1st World Problems

Are you a work-in-silence person? Or a background noise person? I am a something in the background person.  Usually, it's music, but podcasts come in as a close second. My favorite podcasts are from the true crime genre.  I stumbled across one the other day that brought back a flood of memories. In 1991, mom and I lived in Richmond, BC. I was in grade six at WD Ferris elementary. Richmond is a suburb of Vancouver, and technically the YVR (Vancouver) airport is located in Richmond. I loved Richmond. It was close to the ocean, I could walk to school, and I made friends that lived on my block.  Like many other towns, there were local ghost stories and houses that kids told other kids to avoid. The network of kids is always full of information. Not always fully accurate, but there is a whisper of truth. Not far away from where we lived, and even closer to the 7/11 where we would go to get Slurpees, was the Cindy James house. Cindy James was a nurse who met a tragic end. When ...

 What was your comfort item as a child? Or did you even have one? If you have read this blog a few times, I am sure you can guess which side of the page I fall on here. Before I was born a few pieces of flannel were sewn together to make a small blanket. Believe it or not, I still have it, sort of. Maybe the spirit of it would be a better description. Perhaps I should explain.  I will turn 43 this year, and I still sleep with this blanket. It has been recovered, envelope style many times. It is lumpy now, probably due to the layers of flannel within that are breaking down from a combination of love and sleeping on. I doubt that the original flannel is actually still in there in any recognizable form. It has probably long deteriorated, or it could just be a collection of a few strings caught up with other layers of flannel. I don't carry the blanket everywhere I go, and the outer layers are in pretty good shape. It's soft and surprisingly hefty. For the most part, I use it in t...

 Who else remembers Canadian Heritage minutes? And the shorts between movies on the movie and on public television? I was listening to music this morning and a song came on that sent me all the way back to childhood. Who else loves " The Log Driver's Waltz "? I have memories of watching tv after school and waiting for something to end just so I could see the shirt cartoon.  I loved how it started with archival footage and then when to the simply drawn cartoon . At any given moment, even now, I can sing this song. From beginning to end (with a few mumbled lyrics in the middle if I forget a few words), I think almost all Canadians my age can do the same thing. Then there are the Canadian Heritage minutes. There is a large swath of us that still makes jokes about the smell of burnt toast. Beyond the camp of teaching history through one-minute vignettes, they were shockingly effective. Through them, I learned about Jennie Trout, how the Winnie the Pooh got his name, and that ...

 From the time our daughter was very young, we have (for the most part) let her make her own decisions.  This has led to a few different outcomes.  1. Very interesting outfits 2. A good sense of who she is 3. The occasional super stubborn streak. This may be more genetic-based than as a result of decision-making For the most part, she chooses what we would have for her, and I think that she is more confident because of it.  Then there are the other times. The times when she is incapable of making even the simplest decision. When she can't tell me where she wants to eat or go.  Right now she is on the precipice between junior high and high school. And with that change comes some serious choices that will impact the rest of her life. We have had her enrolled in a second language program since she was in kindergarten. We thought that she would be going all the way through school in that program just like her brother did. Then another plan was made by someone, I'm n...

I don't really know what to talk about today. So I guess I will freestyle it.  It feels like we are on a precipice. The choices we make now will dictate the actions of many in the future.  Remember when you were a kid and started to notice the correlation between action and consequence? When you started to learn that maybe you shouldn't do that thing because it won't end well? The internet has a new term for it, f*** around and find out. I love it. I substitute the first word because swears. But the message is really there. It feels like there are a bunch of people right now that have forgotten how things go when you forget the difference between liberty and freedom. Liberty is when you have the freedom to participate in actions that are considered socially acceptable. The things we all do as a society to keep each other safe and happy. Some people have decided that freedom means that they get to do whatever they want whenever they want to. They don't care about other p...

Comfort food, by definition, brings comfort.  I mean, there it all is in the description. I like to ask people about their favorite comfort foods. Not because I need to hear people talk about food. But, because generally when they are telling me about their favourite foods, they tell me another story about themselves. My comfort food from my mom is her Cesar salad dressing. It's made in an old-fashioned way. Oil, anchovies, egg yolk, and the rest. For me, it is more about watching her make it, and the freedom that she gives herself to relax while she's making it. It's darn tasty, too. With my Aunt (my dad's oldest sister) it is her funeral potatoes (also called hashbrown casserole). I have always loved to eat it, and it meant that I was back on my home turf with her.  My other aunt (my dad's older brother's wife) is rice. Just plain white rice with butter and salt. Not that she couldn't cook. She can, quite well actually. The rice was more about being my par...

Sometimes when I talk, my mother comes out.  I don't know when I first heard that quote, but as I get older it becomes more and more true. It could be a turn of phrase or a certain cadence of speaking. My kids are the usual recipients of most of my "mom-speak". Through many circumstances, I grew up mostly on my own. My mom worked hard to provide for us and that meant she didn't spend as much time with me as either one of us would have wanted. She wasn't mothered either, her mom passed when she was 12. So, it is always funny to me when I hear her reflected in whatever it is I am saying. As I get older, and I reflect more on myself and my family's history it strikes me that these echoes from my mom may not be just from her. She may have picked them up from the mother she lost too soon, or from the other women that helped to raise her before and after the loss. Maybe they come from my mom's grandmother who would yell at her in French, English, and  Mi'kma...

Oh, my word! It's almost Halloween! I freaking love Halloween. The costumes, the candy, the spooky stories. For a poor kid, Halloween was the apex of holidays. There is free candy and food everywhere. It makes me think of some of my favourite (non-scary) personal Halloween stories.  One of the times I lived in BC, I think it was Vernon, the whole complex we lived in threw a giant Halloween Potluck. Everyone was dressed up even the adults and no one paid a lot of attention to a kid that was alone grabbing food. There were no questions about where my mom was.  When I was a little older (maybe nine) a teenager stole my giant pillowcase full of candy. I went home sobbing and was surprised to find my uncle and his friends hanging out at my house. I told them about all the work I had done to prepare two homemade costumes so I could get twice the candy, and how heavy the bag was. My uncle's friends all lived in the neighbourhood, and his one friend Greg asked for a description. All s...

I think we are all guilty of making plans for our kids. Or have a direction we think that their lives are going to go.  My son has always been a great kid. He is helpful, empathetic, and funny. Teachers and old people love him. When I thought about his future I pictured him as a teacher, or a nurse specializing in either geriatrics or pediatrics. I knew he was never going to be a doctor. Medical TV shoes make him uncomfortable from time to time. But definitely a helper profession. As he grew though and started to think about his future his bent was more towards mechanics. Turns out he is a gear head and he can fix just about anything. When it came time to pick his postsecondary plans he surprised us all by signing up for avionics instead of diesel mechanics. He isn't having a good time though. Turns out the wiring part doesn't match his vision of what he wants to do for the rest of his life. At the beginning of this program, we were discussing options that he would have by choo...

The house my mom grew up in. My mom was 12 when her mother died. Besides my mom (who is the eldest) she also left seven other little girls and a nine-month-old baby boy, and my grandfather. My mom went from as normal a life as you could have with that many kids in the family in a very small town, to the main caretaker for the family. My uncle was sent to live with family members nearby and my grandfather had what equated to a mental breakdown. He still worked as he could, but everything else was left to my mom. Fast forward ten years and I come along.  I was raised by a single mom after my parents broke up when I was very young. I was the very definition of a latch-key kid. From the time I was in kindergarten forward, I got myself to and from school every day. That included all the personal grooming and homework. I don't remember a time when it wasn't clear to me that I needed to be an easy kid for my mom. She had enough to worry about. Not saying I was perfect. Far from it. Bu...

One of my favorite things is driving around with the windows down, music on loud, and singing my heart out. Thanks to having the summer mostly off I have discovered that my daughter enjoys that same ritual. She even made a playlist so all the songs would be in one place. No more searching. As we were coming home from practice last night, indulging in what could be one of the last warm nights of the year I wondered to myself if she was going to remember our sing-alongs. When I was young (I know, I know. I have a bend towards nostalgia) summers were mostly spent with either my aunt and her family or with my grandmother. When I was with my aunt, uncle, and two cousins, we usually were camping or visiting some of their friends somewhere. Or just causing trouble in the backyard, which included at least one trip to the ER).  It was pretty standard summer vacation fun. With my grandmother though it was different.  My Grandmother (Nannie is what I actually call her) lived with me and ...