tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-107164402024-03-15T22:11:16.303-03:00daysgobythis is not my beautiful house....Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.comBlogger1316125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-80945085631557360212024-02-16T15:05:00.005-04:002024-02-16T15:05:57.817-04:00A couple of big blows<p> Snow, that is. My province has been hit hard this year. We're still digging out from the St. Valentine's day storm, and we might find Cape Breton (in the eastern-most part of Nova Scotia) in May or June. There are still people trapped in their houses out there.</p><p>And it's bitter cold.</p><p>It's still cold enough, in fact, to make winter food like chili and soups and dumplings, but the sunny days make me want salads and barbecue and warmer things.</p><p><br /></p><p>Ah, who am I kidding. I'd give a lot to see a robin or a crocus or anything growing free.</p><p><br /></p><p>Groundhogs. Lousy liars.</p>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-15227030434243774932023-12-05T15:46:00.001-04:002023-12-05T15:46:25.013-04:00Something about Christmas time<p> The tree is up. Yes, I tried to put it off as long as I could, but this year as soon as American Thanksgiving was over, my daughter INSISTED and we got everything out. And it's pretty and nice to look at in the evenings but a solid MONTH of Christmas flash and dash stretches out in front of me like a long hard road.</p><p>Buying Christmas gift for young adults (um, mah baybee is NINETEEN) isn't nearly as fun as it used to be ('What do you want for Christmas?' 'Um, an Amazon card?' SIGH) since they already know what they're getting, but it's definately easier. There's not a lot of running around the malls anymore.</p><p>Which is good, because somehow, in the past month, I've managed to have an outbreak of shingles, gave my vaccinated daughter chickenpox, and then went through Covid afterwards. (Because the first wasn't ...fun enough?) So we've been all kinds of fun at our house.</p><p>Christmas can't come fast enough. The lights are pretty and all, but right now, my favourite present is going to be a NAP.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-73315089837194038772023-08-22T12:55:00.001-03:002023-08-22T12:55:31.193-03:00Well, that went quickly...<p>I'm having a visitor this summer! Dad is coming up!</p><p>He had a suggestion "Maybe Casbah could get his passport, fly down, and drive [with Dad] back up to Nova Scotia?" </p><p><br /></p><p>Casbah loved the idea. ESPECIALLY when he found out Dad was bringing the MGB.</p><p>So! Passport has been ordered. Ferry bookings made. Now trying to find Dad an air b&b and some airline reservations for Cass - and trying to figure out how to cram thirty years worth of flying-alone wisdom into my never-flown kid.</p><p><br /></p><p>Psh. It seems a very short time ago he was holding my hand when we crossed the road, and now....now he's going to fly by himself.</p><p><br /></p><p>( I'm honestly not freaked about him being in an airplane hundreds of feet above the earth - I'm thinking of my poor kid being confused and lost in an airport.)</p><p><br /></p><p>(Also still salty about the fact that I'VE never driven the MG. Okay - to be perfectly honest... never driven the MG when Dad's OKAYED IT.)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-82196773035528023962023-08-14T10:16:00.003-03:002023-08-14T10:16:45.792-03:00crick in my neck<p> I spent the whole weekend looking up!</p><p><br /></p><p>Saturday evening was spent at the beach (Nova S has gorgeous beaches, both inland and Atlantic-Ocean-side) staring at the skies with a really nice group of people, looking for shooting stars. The company was fantastic, the food awesome, and the fire was great. And the scenery! The stars just go on **forever** out there. A patchwork of heavens.</p><p><br /></p><p>It's easier to draw a deep breath out there, with the waves lapping the shore and stars streaking through the night. There was a moment when everything looked like a negative</p><p><br /></p><p>Sunday was a different kind of look up - we had torrential thunderstorms, complete with pink jagged lightning and big old boomers. Rora, who has never met a storm she couldn't bark her indignation at, was in fine form. THEN we lost power, and everything...stopped. Bear woke me, muttering about checking the basement (we just had a very expensive experience with flooding and replacing things down there) and needless to say....I didn't sleep much after that.</p><p>But! dawn came. And now the day is sullen and grey, but warming. People are walking their dogs in shorts and the region is here, clipping the weeds that have grown in the cracks in the pavement. </p><p><br /></p><p>Happy Monday! It's going to be a great week, I can just feel it.</p>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-34543981438641964312023-08-03T12:02:00.000-03:002023-08-03T12:02:05.991-03:00I should take my own parenting advice<p> Anyone ever get a weird vibe about what might have been? I was browsing through some of my Facebook feed and spotted some (not mine) reunion pictures - and I went to bed thinking "what if..."</p><p><br /></p><p>What if I'd married the serious boyfriend?</p><p>What if I'd married the boy next door?</p><p>What if I'd married the boy who was in love with me?</p><p>What if I still lived where I grew up?</p><p><br /></p><p>Who would I be?</p><p><br /></p><p>Welllll, the serious boyfriend is still a friend on Facebook, but we kinda don't share the same core political values and we're both quite outspoken. (AKA: there would be noisy fights at the Thanksgiving table) He's chosen a life I can't see myself living, although I think he has peace with it. </p><p> The boy next door - le sigh. I still sneak peeks at his profile every once in awhile just to see how he's doing. And I miss who he was, although I'm not sure we'd like each other if we just met now.</p><p>The boy who was in love with me - ahhh. He was (and still is!) a sweetie. His lovely wife and brilliant children do him credit. He is, of them all, the one who turned out the most like I thought he would - a creative, science-y career, a lovely life.</p><p>I'm really, truly afraid that if I hadn't uprooted everything and moved here I'd still be moribund, still stuck doing all the same old things - and never feeling the need to change.</p><p><br /></p><p>I guess I gave myself roots and wings, and I soared.</p><p><br /></p>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-54723410902755316382023-07-28T13:09:00.001-03:002023-07-28T13:09:17.759-03:00No, seriously<p> Uncle.</p><p><br /></p><p>First this summer we had a cold snap, then huge roaring forest fires in several areas of the province, and last week we had flooding.</p><p><br /></p><p>I'm afraid to ask when the locusts are going to arrive.</p><p><br /></p><p>Today: the sun is out, bicyclists are whizzing past, there's a lovely breeze - it's a lovely, hot summers day. </p><p><br /></p><p>But there's a part of me that's afraid to see what tomorrows weather will bring.</p>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-17473832065911740432023-07-18T10:18:00.003-03:002023-07-18T10:18:22.378-03:00Plugging away'Start as you mean to go on' - it's one of the best pieces of advice my mother ever gave me, and simultaneously one of the hardest to fulfill. I mean, doesn't everyone want a day off from responsibilities sometimes?
Still, it's great counsel. And I'd be a fool not to at least TRY to keep up my jobs.
(That laundry isnt going to do itself, no matter what other plans you have or other chores you have. It's just not. The House Hippoes are not coming to save me. More's the pity.)
A lot changes in a few weeks. Rosey-roo has a new major, a new beau, and a new outlook, and Casbah has (dare I say it?) figured out that he really likes Health Care.
Bear is just (just!) coming off a seven-month oddysey of carpal tunnel surgery that didnt work, and a *lot* of physical therapy. Not only has this been distressing and horrible for him, it's done a number on our finances as well. I've been trolling the internet, looking for something part-time. A side-gig. I'm leery of the 'You can make thousands a week!' people and unimpressed with the "Click here! Do this! Watch the money roll in!" crows, which leaves me...I don't know.
Confused, I think they call it.
But still plugging away.
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-55747233716975247502023-07-01T11:27:00.001-03:002023-07-01T11:27:29.209-03:00Canada Day, hoo-ra!Say hey for a three-day weekend! Especially one where everyone barbecues and has long, lazy mornings. I'm on my third cup of coffee, and feeling fine. Enough of my house-chores are done so now i can curl up and read, or even (heaven!) think about taking a nap.
The downside of a holiday falling on the weekend? The usual errands can't be done. No grocery shopping (did a lot of that last night, where I spent a few minutes staring slack-jawed at the wall of empty shelves where the bread usually is displayed. Holy canolli, people, the store will be closed ONE DAY. ONE. Lets not panic all at the same time.
But! Some of the tiny mom-and-pop stores are still open. Maybe, later, a drive and an ice-cream on the beach?
Sounds like something the rebels that made Canada might be proud of.
Freedom, choice, and a good sweet treat.
Happy Canada Day, y'all.
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-69265827653443131022023-06-19T09:08:00.001-03:002023-06-19T09:08:11.951-03:00SputteringI keep trying to restart this, and fading out. It's disappointing, because I love this space and all the voices that have piped up with me along the way. I need to do better!
I'm at work this morning, grabbing a few minutes to drink coffee (heavily, Mondays are NOT fun 'round here) and blurt out what's going on right now.
Hum.
Work: BUSY. The office just opened up a second, related-but-not-quite-the-same venture in the same building, and the new people and new energy has been great. And while the new bit isn't really causing me much extra work (right now, it has the possibility to add to my workload once it really starts going) it's really, really nice to see the smiles on peoples' faces when they leave.
The law office across the street just changed hands and the new owners are turning it into a restaurant, complete with new doors and new bricking. That part has been interesting too, watching the re-assembling of this stately old building to be something new and modern while still preserving its roots.
Home: BUSY. I've been starting a 'Throw away five things a day' (because the husbeast doesn't notice clutter and mess makes my left eye twitch) and while somedays I'm really good about it "The tatty bathroom rug goes OUT! The bottles of leftover shampoo in the shower go OUT!" somedays I'm throwing away grocery receipts and counting my five things in mismatched socks. I need to do better.
Rosey and Cass are grown up and working, and Roo is returning to college this fall. Cass is taking a few semesters off to work in the new section of my office (and he's LOVING it) and is re-thinking his career trajectory. He still loves his chosen field of study but is realistically looking around and noticing that YEARS of school might not be a good plan right now.
Rosey is spreading her wings - two jobs, a vibrant social life and ideas about how she wants to live.
She still makes time so we can go get boba on the weekends, though. It makes her old mom feel good.
What's going on with you?
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-6186050983831075162021-05-04T22:40:00.004-03:002021-05-04T22:40:33.785-03:00Bookin’I took about a hundred names off my facebook friend list tonight. Really, it went surprisingly quickly, with only a few 'who was this again?' moments. I was surprised how many different groups of people I have as friends on facebook, and how looking at them can show the course of my life like a big old patchwork quilt.
Bloggers, of course, then high-school and university friends, different jobs and peer groups, so many memories! then a huge group of 'people-I-know-but-not-really', and its that group I culled through tonight.
Sub-groups as well, including 'Oh, yes, I knew your sister' and 'Yes, we do work at the same place, but we haven't said anything to each other on here in a year' and 'I like your posts but not your attitudes' and the whammo 'Why did I ever???'
Waaay back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and Facebook was a young'un, there were Lists. I feel like i could use a few of those to help me sort these remaining people.
The strange thing is, I doubt many of the deleted ones will notice I'm gone, really. Which means I've done a very-overdue thing.
Feelin' fine tonight.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-49084290319666079872021-02-11T11:14:00.010-04:002021-02-11T11:21:48.550-04:00ketchupI'm still here. Still nattering along, just being me. The kids are getting bold and big - can I even call Cass a kid anymore? Prolly not, really, since he's nineteen, bearded, and going to university (altho' Covid has made it less of a new adventure and more a taking classes online and not moving out of the house kind of thing) but he'll always be a kid to me.
Roo is a junior in high school (HOW??) and coming into her own. She's making great grades, has two part-time jobs, and continues to be her own sparkly self.
Bear is currently out on stress leave - this Covid mess has everyone twisted up.
Aaaaand....we have a dog. We lost Jasper last spring, dithered a few months, then I jumped at the chance to foster, and....well, as my history shows, I'm an excellent foster parent, with attachment issues. They don't leave. Aurora the pocket shepherd (shep-border collie mix, as far as we can tell) has joined the pack. We are much richer for having her.
I am very lucky to live where I do, Nova S is almost untouched (thank you, Premier McNeil, for your leadership and keeping us all safe) and we're all cautious but hopeful.
Having the rest of my family still in the States, though, scares the bejesus out of me.
Personally? Still the same weight, a lot more silver strands. Last night I realized I can wear Mom's wedding band now. It looks strange on my hand. I miss her fiercely somedays.
The sun is out, although it's a bitterly cold day. The sky is a thousand colours of blue and the clouds look smudged like pastel crayons.
It's a gorgeous day.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-75277001313807168352019-12-08T23:14:00.000-04:002019-12-08T23:14:09.313-04:00Yarn over and overSomeone, an old babysitter maybe, taught me to crochet when I was six. I remember making long braided loops of yarn and thinking how pretty it was. Then, like kids do, I charged forth into something else and forgot all about the flash of the hook and the way the colours fell from my hands.
I tried to knit a few years ago. HA! The two sticks made me stabby. I managed to make lots of knots before completely losing my patience with the whole enterprise and hurling the knobbly bits into the trash.
And that should have been the end of it, except....
Except I remembered the hook, and started watching videos and puzzling out stitches. I’m not particularly good at it (being left-handed, and also clumsy) and it’s slow, frustrating going, but I’m ....I’ve got a Christmas project on the go now, and I want to finish it.
Knot so bad for an old girl.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-44093758922956461962019-12-02T23:40:00.002-04:002019-12-03T06:54:08.318-04:00Bring on 2020 and the dancing bears2019 has been kind. I’ve lost weight (a stomach operation, then changing my diet has made some drastic changes) I’ve been diagnosed with a (treatable) heart condition, and I have a job I really love. Job singular. For the first time in YEARS, I have ONE job, not a main and side-gigs. So of course I’ve been volunteering up a storm. Heh. You’d think I’d relax or something.
My kids are gorgeous and amazing. The small boy Cass is now a senior in high school, with plans for university and his future. I’m so proud of the man he’s becoming, although I still miss the ghost of his six year old self with the flashing gap-toothed grin. Nowadays he’s much less likely to eat the last cookie and much more probable to ask me if I’ve seen the Gordon Ramsey turkey video, and then borrow the car.
The small girl Rosey is now in tenth grade, and she’s flowering into a lovely, self-aware young woman. She comes in colours like a rainbow, as the old song says, and Rosey feels things deeply. She has wise old woman eyes, and she has the ability to empathize with everyone she meets.
We lost one of the kitties this year, our calico-love Lucy. She went to sleep in her usual spot under Roo’s bed, and then went on ahead of us in her catly way. We miss her and her squeezebox purring that echoed through the house. The other two cats (the irrepressible Boo and Inky) and the housebunny Violet moped for a long time.
Jasper is still doddering along. He’s deaf and cataract-laden, and he’s got a horrible racking cough that probably means he’s cooking up something nasty and cancer-related, but as long as he’s happy and able to be with us, we will certainly be thrilled to have him.
Bear is....Bear. Still steady and sweet, still infuriating-at-times. He’s the easiest character to write about here, as he doesn’t change much. (A good *and* bad thing, sometimes.)
Bring on the Roaring Twenties, Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-42835927235829545602018-05-08T19:08:00.002-03:002019-12-03T00:12:15.862-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtGIuNNJOEcQ4j3GdT0DDe6gXI-jCkgQIzOZK-7xtM9dknXcTmzeDbu7mayEgo67yHEiyvE_KHXHxD0Qwnztim-1Aa4-K4VuJY7Znhn8QB4aMhR2ldmhe8EDSJPZ6qgJlWxmyuw/s1600/602F9B65-87EC-49BB-9243-AB910E2EA856.jpeg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtGIuNNJOEcQ4j3GdT0DDe6gXI-jCkgQIzOZK-7xtM9dknXcTmzeDbu7mayEgo67yHEiyvE_KHXHxD0Qwnztim-1Aa4-K4VuJY7Znhn8QB4aMhR2ldmhe8EDSJPZ6qgJlWxmyuw/s320/602F9B65-87EC-49BB-9243-AB910E2EA856.jpeg" width="320" height="320" data-original-width="1268" data-original-height="1269" /></a>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-28244695429784961312018-05-06T18:49:00.000-03:002018-05-06T18:49:03.955-03:00Sighing that it’s Sunday<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">And another weekend is in the can. Shopping, a lot of walks (with the sadly aging and grey-ing doggo, who is probably on a long slow decline, as most big dogs are wont to do) some reading, some cleaning, a huge-and-delicious potato salad consumed, a garden full of seeds planted. (Potting soil, seeds, cardboard egg cartons. The ground is yet to be raked, although that will have to be this week, since the seeds are showing green soft heads and relishing the warmth of the sun porch.) </span><br />
<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">
One kid is blissed out with a new movie, and the other, re-reading her English assignment. </div>
<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">
I have yet to make lunches, but once I get off the couch and get that done, I’ll probably opt for throwing some laundry in and an early bedtime. Fresh sheets and a good book. Yum.</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">
A delicious way to end the weekend.</div>
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-66506544328790796742017-05-22T21:39:00.001-03:002017-05-22T21:39:16.779-03:00good Methodist kidWe are all amalgamations of our upbinging. Good or bad, that's just the way the chips fall, and it's up to each one of us to tweak these parts and bits and make ourselves into who we want to be.<br />
<br />
That process can take years. A lifetime, even.<br />
<br />
Two tenets I carry with me are the Methodist creed (commonly attributed to John Wesley, although not found in any of his writings) 'Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.' And something less famous, although no less thought of, ' Do nice things, and nice things will happen to you'. Call it karma, call it common sense, call it whatever you like - it's something I believe in.<br />
<br />
Today, at the end of a brilliant three day weekend, one where we all did something fun, both collectively and by ourselves, three days of blue skies and open-window freshness, I went to the car to pick up Cass at the beach where he was with a group of friends and found not one, but two gifts meant to make me feel appreciated for a small thing I'd done.<br />
<br />
I love them. I've been smiling all night. If you do nice things......<br />
<br />
Back to work tomorrow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-82289811138779786652017-05-20T18:52:00.001-03:002017-05-20T18:52:29.781-03:00Lovely day Lovely day (A lovely day)*This has turned into a most awesome day, my friends.<br />
<br />
The first day of a three day weekend, weather switching from melt-your-face-off heat into sweet late spring sunshine, and so much possibility in every sigh of the wind.<br />
<br />
Bear called up the stairs "Want to go to breakfast?"<br />
<br />
I actually had to wake the kids. They sleep harder now than when they were small. After enjoying food not-cooked-by-me (yay!) we went through the car wash, drove through the countryside in search of a new flooring shop that has been advertising itself all over Facebook but was still not open on Saturday ????? and chatted and laughed and I only had to stop two sibling puckers. (Named, of course, for the faces I get when I shut the arguing down.) <br />
<br />
Cass's music boomed through the speakers. Now, Cass and I don't always agree on music -he's been going through a shudderingly awful rap stage- but this was bouncy. And techno, in a way that brought to mind the (unimaginably number of years ago) time when I was in my first car, going to go pick up my friends for a high school dance. Weirdly similar. I was musing on how everything old is new again (oh my god, rompers are back!) when the boy informed me with a smug twinkle that he knew I'd love it, as it was a song from 1986.<br />
<br />
Apparently he'd heard it on the bus heading home from the track meet, and now it was on his playlist. So everything old IS new again. (But this time, NO ROMPERS.)<br />
<br />
We stopped at a lovely new market, then drove home, planning a barbecue. After Bear remembered that our grill is out of commission, he and Cass found an old washer, yanked it's insides out, and now I have a fire pit.<br />
<br />
I am so excited to try it out. Not tonight for supper, tho', as there's a partial fire ban on, and we can't have a fire until after dark. But SOON.<br />
<br />
Tonight we're eating the first batch of potato salad.<br />
<br />
Hello, summer.<br />
<br />
<i>*title, of course, from the Bill Withers song</i>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-80347134409985200442017-03-30T20:54:00.001-03:002017-03-30T20:54:56.357-03:00spring needs to springIt's been interesting around here lately.<br />
<br />
We're just coming out of an unseasonably late ice storm, which whirled the trees and coated everything in frozen water and despair. Today, the sun came out again and people squinted and smiled at the glints coming off the still frozen branches, amazed at the blue blue sky and hoping that this truly was the last, that there will be spring, and soon.<br />
<br />
My daughter is struggling with something at school, which has impacted the way she sees everything around her. She's asked for help and been blown off twice by adults that ought to have taken her concerns seriously. Suffice to say, I can't *wait* for parent-teacher.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, the teenager has been recommended to go into 'fancy' math classes. I plan to ask him more about those tomorrow while I take him to go get new glass in his (three-week-old) new glasses. (Long story short: the teen was with a group of friends at a hockey game, someone rooting for the other team shoved one of his friends, Cass dove in to save his friend and.....forgot????.....he had glasses on. They sailed through the air, skittered under some seats and boom! Weren't crushed or broken but had some horrible scratches. You know the news is not good when the first thing you hear when you answer the phone is "Mom, I'm sorry") Thank god for Vogue Optical. Vogue definitely isn't the cheapest, but their repair or replace promotions have been a god-send the last few years.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is work, appointments, popcorn and movie night. This weekend is possibly a tea festival, definitely another hockey game, most likely some walks with the big camera and welcoming spring.<br />
<br />
Because jeez, after the last month, we all need it.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-68727655031757723662017-02-22T19:35:00.000-04:002017-02-22T19:35:04.217-04:00humpdayIt has been a long, hard, slog of a day.<br />
<br />
Work was the usual, with just a soupçon of extra crazy. Many phone calls today, many clients talked to. Manymanymany.<br />
<br />
My cat has a mysterious chunk of fur missing from the back of her neck. I suspect she and her brother have been wrestling again.<br />
<br />
I've started drinking more tea than coffee. Who am I??? I have always loved coffee. Tea, right now, just feels homier and more comforting. And since I was gifted a tea-monkey (it's a tea strainer shaped like a wee monkey and it's arms grip the sides of the cup!) I've been drinking loose tea.<br />
But tonight is all about a straight tea bag of lemon zinger in an old cup, pyjamas, and going to bed early.<br />
<br />
My brain, she is tired.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-1606139470438154252017-02-20T10:11:00.003-04:002017-02-20T10:11:46.354-04:00something smells like French ToastLolling in bed on the last day of a three-day-weekend, I have things to do but the bed! She whispers sweetly about naps and reading and no, I must be strong and GET UP, for I've things to do, work keys to find, and a walk to take. Catch you later.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-22630228850338836322017-02-19T17:55:00.000-04:002017-02-19T17:55:01.051-04:00Second verse, same as the firstHoly hell, is this thing on? (Taps mic)<br />
<br />
Well. In the latest round of The Song Remains The Same, I've left two jobs I very much liked and gone to one full time (full-time!!) gig that I....wow, it's hard to describe how I feel about it. It's a fast paced always-changing never-the-same-two-days-in-a-row job that I both love fiercely and loathe, but it comes with fantastic coworkers and (usually) leaves me feeling like I've done something productive and meaningful at the end of the day.<br />
<br />
Still two kids, one husband, a dog. But we've added a house rabbit.<br />
<br />
I've started cleaning and purging, which usually means Spring must be on its way. Given that last week we had huge snowdrifts after a blizzard wound its way over Nova Scotia, this may be wishful thinking.<br />
<br />
But I hope not.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-5058243783751848552015-11-04T20:06:00.001-04:002015-11-04T20:06:35.671-04:00Crowded houseThere are multitudes in my head tonight. I really have to start journaling or at least jotting things down, because the characters in my head are getting louder - and now they're all having conversations with each other, and things are getting muddled. That's never good.<div><br></div><div>I've been toying lately (or the idea has been toying with me, I'm not always sure who's leading who) with what makes me happy, and writing things down?? That makes the list, in spades.</div><div><br></div><div>So! Here I am. How've you been? That's a great colour on you.</div><div><br></div><div>Let's go on an adventure, shall we?</div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-70052923126190775002015-09-09T06:42:00.001-03:002015-09-09T06:42:51.213-03:00PlaceholderI have Got to start writing again in this space. I had a dream last night that I came here and it was gone -swept away like so much blog-dust. And that would be sad.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-42614846616082302212015-07-03T22:52:00.001-03:002015-07-03T22:52:41.453-03:00Wow, all the babies have grown up.<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAl8uGzlNQ0vpdohehbcVBnqQUe5h3nJR-LWA6AJf-OFUGdwbT3VG-3C4Sn-uj05WPKkCl-4i8aBqIKXzNia3FhQgJWou9xi4GZ6mnR6SUopMc4GnnIcrKORfwf8-acXAig4gQMg/s640/blogger-image-552528869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAl8uGzlNQ0vpdohehbcVBnqQUe5h3nJR-LWA6AJf-OFUGdwbT3VG-3C4Sn-uj05WPKkCl-4i8aBqIKXzNia3FhQgJWou9xi4GZ6mnR6SUopMc4GnnIcrKORfwf8-acXAig4gQMg/s640/blogger-image-552528869.jpg"></a></div>Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10716440.post-38319220782845769082013-09-22T11:01:00.000-03:002014-07-25T00:06:23.285-03:00Beneath the wavesPorter caught me to him as soon as the door closed behind her, and I went, shuddering, into his arms. "That was terrible, Katie. Are you okay?"<br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
I took a deep breath of his scent, searching my heart. Was I okay? Sad, yes. Heartbroken for how sorrowful my mother must have been. Chagrined by her life had gone from a cheerful, happy existence to a black and grey shroud of depression. But okay? "I think so."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"It's good to know that she didn't walk away from us." I told Porters shirt front. "And horr-" my voice broke, and I took a big gulp. "Horrible to know that she couldn't."</div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">He murmured something and brushed my lips with his. Dizzy, I tightened my grip around his neck and sighed.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br></span></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"What are you going to do about Maud?" </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"I don't know yet. I know things can never be the same between us. God, Grand Dad will never forgive her. No matter what happens between she and I, her life will never be the same."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"Will she tell him?"</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
He was really so, so kind. Did it make me a bad person that I wanted to lose myself in him and forget for a little while what had happened today? Tempted, I stared up at him and sighed.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
He caught my look and his lips twitched. "Later, Katie. Right now I think you might need a little diversion. Come with me." </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>Taking my hand, he led me out to the disreputable old truck. "We," he said, smiling a bit, "are going for a drive. There is to be no talk about what happened. We'll come home in a few hours and talk it to death, I promise. But not now. Right now we need fresh air and something else to think about."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Although I thought it was a crazy idea, I was charmed.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Porter kept it light and casual as he turned the truck toward the hills that fringed the area. He pointed out squirrels and cows in a field and kids with fishing poles, all heading home for their suppers. He patted Wood when the hound insisted on laying his head in Porters' lap. It wasnt hard to follow his cheery statements with nonsensical replies until a swell of misery overcame me and I stared into my lap, ignoring his banter. I thought I was hiding my big fat treacherous tears well, but he slowed and stopped on a hill and reached out to catch one on his fingertips.</div>
<div>
<br></div><div><br></div>
<div>
"Oh, Kate. I'm so sorry."</div><div><br></div><div>I was undone. </div><div><br></div><div>He tugged me closer, undoing my seat belt and folding me against his heart. I snuffled and snorted and wept against him until I reached a point where I felt marginally better, and then he kissed me long and deep and pulled me out of the truck to stand beside him.</div><div><br></div><div>"Look at the sky."</div><div><br></div><div>It was a fantastic display of pink and orange, shading down to grey. Here and there, tiny points of light showed through as the first stars peered out. In the valley below us, porchlights and streetlights were beginning to come on. It was a magical and comforting scene, and I sucked in a breath, sadness forgotten for a moment.</div><div><br></div><div>Porter took my hand, stroking my fingertips. "I know you're sad and sick and angry right now. But look, Katie. Look at the town, and look at the sky. Can't you feel your mother's peace? Look at the stars. She's with you, Katie. Every day. She always has been."</div><div><br></div><div>Looking out over the display, I felt something hiccup in my chest. Something creaked, like an old rusty door cracking open, and suddenly I knew...Porter was right.</div><div><br></div><div>Mama had never left me.</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>
<div>
The next day was hard. The family was all there, Grand Dad looking older and sadder than I had ever seen him. Ford hugged me for a long time, his usual smile gone, all bonhomnie absent.</div><div><br></div><div>I drank a lot of tea with Clay, and listened: to the birds, the bonging of the grandfather clock on the mantel, Maud's explanations interspersed with her noisy sobs, Wood's tail swishing across the floor, Grand-Dad's voice, sore with unbelieving and despair, ringing through the closed parlour door.</div><div><br></div><div>It was a long, turbulant day. At one point Grand-Dad asked me to take him down through the gardens to the riverside. I nodded and walked beside him, matching his heavy step. </div><div><br></div><div>He paused at the lower field, smiling wistfully at a grove of peach trees. "Your Mama," he said, "started those trees with pits from peaches she brought from my house. She said they were the sweetest things she'd ever tasted."</div><div><br></div><div>He sighed, lost in the past. "You have her eyes, Katie-girl. And her laugh. She was always laughing."</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>At the bank, he stopped just before the dock. "So. It was here, then."</div><div><br></div><div>I nodded over the lump in my throat, missing the memory of Mama but more touched and sad for my Grandfather's breaking heart. He looked greyer and tired beyond compare.</div><div><br></div><div>He stepped out and looked at the rushing water, lost in thought. When he spoke it was with a heavy cadence. </div><div><br></div><div>"Will you leave me for a bit? I need to think."</div><div><br></div><div>I nodded again, stretching up to kiss his cheek. 'I love you, Grand-Dad.'</div><div><br></div><div>I wandered through the gardens past the clump of peach trees, topped the rise, and saw my house. I was taken aback suddenly by how much I loved this place. Everything -<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">the curtains, the trees, the windows, the way the porch beckoned, the gingerbread of the house itself - created a picture that made me heart swell in my chest. This.....this was home now.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">What would happen now? The summer was almost over. My life in Rowland waited. The house was finished - would Grand-Dad sell it now? It held no ghosts for me, but how could he bear to know that his daughter had died there near the spot his granddaughter was having her morning coffee?</font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">And what about Porter? Did the summers' end spell the end of us?</font></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><br></div>
Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17308665452575511461noreply@blogger.com2