharan Africa.  I think that is pretty cool.

I'm so proud to be part of them ... and I'm so very proud of Sara, Penny, Lynne and Donna for standing beside me!

For more information: http://www.grandmotherscampaign.org/campaign.html

Drink up that wine!

Don't you just love all the studies that come flying at you almost daily?

If you took any of them seriously you'd be changing your diet, sleep habits, even marital status every five minutes!  Eat your broccoli, eat low-carb, eat low fat, no butter, no margarine, eat chocolate (but only a little - as if!!) take naps to increase your memory, don't take naps if you want a good night's sleep, married people live longer, single women live longer ... and so it all goes on.

The latests, in case you missed it, is:

     " ... alcohol intake tends to induce increased energy expenditure beyond energy contents of the consumed alcohol in women."  (Archives of Internal Medicine)

Hmmm, drinking wine causes women to lose weight - now, there's a winner!

Apparently, over 19,200 US women, aged 39 and over who had normal body weight, were asked to list their drinking habits and weight gain for an average of 13 years.  Apparently they all gained weight (surprise!) but those who abstained from alcoholic drinks gained the most.  They found that the amount of weight gained decreased as alcoholic consumption went up.

As an avid lover of wine, over 39, and overweight I wonder about this study.  I've also read that red wine can lower your risk of heart disease, whilst other studies say it may increase the risk for various cancers ... wow, now I am confused!!

However, (as much as I'd love to believe this one) did these researchers not take into consideration the fact that most women fudge the truth when it comes to their age, their weight, and their alcohol consumption - everything this study is based on!

I say, don't worry, just drink up and be happy!

Cheers!

Today's News:
"Muslims slaughtering Christians,
Christians slaughtering Muslims"

What's new?
When will the blood-shed stop?

"In Nigeria 500 people murdered "
because they live in a Christian village

Where is the sense?

In January the same
happened in a nearby Muslim village

Has the world gone mad?

Don't they all pray to the same God?

     How do extremely sensitive people keep themselves safe from the "slings and arrows" of the rest of the world?  When put into an unusually stressful situation they are often coached to use imagery to help them cope; to close their eyes and imagine a shield around them.  A clear shield which will allow their positive energy to flow out, but block any negative energy from entering.

     This morning I read that the inspirational skater, Joannie Rochette, was able to earn a bronze Olympic medal only days after suddenly losing her mother by mentally encasing herself into a block of ice.

      "It was as though I was trapped in a big block of ice, that's how I was able to confront the situation.  When I went on the ice, it's as though nothing could penetrate me."

     My bet is the team psychologist had a lot to do with this powerful imagery Joannie was able to use to protect herself.  Good for her for not caving in under her overwhelming loss, but instead arming herself with all that modern science has learned of the brain (thus far ... ) and pushing ahead with her dream.

     However, her mother's love definitely played a role ...

     "A great part of my mother's life was dedicated to me, and I will miss everything that she has done for me.  This medal belongs to both  of us."

     What a class act.

What kind of superior mind control does it take to skate a 4 minute programme at the Olympics and only make a few minor errors - when your 55 year old mother has just suddenly died from a heart attack????

I'm a healthy sceptic when it comes to judging many of these athletes from around the world (are they really amateurs?? drug-free?? etc. etc.) and all the money that is poured into 17 days of hoop-la could be used to wipe out AIDS from Africa!!

BUT, I stayed up until 11:30pm last night to watch Joannie Rochette show us that we can take control of our minds.  We can put aside the most horrendous event and focus on the task at hand.  Her mother had been in Vancouver to watch her skate, and skate she did.

As one who has wrestled all my life to manage my thoughts and emotions ... I'm in awe.

Eye of my Heart

Long ago, in my past life, I taught primary age children, and one of my favourite days of the year was 'Grandparents Day'.  It wasn't a school-wide thing, just something I enjoyed doing with my own class, and the children thoroughly enjoyed having their Granny, or Grandpa, or Nonna in to see what we do all day.(They were allowed to bring a grandparent-for-the-day if theirs lived too far away, so everyone always had a 'special some-one' there just for them.)

I wasn't a grandparent myself then, and for me the best part of the day was watching the total unabashed love gushing from the eyes of each grandparent as they avidly watched their special little person.  These kids could do NOTHING wrong in the grandparents eyes!  Maybe this seems rather naive of me, and it probably is, but I was amazed by the consistency of this over-the-top affection each of them showed.  They wore their crooked pipe cleaner corsages with pride, declared the burnt cookies "Delicious", and patiently listened to the children's hesitant new reading skills, and enthusiastically sang songs.

I couldn't help but contrast this with special days when the parents were invited in for the day.  They generally spent more time watching me than the children.  Anxious parents wondering if I was favouring one child over another, was I strict enough, did I laugh enough, did I know what I was doing, etc. etc. etc.

Now that I am a grandparent, of course the whole thing makes sense.  (I probably could have figured it all out then if I had taken the time ... but life was crazily busy in those days!)  Which brings me to a book I've just finished called "Eye of my Heart", in which '27 writers reveal the hidden pleasures and perils of being a grandmother'.  I borrowed this book from the library as I thought it might be more of the sentimental cliche stuff often written about grand parenting, and didn't want to waste my money on it.  But it isn't at all!  The stories are brutally honest, and startlingly realistic ... they give the 'real experience' of being a grandparent.  They are tales that are heartbreaking, hilarious, touching and transformative.

A common theme is how very difficult it is to love someone - your grandchild - so much, and yet have so little control over how much you see that person, or what their life is like.  One clash with 'the parents' and the child is banished from your life.  Or, 'the parents' move to another town, city, country or continent and your ties to your grandchild dwindle to phone calls, skype calls and yearly visits.  Two stories were particularly heartbreaking, and obviously still raw enough that the writers used pseudonyms.  But, mostly they were about the sensitive line a grandmother has to walk between wanting to help and interfering ... and how so often thorny relationships with their adult children keep them from fully expressing this very particular form of middle-age ardour.

However, underneath all the granny experiences (and, it does seem to be just grannies who feel these things - grandpas appear not to notice!) is the undisputed love underlying all these other emotions.

As I have found in my own experience, when a new baby enters a family, everyone has to accommodate.  I have to remember that I am the grandmother not the mother.  I must hold my tongue when I don't agree with specific child-raising practices.  In return my son and daughter-in-law turn a blind eye when I feed the children an extra piece of cake, or allow them to watch an extra video, or teach them folk songs about drunken sailors!  It's hard work to make this new relationship mutually enjoyable ... but, it is oh so very much worth it!

As Mary Pipher says in the book:
" Being a nonna has given me joy and fresh eyes.  My grandchildren are my antidepressants.  When I am with them, I laugh and I look.  We inhabit moments together.  When we see a hummingbird or pick raspberries, I am as happy as they are.  Our mutual affection has taught me about pure and nearly perfect love."

Oh yes, all the work is so very much worth it!!!

We Are More ...

We Are More
by Shane Koyczan


"Define Canada
You might say the home of the Rocket
Or The Great One
Who inspired little No. 9s and little No. 99s
But we're more than just hockey and fishing lines
Off of the rocky coast of the Maritimes
And some say what defines us
Is something as simple as 'please' and 'thank you'
And as for 'you're welcome,' well, we say that, too
But we are more than genteel or civilized
We are an idea in the process of being realized
We are young, we are cultures strung together then woven into a tapestry
And the design is what makes us more than the sum totals of our history
We are an experiment going right for a change
With influences that range from A to Zed
And yes, we say 'Zed' instead of 'Zee'
We are the brightness of Chinatown and the laughter of Little Italy
We dream so big that there are those
Who would call our ambition an industry
Because we are vineyards of good year after good year
We reforest what we clear
Because we believe in generations beyond our own
Knowing now that so many of us
Have grown past what we used to be
We can stand here today
Filled with all the hope people have
When they say things like 'someday'
Because we are more
Than a laundry list of things to do and places to see
More than hills to ski
Or countryside ponds to skate
We are the abandoned hesitation of all those who can't wait
We are first-rate greasy spoon diners and healthy living cafes
A country that is all the ways you choose to live
A nation that can give you variety
Because we are choices
We are millions upon millions of voices
Shouting, keep exploring
We are more
We are the surprise the world has in store for you, it's true
Canada is the 'what' in 'what's new'
So don't let your luggage define your travels
Each life unravels differently
And experiences are what make up
The colours of our tapestry
We are the true North
Strong and free
And what's more
Is that we didn't just say it
We made it be"

The Brits: "Whiners of Olympic Proportions"???

     Those fleet-tongued men of Fleet Street are at it again ... grumbling, whining, complaining about the Canadian Olympics.  To be fair, these mammoth games have not gone smoothly.  But, if they had, well, it wouldn't have been Canadian, eh?  We cheer when someone tries their best but comes up wanting, we even like it that way - perfection is soooo boring!!!

     (Interesting to note that I'm using the word 'we' above, since as soon as I open my mouth someone generally asks me when I came to Canada.  My usual reply is: "Before you were born" - which is generally true since I left Britain in 1966.  Having lived in Canada for almost 44 years, I have steadily grown to adore my adoptive country as one who loves the middle relaxed way, who doesn't puff itself up, and who is modest to a fault.)

     So, when I read that the British press is slagging what hard working people have tried to do in Vancouver, I see RED!!!  How dare they???  Four days into a 17-day event they have written it off as "the worse Olympics ever"???

     (I should state here that I am not really a fan of Olympic games.  Like many others, I feel it has moved light years away from the original Olympic spirit, is ridiculously over-priced, and with all the drug infractions - who can take many of the athletes' accomplishments seriously?)

     Yet, with the rest of our country, I found myself glued to the TV last night to see if Patrick Chan could get a good clean skate in the men's figure skating short programme. (He didn't, but then, he is Canadian, and we know he tried his best - he's such a sweet guy.)

     I had a chuckle this morning reading in our local newspaper where one reporter scolded those Brits who would slag us in their national press. He wondered if their frustration at these Olympics was in part due to a recent study conducted by Utrecht University in Netherlands which found that 40% of British men suffer from a premature tendency which is medically defined as "an inability to last more than a minute in bed".

     (Ooops, now that was a cheap shot ... especially since I am married to a Brit!!)

Let the games begin ...

 So, Gretsky got to light the outside Olympic flame, but the Opening Ceremonies certainly had it's share of embarrassments!!  Right from the start when our Governor General - the Queen's representative in Canada - was led into the executive box and officially recognizing the crowd, there were empty seats all around her, people taking off coats and chatting behind her, and others still shuffling into their seats!  It looked disorganized and amateurish at best.  (Later we were told the empty seats belonged to the leaders of the First Nations - who were late - did someone forget to tell them what time to come???)

With the tragic death of the Georgian luge athlete earlier in the day fresh in everyone's minds the Ceremonies stumbled along ... and there certainly were stumbles!  But, I loved the opening of the snowboarder skiing down the gigantic snow-covered mountain and seemingly right into the Stadium through the Olympic rings - cool start.

Thank you, thank you K.D. Lang for that fantastic rendition of Leonard Cohen's  'Hallelujah'  it gave me goose bumps (but then, anything to do with Cohen does!!)


A reader's comment left on the cbc.ca website captured my feelings exactly ...

"Well ... what could have been more Canadian than that opening ceremony?

I found it understated and genuine, not garish and phony like Beijing. You had your athletes, of course, drunk politicians, overweight and washed up performers, gay fiddlers, people of all races and cultures, a lesbian in a man's suit singing Hallelujah, an opera singer with an almost unpronounceable name and, oh yeah, a fat guy telling what it means to be Canadian.

Only in this country would we be so content in our own identity as to experience technical difficulties during the lighting of the Olympic flame, laugh it off, fix it with duct tape and binder twine and carry on with a good chuckle.

These are the things that make Canadians unique in the world. We are who we are and we have nothing to prove to anyone. I could not be happier or prouder."

Hear, hear!!

Olympic Flame

Opening ceremony tomorrow evening for the Vancouver Olympics, and this non-sport lover will be watching.  No-one expects anything like the over-the-top, let's-impress-the-world extravaganza put on by China two years ago, but who will light the Olympic flame is a closely guarded secret.  Amusing to read in the newspaper this morning the famous Canadians who are suspected of being chosen.

My vote would go to my absolute favourite singer/poet and all-time charmer (not to mention devout Buddhist!) Leonard Cohen ... but I'm sure it won't be him.  Another name mentioned is actor Michael J. Fox who is bravely battling Parkinson disease, but not many people even know that he is Canadian.  The most amusing on the prospect list was Pamela Anderson!!!  Hmmm ...

My guess is that it will be Wayne Gretsky ... he's Canadian, an athlete, beloved hockey player and all-round decent person.  He'll be the popular choice - no doubt about it.

And, the winner is ....

There was a standing ovation for Ian Brown at the Charles Taylor Prize banquet last night.  I am so happy that his book "The Boy in the Moon: A Father's Search for his Disabled Son" (which I enjoyed so much and wrote about here on January 11th) won the coveted and highly prestigious Charles Taylor award for Literary Non-Fiction.

His book had very strong competition, since the other three finalist nominees were acclaimed biographies of popular political giants Pierre Trudeau and Rene Levesque, plus famed media baron William Randolph Hearst, and I feared they would dominate over the memoir of a humble father living with his severely disabled son.  But, they didn't, and that proves encouraging for our humanity!

The National Post reported:
"To explain why they chose his book The Boy in the Moon as this year’s grand prize winner, the jury lauded The Globe and Mail writer for his sensitive exploration of “a netherworld where medicine and morality meet” and for telling the story of his disabled son “with artless candour, quirky humour and unsparing detail.”

Exactly! 

Hurray for Ian Brown, and for parents everywhere trying to cope with a disabled child on the limited resources available from our government!

Is 60 old???

I saw in the paper on Saturday that Ringo Starr is almost 70.  (If you don't know who Ringo is, then I pity you ...)  The headline to the newspaper article was "Still Rockin' it at 69".  The author must have been some young upstart of 25 or so, because the implication was that Ringo maybe shouldn't still be "rockin' it".  He was never my favourite Beatle, but looking at his laughing picture next to the story, bearded, multiple ear-rings, close cropped hair, I thought he looked great!

The reporter quotes him as saying that he'll have less angst about turning 70 than he did about turning 40. 'Forty was: "Oh God, 40!"'

I can relate to that.  Turning 40 was the hardest milestone for me too.  The rest were easy.  Last year I turned 60, and to celebrate I stopped colouring my hair, and now proudly sport a silver/grey mop of it.  (My husband has been grey for years and no-one asks him if he's going to colour his hair.)  Looking in the mirror these days I sometimes wonder where on earth those  sixty years went, but I don't dwell on it - what's the point?  Like Ringo, I laugh and get on with enjoying each day.

This is definitely the very BEST time, and I totally agree with the wonderful writer Ann Morrow Lindburgh ...

"At our age we can get rid of a lot of superficials.  Vanity for one thing ... We can relax in whatever is becoming and comfortable.  We don't have to be 'house-proud' and struggle over possessions ... Many of our duties to family, to town or country, have dropped.  We are freer now to do what we want.  We can choose our pleasures, without guilt, be ourselves without pretence ... "

No wonder the Red Hat Society ladies have so much fun - bring on the red hats and purple boas!

WARNING

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens . . .

                                                                          - Jenny Joseph

Bye until next time!

Grandmothers To Grandmothers

Have you heard about the Canadian campaign to help the thousands of grandmothers in Africa who are raising their grandchildren after their own children have died of AIDS?  I've read about it a number of times over the years, but it came to my attention again the other day and I checked to see if there is a group in my area.  There isn't.  So, I'm thinking of starting one.

"Toward the end of 2005, Stephen Lewis and his daughter Ilana Landsberg-Lewis (Executive Director of the Stephen Lewis Foundation) began discussions about how to support grandmothers in Africa. During his travels in Africa, Stephen heard first-hand from grandmothers about the challenges they face in raising their orphaned grandchildren.

At the same time, Ilana was reading countless proposals and recognized that grandmothers were increasingly fundamental to programmes working on AIDS at the grassroots. While SLF was already supporting women, orphans and people living with HIV and AIDS, it became clear that a fourth area had to be added to the mandate: support for grandmothers."

From the campaign website:
 www.grandmotherscampaign.org

Thus, the Grannie movement started in 2006, and already there are over 220 Grannie groups across Canada raising money for their counter-parts in Africa, and advocating for them. 

The concept appeals enormously to me.  I suppose because I'm a Grannie myself, and it has obviously spoken to hundreds of other Grannies across Canada, as they are an extremely active bunch of women!  Not only Grannies - many groups also include members who are friends, children or spouses of Grannies.

But, I'm reluctant to commit, something is holding me back.

I'm struggling with the question of whether I'm up to/want the challenge of starting such a group.  Do I want to jump head-first into this? (It's the only way I do things!)  My recent activities have become much more me-focused, which is what I needed, and I have been very careful not to get as heavily involved in community projects here as I was at our last home ... and I'm finding that I like it like that.  It works.

And yet ...

I look at my strengths:  I have been told I have excellent organizational skills (you don't survive a class full of 6 year olds for long if you haven't!! ;-). I'm told my enthusiasm is contagious and it draws people to me;  I have been quite successful at fund raising in the past; I enjoy a challenge; plus, I have a strong desire to help this cause.

On the negative side is the fact that I don't know many people here yet - I am untested and unknown in this area, and it would take an enormous amount of effort to build necessary contacts etc. (However, I do have two or three excellent neighbour friends who may help me.) And, there's this 'thing' pulling  me back ...

What to do??? 

During my first burst of enthusiasm I contacted the SLF organization and they are sending me material to help set up a group (they are VERY well-organized, which impresses me), I've spoken to the leader of one of the many groups in Ottawa and was given lots of tips and information, and I've been in email contact with other 'high-rollers' in the organization who will help me get started.

Have I made my decision?  Am I simply scared of jumping into it?  Am I thinking too much about it?


Possibly ...
 

I think I'll be a vet when I grow up ...

My dog has to go to the vet tomorrow to have a tooth pulled.  Now, I love my dog, and I sometimes wonder if vets don't play on that love.  'Darcy' has an abscess on a tooth, (apparently) and the swelling on her face was what prompted the vet's visit today.  She didn't seem to be in any pain, and I'm ashamed to admit that the lump has been there for some time, but even though family funds are short right now, my husband felt she ought to be seen. (Note I'm blaming my husband for this one.)

The vet examined her teeth (as much as Darcy would let him), felt around the lump and pronounced that it was "probably an abscess caused by a broken tooth. That will be $96 please." (Well, he didn't actually say the last bit, but his receptionist was quick to add it.)  I think the few generic anti-biotic tablets he gave us for her were included in that price.  $96 for a ten minute visit.  Why, that's $576 an hour - I doubt if my own family doctor makes anything close to that much!

Tomorrow she'll have the tooth pulled at a cost of over $700.

Friends of ours have a 14 year old dog who pulled a tendon in his leg before Christmas.  The dog is recovering fairly well, but has a limp and can't walk as far as he used to - well, he is 98 in people years after all, I don't suppose many 98 year olds can walk too far.  However, this couple is paying over $4,000 for an operation on the dog's leg to help him walk better - and there's no guarantees!

Has the world gone mad?  Have I gone mad?

Would people in Haiti think us mad?

Maybe I'm just thick ...

Just returned from my weekly yoga class, and my whole body, from the tip of my  head to my toes is whispering thank you, thank you!

Why is it we often don't know what we are missing until we find it again?

I haven't been to yoga since before Ray's operation, almost 2 months.  Driving him around and with Christmas stuff to do I didn't put out enough effort to get to class.  But, as soon as we started into the stretches this morning my body sighed with recognition and joy and I realized then that this was what it had been needing.

Maybe I'm just thick, but it's the same with getting outside for a lovely long walk.  I look out the window and think "Nope, way too cold, takes too much effort", but if I shut my mind off, and force myself, it feels great to be striding out through the countryside breathing the crisp, cold air.

I don't think my brain is my best friend ...

Bye for now!

Season's tickets?

Now that we live in Canada's capital, and feeling very grateful for having all this culture on our doorstep, I purchased theatre season's tickets last fall for Ray and I to see 5 plays at the National Arts Centre.  (Ottawa has as many theatres as some cities have pubs and there are lots of choices, but we thought we'd start at the top and work our way down.)

Are season's tickets ever a good buy????

I'm struggling with that.  The pros are obvious.  Buy the tickets, save money (usually getting 5 plays, or more, for the price of 4), often get priority seats, you write the dates on the calendar, put the tickets in a safe place, and there you have it - a season of entertainment and you can then forget all about it until your designated theatre night.

However, the cons are beginning to surface for us.  First, you only save money if you actually attend all plays, and although most theatres allow you to swap nights, it often involves driving downtown to the box office and physically switching tickets for another date.  Sometimes you have a choice of plays, but in our case at the NAC it came as a package of 5, and you must be open-minded and take your chances that it will be something you will enjoy (or, as in some cases, at least understand!)

Which brings me to last night.

Ray and I attended out 3rd play of the season, it was called "Mother Courage and her Children".  It featured a woman during the 17th century pulling her cart and three grown children around Europe following the waring armies (either side, she wasn't fussy) selling everyday items and alcohol to the soldiers.  A tinker of sorts, but always profiting from the war.  Whilst set in the Thirty Years War, it is the story of war everywhere and at all times. It was stark, raw and bleak.  It was also very long!  The director used a modern stage setting consisting of six pianos which were occasionally played, but generally turned around and their backs provided stage divisions.  I spent a good part of the first half wondering about the piano's significance. (Why choose pianos?  Is it as a contrast to the harshness of war, since pianos often bring joy?)  I had to agree with one comment I overheard as we filed out for a much needed break during Intermission, "This is arduous!"  Indeed it was.  Many must have thought so, as the theatre (only half full to begin with) had an even smaller audience after Intermission.  We drove home after the play in a rather dour mood, trying to make sense of all the plays' symbols and wondering if we are stupid, or was the play just too obscure.  Whatever, it definitely was NOT one we'd freely pick.

Returning to the topic of season's tickets - we were not able to attend the 2nd play of the season because my husband had just had surgery, so gave the tickets to family members.  That leaves us with two plays left, (I have to admit that the first of the season was fabulous!!) 

Hmmm, are season's tickets ever worth it???

Bye for now ...

I've just been looking at some of the horrific photographs coming out of Haiti these days after the 7.0 earthquake stuck their poor already ravaged country.  So, I was feeling rather sober and not a little down, when I suddenly spied a headline which instantly lightened my mood - in fact it made me laugh my head off!!!

"PARENTHOOD LOWERS BLOOD PRESSURE: STUDY"

Now, I love the 3 children I gave life to as much as the next person does theirs ... but, did they lower my blood pressure??  What??  Is this a joke????  It HAD to be written by a man ...

So, wiping my eyes, I read on ...

"It is thought the fulfilment of children giving life meaning makes parents more content which has an effect on blood pressure, researchers from Brigham Young University in Utah said."

I kid you not, this is apparently a true study, printed in today's UK 'Telegraph'.  Now, don't misunderstand me, I wouldn't trade the experience of being a mother for anything, but, as someone once said: "Motherhood is not for Wimps!" (I think I still have some notelets somewhere from my 'young mum' days which showed a woman in boxing gear, complete with boxing gloves, standing in her toy/food/clothes strewn kitchen ... I used them for encouragement notes to my other 'stay-at-home-mum' friends)

Actually, I have been conducting my own unofficial study for many years now.  Basically, it involves reading the obituaries (isn't it funny how once your age starts getting 'up there' that page takes on more meaning?)  I note people are adding photographs more often these days, and that really helps with my study, because I search out the ones of elderly women, particularly those who still look good for their age.  Invariably I find a photograph of an aged, well-lined face but with a serene, confident (dare I say, smug??) smile, and upon checking I note the woman's age as being way up in the 90's, with NO mention of children!  But, instead, a long list of accomplishments and accolades collected throughout a long and very active life. So, my conclusions are that childless/husband-less women: a) live longer, b) keep their looks, and c) die with a smug ("I know something you don't know") smile on their face.

I accept that this is a totally unscientific study, and the Telegraph would never publish it ... but next time you read the paper, look in the Obituaries, and checkout the smug looking women who died in their 90's. I bet they were childless!

Now, if the headline had said:

"GRAND PARENTHOOD LOWERS BLOOD PRESSURE"

well, then I could totally understand it - because everyone knows that!  (They are our reward for having children! ;-)

Bye for now ...

I've just finished reading "The Boy in the Moon" ... wow, Ian Brown really writes a mean sentence!  I watch him on T.V.O. introducing The Human Edge and The View from Here and have always admired his brutal honesty and no-nonsense talk.  That's exactly how he writes about his profoundly disabled son, Walker, in this book.  From the first 10 pages in which Brown describes the incredibly complex and frustrating steps he must go through to get his boy a drink of warm milk and change his diaper during the night, he has you hooked.  You are with him ... you feel his frustrations, his worries, his joys, his fatigue, and also his incredible love for this child.

But, this is not simply a father/son love story.  The sub-title is "A Father's Search for his Disabled Son", and that is the real theme of the book.  Brown's search for the person inside, the boy behind the crying, the hitting, the feeding tube and the diapers that is his son. He asks, "Are you there Walker?  Do you know me? What is going on in your mind?"   And, we anguish with him as he watches constantly for signs beyond the simple clicks that father and son have developed as a type of communication.  Ian Brown allows us into his own mind, into his thoughts, feelings and fears ... his honesty is at times disarming, but I found I could not stop reading, even through my tears.

An extraordinary book, it opens a small window into daily living with a profoundly disabled child, and I guarantee it will make you reflect, weep, engage ... and, yes, even cheer.

Paula Todd  wrote an excellent review of this book in the 'Globe and Mail' and summed it up perfectly.  http://www.theglobeandmail.com/books/review-the-boy-in-the-moon-by-ian-brown/article1301478/

I'm back!

Hello again, it's been a while since I posted anything here. But, now that the winter winds are blowing outside, and the snow is piling up at the door (along with the rest of the world's doors, it seems) I have lots of extra time on my hands ... and there is nothing I like better than writing (after reading and gardening!)

Does anyone else have a problem remembering all the different security codes we need to use these days??? I'm extremely bad and do what I've been told I'm NOT to do, and use the same series of numbers and letters for just about everything (hackers/forgers etc. forget it, I have no money, so move onto someone else!) Anyway, we recently received a new credit card which has one of those ultra, super-duper security chips in it, so instead of just swiping I must now punch in yet another series of numbers to use it. My husband set it up, and for the life of me I cannot remember the numbers he chose! Apparently, writing them down and hiding them in my purse is a complete no-no, so, he gave me a verbal clue to remember them.

An hour ago I was out buying a rather delicious bottle of wine (my favourite kind of errand.) At the check-out I tentatively put my charge card in the machine, thought of the verbal clue hubby had provided me, and confidently punched in the required numbers. It told me I had made a mistake. So, I took my time and did it again, slowly - again I was reprimanded by the machine - wrong security code. It told me I had one last chance to get it right - seriously, the tiny machine actually chastised me!! (Luckily, the sales clerk was a lady of advanced years and unlimited patience, and had probably seen this many times, she smiled sympathetically at me.) The 3rd try was also rejected. Now, this was getting very embarrassing as I had no cash to pay for the wine. So, I reluctantly removed my card from the feisty little machine and replaced it with my debit card. As soon as I saw my debit card I realized what I had done - yup, I had punched in my debit card code for the charge card code. The sales clerk was as happy as I was when it was accepted and I high-tailed it out of there asap!!

Did I ever tell you how much I hate numbers??? I loath them, they make my head go dizzy, I can't remember them, they confuse me ... I even had to take my math GCE exam twice!!! (Thank heavens I'm married to an engineer!!)



Until next time, bye for now.

A Real-Life Thriller ...

Went to a wonderfully old cinema this evening to watch the documentary film "Burma VJ" about the Burmese uprising in Sept. 2007 - wow, really powerful stuff! This doc. won best editing award at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival, which it totally deserved. The film grabs you from almost the first few frames and it doesn't put you down until 85 minutes later when the credits roll. Even though we've seen the story on the news two years ago (and know how it sadly ends) experiencing it as it happens, through the voices and cameras of the video reporters actually in the midst is totally riveting.

I think this reviewer summed it up best:

"Armed with pocket-sized video cameras, a tenacious band of Burmese reporters face down death to expose the repressive regime controlling their country. In 2007, after decades of self-imposed silence, Burma became headline news across the globe when peaceful Buddhist monks led a massive rebellion. More than 100,000 people took to the streets protesting a cruel dictatorship that has held the country hostage for more than 40 years. Foreign news crews were banned, the Internet was shut down, and Burma was closed to the outside world. So how did we witness these events? Enter the Democratic Voice of Burma (DVB), aka the Burma VJs. Compiled from the shaky handheld footage of the DVB, acclaimed filmmaker Anders Ostergaard’s Burma VJ pulls us into the heat of the moment as the VJs themselves become the target of the Burmese government. Their tactical leader, code-named Joshua, oversees operations from a safe hiding place in Thailand. Via clandestine phone calls, Joshua dispenses his posse of video warriors, who covertly film the abuses in their country, then smuggle their footage across the border into Thailand. Joshua ships the footage to Norway, where it is broadcast back to Burma and the world via satellite. Burma VJ plays like a thriller, all the more scary because it is true."

If you get the chance - run, don't walk, to view it!!

Home Sweet Home

It's hard to believe that just two weeks ago we were still boxing up the last remaining belongings and hoping for a good move the next day. Hmmmm, I suppose there have been worse moving stories - indeed, our move 8 years ago to Old Man's Lake was horrendous - but this time the unthinkable happened and we had too much 'stuff' for the moving truck. Those who have read my previous blogs know how we struggled to cut our belongings down, giving a lot away, donating stuff to Salvation Army thrift stores, and throwing away the rest! Well, it was obviously not enough. I won't bore you with the details ... we're safely here now ... and so many times a day I get a jolt of joy with the pure pleasure our new life is giving me.

It's wonderful!! How can I explain it? Life seems simpler and easier in this smaller home. The area is quiet, the scene serene, our main living area became orderly very quickly, and we try not to think about the mountain of unopened boxes waiting for our attention in the basement (we'll get to them - eventually!) We have acres of grass to cut, and it was getting very long, so a brand new lawn tractor has joined Ray's 'man-toys'. He's thrilled with it, and cutting the grass has become great fun (Well, it's a novelty right now!) Even Darcy seems very happy here. We thought she would miss the lake and being able to go for a swim whenever she wanted to, but after a week of nervously staying within two inches of me, she has settled down well and seems quite relaxed.

Last night we had our first taste of the Ottawa "cultural" scene, and we drove the 35 mins. to downtown and attended one of the performances being staged at various venues throughout the city as part of the 'Magnetic North Theatre Festival'. Now, you have to know that Ottawa has festivals as frequently as other cities have bumps in the road - there's the tulip festival, dragon boat race festival, choir festival, dance festival, busker festival, Turkish festival, Ottawa bluefest, folk festival and so on. And that's just the summer! (The winter festival in February has enormous ice sculptures.) It's one of the reasons we moved here. Anyway, we had no idea what the Magnetic North Theatre Festival was all about, but it was live theatre, and we knew we loved that! (Actually, we found out that it is a venue for new contemporary theatre written by young Canadians.) We saw "The Erotic Anguish of Don Juan" - now, who can resist something with a title like that? It was an adult puppet show, and I have always been a huge fan of puppetry, and think it is a fantastic art form when it is in the hands of talented artists, and the Old Trout Puppet Workshop company from Calgary were just that. This production was fantastic. It demonstrated just what puppetry can be - imaginative, hugely creative, witty, and very inventive. We wondered how the group would show Don Juan's romantic antics using puppets, and they handled it with humour and finesse - hugely funny and entertaining!

So, feeling in a wonderfully adventurous mood after the performance, we stopped in at the local pub and restaurant in our nearby village for a night cap. It looked a bit seedy from the outside, so we weren't sure what to expect, but were pleasantly surprised, and have put it on our list of 'must do again'.

I have a very old 'Home Sweet Home' cross stitch sampler which I stitched almost 30 years ago, it has certainly seen better days and is getting a bit faded, but irregardless has been hung in each house we've lived in. Last week when my daughter was helping me select pictures and paintings to decorate our new walls, she pulled a face when I picked it out of it's box. "You're not putting THAT up, are you?" I certainly was!! This place really is a home sweet home!

Bye for now ...

Last Blog Entry from Old Man's Lake!

We leave for our new home in rural Ottawa in 3 more days ... and at times I thought this day would never arrive!!

What a journey this whole thing has been. From deciding to move in January, to finding (and buying!) our lovely new bungalow in February, to totally de-cluttering our cluttered home and finishing/painting all the bits still left to do throughout March, to listing it in April and actually selling it in one week!! Now comes May, and we've been boxing up our belongings over the last few weeks ... saying goodbye to the wonderful friends we've made here, and trying to come to terms with the whirlwind 5 months we've just lived through!

Yes, there have been moments when we've looked at each other and asked "Are we doing the right thing?" Especially when the snow finally all thawed in April and my multitude of daffodils started to bloom. But, they have now been followed by the 'dreaded biting blackflies' which swarm around you, crawl in your ears and down your shirt, and are not repelled by anything you put on your skin! They are now joined by buzzing mosquitoes ... yes, we are REALLY ready to move!

I am SO excited to begin all the new experiences awaiting us in our new home, and I will try to write here about them, and my reactions to living closer to the capital city of Canada ... so, check back often!

Earlier this week our 6 year old granddaughter phoned and when I answered I heard this plaintive little voice ask, "How many more sleeps until you move closer to us Gran?"

Oh yes, I am really looking forward to it all!!!

Crazy Days and Potato Peel Pie

Hi friends ... it's been almost three weeks since I last blogged, and re-reading what I wrote reminded me what a pensive mood I was in that day. Well, no time for such frivolity these days!!! We've been transforming our cozy, cluttered home into a masterful show-piece (I think!) What did people do before rental mini-storage units??? Ours has been a saviour, and we've been wearing out the road between us and it with car load after car load of boxes, chairs etc. Just "stuff" I can't part with, and extra furniture removed to make our place look "light and airy" (as the magazines say.)

Meanwhile Ray has been working like a mad-man finishing the house! We have a lovely large balcony which leads from our bedroom which I made into my library - two floor-to-ceiling walls of books. I splurged on a lovely leather recliner chair for that area and a super reading lamp, and I can't tell you the joy and peace I receive curled up in my comfy chair, high above the living area, surrounded by my books. Books have that affect on me, they calm me, but they also give me a thrill inside as I contemplate all the hidden delights they contain (many people think I'm nuts!!)

Well, it would have given me much more joy and peace if the area had been finished! It seems Ray ran out of steam a few years ago when he got to that area (books aren't a priority with him) so the area still had the basic drywall, and plywood floor. But, he's been hard at work there, and now it looks gorgeous!! So, once this place is listed for sale (next Friday) I'm going to spend as many hours as I can up there enjoying it before we move and leave it for someone else to enjoy :-(

As crazy as it has all been I have still found time to discover an amazing new book.

It has the most wonderful name "The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" - now, who could resist delving into a book with a name like that??? Not me. It has quickly become one of my favourites, and at first I didn't think it would. It is written as a series of letters between the Guernsey group and a writer in London, and it is through the letters that the story unravels. It is not a writing technique that I am usually fond of, as I find I often forget who is who and have to keep flipping back to find out. BUT, the author, Mary Ann Shaffer, has done such an amazing job of character development that you instantly conjure up a visual of each new character as she brings them in and they stay in your mind as a fully fleshed-out person. Fabulous job.

I didn't know much about Guernsey before this book - except that it is one of the Channel islands belonging to Britain but situated close to France. I certainly did not know that it was invaded by Germany during WWII, and that the Germans stayed there thinking it would make an ideal stepping stone to invading Britain. The story is set in 1946, and memories of the recent occupation (which lasted until the war ended) were very fresh and raw. The Guernsey characters in the story are so wonderful and often so wacky, they make me want to meet them!

Anyway, I thoroughly recommend the book ... and it seems I'm not alone because on the book's website there is a section to which readers can write their own letters, and it is full of people gushing like I have. This was Mary Ann Shaffer's first novel, and sadly she died last February before it was published. She had always wanted to write a book, and as her health failed she asked her niece, Annie Barrows (a children's author) to help her finish it.

This book has taken me away from the tiresome jobs I've had to do in the house these past weeks ... and I've got another very promising one sitting on my bedside table waiting for me, it's called "The Cellist of Sarajevo" ... oh, I can't wait to get my teeth into it!

Bye for now.

I've just returned from a lovely late afternoon walk with my dog. The sun is still shining, snow is turning wet and mushy, and everywhere you hear the tell tale drip, drip, drip of the coming spring. I'm feeling extremely nostalgic for this place, and I haven't even left yet.

How can I leave this gorgeous piece of heaven? Was it my destiny to find this special corner of the world only to turn my back on it again?

The waiting is very difficult. Those of us who have emigrated to this country and who have the majority of their family living overseas know the heartbreak of saying goodbye at the airport after the enjoyment of one of their too rare visits. The rush to get to the airport, get checked in, get rid of all the luggage is followed by an almost unbearable awkwardness. They have to go through the gates where you cannot follow. Goodbyes have to be said, tears have to flow, hugs which must last until you next meet will be given ... and everyone wants this moment to end, but no-one wants to say good-bye because in the back of your mind is the always present question, "Will we see each other again?" ... so, you all wait, standing around, making small talk because you've said all there is to say. Until finally, with unspoken relief, someone glances at the clock and says they really must be going.

It feels like this now. I feel like I'm waiting to say goodbye to this amazing place ... awkwardly filling the days and weeks until we can leave ... dreading the time when we will leave, but wishing it would come soon to end the agony.

And outside my window the winter continues to drip, drip away ... and the birds are practising their spring mating songs ... and I wait to say goodbye.

To keep or not to keep ... that is the question!

I used to know women who thoroughly cleaned out all their drawers and cupboards regularly every spring. Honest! Do people still do that, spring clean, I mean, do they go through everything every spring and throw old stuff away?

When I was a young mum at home looking after my three little children, my next door neighbour had an amazing cleaning routine. (She didn't attest to my 'routine' of clean thoroughly only when you're having visitors, and in between, if things get really bad - leave and take the kids to the park - come back only when it's dark and you can't see the dust!) No, my neighbour cleaned different parts of her home every day - living room on Monday, kitchen and floors on Tuesday etc. and she stuck to it religiously!! She was amazing, I thought she was the best housewife ever, and I envied her with every ounce of my being!! Company could call on her any day or time of the week, her house was spotless and she even had frozen meals (cooked on Fridays) in her freezer to feed surprise guests - even dessert!!!

I tried, I really did. I wrote out my own cleaning schedule, posted it boldly on my fridge, and started to follow it. But, after a couple of days, it might be a sunny day and the children were restless so I'd skip the windows that day and head outside with them instead! Or, a friend would phone to invite me over for coffee, and off I'd go again. Sure, I could have said "No, I have to change the bed linen today," ... as my organized neighbour often did when I invited her over ... but, I guess I just didn't have her willpower.

Anyway, that is a very long round-about way for me to say that I am at present spring cleaning my drawers and cupboards - no applause please - and that over the years my cleaning mentality has unfortunately never changed. We have just 6 weeks to get this place extra spic and span, clutter-free, and ready for showing prospective buyers. Buyers who will have no reluctance at opening drawers or cupboards! So, I am sorting through 8 years of 'stuff'... stuff that I've either hidden in closets to make the place look tidier when people came, (then forgotten it,) or stuff that I've put into drawers because I can't decide what else to do with it!!

Which brings me to the whole point of this blog ... how much 'stuff' should one keep??? I know, we've been down this path before, a few weeks ago when I wrote about hoarding and the perils of Syllogomania. But, this is different. I've just spent an hour going through a drawer containing cards my offspring gave me when they were young. My 'throw-away' pile was extremely small - how can you throw away this stuff??? I look at the crayon drawings of stick figures, flowers (plus the always present sun), and the carefully printed words "I love you Mum". Who can throw this stuff away??? The cute letters to Santa when they were young, then the cheeky funny ones when they were older. The funny birthday cards from when they were teenagers, now the mushy ones as they become parents themselves and realize what hard work it is! Yes, that drawer is still full.

The other day I had to clear out a drawer containing cards, notes, photographs from my years in the classroom. It took a long time to go through that drawer, as I read the notes I saw again in my mind the particular student who wrote it. The class pictures with everyone wearing their bests clothes, hair pasted down and smiling as though they actually enjoyed school. That was a huge part of my life - do I throw these out???

My mother was visiting when I was sorting through the school stuff, and as she passed my door I said, "Look at all this, so many wonderful memories." She just said it's all in the past, all gone, throw it all out.

HOW??? I look at this stuff and it makes me feel good ...

Well, I've decided I'm going to find myself a large, (very large) wooden storage chest, label it 'Keepsakes' and fill it to the brim with all this stuff. Then, next winter when the winds are howling, and the snow is piled up at the door, I'll open it and spend a fabulous afternoon tripping down Memory Lane.

I had better not tell Ray though, because he still has to clean out the garage - and HIS stuff can definitely all be thrown away!!! :-)

Bye for now - hurrah, it's March at last!

When were YOU born?

What was your birth order in your family? Were you the oldest, middle, youngest? Or, maybe an only child, or in the middle somewhere of a large family? Wherever your position it has long been a held belief that this position has a marked influence on your personality, type of job you choose, and even the person you choose as a life-partner.

How do I know this? Well, apart from formal medical research (which I'll get to later) I base these assumptions on: 1. my own personal experience growing up, 2. raising three children and 3. spending seven hours a day for twenty-two years in a classroom of young children.

Think of the people you know, and particularly those who were the oldest in their family ... are they a bit bossy, a bit neurotic, rather compulsive in their behaviours? I can say all this because I am "an oldest child" and my husband would say that I fit that description exactly (he is a "youngest" and we all know about them!!) As a Primary teacher I saw the eldest child in the family come to school often trying hard to please, getting over-upset when reprimanded, usually an over-achiever ... and I can't tell you how many times at interview times parents would say to me, "Wait until the second one comes!" And, generally they were correct ... the second child breezed into the classroom brimming with confidence, popular with his classmates, sometimes a little cheeky, and not worrying too much whether his work was right or not!

Of course I am generalizing, and there are lots of exceptions ... but certainly my own younger sister fitted the above description, and early family photos show her confidently smiling at the camera beside my own very self-conscious body language. Usually, she'll be seen casually holding on to one of our parents, while I will be off to one side a little, not touching anyone. One doesn't need a PhD in psychology to figure out how these differences occur again and again in families ... we make all our mistakes on our oldest children! As new parents, we hover and chart and worry and watch. Second child comes along to much more relaxed experienced parents, much busier parents - certainly too busy to hover and chart etc, sometimes even much older parents. Oldest children 'blaze the trail' and new parents over-react to all their normal stages of growing up.

Now, I have written this from an oldest child's point-of-view ... looking down at my happy, relaxed, spoilt younger sister. If she were here today, she'd give a very different point of view. She always maintained that as the oldest I got to do way more than she did, got the new clothes whilst she got the hand-me-downs, got way more attention than she did, and so it went on. When we were older she told me that she always envied me when we were growing up - I got higher grades, married first, was made more fuss of by the grandparents (really???)

But, don't take my word for it ... Alfred Adler was an Austrian Medical doctor and Psychologist who together with Freud and others co-founded the psychoanalytic movement. He later broke from Freud, and became well-known for his work on emphasizing the importance of equality in preventing various forms of psychopathology ...

"Adler often emphasized one's birth order as having an influence on the Style of Life and the strengths and weaknesses in one's psychological make up. Birth Order referred to the placement of siblings within the family. Adler believed that the firstborn child would be loved and nurtured by the family until the arrival of a second child. This second child would cause the first born to suffer feelings of dethronement, no longer being the center of attention. Adler believed that in a three-child family, the oldest child would be the most likely to suffer from neuroticism and substance addiction which he reasoned was a compensation for the feelings of excessive responsibility "the weight of the world on one's shoulders" (e.g. having to look after the younger ones) and the melancholic loss of that once supremely pampered position. As a result, he predicted that this child was the most likely to end up in jail or an asylum. Youngest children would tend to be overindulged, leading to poor social empathy. Consequently, the middle child, who would experience neither dethronement nor overindulgence, was most likely to develop into a successful individual yet also most likely to be a rebel and to feel squeezed-out. Adler himself was the second in a family of six children."

Which leads me to the middle child that I gave birth to. He reads this blog regularly (bless his great big heart, he's my only offspring who does!) and he commented today on my constant use of the expression "son #1" in my blog when referring to his older brother. Now, if you are a parent reading this you will understand that parents cannot do anything right when it comes to NOT showing any favouritism to their offspring!!! Even as good ol' Adler said above - whatever your family position you are doomed to either be a neurotic, a spoilt brat with no social empathy, or a successful rebel.

However, to maintain family peace ... I hearby express to the entire world that when I use the expression "son #1" I only refer to his birth order, NOT to the position he holds in my favour! (Thank goodness son #1 - ooops! - doesn't read this!)

MOVING UPDATE: Today our offer on the beautiful Ottawa bungalow which has captured our hearts was accepted, and Ray and I are ecstatic. But, I just realized that this new home will put us very close to son's # 1 and 2 ... hmmmm, I wonder if it's too late to withdraw the offer ...

Bye until next time

It Happened ...!!

Yes, it happened. I knew it would. We found a house in Ottawa which we absolutely fell in love with and which is absolutely perfect for us.

We spent all day Saturday being driven around by a Realtor looking at 12 houses which she had chosen based on a criteria list we had given to her. Most were nice homes, but the properties weren't quite what we were looking for ... too close to other homes, or not enough trees, or we could hear traffic on the highway, or the house was too big or too dark. Then, on number 8 or 9 we saw it. A perfect little bungalow, on 13 acres of wooded property. It has 3 bedrooms, a beautiful bright kitchen and dining area, a bright living room, and (what Ray was looking for) a full, unfinished basement which he can design and finish as he likes.

It is exactly 30 mins from #1 son's front door, and 40 mins to downtown Ottawa - perfect!! Only 10 mins. from the highway, but you cannot hear any traffic, and only 12 mins from a small town for groceries etc - perfect!

Yes, it's perfect. The only problem is we still have to sell this property we are living on. I knew this would happen ... (the Realtor comes tomorrow to appraise our present home.) But, it was a lovely weekend with the family, especially when our two sons and their families came with us on Sunday morning as we returned for a second look at the bungalow - what excitement, with our little grand-daughter excitedly running around yelling, "Which room will I sleep in Gran?" Everyone agreed it was perfect for us ... but, there is still the 'small' problem of the seller accepting our offer, not to mention us selling this place!

So, the "fun" begins. I don't want to wish my life away, but I wish I could fast-forward it over the next six months. It's so exciting, and so scary at the same time - so many unknowns!

Until next time, bye for now.

Big Decisions ...

Last month Ray and I made a big decision. We decided we are ready to leave our beautiful oasis in the woods and move to Ottawa. "What?" I hear you shout, "Leave that beautiful piece of heaven and move to a city???" Those exact thoughts have gone through our own minds many times over the last 6 weeks - are we crazy??? Are we making a HUGE mistake??? Will we always regret leaving here???

Our reasons for deciding to make the move are many-fold, and are generally connected with the reasons we moved here in the first place. Back in 2001, after 30 years of marriage, after overcoming some very serious health problems, after raising 3 children, after juggling two demanding careers, and after the unexpected early deaths of several close family members, we had had it! We both very badly needed some quiet, some peace and some shelter from life's storms ... and we certainly found it here. It's been wonderful. The people here are uncomplicated and friendly, the community events are fun, and the serene day-to-day living close to nature has healed our battered souls.

But, we have found that it is time to move on - to jump back into the fray and join the big world again ... plus, be closer to our growing family. We thought we would stay here into our dotage years, but obviously the universe has other ideas.

Why is it that the biggest decisions are often the easiest to make? I can spend hours deciding which dress to buy, or which meal to cook, but once that quiet inner voice whispered to me: "It's time to move on" it just felt so right, and the decision was easy. Ray needed a bit more time to get used to the idea, as he always does - to think it over, savour it for a few days, think of all the pros and cons, but then he agreed with me. He doesn't trust his intuition as I do - my intuition has NEVER steered me wrong - truly! It told me that Ray was the man I should marry; that the time was right to start a family; that teaching was the career for me; that Canada was the right country for us; that we should sell and move to the woods; and now it tells me very clearly that we will be happier living closer to our grand children, sons, daughters-in-law and all the excitement that a vibrant city like Ottawa can offer (not to mention excellent medical facilities for our ageing bodies!)

Yet, it will be so hard to leave here (if only we were millionaires and could afford to keep this lovely place just for vacations!!) Of course, 2009 is a crazy year to decide to sell a house on a lake with eight acres of wooded land around it!! With the sagging economy and all. Ah, but it is a great time to BUY!! So many lovely homes on the market right now, at very good prices, so people are obviously still moving around.

Which brings me to this weekend - we are off to Ottawa on Friday to scour out some of Ottawa's neighbourhoods and see which appeal to us. A Realtor recommended by son #1 has a full day lined up for us on Saturday. It's exciting and scary at the same time - what if we see our "dream home"?? We can't buy it until we sell our house! This is a 'look and see' expedition only ...

Hmmm, watch this space ... I think this subject is going to dominate my blogs for quite some months ... wish us luck this weekend.

Bye for now!