Summer Roundup

I've noticed a disturbing trend.

It's substantially darker now when I rise at six AM, and I'm reaching for sweaters and capris. Not a slip dress. I'm not so cool with this, as I happen to be at my best on endless sunny, vitamin D enriched days. So, to spare you my whining, here are some Summer 2012 highlights:

Our first ever graduate. There aren't enough blog posts in the world to begin to work through that one, so I'll let it age in my grey matter until it spawns something hopefully eloquent.

It must have been pretty special though. Arianna managed to talk Micah out of his royal blue crew neck t-shirt; and into a button up dress shirt and vest! It was a profound moment.

My parents. Who made it to my daughter's graduation.

I always worried as a child that my parents would be dead before I ever had children, and now they're still around when my firstborn is an actual adult! Will the wonders ever cease. Did I mention that daddy turned 90 this summer? yes, indeed, he did. Another highlight. (aren't they the cutest?)

Moving along.

 

Enjoying my Jane with her oldest friend in the world. What music to hear them laugh together. Makes me wish that summer days at the beach could last forever.

Speaking of the beach.

Reading.

And reading.

With brief intermissions of bird droppings. While I was reading; "When I Am Old I Shall Wear Purple".

(doesn't my friend have the best hands?)

 

Exploring.

 

Which in my world involves finding previously unplumbed thrift stores. (It has plumbing. What I mean is that the potential and depth, breadth and possibilities of these thrifting destinations need to be properly excavated. By me.).

It behooves me to stress how much stuff I left behind.

Soooo much.

Brian. Working his butt off. Every day, day in, day out, in the basement. Fueled by Kokanee, tunes, and the joyful anticipation of a finished basement, with a second bathroom. At long last.

(I'm so proud of him, and grateful. Did I mention a second bathroom?! I meant to. Its been nine years, four kids, a million little kids, and one bathroom. I can't possibly overstress this enough.)

Coffee.

Consistently rewarding, always delicious.

A highlight, no matter what time of year.

It's my plan for how to survive another winter.

In my new basement, that's going to have a bathroom. Have I mentioned that?

Treasure. I found some doozies this summer, so I went on a tiny rampage, roaring around the city picking up awesome stuff in the ancient family half ton truck. And I sold a bunch of stuff that were other year's treasures because I'm not an actual hoarder. Oh no, I'm not.

Seriously folks. Awesome treasure.

 

My kids. At summer camp.

 

 

hanging out at my big brother's cabin.

I do so little when I'm there that I think my biological clock actually goes into reverse.

Its not a bad thing.

Our apple trees this year. And all the crap apple jalapeno jelly I've cooked up. I'll be on the "cream cheese, crackers, and jelly" diet. All winter. With some of that BC Growers strawberry and rhubarb cider on the side. Should be an all right winter, after all.

Seeing Brian in his butterfly shirt. He took a two day course on monarch butterflies, and opened all our eyes to the wonders of that aspect of nature. Plus, it isn't just any old guy who can really wear a butterfly shirt. I happened to get one of them.

A new baby in the family. Yummy, yummy baby Macie, my sister's first grandchild.

Another great-grandchild for my mama, and the first ever niece for my niece Linnea. I love the circle of life.

We've all kind of taken on baby Macie as our own.

And as a final highlight, I'm excited about a new possibility for bags4darfur. It's ok to let things go fallow sometimes, and just watch what grows anyway.

Summer is so intense and fabulous and packed full that I usually only write mental blog posts. But the sun is shifting in the sky, the walls are up in my new basement, the mornings are growing chilly, and Sam's school supply list is laying on my kitchen counter.

Its good to pause, and just take a little inventory before rushing off into the next set of immediate realities: Arianna going off into the world as an adult; Jane entering grade 11, and planning her next Europe trip; Micah and Sam back to swimming and piano lessons, Brian heading back to the classroom, and me. Anticipating some bernina energy, welcoming all my sweet minions back, and learning.

Always learning.

Posted with Blogsy

My Beloved

I'm feeling sad for my girls.

All the ones who've been told

you're not.

thin

good

willing

sexy

Enough.

All the girls whose mothers don't tell them they're

perfect

worthy

capable

desired

valued

respected.

I'm feeling sad for all the girls who didn't believe they are worth it. Who weren't taught not to settle. Who thought they had to just sit down and take it. I'm sad they had no one to speak up for them when they didn't have words. Sad that "NO" wasn't ok. Wasn't nice.

I'm sad that we all believe it a little bit. That we're not enough. That there's always an exercise for that. There's always a "before and after" to strive for. That "before" is not worth living, unworthy of accepting, not too bright, not so pleasing.

Inadequate.

I'm sad that strong gets a bad rap. That if you're a feminist, you must be a man-hating blood-thirsty bitch.

I want to take it all back, on behalf of all my sisters. I want to abolish every magazine that pushes product to make us more acceptable, every movie that reminds us that cellulite must not be normal, every reality show that reinforces woman as thin, booby, long-limbed, perfect haired and de-haired in all the right places. I want to tell all the little girls that everything is normal, and that we might be tall and short; lean and round; loud or quiet. That we need and value all of it. That no one prototype exists. That we are all valuable, adequate, equipped for what our lives will bring.

I want to redefine sexuality as a magical thing that spawns from mutual respect, love, attraction. That its not something to be mastered and learned from Cosmo and You9orn. It's not some sort of "skill" that should be learned for that "just in case".

You're worth more than that.

Your cellulite and small breasts don't matter.

It's you that its all about. You are the prize. You are the beloved.

YOU

are not defined by those things that are out of your control and ought not be marketed as anything other than that.

My girls, my friends, my sisters. Let's not believe it. Let's speak up instead of playing nice. Let's speak up for one another. Let's stop perpetuating the propoganda about our bodies being

Inadequate.

and let's spend more time on

Enough.

Posted with Blogsy

What's Making Me Happy Today

 

Puttering in my sewing room early in the morning while the house sleeps.

With thoughts of spending my day on more of this, with my day kids. And as we wander through town making the tough decisions between the yellow, red or blue slides, I'll be gazing toward the edges of town where the corn stands tall, and the combined wheat fields gift us with the smells of fresh, sunny straw. I'll imagine my mom as a young girl, re-stuffing her burlap mattress, and snuggling down at night on her harvest scented bed.

Did I mention that I'm sipping coffee, while I'm all alone, just dreaming and pottering about?

It's not at all hard to be happy, so far today.

And one more thing. I was at a "nay frien". (sewing circle) on Friday where I learned how to make zippy pouches. (my mother should be so proud...)

I inadvertently sold one on my bags4darfur blog! Not that they're not for sale. I just hadn't gotten around to marketing them. Just like I haven't gotten around to marketing anything over there in ages.

So, that makes me pretty happy.

What's making you happy today?

Posted with Blogsy

With Her Blog Post Stuck On A Sad Poem, She Was Meanwhile Out And About, Having A Most Marvelous Time

 

Reading and reading while others careen around the lake.

Getting to know our newest family member, sweet Macie.

A quick diversion to the hospital with my dad. It looked scary and terrible.

It turned out not so scary and not quite so terrible.

Enough so that dad could grumble about not much liking vacationing in hospitals.

Crisis averted, I meanwhile scrambled off on a vacation that perfectly suited my delicate preferences.

Five girls in a boler.

Going prairie exploring.

So much to discover, and just a stone's throw away!

 

Plenty of time for treasure hunting.

 

Playing.

 

Indulging our senses.

 

And letting the prairies show us the way.

Then home again to watch Brian transform our basement space into something kinder, more gentle, most sensible and helpful.

Farewell to my cheerfully painted floral concrete walls.

Hello, insulation! Drywall! Bathroom! Actual carpet!

 

Then getting my Sam ready for camp.

Reminding him of the importance of deodorant.

Daily.

Then dropping him off, quite happily, to play tether ball.

By himself.

Our sweet Napoleon Dynamite.

 

And that's just barely a summary of my delicious summer, so far.

I've barely mentioned the treasure hunting, book reading, dreams and plans. The sunshine, summer weddings, the smell of canola fields in 30 degrees. The tomatoes growing, sunflowers stretching, my brother's return after 14 years of international living. The chairs I've sold, the chairs I've bought... the perfect cupboard with yellow bakelite handles. The trips to Olde House Revival Company, my alternate life on Winnipeg Kijiji, or the taste of Stella's breakfast. A van with broken air conditioning, four hour road trips, weekend with friends of eighteen years. The birthday party for our first ever adult child.

That's the thing about summer in Manitoba. It's faster than fast and better than good, and while your blog is sorely neglected and stuck on a somber sad note, you're actually rushing about storing up goodness real quick like.

Before its all over again.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies

I tried to explain that it wasn't about the physical.  That it was more of a brain thing.

But her daughter was shrinking.

And I felt at an utter loss because of my own
brain
damaged.

She was shrinking and there was nothing I could say to show her how
chronic
progressive
unrelenting

it would become.

I remembered
How marvelous to be unencumbered by any traces of
horrible
ugly
embarrassing
bothersome
FAT.

To join the elites in their
thin
ness.

To have earned that immunity against being
not enough.

To wrap that dress a lot tighter, and cinch up that belt.
To wear the little shorts
to stop
the jiggle.
of
NOT
enough
ness.

I couldn't describe to them how after twenty-one years of "well" ness, it could
 find me
at a soccer field.
Sneak up behind me, like a spirit.
Turn the air dark and cold
condemning.

And as that ghost has its way with me I see
my thighs have spread.
Each dimple the scar of an accusation:
Not
Good
Enough!!

And my now middle-aged body spreading in unfamiliar ways
interpreted by that chilling presence...
Yuck!
Shame de!
Must Lose Weight!

Even though I have been well.
All these years.

I want to explain to them how
these deaths in our community* will catapult her
into ever narrower obsessions that will frustrate her no end.
She won't want to be thinking about
herself.
her belly.
her thighs.
While people around her are in agony
in real pain
with real loss.

But her mind will have been possessed
Long long before
when she was glad to be
unencumbered.

When it seemed to them that this was about her
body.
And not her mind.
That if only she would eat.
This would go away.

But the longer she plays
at being thin
The stronger the spirit will grow.

And she'll find herself in the grass on a perfect night
watching soccer
when the news will come.

U-Turn.
No return.
Ever.
Good-bye.

And she'll find herself
suspended in disbelief that a person could be here one moment and the next entirely gone.
Her brain won't know where to go with this.  It's beyond belief, and there's nothing she can do to make it
go away
or get better.

But then her ghost will appear.
Sneak up behind her and wrap her up in hot and cold reminders; prickling her all over.

YOU.
should go on a diet.

And just like that
she has
Something
that she can do.

But I can't seem to explain it
And they can't seem to understand.
That it looks like the body has a problem
But really its a problem
of the mind.

*Three deaths of young people in our community, all within one year.
Plus the mysterious disappearance of my niece's cousin, now presumed to have been murdered.

Too Much, Too Soon!

 

Grad. Our first grad.

Soccer, family gathering, wedding, and birth just barely behind us, and headlong into graduation.

That meant an end to grad meetings, and time to put all our planning to fruition.

Decorate.

 

And when it all came together-

What decor it turned out to be!

What a pleasure, working with such a talented team.

It certainly helped to set the tone for a night of dance, dance, dancing.

And some playful slurp, slurp, slurpee-ing!

Everyone was looking their finest.

I was particularly pleased with my daughter's perfect touch: coral lace up boots.

 

The perfect twist of "not so regular".

And her dress was

Just

Plain

Fun.

I was so pleased that the grandparents could come.

Especially when my Arianna won the first ever MCC Thrift shop grant for past and future volunteerism. I don't think we could have made my mom and dad more proud.

(regretfully, the pics of the other grandparents are on someone else's camera.... yet to be uncovered).

Arianna, with her impressive powers of persuasion, actually talked her brothers into dressing up.

Just a little.

I couldn't help crushing on my boys.

They were devilishly handsome.

The whole lot of them were nothing to sneeze at.

So we captured it all on film.

Real quick - like, so we could get on with the task at hand:

Dancing

The

Night

Away.

 

(I don't dance like I don't run or lift weights or play badminton "just for fun".

But after a few hours of watching "all my daughters" celebrating without reservation or restraint, I might have gotten pulled onto the floor myself.

Just for a little dance.

And they all appeared to forgive me,

lovely bunch

that they are.

 

And that's the way it went with our very first grad.

 

And then we rushed on to the next thing, so much, so soon.

Posted with Blogsy