I’m changing things up a bit today with a Blast from the Past:
Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge: Change
~ Stay tuned tomorrow for: My Boy & Me ~
What does change mean to you?
Times Change: My Girl & Me
Tag: life
So Long, Summer
Although the calendar tells me it is now officially fall, I am enchanted by these last few days of beautiful temperate weather we are enjoying in Newfoundland. Paul and I even had a chance to lie in the sun and read yesterday evening. It was so gorgeous on our deck that we didn’t want to go inside for supper until the sun sank low on the horizon.
As much as I love the summer temperatures, it’s nearly time to say good-bye.
Happily, I have a nostalgic affection for fall and everything it brings.
Here are a couple of pics I snapped of ripening apples
on our recent trip to Springdale in Green Bay:
The view beyond the apple trees:
We stayed overnight in nearby King’s Point.
Here is the view from our room the next morning:
Before leaving, I made sure to visit the pottery and craft store to browse and to buy a few things:
If you ever get the opportunity to visit the area, do stop in here. You won’t be sorry.
One of the perks of my husband’s job is joining him on these road trips.
We love any opportunity to visit the many corners of our island.
***
Two evenings ago, I had to run for my camera again.
The sunset on Perry’s Point was so stunning,
I think Maisie and Vivian were even spellbound:
After the sun disappeared, the sky took on a strikingly different quality:
Another good-bye…
That same evening, I received a call from my sister.
My beloved aunt in the U.S. had passed away suddenly.
I am inclined to let imagination take hold,
to fancy that as she went to join my dad (her brother),
she painted that sky as a farewell to her loved ones here at home.
Rest easy, Aunt Irene. All is well.
❤
Insignificance?
When you look up at the stars, what do you see? Does the panorama of tiny infinite lights give you answers, or, as it does for many of us, raise infinite questions?
Every point of light in this sky is a star or an entire galaxy. Each galaxy holds billions of stars, with solar systems like ours orbiting each of them. Is it the Great Unknown or the Meaning of Life?
Because we are born egocentric, the prospect of our personal insignificance, and thus no afterlife, is disturbing.
Fear of our own mortality creates a need to believe in something greater than we are and that our death is not the end. In addition, if there is life after death, there is the belief in reunion with those we loved, lost, and grieve for.
But if you hold an atheistic view, you accept and may even appreciate the notion of your own insignificance. If this was your attitude, would it make you feel that everything you do is futile?
Or is it simply the freedom and beauty of seeing our world, and our lives, from an omniscient perspective? The universe was here in all its immensity before we arrived, and will be long after we’re gone. Doesn’t that make our time here on earth all the more exquisite?
Are we forgetting the value of living in the moment, the desire to improve the world for others, and the joy and privilege of telling those we love how much they mean to us, because one day our time will be up?
Alas, this is just a blog post, not a lofty dissertation.
Tell me what you think of, when you look up at the stars.
*Photos in this post were taken by my husband’s cousin, Paul Sautter Jr., on his recent visit with us. His superior camera, lens, and photography skills allowed him to capture the night sky on Perry’s Point in a way that is “light years” beyond my ability. I have so much to learn!
Where The Heart Is
***
I can hardly believe it. It’s been nearly five years since my husband and I went through with our plan to trade in our old lives and move out of the city.
In August of 2010, we threw caution to the wind and put our home of ten years on the market. Paul kissed me goodbye, drove to his hometown, and began overseeing the gargantuan job of renovating his grandfather’s old two-storey in Bonavista North. When the sale of our house closed near the end of September, Maisie, Vivian and I joined him. We stayed nearby in a friend’s vacant summer home until the bulk of the work was completed.
During the first week of December that year, we finally had enough upgrades done to buy our new appliances, unpack the boxes, and begin to set up house.
Do I have any regrets? Not many. That first winter, I missed living close to my family, and I still wish I could see my children and grandchildren more often than I do. But other than that, I am happy to have relocated here to our home by the sea. Somehow, I don’t think I would have taken up writing the way I have if I’d stayed in the city, so taking this journey to fulfill my lifelong dream has certainly made it all worthwhile.
Besides that, Paul’s dream to return to his boyhood home has come true too. ❤
Looking back now, I think we can both vouch for the old saying: the best journey is the one that takes you home.
***
***
Have you lived to see a dream come to fruition?
Or are you working on one for the future?
Ten Things My Grandchildren Taught Me
When most adults spend quality time with youngsters, they usually think of what they can share with them and teach them about life and the world around them.
While I spent a sizable chunk of April taking care of my two grandchildren, I did plenty of that, but – surprise, surprise – I also learned a few things about myself.
1. My addiction to jigsaw puzzles is alive and well. I had thought my love for putting them together (and the harder the better) had faded over the years, but helping and then pretty much taking over our grandson’s Skylander collection of puzzles turned out to be fun and surprisingly absorbing.
2. It is actually possible for me to like a Justin Bieber song without being fond of the Biebs himself. My granddaughter feels the same way, so I know it’s entirely acceptable.
3. I’ve taken a shine to the Wii Just Dance video games. Great uptempo music, effective aerobic exercise, having fun like a kid with the kids – what’s not to love? And who cares what I look like bopping around with them?
4. I always thought I didn’t like Brussels sprouts, but turns out I do! They can be delicious when you don’t boil the sh*t out of them (sorry, Mom). Five to ten minutes with a dash of salt: perfection. Thanks for the tip, granddaughter! Would you believe she was the one who wanted me to buy them?
5. Apparently and according to my granddaughter, I smile whenever I check my appearance in the mirror. I had no idea, and she finds it “creepy”.
6. I believe five bucks is too generous a gift from the tooth fairy. I don’t care if she is an Immortal Guardian.
7. I no longer think there is anything wrong with wearing your pyjamas around the house all day – my grandson totally encourages it. I still draw the line at wearing them out in public. That’s a trend I will never embrace.
8. According to this little fellow, the skin on my neck is very soft and “crinkly”, and he won’t let me forget it…well, I am his grandma, after all.
9. I adore having the opportunity to indulge them. And such fun to live in the moment with them!
10. I am profoundly grateful for having these little people in my life to love.
What have children taught you about yourself?
“You’re Like Your Mom…”
During a conversation with my husband last week, he said, “You sounded just like your mom, the way you said that.”
This wasn’t the first time he made the observation. Along with the unmistakable signs that I have become “a woman of a certain age” (ack!), sounding like my mother seems to have become yet another aspect of my getting older.
“Hmm,” I replied. “I was always told I was like Dad and his side of the family.”
“You may look like your dad, but you have more of Carrie’s mannerisms lately,” he told me.
So, yes. I grudgingly have to admit that sometimes, when the words fly out of my mouth, or if I behave in a certain way, it makes me think I may be morphing into the woman who raised me. For example, if I defend myself when teased, it’s as if I am channeling Mom. “You proper fun-makers!” Or if I refuse to give in to someone else’s demands, the comeback that comes to my mind is “And I won’t dance to your pipes!” These are just a couple of the dear old “Mom-isms” from yesteryear.
And there’s so much more. I’ve adopted her quick laugh, as well as her sardonic humour and her no-nonsense way of handling whatever life brings. All showing up in my actions, the older I get.
There was a time, when I was much younger, that I would have taken issue and disagreed with such a comparison. The truth is, I have always thought while growing up that I turned after my father. Dad had always been my hero of sorts, and he was the parent I had always identified with and wished to emulate.
But now, I see that bearing a resemblance to my mother is a badge of honour and a cherished rite of passage. In fact, I’m realizing if I could only be half the woman she was, with her intelligent observations and her kind, fun-loving nature, I would be more than proud.
In a couple of weeks when Mother’s Day rolls around, I will be remembering my mother again for the lovely yet strong person she was, for the way she lived her life, and for each and every valuable lesson she taught me. And even though I continue to miss her every single day that goes by, I will give thanks that she is still showing up in my life in other, more subtle ways. And I will give a special thank you to the universe for giving me the dearest woman anyone ever called Mom.
Easter Week with the Kids
This week is a definite departure from the usual routine at our house.
My daughter and her family came to visit on Good Friday, and we had a fun weekend together. Denise and Dave went back to town on Sunday, leaving the children with us for their entire Easter holidays. Here are a few photos.
Needless to say, my time and energy have been devoted mostly to our little guests.
How was your Easter?
In my next post, I will be sharing some news. Stay tuned!
Perry Boys
When my husband Paul was six years old, he and his family moved from Newtown – the little community in which we live now – to live in the capital city of St. John’s. Their parents relocated so that Paul’s oldest sibling David could attend the Vera Perlin school for his special needs.
On the day of the big move, Paul crawled up under the house – the actual house we live in now – in a show of protest. “Everyone should be able to live where they were born,” he argued through tears, but the die had been cast. He was pulled out and packed into the car with everyone else.
On the very first day at their new school, Paul and his other brother Kevin, who is one year older, decided to walk home from school for lunch, despite being told to stay there and eat the lunch they’d brought. But when they saw other children going home, they wanted to go as well. Unfamiliar with their new neighbourhood, the two boys got lost, and Kevin started to cry.
Brave little Paul tried his best to console his big brother by distracting him. “Don’t cry, Kev. Look at the pigeons,” he said, pointing at a bunch of them as they waddled across the sidewalk, hoping the strange, tame city birds might cheer him up. It worked, and they ended up following a classmate to his house. Between the jigs and the reels, their dad had to leave work and go pick them up.
Let’s go back a couple of years when Paul was four and Kevin was five, to another time the younger boy displayed his wisdom. A new addition to the family of three boys had arrived, and this time, it was a girl! When their mom brought baby Julie Ann home, the boys crowded around to get a look at their new sister. Kevin’s eyes opened wide when her diaper came off to be changed. “Look, Paul,” he said, incredulous. “She ain’t got nar topper!” (penis)
“No, ya foolish,” Paul said, enlightened beyond his years. “She got whatever Mom got.”
Now before you think I’m beating up on my brother-in-law, I’d like to share one more tale. Okay, two. When Paul was about nine and enjoying his summer vacation in Newtown, Kevin saved him from drowning. Paul was diving with some other boys off of Burnt Island, but he tired in the deep water and panicked. Kevin grabbed him by the hair on top of his head and pulled him to safety.
Years later, when Kevin was just beginning his teaching career, he and Paul were driving along in St. John’s one evening. Without warning, Kevin pulled over, stopped the car, and jumped out. He’d spied two teenage boys in a fist fight near the local hockey rink, and he wanted to stop them. Paul watched as he parted the boys, reasoned with them, and ended the scuffle.
It was a day he never forgot. Where most people would just keep going and not get involved, Kevin stepped in and tried to solve the problem. It made Paul really proud of his brother.
Paul confessed there were other boyhood fights where Kev stepped in and rescued Paul himself, fights my husband started and couldn’t finish. I would say he’s grateful for those too. And so am I. 🙂
Happy Old Year :-)
For several reasons, 2014 was a happy and productive year for yours truly, and probably the most pleasant since we moved to Bonavista Bay North four years ago.
Fittingly, the most popular song of 2014 turned out to be “Happy” by Pharrell Williams. With its simple, exuberant message and its cheerful beat, perhaps I’m not totally surprised it has become one of the bestselling singles of all time (Personally, I liked his hit “Get Lucky” a little bit more).
However, I find myself partial to the version below by Walk Off The Earth, a band from Burlington, Ontario. They are accompanied in this video by the American pop rock band, Parachute. Have a listen, and tell me what you think!
Thanks to Denise and Dave for introducing them to us a couple of years ago, and kudos to Paul for “feeling the endorphins release”. 😉
What was your favourite happy song of 2014?
Was it a good year for you, or one you are glad to put behind you?
What is bringing you happiness right now?
Links of Interest:
Pharrell Williams’ 24 Hours of Happy
Walk Off The Earth (Official Website)
Jennifer’s Journal
*3 Years Blogging*
Friday Bouquet #11
I’ve been following Elizabeth from Almost Spring nearly as long as I’ve been blogging. She writes eloquently as a woman blindsided when her husband leaves their marriage, and tells how her life is transforming from “We to Me.”
In her own words:
I am a 59-year-old woman surviving the pain of the collapse of my 37 year marriage that occurred suddenly through no choice of my own. I survived the first six months by living in today and enjoying the moments of a glorious summer.
…When that first summer ended, when the days became shorter, the mornings colder and I could see the winter approaching, I began to wonder how I would survive the darkness, the cold, the grey skies and the impending gloom of winter. Then I thought to myself – ‘why?’ It is almost spring… So too with my current life situation.”
I chose one of her posts from last month because it illustrates how far Elizabeth has come on her emotional journey. You might like to follow her too, if you’re in a similar situation. Click on the link below to read about her, and don’t forget to mention Jennifer sent you.
Comments are disabled here in hopes you will visit and comment on her blog.
Have a wonderful weekend, everyone.
❤
*Image:Courtesy[StuartMiles]FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Jennifer's Journal 