January 1, 2018

I am excited about the New Year. 

I don't want to be cynical and criticize
those who make promises to themselves

that they will likely never keep. 

I think that whether you are 

trying to change

or be better

or be more of one thing

and less of something else

There's nothing wrong with embracing a time

that is (or could be) 

of renewal.

There is something energizing about looking back

but moreso about looking forward. 

My 2017 had it's ups and downs

but I feel like there were more ups than downs.


We went camping this summer and fell in love with it.
We did a road trip home to the east coast
and discovered new places we are determined to return to.

We went to Cozumel for the first time and loved it.
We hosted two of my brothers
and their families for Thanksgiving
- my first time preparing a sit down meal for my family -
and it was a success.

I felt as though I had some big changes in my inner life too -
I started yoga in November 2016 and I am still with it.
It has helped me see the good in people.
Kindness.
It calms me and helps me believe in others as well as myself
but it has also made me stronger.

I have been in therapy for about the same time.
I was lucky to meet someone at a critical time.
She has helped open me up and create more space
- to breathe, to live more how I want to.
I am so changed by that.
It was hard, still is sometimes,
but I am so, so much better.
It was worth it.

My health was not great this year.
I had months of discomfort and pain.
I was finally diagnosed with seronegative arthritis in December.
It's frustrating and painful
but I've learned (am still learning)
to live with it and work around it
and I'm relieved that it wasn't something more serious.

I read 48 books this year.

I tried to slow down and do one thing at a time.
Sometimes I can do that
and sometimes I still can't.


Perhaps the most important part of this past year
is that I feel closer now
to knowing who I really am


and to being ok with it.
Really, truly ok.


Imagine that.

I'll be 47 in 30 days.
It's about time.

Women's March - January

Sunsets

Spring

Easter weekend = Kitchen makeover

New cabinets, new counters, new lease on life!

(there were still a few details to complete 

when I took these photos. 

I really need to take some more...)

Summer 

Camping discoveries

(including the discovery of camping itself)

& Canada 150 celebrations

Trip home to the east coast

Hopewell Rocks, New Brunswick

Cape George, Nova Scotia

Sunsets over the Northumberland Strait

I have a 15 minute walk to the subway from my house.

I started trying to take the time to stop and look around on my way. 

To notice things. 

I post them on Instagram

#whatIsawtoday

I've seen some special, beautiful things.

Chester, Coco and Sugar keep us afloat many days.

How could they not?

Fall

My decorations turned out great this year.

This year's pumpkin was an award winner.

December

Baking adventures

First time making gingerbread people...

 cookie gifts in beautiful packaging

Lots of snow (and cold)

So here's to a new year and all that it holds in store.
Hopefully there is more of the good things
and the strength and love of those around us

to cope with the rest.

Happy New Year!

what I saw today ~ October 10 edition

On the subway....

I did not take this photo but I cannot find the link to it.

• a large, burly, bearded hipster with tusks in his ears and a kitty on his toque, sleeping.

• A determined-looking woman making notes in a small coil-bound notebook from the book on her lap entitled: Commanding Your Morning by Cindy Trimm

• A concerned-looking woman making copious stars and underlines in a pregnancy book. (Section on SIDS was heavily notated, as was the page on types of car seats.)

To clarify, I was neither staring nor creeping on these people. They were sitting directly in front of me and I couldn't help but notice.

simple is best

When I scroll through Pinterest and Instagram,
it seems as though the most pinned or popular photos are those that depict simple, clean, quiet, moments.

Cotton, gentle light, wood, a white cup of steaming coffee, books, home baked goods = peace.

I realize these photos are staged but that doesn't mean I don't think it's possible.
If you look closely, a lot of the elements of these scenes are very expensive - the houses are expertly renovated and can be found situated closely to wooded or ravine areas (that aren't scary or horror movie-like). Or acreages. With land.
The rooms are spacious and simply furnished.
There is no clutter or disturbance.
The sweaters are cashmere.
The expressions, peaceful.

the pots are copper

there's lots of white.

but that's not reality. 

We all know it but still we strive for - what exactly? Perfection?

Peace?

Sometimes I get really freaked out by how much stuff we have. 

By how much I have.

By the clutter and dust.
By the cat fur.

I don't think I can curate my life to look like these photos.

But simplicity is something I've been thinking a lot about as we transition into the fall - one of my favourite seasons for it's sensory experiences. The cool air, the smell of wood burning. Apples. leaves crunching. It's all so satisfying.
But usually with the change of season comes new trends and looks and the urging to buy buy buy so you look the part.
I've done that.
I've even been tempted to do it again. Recently.

But here's the thing - buying all of those things doesn't make me feel better (well, maybe briefly). It doesn't make me better or more interesting.
And I've realized that consumption is a big thing for me.
Food.
Things.

I know I'm not unique with this.
I'm Canadian. We do this a lot.

But I've realized that I don't want to anymore.
I want to slow it down. Do one thing at a time.

Don't pick up the phone first thing in the morning.
Take the time to scratch my kitty's ears.
Look out the window.
Read.


Keep it simple.

Because at the end of the day, how much of the race do we remember if we don't stop to take it all in.
To look around and actually see.
And even, maybe, find a little peace.

Books Read Recently

I've been a bit...absent from the blog these past months but I'm hoping I can start it up again and keep it going.

Let's get reacquainted by starting with one of my favourite things - books.

My library card expired in January and I haven't yet had it renewed. 

I was reading everything on my e-reader and I found myself missing paper. 

I wanted to hold the concrete, solid form in my hands to feel as though I was getting through it. Actually accomplishing something. 

(It's nonsense, really. Kind of like how I set a reading challenge for myself every year through Goodreads. 

Why do I bother? 

It's not like I need to "get back into reading" since I haven't had a reading lapse, oh, ever. 

And yet - 50 book goal in 2016! (sigh.)

Regardless, I was enjoying reading printed books again, but for at least one I had to start a second book because the one I was reading was too big to carry on my commute to work (I'm looking at you Goldfinch!) 

I don't usually read more than one book at a time as I find it hard to keep the stories straight but this time I really had no choice so I was able to do it.

I've enjoyed them all for the most part with a hiccup here and there.

1. The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

It took me a long time to get through this one because, well, it's huge. But I thought it was great. As mentioned above, I couldn't carry it to/fro work so it did take longer than usual but it's such a good story. I was invested in the characters and I didn't know what was going to happen. I bought this book back in December thinking I'd read it over the holidays but the sheer size of it made starting daunting. I'm glad I finally did. Did it deserve the Pulitzer? I can't say. But it was one of the best books I've read this year.

My rating:

★★★★

2. I'm Thinking of Ending Things - Iain Reid

There has been a lot of hype about this one. My fella picked it up second hand since we'd heard about it on the radio and our interest was piqued. I'd just finished reading The Goldfinch and I needed a break from "epic" stories.  I read this entire book in one day and found it to be a tense, what's-going-to-happen, nail-biter but when I got to the end my first thought was huh? Did I miss something? I went back and read a few pages again but it didn't help. I looked at some of the reviews on Goodreads and some of those readers said the same thing. I don't want to say it wasn't good, I think I just maybe didn't get it? I almost wanted to go back and start over to see what I missed in my race to the finish, but then I realized I didn't care that much. I'd give it a solid meh.

My rating:

★★★

(I'm giving it three stars because it was good enough to keep me reading for an entire Sunday. That's got to get some credit.)

3. Girl Through Glass - Sari Wilson

I was in the bookstore buying a gift and they had a deal on that if you bought 3 books you got one free so I knew I couldn't leave without taking advantage of that. I don't know about you, but my mind often goes blank in the bookstore - I have 150 "to-reads" listed on Goodreads but in a pinch I can't remember a single one. 

I had pinned an article of "must reads" for 2016 and this one was in the list.  It stood out because it's a book about ballet. I love books about ballet. When I was little I wanted to be a ballerina when I grew up (excessive height and flat feet notwithstanding) so I was interested. But really, I'm not sure that it was "about ballet." 

The main character was a ballet dancer and she teaches the history of dance at a college somewhere as an adult. I waited for it to get better but I started thinking that maybe the person who wrote the "must reads" list was getting some kind of kickback to include it because really - it just wasn't very good. The main character is kind of loathsome and unlikable and I didn't find myself rooting for anything for her but therapy. Not even the ballet parts were very good. Harumph.

My rating:

★

(harsh, I know. I felt cheated.)

4. A Little Life - Hanya Yanagihara

This was the 4th book I bought at the aforementioned sale. When I read reviews of the Iain Reid book, one reviewer said that it was totally overrated and if you wanted to read the other most overrated book of the year, pick up "A Little Life."

And so that brings us here. Another long one that took ages to get through. But as with "The Goldfinch", I loved the story. The character of Jude is heartbreaking and the dedication of his friends and loved ones, is, well, bottomless. This book wasn't what I think of as a "hard read" or overly complicated but I did find it slow at times. (Except for that one section where I started reading in bed around 11 and just couldn't put it down until I'd finished that section and when I finally shut the light it was 12:30. Ugh!)

My one criticism of it was the over-usage of names.

Example: "Jude - what did you think you were doing Jude? Why, Jude, did you think that was necessary? I don't understand you, Jude." (I totally made up those sentences. None of them were in the book.) Did the author love the name Jude? It suits the character really well but the main theme of the story is the depth of the relationships that these people have with each other and, specifically, with Jude. It was just too much and got on my nerves. Other than that - loved it.

My rating: 

★ ★ ★ ★

5. Espedair Street - Iain Banks

Fella fell in love with Iain Banks within the past couple of years. This was one of the ones he kept encouraging me to read and I'm glad he did. I don't think I loved it as much as he did, but I did enjoy the story and thought the quality of his writing was excellent. This one is the story of a successful rock star who has lost his way and is thinking of ending his life. It goes back and forth between how he got started and where he is in his current life and how he's become what he now is. 

Enjoyed it. Wouldn't rush to read other Banks books, but there are a couple that Fella endorses so I might give them a spin.

My rating:

★ ★ ★

Those are the books that bedazzled (or not) in recent weeks. I'll be back soon with the next round!

my father's ring

I was always tall for my age as a kid and I'm taller than average as an adult.

I came by it honestly.

My father was 6'4".

He came from a family of tall men. 

I like to think that I inherited his hands as well as his height. 

On my last birthday, I spoke on the phone with my oldest sister.

I told her that I'd looked at my baby book because I didn't know what time I had been born. 

She remembers coming to see me in the hospital.

My mother was kept in for a week. 

Not because she was ill,

but because she already had 6 children and her doctor knew she needed a rest. 

My sister said that I was an average weight

but that I had really long fingers.

That I would someday be a piano player. 

(not destined to be. I'm a terrible piano player, alas.)

My father wasn't a big jewelry person. 

He always wore a watch

and his wedding ring.

My mother was the same, and while she did wear other jewellry, 

 her wedding ring never left her finger.

I remember when she was going in for surgeries, 

they would wrap tape around her finger 

because she refused to remove it. 

This is one of many amazing things 

I learned about my mother

that I'm not sure I ever would have had the chance to know

if she hadn't had cancer.

Go figure.

But this is about my dad.

I'm pretty sure he always wore his ring too.

My parents took their partnership seriously. 

Last year, my family went through the unenviable task 

of dividing up my parents' belongings. 

Whatever was left after a long drawn-out battle.

Because there are 7 of us, we had to essentially draw straws on the more coveted items.

Like my parents' wedding rings. 

I'll get to the point. 

I got the rings.

They, and everything else I got, 

went into the basement when we got home.
Packed in the boxes I received them in.

The divvying up process had been painful.

When I lost my dad, 

it felt like I was losing my mother
for a second time. 

The grief was so familiar

but so different at the same time. 

It all came back after 22 years
in startling clarity. 

A month or so ago, I was in a particular mood. 

I don't know what came over me

but I wanted to look in the boxes. 

I was ready to take a few items out.

The rings are in small white plastic cases.
No boxes, or velvet.
No blue.
Just - sleeves, almost.
Envelopes. 

Mum's ring fits the first joint of my ring finger on my left hand 

(are everyone's hands different sizes or is it just me?)
And that's as far as it will go.

Dad's is a bit big,

but it fits.

It was dull. 

He stopped wearing it years ago.

Mum died in 1991 and he had two serious relationships 

in the years that followed

so it make sense that he wouldn't consider himself married anymore

(although I'm pretty sure she was always the love of his life. 40 years married, so.)

Fella looked at the inscription on the inside of the band - 10 carat gold.

It will shine up as you wear it, he said.

I was nervous about wearing it.

Should I take it off when I wash my hands?

When I do anything?

And then I thought -

Dad did everything with that ring on.

Nothing I do is going to bring it harm.

And wearing it?
Felt kind of

wonderful.

Right.

Special.

It's been, as I said, a few weeks.
And I wear it every day.

It makes them feel closer to me.
Even though they are so very far away.
And I think that they may even like
that I'm wearing his ring.

And that it continues on
with the same love
with which it was bought
sixty-four years ago.

just one thing

Sometime in November
I realized that multitasking 

is an epic failure.

I admit to being a person who prided themselves on being able to do many things at once.

But back then I didn't have as much responsibility as I do now 

(It's my job that I'm talking about mostly, really.
I suppose I do at home too but the stakes aren't as high
when you're trying to do laundry,
feed the kitties,
and play Boom Beach.)

So I decided to try to do one thing at a time (at work). 

I shut off email notifications.

I cleared my desk except for the item that I'm working on.

I closed my door and ignored it when people knocked.

All of these things seem so simple. 

Straightforward.

But I quickly discovered how hard it is. 

I say that I started doing all of these things

but we are so used to being in five places at once

and being online in five more

and feeling that doing all that makes us better somehow.

So I found that after I cleared my mind and desk 

so I could concentrate - 

 I couldn't.

I started looking for distractions.

I got out my phone.

I looked out the window. 

I stared.

It's hard to stop.

I went back to work last week and didn't do any of those things I listed above.
I felt totally overwhelmed. Like I couldn't even make a to-do list.
(I couldn't make a to-do list.)

But I haven't given up on it entirely.
It's a work in progress.
See, I felt like I wasn't really doing anything well
and that the more I tried to do,
the less I got done.

So now
(sometimes)
I
stop.

Even now as I write this I'm drinking a cup of hot apple cider
and listening to Sigur Ros.
And admittedly, I had my journal out earlier
and started writing in it too.

I don't take enough time to be quiet
and to sort what I'm trying to say
or even, trying to ignore,
most of the time.
So when I do - I try to do it all at once.

When I think of the things I really want to be doing.
When I consider what quality time is for me-
playing video games and watching tv
don't even rank.

This does.
Writing something.
As does spending time with my beloved
and showering my kitties with kisses
(I actually do that a lot.)

But how do we remember?
In the middle
or at the end
of the day?

Where we really want to be?
What we want to be doing?
Just one thing.
Just one thing at a time.

to slow down.
to breathe.
to stop.

all is quiet

Much to our surprise, we actually stayed awake until midnight last night.

We spent the evening with friends at their house - had an early dinner (fondue!) 

because their daughter is only 6 and generally goes to bed long before the witching hour.

And so we had our fondue, played a rousing game of Cards Against Humanity (which never disappoints in shock and hilarity) and before we knew it, found ourselves at 11:36pm.

We cracked the champagne,

turned on the tv to Times Square, 

(realized how out of touch I am with pop culture when I couldn't identify any of the hosts

or even Gwen Stefani, for that matter. What's up with her? She looks totally different.)

And quietly ushered in 2016.

We drove home on relatively empty streets and were in bed by 1:15. 

I couldn't tell you the last time I stayed up that late. 

Probably during an evening of talking and whiskey drinking with my brother. 

But I digress, as usual.

Today was quiet too.

Fella went out to his favourite coffee shop to do some writing

I stayed in bed with coffee to finish my book and cuddle the cats.

We decided to head out in the afternoon and go for a walk. 

It had been snowing, still relatively novel since we have had an unseasonably 

(read: wonderful) fall and early winter. 

(I already resent the snow and ice. and wish it gone. It's just so - messy.)

We were both tired so we weren't exactly chomping at the bit to get out

but we thought it would be best for our mental health so we hit the road.

We didn't know where we were going.

We were sure we would find something.

Toronto is a big city and today there was almost no traffic.

Just gigantic snowflakes.

We ended up in the east end of the city,

at Taylor Creek Trail.

It was beautiful. 

We were there for a couple of hours.

By the time we got back to the car

my cheeks felt slightly windburned and I was hungry.

We came home, made a pizza and relaxed.

I know. This story is really boring.

What is my point?

It's this -

I'm glad it's a new year.

I decided yesterday that I was done with resolutions. 

They result in disappointment and a sense of failure. 

And who needs that?

But to be honest - there are things I'd like to do this year.

To become. 

But they aren't resolutions.

Just...wishes. 

Or perhaps, promises to myself.

And maybe there's a little hope thrown in, 

to give the whole mix a bit of flavour.

The end of 2015 was hard

and later, I'll maybe say more about that

and how it's left it's mark.

I'm still trying to understand

and to find a place to hold one (terrible) thing that happened.

 I'll let you know where I land.

But happy new year.

2016. 

A lot could happen.

You never know.