Winter Tear Drops

The snows beauty is sudden as the white witch  leaves her furry  with impassable  drifts and the hint of frost seething through the air.  She has cast a cursed spell that toils with an ache in your heart and shivers you to the bone.  It is in the last days of winter  the longing for  change to  occur with a sudden jab as the snow falls heavily to the ground.

At these moments  longing sets in for something new, a change, and  a myriad of colors to make things better again.

The reawakening of crocus and tulips to lift the spirits making us want to dance and delight in the warm evenings of spring.

But the knowledge of the white witches spell only reminds you that days will slowly go by until that goodness arrives at the hands of father time.

A winter tear drop falls one by one slowly and steadily wondering when will this state of exhaustion be lifted with the welcoming of the sun.

The white witch has her way of twisting our emotions as we trudge through the drifts and shovel the wet snow. It is her wrath that we battle through the cold nights to revel in the warmth of spring.

One  last winter tear drop and then it will be done in the morning you can relish in the welcoming of the sun.

How do you escape the drudgery of winter?

The Sidewalk Ends

[Virginia from the Kiss Chronicles has never been kissed and she is saving it for the highest bidder who donates the highest sum to cancer research. Now that's what I call making your first kiss special!  She is also looking for  your story you know the one about your awkward first kiss.  Her one question is "You’ve reached the place where the sidewalk ends. Where did it end, and what are you going to do next?"]

The morning down peers down on my face, I inhale the fresh air, and from my headset Mindy Smith’s Peace of Mind touches my soul. It is the perfect setting for a walk along the sidewalk path in the mountains. As I listen to the voice of an angel my tears well up and I let out a sigh. It’s been a long week and the days seem to be getting just a little longer. The stride in my step seems to be slowing down.  

My busy mind seems to clear because we are all trying for that peace of mind and a hopeful heart. It’s times, challenges, which make us stronger, and make us want to be better than who we are…

We all strive, over-think, have been broken , but at the same time it’s these cracked and worn pieces that make us who we are and who we want to be. We have all made mistakes sometimes we don’t need to be reminded sometimes we just need a gentle helping hand to be there for us.

It’s moments like this when clarity can seep in your soul for a glimpse of a second, the song ends, and you continue your step. You look up to discover beauty is all around you. The mountains will be here when you leave, looking down at us, and always remembering our stories. It’s when the sidewalk ends I take a deep breath and walk into the hotel to rejoin my family knowing it will all be okay.

Where does the sidewalk end for you?

A Mop! A Mop! A Cleaning Lady for a Mop!

I once had ambitions  just like Richard the III and dreamed of my own matriarchal  kingdom. It would be  a shiny beacon that would make Martha Stewart envious of my organizational skills. In the past week I have washed, scrubbed toilets, and de-cluttered  almost all of the closets. It was only within moments my homes squeaky clean appearance was tarnished…

The aftermath of my madness was questionable, but what lead to this madness? Was it that I gave Mr. MBA too much free rein last night when he did the laundry? Or was it  giving the kids too much freedom in their room  not policing where they put their toys and laundry? I’m unsure where or when my madness occurred but when it did everyone took cover!

I awoke this morning groggy, getting breakfast ready, packing lunches, listening to the sound of my coffee brewing in the tassimo (my one trusted friend ) it was when my little man yelled, “Mom where are my socks?”

“Your Dad put them away last night they should be in your top drawer.”

“They’re not!”

My second son, “Mine are not either!”

My husband came trudging down the stairs in his wrinkled dress pants and shirt. I gave him the once over “Did you stuff the dryer full?”

“Yes!”

“Why would you do that everything is going to be wrinkled!”

“Don’t worry I’ll fix it.”

He went downstairs and put his wrinkled clothes in the empty dryer. I thought to myself not a word just I just need my coffee.

“Mom! I still don’t have any socks!”

I wandered upstairs and looked at his room. My ears began to turn red “Where is your floor? What have you done? I just cleaned this yesterday!”

He gave me his sweet eyes, “I don’t know!”

I went back to the kitchen to discover the dog in the garbage. It was everywhere the remnants of last nights spaghetti sauce. I was biting my tongue, keeping my cool, the dog gave me the look, and took cover in her crate.

Mr. MBA reappeared smoothed out and ready to face his day! “Did you put away the kids clothes last night?”

“Yup!”

“That’s funny I can’t find their socks. I’ll go look in the laundry room.”

As I hit the bottom of the basement steps,  and entered the family room. I looked and discovered a pile of clean socks in the centre of the floor.

“Mr. MBA could you come here!”

I heard the foot steps slowly come down the stairs. “Yes!”

“What’s this?”

“It’s the kids socks.”

“Why are they in the middle of the floor?”

“I thought they could just match as they go!”

“You thought? You thought? You thought they could  match and go?”

“Is that what your mother did?”

“Well no!”

“So do you think I want to look at a pile of socks every time I watch TV?”

Mr. MBA slinked up the stairs “I think I better go now.”

All of my Better Home and Garden dreams thwarted with a blink of an eye. I felt dizzy with the onset of madness and all  I could do was declare  “A Mop! A Mop! A Cleaning Lady for a Mop!”

Have you ever been driven to madness?

The Buffoon

Over the holiday season my mother dragged me to every mall and outlet store within the city limits of Edmonton. We shopped, shopped, and shopped some more. On one of our particular trips we headed to the West Edmonton Mall.

It was busy, over-crowded, and I felt the energy being sucked from me under the neon mall  lights.  My mother on the other hand was a deal hunting matriarch on the loose and there was no stopping her.

As, we stepped out of the Gap, I was  tired and beginning to wonder when are we going to get out of this place? I heard apish sounds from behind, I paused for a moment, and wondered was this buffoon speaking to me?

I assessed the  buffoon, out of his natural habit, as he clomped past us with his girlfriend pushing a little toddler in the stroller.

He exclaimed, “Watch where you going! You Dumb Bitch!”

I paused for a moment, “Excuse me!”

“Yes! You! You F*!kin’ Bitch!”

My ears went red, I looked at his girlfriend, the stroller, as he trudged by, I exclaimed, ” Watch your language! Watch how you speak in front of your child!”

His girlfriend looked at me, looked at her boyfriend, and exclaimed “Did she just tell us how to speak in front of our child?” And as she said this - visibly upset, she smartly disappeared into the crowd. Obvious, that she wanted no part of what the unpredictable buffoon would do next…

The buffoon then charged towards me. I panicked, began to assess the situation (not a mall cop in sight), and saw my sixty-seven year old mother ready as back up, clutching her heavy purse, ready to clobber him over the head.

He exclaimed, “What did you just f*!kin’ say to me!”

I said, “Your acting like a Moron! And you should watch your language around your child.”

I stared him down, my ears were flaming red, I felt my hands shaking, never have experienced such ignorance! Especially, from a complete stranger in a shopping mall!

Once again, the buffoon exclaimed, “Dumb F*!kin’ Bitch! Don’t tell me how to speak in front my child!”

“You should lead by example and right now your acting like a moron!”

On that he turned on his heels, to catch-up his girlfriend, swearing a blue streak a mile high. I  looked at mother “Did that just happen? I can’t believe he has a child?”

My mom looked at me and replied, “I know dear!  What a buffoon! Don’t worry if he comes back I’ll clip him in the ear!”

It was nice to know my Mom still had some spunk left in her ready to kick this  buffoons ass!

 I also know the moment he began swearing at me, I felt rage, anger, and judging. I judged him, his girlfriend, and wondered what type of life would they provide for this child? We as parents are role models for our children, and should be teaching them important values such as courtesy, respect, and kindness to strangers. If we don’t who will?

If he has the ability to swear at a complete stranger with no rational thought than what ability does he have to raise this child? So, yes, the moment the buffoon began his tirade –  I  judged him.

I realize I didn’t handle this situation with tact or grace. I felt anger, resentment, and bitterness. But I wonder could I have handled this differently, and if so how do you deal with a buffoon? Any suggestions.

Linda Hamilton, Your Arms Rocked the Nineties!

I remember as an awkward thirteen year old, Terminator 2, and I remember ogling Linda Hamilton’s rock hard arms. I wanted those arms, they were an inspiration, and I ran for the whole summer trying to get into her physical shape.  Unfortunately, to no avail I’ve never had her good genetics but as a role model for health and fitness she was the it-girl for me.

As years passed, life changed, work, kids, my level for any form of fitness dwindled. But this spring someone referred to me as chunky and brought out  my competitive fighting spirit!  I was going to show that Skinny B!*H what I was all about…

So, at the beginning of June I channelled my inner rocky and joined boot camp. I figured it would be one of those workouts were I would fizzle,burn, and give up. I lack coordination and haven’t seriously worked out in years. But the comment triggered something in my brain where I would win the battle of the chunk.

It was in this class I met a series of kick ass alpha females who challenge their physical limits for faster times, and attempt to do that one extra push-up.  It was inspiring! And once I got past the pain and realized that there was gain. I soldiered on! Since, beginning this class I have lost two pant sizes, and ran my first 5km.  It has been great. I’m no longer thinking about my muffin tops, the scale, but more focused on improving my running times.

I may not have the Linda Hamilton arms but they have once again become my inspiration for staying fit. So, hats off to you Linda for making Terminator 2 in the nineties and showing that women don’t have to be lanky wall flowers.  And as for you Skinny B!*H you can take your chunk of a mouth and shove it!

Oops! Did I just say that?

Help! My IPod Shuffle is Depressed!

 I was Ready! Pumped! Set for my Run!  I turn on my shuffle for some great motivational tunes and this is what I get….

  1. Famous Blue Raincoat – Leonard Cohen
  2. That Horse in the Country – Cowboy Junkies
  3. Bulletproof – Jim Cuddy
  4. Crush – Dave Matthews
  5. Two – Ryan Adams
  6. Who Will Save Your Soul – Jewel
  7. All Apologies – Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
  8. Ranblin’ Woman – Cat Power
  9. Shine – David Gray
  10. Sun Comes Up It’s Tuesday Morning – Cowboy Junkies
  11. If you See Her, Say Hello – Bob Dylan

Seriously, it made me want to run home and crawl under the covers. Oh! And currently it’s playing,” If You were Mine” by Billy Holliday! Is my IPod sending me a message?

Sorry Sunday – A Dedication to My Father

On Mother’s Day I wrote my mom a note “Happy Mother’s Day!  Confessions from Your Charming Brat!” It was about all the horrible things I did that she suspected but could never prove in our humble family kitchen court. Since it is Father’s Day I would like to do the same for my dad. Unfortunately, he is up in that card playing table in heaven and couldn’t be with us on this lovely day. So, I decided to dedicate this Sorry Sunday to him. It’s all about his silent suspicions  he had about me but always took the blame to ensure a calming weekend of peace from his teenage daughter and wife.

Shall we begin?

Dear Dad,

1. Remember when Mom always told me not take the car across the narrow bridge. Well I did anyway! It was only a few days later you noticed the paint scratched off the side of the car. I argued with you with such great vigor until you were convinced it was you who did it! Well! Now you know it wasn’t your forgetful age that made you hit the bridge, it was me!

2.Do you remember the morning a case of beer went missing and Mom blamed  you for it! You didn’t say a word or point the finger. You took the blame like a man. Well! Guess What? It was me! I  stole  the case the previous  night for a really fun beach party.  However, I suspected you knew. You alway picked your battles wisely,you realized taking the fall was the easy way out, ensuring your own peace and quiet on that lovely Sunday afternoon. But I still felt guilty. So sorry!

3. As a teenager I always scoffed at your advice about Mom and her alien ways. I secretly, listened, figured out how to talk to her, by the time I was twenty, I realized she was great! Thanks!

4.  I use to love to test your political will even when I agreed with you! Remember our argument over Paul Martin and the Gomery inquiries. I took Martin’s side. Your face went red and you told me off  with gusto and retorted ”Go eat your fishing chips!” One of the best moments ever! And of course I agreed with you. I just wanted to see what you would say and it made my day!

5. Last but not least, remember the time I was four ,we were at Zellers, and I wanted a chocolate bar? I took too long to decide and ended up with nothing. I went home proclaiming “I was going to purchase a new dad!” I dug out the Sears catalogue to find the perfect replacement but not one held a candle to you. I’m relieved I never found that replacement because without you I would have never had the great adventures and family memories. Thank you for being the best dad in the world! 

 I wish you were with us on Father’s day, celebrating, eating, drinking and playing catch with your grand children. I just want you to know we love you and miss you! Your spirit will always be alive in our hearts and memories.

Happy Father’s Day! I don’t think the confessions were too  much of a surprise - the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree!

Love,

Your  Brat

Mother Nature has Ruined My Sunny Disposition

It has been almost two years since my husband and  I were lured from the east coast to the economic prosperity of the west.  We  were warned Edmonton the largest Northern City in the world was cold. We laughed and wondered really? How cold could it get? After our second winter of -40 weather and snow at the end of May. I am  beginning to understand why  people refer to Edmonton as COLD!

I am an adaptable creature.  But my patience with Mother Nature has waned. She is  (excuses my language) A COCK TEASE! First she flirts with us giving us a week of scorching hot temperatures,   and then has the audacity to torture us  with cold wind and sleet on this lovely long weekend.  

In my imaginary world my conversation would go as such with Mother Nature.

Mother Nature would come down from the heavens looking serene, holding her magic wand, ready to cast another torturous blast of cold snow. I would look at her and exclaim, “Who do you think you are?”

She would ask, “You can see me?”

“Yes! I can see you! What’s with this weather?”

“My wand is out of whack and it’s not working.”

“What do you mean your wand is whack? Not working? For God sakes you’re Mother Nature! I thought you controlled the weather?”

“Well! I had a fight with Hera, you know how jealous she gets over Zeus, and well she broke the tip of my wand.”

“You are telling me two grown goddesses got in a fight over an old man! And she broke your wand! Are you serious?”

“Yes!”

“But my garden! My retaining wall! Do you know the havoc you are causing my life?”

“Ummm! It’s not havoc darling.  It’s just weather. Suck it up!”

“Those are wise words from a goddess who broke her wand!”

It was at that moment she looked at me with rage, pointed her wand, and presto  more snow appeared around my lovely garden of tulips.  She then vanished into thin air. It is because of this imaginary conversation  my sunny disposition has faded.  I have turned into a bitter bitty! I look at the dark skies, cursing her, and waiting for the return of the sun.

Don’t get me wrong! I think Edmonton is a great city – wonderful little art scene, delish restaurants, and extremely family –oriented. But for me I ‘m beginning to think I miss my beaches, the predictable weather, and an early gardening season. It’s the little things in life that I enjoy. So to overcome my foul mood, I will pretend its warm, and admire a picture from Kouchiboquac National Park just to get me through this day.  Oh! And Maybe a nice umbrella drink! Any suggestions?

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