Travel Journals ...

Every time I go away on vacation I buy a spanking new journal with the very best intentions of filling every page with all my new adventures. Generally, I manage to keep it going for the first 2 or 3 days, then get behind a few days, and finally give up entirely in disgust as I'm so far behind it would take forever to get caught up.

Today is 4 months and 14 days until we leave for India, and I am determined to be a better journal writer on this trip. So, whilst browsing the travel books in my favourite bookstore I came across a wonderful little gem called "Writing Away" with a sub title of "a creative guide to awakening the journal-writing traveler" ... now, doesn't that sound just the thing for this perennial procrastinator? I flicked through it and immediately liked the author's style. With chapters like 'Let the Wild Writing Begin', 'Write Two Pages and Call Me in the Morning', and 'Having a Great Time, Wish I Were Here' - how could I resist?

The author, Lavina Spalding, has not disappointed me, and I am devouring this book like it was my last meal. I love this woman!! We must have been separated at birth! She had me hooked even in the Introduction with lines like:

"My aspiration is to embolden you to view everyday life as a journey and travel as an ongoing state of mind ... we write words in an empty book, and an inanimate object is transformed into a living, breathing memoir ...(your journal is) a relationship, and let me tell you, it's no cheap one-night stand."

So, I hungrily read on, and I learn that my journal should be unlined! "What?" I cry at the book in alarm, but Lavinia convinced me that an unlined book "evinces freedom: license to plaster the page with chaos, to doodle, sketch, experiment, paste in colourful brochures and paper chopsticks holders. An absence of lines leaves room for the imagination to take over." Of course, that's where I've been going wrong, I say to myself. My journals have all been lined, and obviously I've felt stifled, so stifled I couldn't continue - it has nothing to do with laziness at all. So, emboldened with my new enthusiasm I set out to find just the right journal for me.

Now, have you ever looked for a journal with blank pages? They are few and far between, everyone obviously wants the safety of lines! But, in the 3rd or 4th shop I found one, and the Buddha head and bamboo motif on the cover really 'spoke' to me, - and I could hear Lavinia's cheers at my success as I hurried home with my spanking new journal. I continued reading her book, and I was told that the book should "be willing to lie flat" and the pages should be cream or tan as "stark white pages can be intimidating." Naturally, my new journal does NOT lie flat and the pages are white. What's a poor intimidated journal writer to do? (Maybe read the WHOLE chapter before enthusiastically rushing to the shops?)

But, "Writing Away" continues to charm me. I've learned that my old habit of eavesdropping is not rude at all, in fact I am simply looking for "found dialogue" and as I scribble down the overheard gems in my journal I can be assured that I am participating in "one of life's sweet nectars". I'm not sure if Lavinia will ever make a continuous and conscientious journal writer out of me, but I certainly am enjoying her book and ideas regarding travelling. Last night before dropping off to sleep I read:

"Travel renews our youth, giving us dispensation to reclaim the original zest for art so often rooted out of us as adults. Surrounded by the unfamiliar, we regain the eyes of a six year old."

With those sweet thoughts in my head, I had very pleasant dreams last night.

I saw a very interesting documentary the other day. Basically it featured many groups of people of all ages, getting together every morning in various public parks and laughing. Yes, laughing. Loud, raucous laughter! It was quite funny to watch, and you found yourself smiling at them, but their intent was not to make YOU smile, but to make themselves feel better.This was Laughter Yoga. An amazing technique started in Mumbai India, by Dr. Madan Kataria 15 years ago. Apparently, he was writing an article entitled "Laughter - The Best Medicine" and decided to test it on himself and a few friends. It seems the body cannot tell the difference between real laughter and laughter on command, and the benefits are amazing!

"Studies have shown that laughter has a profound positive impact on both our physical and mental well-being. The benefits range from reducing anxiety and stress, to oxygenating our blood and organs, to improving circulation and releasing endorphins. Laughter also lifts our mood, reduces blood pressure and strengthens our immune systems. Western science is just beginning to discover the many positive effects of laughter."

So, the good Dr. Kataria of Mumbai added a few yoga breathing exercises between bouts of laughter, and voila, 'Laughter Yoga' was born! Now there are Laughter Yoga groups all around the world. I googled it and found there is even a group here where I live. I've emailed the leader to see when they meet - so watch this space!

Try it ... throw your head back, and laugh out loud (maybe in a private place at first if you are a little shy). It works, and who knows, perhaps it might shed a few pounds too - or, you'll simply be too relaxed to worry about them!

Letter to my mother ...

Dear Mother,

As I write this you are living at the Interim Long Term Care Facility at the local hospital. You are there because at this stage of your life you need the extra care that they can give you, but I don't think you understand that. I visit you when I can. I know I used to come 3 or 4 times a week, but I just can't do that any more and I feel badly as I know you like me to be there. I can only come twice a week now because my visits drain the very life out of me. Leaving you I feel limp and useless.

You always had that effect on me. It was never easy for us to be in the same room, was it? Now when I visit, you cling to me as though you were clinging to life itself, and I'm sure it must feel like that to you. You cry, and you agonize because you want your life condition to be better.

Dementia is an ugly word.

Total dementia would be easier for you. But, life hasn't been that kind, it has given you partial dementia. Enough so you need 24 hour care, but you are often fully comprehending where you are and what is happening to you. That is why I feel so sad for you Mother.

Ray came to see you this morning, but you were not very pleasant to him. I expect you were mad that it wasn't me ... but I have visited twice this week and I still feel the effects of those visits. I will come on Monday after my yoga class. But, I cannot tell you that, because time has no meaning for you now.

The nurses tell me you are trying to manipulate me. Are you? It certainly wouldn't be the first time ...

Who would have thought that you would be leaning on me at the end of your life? Often when you hug me now, you whisper sorry, sorry. Are you saying you're sorry for crying? Or, is this a confessional sorry?

Does it even matter any more?

I'll do my best for you mother. But, I can't allow you to suck me dry. I need my essence, I need my spirit, I need my energy as I still have a lot of living to do, a lot of good times to experience with my wonderful husband, family and friends that surround me.

I wish our 61 years together had been different, but they were what they were.

And I will continue to do my best for you mother, I won't leave you. Don't cry any more.

To Plan, or Not to Plan ...

I think one of the best parts of a journey is the planning stage. Someone once said that the pleasure in a trip is 90% anticipation - I agree. So, I have been indulging myself on a mammoth scale recently, scouring the Internet for every little bit of information regarding our upcoming trip to India.

I'm obsessed! Firing off questions to the various travel site forums on the best places to stay, the best tour guides to hire, the best shops to buy silk etc. etc. etc.
Oh, I'm having SO much fun! IndiaMike.com and Trip Advisor have become my new best friends ... also Sonia in India who is handling our car and driver hire, and is firing back answers as quickly as I can send them. She's even invited Ray and I to stay at her home in Jaipur for the 3 nights we are there!

I started thinking of all the fun people miss when they book a standard tour, or place all this in the hands of a travel agency. Just pay your money and follow the lady with the yellow flag, don't question us, don't worry, don't think, you are in good hands with us ... I could NEVER join one of those groups. But I know they have a place, and I must admit that sometimes when I'm frustrated at finding just the right place - well, I can see they might have a certain appeal.

Then there are the travellers who never plan, who like to just 'wing-it'... they are mostly single (and likely to stay that way;) and often under 30 ... I don't fall into that category either, although I must say I rather envy their laissez-faire attitude.

No, I'm a planner, and it's the part of the journey I adore. I am constantly amazed at how generous people whom I've never met, and likely never will, are with their time and sharing of experiences. Like Paul, a professional photographer from California, who travelled with his wife to India 2 years ago, and whose answers and comments I came to enjoy on T.A.'s India forum. I felt we were on the same wavelength which waslater confirmed when he mentioned that he had spent a full year planning their 3 week Indian trip (now, there's a planner!) I read that he had written a 7 page account of their India trip which he'd be happy to forward to others if it would help them plan. This comment was 2 years old, but I took a chance and sent him a personal message (you can do that on Trip Advisor) and asked if he still had the 7 page epistle, and would he kindly forward it to me also? Well, he had, and he did! That began an interesting correspondence between us and even a phone call, with the result that my itinerary was further tweaked to include an overnight 6 hour train ride.

So, where are we going? Well, it's going to be fantastic ... we will sleep in a traditional tribal clay hut with thatched roof in Nawalgarh, stay with a vegetarian Indian family in Jaipur, sleep in a very old Maharaj Palace in Bundi, an Englishman's desert retreat house in Udaipur, travel overnight on a sleeper train, stay with my penpal in Pune, and sleep as close to the beach as we can get in Goa.

I am SO excited!!!!

Unfulfilled Dreams

Do you have a dream? Somewhere or something that has captured your imagination most of your life, yet try as you might you have not yet been able to fulfill?

My dream is India - in all it's glory, noise, confusion, squalor and majesty!

I took University courses in my 30's in Indian history and Indian religions, drinking up every drop of information presented (although my senior brain has forgotten a lot of it now!) I watched every movie I could that was based in India, every documentary, read non-fiction books on India and fiction based in India.

But life, as always, always seemed to get in the way of me living my dream, be it marriage, children, career, health issues, family commitments, husband's bad knees ... whatever, something else always took precedent. That was OK, I simply told myself that there was plenty of time, I knew I would go someday. Then last year I turned 60 ... what? How did that happen? I'm suddenly a senior? Where did all those years go? I need to start living my dreams NOW! But, hubby needed a knee replacement, so again I waited.

Knees now good as new, and we're finally going to India next January!!

It's a funny thing about India. Say the word and you instantly get two reactions. People either screw up their noses and look at you in total disbelief that you'd even consider going to such a place, or they get a serene half smile on their lips and start going into raptures of how much they adore India and recount long tales of their own travels there.

Yes, India is a dichotomy. Totally unexplainable.


It's home to over 1.2 billion people of wildly varying religions, cultures and levels of wealth. Only 63 years since declaring its Independence from English rule, modern India is still defining itself, sometimes against the friction inside and outside of its borders.

But,I've found a fantastic website at www.indiamike.com which is helping me prepare (as much as one can) since it's aimed at travelers to India - it's frank and offers very down-to-earth honest advice. For example, one article for virgin India visitors (like me) makes no bones about what my first impressions will be like:

"Your welcome to India is not a friendly one. The first thing you notice is the people. I mean lots of people. People moving in all directions. You have to deal with the worst of India head-on, and it’s really raw. Be it the beggars, the touts, the poor children, or the local taxi drivers, you have to deal with all of them minutes after your arrival.

Whatever tricks and tips you have prepared yourself with are forgotten in a matter of minutes after facing this rude welcome. It’s like learning to swim by reading a book, and then jumping right into the pool. India teaches you new lessons only after you have failed the test." (http://www.indiamike.com/india-articles/8_the-india-confusion)

This is the kind of thing first time visitors need to read, but as my daughter said after her first visit to India last year, "Mum, you think you are prepared for it all, but it still hits you over the head like a 2 by 4!"

Has this dampened my enthusiasm at all? Not one little bit. I know that visiting India is more of an experience than a vacation, but I think that I might just have an itinerary planned which would give us a bit of both - more about that in my next post. Stay tuned!

Gardening with Gin

After red wine, my favourite tipple is gin and tonic. Ooooooh, I can salivate right now just thinking of squeezing in a great chunk of lemon, adding extra ice cubes and then sipping it back - marvellous!! So, imagine my surprise when I discovered a book combining my favourite pastime and my favourite tipple. It's fabulous title is "The Gin and Tonic Gardener" by Janice Wells, with a sub title of "Confessions of a Reformed Compulsive Gardener".


I shared this title with a friend who also happens to be an avid gardener (not sure if she's into gin and tonic, but I know she's very fond of red wine!) and she loved the title so much she ordered the book. So, who said a good title doesn't boost sales???

Anyway, what this book is about is attitude, not just about gardens, but towards life. Wells has come to the conclusion that perfection, botanical or otherwise, is not the goal. Enjoyment is. Endurance is. The first line of her Introduction says, "When my mother was trying to be tactful, she called me a relaxed housekeeper." Yes!! Another relaxed housekeeper, and she likes gin and tonic, plus a relaxed garden - this is my kind of woman!!

So, as I head out to watch my weeds growing on top of each other, I'll just pour another drink and consider buying another of her books entitled "Definitely Not Martha Stewart". You've gotta love it!!!

Waves of Life

Isn't it infuriating how life can suddenly shove you sideways like a giant wave? Knock you off your feet, drag you under, and if you are lucky, deposit you gasping and exhausted up onto the shore?

Just three weeks ago Ray and I were thoroughly enjoying a very relaxing tour of the Maine coast and New Brunswick's rocky shores. Lazy hours mesmerized by the crashing ocean, long walks along deserted sandy beaches (deserted in New Brunswick, at least!) and just enjoying a rather nomadic wandering couple of weeks. Then, the first little wave hit the shore - our son phoned to let us know my mother appeared to have developed another delirium and he was on the way to the hospital to see how she was. The second wave hit an hour later as I talked to her on my cell phone trying to persuade her confused and agitated mind to co-operate and take the medicines the doctors had prescribed.

Should we immediately return home? It was a 13 hour drive, and we had a unique boat trip booked in 2 days time to a bird sanctuary in the Bay of Fundy to watch puffins feeding their young from birding blinds. No, stay, stressed my caring sons, we can manage here, nanny is being well cared for. Reluctantly, and rather guiltily, we waited for the trip. More waves, literal ones this times, 6ft ones, blew up and caused our bird trip to be cancelled. Home we went.

Now the waves are coming fast and furious, and I confess I often feel submerged by them. Searching for a good Nursing Home for my mother is proving exhausting, daily visits to my increasingly confused hospitalized mother is very depressing, and finally finding a good Home only to be told the waiting list is 18 months long is crushing.

I'm clinging to the fact that rainbows always appear (somewhere!) after a storm, so I am taking deep breaths of life-giving air so I survive when I am finally cast up on the beach.

Where are my pictures????

All my blog pictures have vanished!!! Well, actually not vanished, I inadvertently erased them ... technology is great, but when 'stuff' gets erased with a simple press of a button - yikes!!!

Sorry folks ...




So, better start again. This picture was from last week, my grandson's soccer practice. Son Brian is coaching Josh's team - 5 and 6 year olds.

Wasn't it just yesterday that my husband coached Brian's team when he was 6 years of age, and I sat on the sidelines shouting encouragement?

Ain't it grand to see history repeating itself?

Poor Thailand.

I ache for it's people

The innocent ones who just want to earn a living.

The ones we've met on visits there

Smiling, friendly, ever-helpful.

They are a Buddhist people

Buddhists believe in non-violence

So, why is there fighting in Bangkok?

Can democracy only come through violence?

Has no-one read Gandhi?



http://www.abc.net.au/news/video/2010/05/18/2902603.htm

Isn't it wonderful when you come across something someone has written that reflects exactly how you feel - and they were able to choose just the right words to express it?

This spring I have dug up and created a large new garden in the front of our house, and I cannot tell you how much joy and excitement I have had planning it, scouring various gardening books deciding on just the right perennials and flowering shrubs to plant there.

However, this past week I have spent many hours each day sitting at my elderly mother's bedside in the hospital, and as she dozed I lifted my spirits away from the smells and sounds of hospital life by browsing a gardening book by a particular favourite of mine. Steve Whysall is a gardener and journalist who lives in British Columbia, and he writes various newspaper gardening columns and gardening books.

In his book "100 Best Plants for the Ontario Garden" he wrote:

"If gardening is about anything, it is about knowing and valuing the inherent power of nature to overcome winter and bounce back to life."

It's almost worth living through 4 months of snow each year to experience the overwhelming happiness I feel when I see the 90 daffodils I planted last fall with the grand kids, popping their heads up through the still cold soil. Yea, they survived! Or, watching the blossom on our new pear tree (that we thought had died) swelling by the day.

Thank you Steve Whysall for taking me away from a sad reality of my life, even for just a little while.

Such is the power of a few well-chosen words.

I watched an utterly amazing documentary this evening borrowed from the local library. It is called "The English Surgeon" which seems like a rather humble title, in my opinion, for an extremely remarkable man.

Dr. Henry Marsh is a renown neurosurgeon at one of London's top hospitals, yet since 1992 he has spent much of his free time helping, operating, and trying to improve medical conditions in the Ukraine. The film follows him on one of his trips to a Ukrainian hospital which we see is full of desperate patients and makeshift equipment. In his suitcase is 'old' equipment which has been discarded by his British hospital, yet is received with joy by his Ukrainian counterpart. Drill bits which are used once in London then discarded, are made to be used for 10 years in the Ukrainian hospital.

Indeed this film is not for the squeamish. In one part it shows Dr. Marsh operating on a patients' brain using only a local anesthetic (I had to look away during parts of that) the patient is alert and talking throughout, and the doctors use a handyman's Bosch cordless drill to gain access into the brain. The operation was a success despite the drill running rather low on power in the middle!

This is an intimate portrait of a true humanitarian.

I received this last week, and to my mind it speaks of the ultimate truth. Here are just a few of the frames.

Hope it speaks to you too ...

Rainy Days ...

It’s damp and rainy today. A day which many people say is best spent in bed. But rainy days don’t affect me like that. I like them! I especially enjoy the way they put no demands on me. On days like this I am free to choose my own mood.

When the weather is warm and sunny people tend to walk around with a spring in their step and a smile on their face, and expect the world to feel the same, they shout out at strangers, “Isn’t it a wonderful day?” I wonder what would happened if I replied, “No, actually, I don’t think it is!”

Being worried, distressed or depressed on a sunny day feels three times as bad. It’s like being alone at Christmas. Even if it’s your choice, your preferred state, it feels wrong, out of sync with the world.

Likewise with a bright fresh day – you are not supposed to feel down or listless. There are windows to be washed, weeds to be weeded, grass to be cut. Everyone and their dog is outside enjoying this ‘beautiful’ day. Except you … because you don’t have the energy or ambition to get off the couch, let alone lift a rake. On days like that it feels like a giant magnifying glass is being held up to your mood, and it is found wanting.

No, give me a rainy day. All the energizer bunnies are then safely inside their own little boxes, where I can’t see them, and probably feeling sorry for themselves because their boisterous activities are being curtailed by the weather. Good job they don’t live in rainy old England – if you stayed inside there when it rains you’d never see the light of day!

An old friend, who happens to be an Anglican minister, once told me that his parishioners were always telling him that he should smile more often. It’s true that his face, at rest, has a rather curmudgeon look to it, and he has a shaggy grizzly beard which hides many of his features. However, to me, it is the kind of face that a person can feel comfortable with – rather like an old comfy chair. He said he doesn’t trust people who smile all the time and I think I firmly agree with him!

The Importance of Walking ...

A good friend emailed me this because she knows of my new walking regime (I just returned from my 5km walk - I'm so proud of myself!) It's very funny and I simply had to share it here ... enjoy!


My grandpa started walking
five miles a day when he was 60.
Now he's 97 years old
and we don't know where the hell he is.

I like long walks,
especially when they are taken
by people who annoy me.

The only reason I would take up walking
is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.

I have to walk early in the morning,
before my brain figures out what I'm doing... (This is my favourite!)

I joined a health club last year,
spent about 400 bucks.
Haven't lost a pound.
Apparently you have to go there.

The advantage of exercising every day
is so when you die, they'll say,
'Well, she looks good doesn't she.'

If you are going to try cross-country skiing,
start with a small country.

We all get heavier as we get older,
because there's a lot more information in our heads.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

AND

Every time I start thinking too much
about how I look,
I just find a Happy Hour
and by the time I leave,
I look just fine.


Have a great day :-)

If your shins scream at you
to stop.
Should you submit?


If your feet yell at you
"Enough!"
Should you obey?


If your hips whimper
and whinge.
Should you heed?


When starting a new exercise programme
should you listen to your body -

Or, your brain?

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 ...