Been Busy

Hi  Everyone,

I have not forgotten that I maintain a blog. I have been busy with all sorts of  great things. I have been writing a lot and am very happy about that. I'll be back soon I  promise, stay tuned! One of these days I  may be organized enough to   write posts in advance...but for now, please be patient.
Za

My Lovely New Agenda

This morning I accidentally  started my day an hour early. I woke up at 3:50 thinking it was 4:50 and got up. I found my workout clothes in the dark (strategically placed the night before), made my way to the kitchen, fed the cat, got the coffee underway and headed to the basement to workout. I am off to a great start in 2012 I think to myself.
Now, with all my morning preparations done I have an hour to spare and feel I  should utilize it wisely.
The start of a new year, a contemplative time. Rose Vaughan is on the radio singing Stone, Sand, Sea and Sky. She has such a beautiful, contemplative voice. 
I'm listening to that woman who hosts Halifax's CBC radio early morning program. Gawd, I should know her name. Right, Louise Renault, That's her name. She has a great radio voice for this time of day. Listening to her first thing in the morning is great. She has such a soothing gentle "time to get up soon" voice. She's on for 20 minutes or so before our local program kicks in and things take a brisk turn towards a "GET UP NOW!" kind of voice.

Yup...The frenzy of the season (whatever this means to you) has passed and now we look forward... Most of us thinking about goals and objectives for a minute.
Some of mine that I would like to share:
*USE MY  LOVELY NEW AGENDA (SEE ABOVE PIC)
*MANUSCRIPT ( PUT ONE TOGETHER)
*REMEMBER BIRTHDAYS
*DON'T PROCRASTINATE SO MUCH
*ENJOY WINTER
*WORK TOWARDS DOING A CARTWHEEL AT SOME POINT IN THE NEXT 7 YEARS (BEFORE 50)_
*BLOG MORE
* MAKE MORE SOUP
*WEAR RED TIGHTS AT SOME POINT
*DECREASE THE SIZE OF MY PANTS.
*ORGANIZE MY FILING CABINET
*THROW OUT THE ODD SOCKS
*MORE YOGA PRACTICE
*MORE CONTACT WITH FAMILY
*MAKE A TOFU CHEESE CAKE
*IF SOMEONE IS IMPORTANT TO ME i WILL LET THEM KNOW
*SING MORE, DANCE MORE
Well, guess that's enough for now. These seem doable. 
I love the freshness of a new year, like the first page of a  new journal.

Yuletide tale #2

As I  sit here this quiet morning, still dark outside, candles lit, listening to my favorite early morning radio, contemplating hauling the decorations from the basement, where to place the tree (waiting on the deck), how to decorate, glancing occasionally at my neighbor's house directly across the street. He leaves one Christmas light on in each window all night, part of me wonders about all this fuss, while another part of me enjoys the feeling of Christmas for so many reasons. 

Oh come all ye Faithful in bag pipes on my radio show now. I feel all emotional...the pipes get me every time, no matter what the season or the song. The house smells great. Before I sat this morning I made some orange spice muffins. Now a medley of Anne Murray Christmas tunes. Gawd, I need to avoid writing during PMS stage!  There is a beautiful fox peacefully resting on our lawn. The cat is mesmerized by the still fox. He's been there a while now. I note he has injured his back right leg. He is limping when he first moves...but then he runs away. I want to help him, but know I can't. He is quite capable of helping himself.  This has nothing to  do with anything Christmassy but is is a part of my moment so I  thought I'd throw it in. My coffee is  delightful...warmimg.Yes, this is what I like about Christmas...warm feelings...fond memories.

Really I am not sure about the whole virgin birth Jesus Christ thing, though I know this story brings people hope and well, as a story, what a best seller.

I've spent  a good bit of time trying to "celebrate" this time of year in a way that I feel good about.  I've tended to move away from Jesus and Santa and more towards  snow figures and Solstice. It's hard though you know because, well my own experiences at this time of the year revolve around those two so I can't write them off altogether. 

pause...sigh

My earliest memory of Christmas involves my mother convincing me that she and my cousin had just seen Santa and his reindeer flying through the sky and then landing on the house next door as they sat in the window watching the snow fall, playing cards and sucking back a Rothmans. All such a comfort as the wood stove in the kitchen warmed us up and baked our bread. This was her way of getting me to bed I guess...She had me so convinced of it that I actually saw them myself. They were real at that moment and it was magic and wonderful. It helped my mother's case that the announcer on VOCM radio was saying that there had just been a sighting of Santa and his reindeer in the St. John's area. I was a bit freaked out, took this all very seriously, ran up the old stairs and jumped right into bed beside my big brother and tried to force myself to fall asleep before him.

I have no memory of the next morning so unfortunately I have to end that part of the story here but lets assume Santa did arrive and I did have a present the next morning. I even had heard the thump when he landed on our roof & fell through the chimney. I still believe I saw Santa and his reindeer that night...I did, real or imagined...I saw them and I will always have my mother to thank for that magical moment whatever her motives might have been. This one my one and only sighting of Santa. I was probably five years old but it seems like yesterday. I remember it as if it was real. My mother was quite skilled in making imagined things become real.

Years later When I was nine I found two garbage bags in my parent's closet, both full of toys and Christmas things which I immediately knew were for me, my brother and my new little sister. I knew they were from Santa. At that moment I knew that Santa must not be real, but I carefully placed the bags back in the exact position I found them just in case Santa had just stored them there because he might run out of space or something. I knew not to mention this and although inside I knew it was all a lie, I carried on the next day pretending to believe.

After all, that was the year I received Hugo Man of A thousand Faces, a Makin Faces clown make up kit and a gigantic colouring book almost as big as me, so even if Santa did not exist...well, I still believed in him. Nobody ever told me Santa was not real. I just knew. It was still like magic to me though, I went to bed crayonless, I woke up to find 64 brand new fresh Crayola crayons to compliment my new colouring book.And ya know, even though I know of course that Santa is not real ...every Christmas morning of my life I have been lucky enough to wake up to an experience similar to my new 64 Crayolas (with insert sharpener i might add). The Jesus thing, well...that's another post for sure. 


Well, the day is about to start so I must gather  the decorations from the basement, and and with each ornament i place on my tree I place also A STORY. The sun is shining. It will be a good day. I have two gatherings with good friends. I am blessed.

RETREAT...BE BACK SOON.

Award from another blogger.

Nice. Thank you, I accept.

From: http://astorybookworld.blogspot.com/p/about-deirdra.html

Like Piles, Reflections on Halloween Night

I know, I know Halloween is gone, it's 6 days later...but thought I post this  anyway since i started it Halloween night...and maybe it's about more than Halloween.

It's cool outside, but not so cool that you couldn't go for a walk with just a sweater and some thin gloves. Some of the leaves have fallen off the trees, enough to scrunch under your feet, while others hold on tight.  It's been that type of day where you can feel the coolness in your nostrils outside, the type of day that when you come inside, the comforting heat hits you and you know it's gonna be a good night.

The steps in our neighborhood are dotted with jack-o-lanterns carved in elaborate patterns. "Doesn't anyone just do the triangles anymore?" said a co-worker in the staff room during a break today. It got me laughing and thinking about how simple things used to be.  


I am sitting in my living room in total darkness aside from the light  from my computer screen. There's a couple of candles in the big living room window, and a jack-o-lantern with a tea candle inside it's body. We put some  clear Christmas lights on the front step to make the place seem inviting, yet dark enough to be slightly scary to the little ghouls and goblins in search of tricks or treats.  So far we have had 7 kids.  I can only remember a giraffe, two pirates, a train, (perhaps the little engine that could (?), and a princess. All the costumes were bought it seemed, that's what they do these days. Guess that's the new fun way and perhaps some day someone like me will blog about fond memories of shopping at WalMArt for the perfect costume, or remember that weird lady with the orange scarf on her head, the one with the black cat in her arms who lived in the scary dark house with candles in the window, the one that the gave them three really good treats.


Only one kid said "trick or treat", the tiny giraffe who also wanted to ring the doorbell because that is what she was told to do.The rest just held their bags open...but that's not their faults because when they held their bags open I added treats!  Most said thank you. A pirate asked if he could have two choc bars. At least he asked.


This is one of my favorite nights of the year, but not because I like getting dressed up, although that's fun too. And I don't think it's because it is the eve of my birthday. But there is something comforting about this night. For me it marks the beginning of winter. 

I have fond memories of Halloween. Maybe it's as simple as I  left my house with an empty bag and came home with a big bag of treats all ready for the eating. I  didn't gobble all mine up at once though. I savored them. First, I  would empty the mysterious contents of my Dominion bag onto the floor, (Back then nobody frowned on the use of plastic supermarket bags). Then I would slowly and with such sweet anticipation arrange all the same things in one pile. Chips first (you mostly only got two kinds, the Hostess ones in the  blue foil bag or the cheap oily ones in the white, thin unmarked plastic bag) then, hard cheezies, soft cheezies, and all chocolate bars together (to be later separated into "exactly the same" pile). There were always lots of  rocket candies, gum, Tootsie rolls, and suckers of all colours. (these of course to be separated by colour and eaten in order of taste preference, all yellow ones to be given away) You might get some life savers, a package of four, but that was as exotic as it got, and yes, we got apples and oranges which were likely fine and that we actually were allowed to eat but were too afraid to because of all the stories about razor blades hidden in them.  That seemed about it back in those days, but what treats they were.

One very memorable year I  got a full can of RC COLA, and a full size CRUNCH bar from the Downey's who owned a store and lived across the street from us. I was certain the Gods had bestowed upon me a great gift for my good behavior in taking my little sister around with me. Another year I went out taking two bags with me because my big brother was sick. I remember saying, "trick or treat" twice every time and then explaining that my brother was home sick. It was true, but now that I think of it could have really used that one.


Yes, as I sit here in this room feeling all nostalgic, waiting for little trick or treaters, to ring my doorbell I resist the urge to go get dressed up myself, and instead I just organize the really good treats I'm giving out into like piles ready for the taking, and I remember.

MINE TO CELEBRATE

Recently I was working out in the basement...early morning, treadmill 5:15 am. Generally during this time I'm only half awake as I mechanically get my legs moving in a walking/running motion. To help me through the process I turn the TV on. Early morning CBC is series of repeats from the previous night's programming, so I just kind of half listen to news shows and sorta watch as Chris and Steve give design advice, make interesting cocktails and review some new gadgets. One particular morning suddenly I heard Mr. Dress Up's voice. (For those who do not know. Mr. Dress up  was a popular Canadian kids show from 1967 to 1996.) Well, it was as if someone has resurrected someone from the dead, a familiar someone. Someone at CBC had changed a file in the vast archives of my brain from "childhood memories, vague & irrelevant" to "childhood memories, vivid and significant".


As part of the 75th anniversary celebrations CBC has been airing quick flicks of old shows. There they were on the screen several pairs of forty somethings, happily resting toddlers on their hips, talking about how Mr. Dress Up influenced them as parents and as people. As they spoke they flashed to various episodes. I cried a bit at the sights and sounds of Mr. Dress up drawing with a marker on his easel. Then I got to wondering, "Really Za, what the heck?" They end each flashback segment with that very distinct CBC sound,  followed by a voice over, "CBC, yours to Celebrate", then I got to  pondering how much a part of my life CBC has been. I determined that it has been a very important part of who I have become. Not just Mr. Dress Up though, but others like the Friendly Giant.


Every morning at 10:15 I would hear the theme song to the Friendly Giant, something so inviting about the softness of the harp and the flute. For some reason I can't explain, I happen to know the lyrics  to this song and so in my moment of reflection, my 42 year old self sang it ...out loud, alone in my basement  at 5:30 AM while I walked, keeping my hips in rhythm before they ceased up.


"Early one morning before the sun had risen, I saw a bright star in fields gayley singing, Bluebirds were singing, south winds were blowing."   ETC...


Such a pretty song. God, I thought to myself, I must have PMS. I continued to ponder. As a child I wanted to be David Suzuki. I loved how he spent time with nature, explained things. I learned so much from him. I think he is the  reason that every now and then I can't resist the urge to get "natural" in nature. Who knows? I loved watching the CBCevening news with my father, even though I  could have cared less about what was happening in the world. Still today, I  go to bed every night with  Peter Mansbridge. What ever shall I ever do when he retires? And something about the CBC logo, I  don't know, such a part of me, both radio and TV.

For me, a long road trip would not be the same without the comforting companionship of my CBC radio. It doesn't matter what's on there. On a recent trip through  the mountains in BC, feeling isolated and far from other people I rounded a corner and saw an official road sign indicating where to find CBC radio on the dial and suddenly I  did not feel so alone.


Many years ago at an interview for a job at the Steak and Stein the interviewer asked me what I might like to do given the choice of anything. The young me said I  would like to work at CBC radio. I  didn't get the Steak and Stein job--thankfully, but isn't retrospect is a wonderful thing? That would have been the day to  go home, sit and fill out my application for a journalism program, but no, instead that same week I accepted a job at a pharmacy. Oh dear, getting side tracked again. 
My point is that CBC is a huge and very important part of  me and and who I  have become.  It is like a family member. The characters from my past like pseudo grandparents or something. Between the two of them in particular (Mr. D and Friendly G) my imagination was stimulated daily. I learned to create, sing, share, put my toys away, be kind, put my crayons back in the package, ask older people for advice, (remember Wise Old Owl), respect difference, love animals and perhaps most importantly ,that I as a little person, had value. Well thanks so much CBC!


On September 17th, 2001 I wrote in my  journal, "AM: Mr. Dress up had a stroke. PM:Mr. Dress up died."
I remember taking the time on my break at work (at the pharmacy) to jot this important info down.
I Did the same with the  Friendly Giant  on May 15th, 2000 "Pretty cold outside today...Friendly Giant died."
Who knew I'd be writing about it all so many years later. (Maybe I did.) I heard both announcements onCBC Radio and I remember the brief but sad feeling that came over me.

Often people mock me for listening to  my CBC radio, stating how they can't stand all the talk. I  have to wonder the same about their choice to listen to private radio with all the noisy ads. I  wouldn't trade it for anything. It continues to be a big part of my adult life. Ponder. Express gratitude

Hmmm...
An earwig just crawled across my keyboard. Not sure from where he came. I just watched his frantic movements. He is in such a hurry. Creepy, but no need to  kill him really. A good distraction. South Winds are blowing today...

Time to  go, grab my ipod nano, tune into CBC and take the dogs for a walk on this beautiful warm windy day, before Mother Nature has a mood swing.