Blue days . . .

Blue days . . . 

Every once in a while, for no apparent reason, the blues descend upon me.  That's what's happening today.  I know that Covid is wearing people down and I suppose some of my lethargy is coming from months and months of social isolation.  I also struggle during these rainy, grey days.  Thankfully, we have had more sunshine than normal for this time of year.

I had a restless night.  I don't remember my dreams from last night but I remember there were many and that I had to wake myself up to stop the feeling of urgency bordering on panic.  Those kinds of dreams always leave me with a bit of a dull headache and that's not a nice way to start the day.

One of the pleasures of being retired is being able to have a leisurely start to my day.  I often get up and putter around the house tidying etc and then settle in to catch up with the day's happenings..  I used to love reading the morning paper, it always felt like such a quiet way to step into the day.  I could skim over the negative headlines and settle into the stories that really interested me.  News comes to us in so many other ways these days.  I have to admit, I most often try NOT to watch the news these days.  For one thing, all of the boxes on the screen are SO distracting - there is SO much going on that I find it hard to focus and mostly, the news isn't good news so no morning news for me.


The clouds are breaking a little so perhaps it's time to get on my bike so I can turn my attention to my sore butt and burning legs.  A little distraction is what I need. So glad to live in a country where my choices are many, a thought that comes to me often during these days of isolation and fear.  

Life As It Comes

Wondering. . . 

The longer I experience life the more often I am set to wondering about life's twists and turns.  Are we like dandelion fluff in the wind, going in whichever direction happens to catch us up as we leave the mother plant?

I read a lot of stories today of women who have overcome the most challenging starts in life and yet have found their way to happiness.  I know a lot of women who had a good start in life and the challenges came later.  I know many women, myself included, who don't feel like there were that many obstacles along the way (relative to others) and life has been mostly good for much of the journey to date.

I think of my grandmother living through the depression eating only what her and my grampa could catch on their trap line.  I know her frugal ways and terrible eating habits came from living through the lean years.  Yet my grandmother got her teaching degree and taught in Hutterite colonies and First Nations schools throughout Alberta in spite of the challenges. She could tan a hide, create patterns for all of their clothes, sew and bead and make something out of nothing.  She was musical and artistic which didn't seem to fit with the bossy, practical woman I mostly remember.  She was the link that held together many family members, travelling from one end of our country to the other, sleeping in the back of her pickup truck with the homemade purple canopy.  There wasn't a small town in any of our provinces where she didn't know someone and she made sure she kept in touch with all of them.  That frugal woman never paid for a place to stay as long as I knew her :). My gramma passed away many years ago and I wish now I had had the foresight to ask her how she managed to live such a full life in a time when women were mostly seen as the ones who held down the homefront.

I think of my mother, having been raised by a woman ahead of her time and wonder how that impacted the decisions my mother made.  It has taken me a long time to understand some of the things my mom endured and survived.  She is a private person and communication between us has never been open or addressed any aspect of life that might be deemed emotional.  I see in my mom's life that some of her responses were intentionally made because they went against my Gramma's beliefs - she clearly had a strong desire to be her own woman.  It is interesting to me that both my grandmother and my mother married men who were prone to drink and yet they were men who cooked and cleaned and contributed around the house, an oddity in their time.


I think of my own life.  I was married at 18 to my high school sweetheart. My first baby was born when I was 18, my second at 20.  My husband was at university and for the most part I stayed home with my babies.  I will be eternally grateful that this was possible.  I had no desires, no big plans for my future and life seemed easy and full in spite of our financial challenges.  Motherhood was my calling and everything that came later in life was just the icing on the cake.  That's not to say there weren't challenges.  As I look back over those years I am proud of the way Bob and I both just took life as it came.  Our kids will tell you that we made mistakes, lots of them, but we made them with the best of intentions.  I truly believe we did our best with what we had at the time and considering our young age when we married we have come through with shining colours.

I wonder how the decisions I made and the way I lived my life have impacted our own children. I know that some things I did as a parent will never make it to the next generation.  I would be curious to know what my kids would have to say about that question.  But, it is one I will never ask them as I do not want them second guessing whether I am questioning their methods or decisions.  The one luxury I had in raising my children was not ever having anyone close enough around to judge my day to day decisions.  The cost of that was never having any support either though.  My kids were my kids 24/7 and it NEVER felt like a burden (well, except for that one time I wanted to run away from home, but just for a weekend, when Carrie and Kelly were around 3 months old).

I watch my kids parent their kids now and I realize how much better I could have done, in so many ways.  But, in the moment, I did my best and I did it with love.  They are, and always have been, and always will be, the best of me.

2021 From the Rear View Mirror

While we will all remember the catastrophes and limits that surrounded us in 2021 we must also celebrate the moments that kept us sane.  Amidst forest fires, heat domes, atmospheric rivers and devastating floods all under the bigger umbrella of the ever-evolving Covid pandemic, there were moments of joy and normalcy.

On New Year's Day  2021 Bob and I headed to Cultus Lake Golf Club to hit a few balls.  The weather was mild for January and following our outing to the driving range golf became a winter sport.  I joined a ladies group at Sandpiper Golf Course and often golfed a couple of times a week right through to the summer golf season. Being outdoors and able to socialize as we walked the fairways was a gift during these Covid times. The line I remember from Bob, "I don't remember ever wearing a toque golfing before."  It was great!

   

When school went back in January we returned to our Mondays With Layla.  This too was a gift during long stretches of not being able to see our family in person.  Layla is a live wire.  Every Monday included a walk on the beach or a walk in the woods - it was always Layla's choice.  Her ability to be IN nature, to squat down and really see affected the way I saw the world as well.  It is always eye-opening to be with a child in nature and her enthusiasm and energy were always infectious.  I love the image below where the two streams converged on their way to the lake.  I would not have noticed this if Layla had not been bent down checking it out.  I wanted to see what she was seeing, and I am so grateful I did.

She knows how to play in nature as well as how to just sit and soak it up.  We learned from her to do the same.

 

 

2022 - A Year of Possibilities

 I am not going to lie.  The first year of Covid was relatively easy for a retired person with lots of hobbies, a love of reading and a need for solitude.  The second year, not so much.  This past year was one of fits and starts.  I grabbed ahold of a new interest and rode it into the ground, repeatedly.  I am a spring/summer/fall person and enjoy the outdoors during these seasons.  I started walking regularly and enjoyed it.  I don't remember what brought the walks to an end, perhaps sunnier days pointed me to my bike.  My bike and I have a special relationship and we have spent many years exploring the roads around our small town and beyond. BC had extreme forest fires this season and the smoke that came our way made it challenging to get outside.  I do know that the heat dome (a new weather phenomenon) put an end to the out of doors completely.  We hunkered down in front of fans for several days with 40+ temperatures, not including the humidity index.  It was tough to get back on track and I became very still.  No creating, no reading, no exercising, just 'being'. Fortunately I had registered for the Great Cycle Challenge Canada and this got me out on my bike in September.  While the smoke from forest fires was a challenge, the heat had subsided enough for me to get in 549 km, raising $2063.99.  More importantly it got me moving again, lifting me from the stagnation that had set it.  Everything went along fine with many bike rides and a few hikes in the hillsides around.  

Then came the torrential downpours known as 'atmospheric rivers'.  All highways in southern BC were closed, some completely destroyed.  Houses were swept down rivers and hillsides and farms in the Sumas flats were submerged.  Sumas Lake came back to claim the land. These epic weather events on top of Covid restrictions overwhelmed me. The devastation all around us took the wind out of my sails and I became still again.  And still I stayed until Christmas holidays approached.  During the summer, just before the fires set in I had made a quick trip to Alberta.  My mom's health has been up and down for years and I felt the need to see my parents while a small window of opportunity (with the weather and with Covid) allowed.  I am so grateful I acted on my impulse as on December 3rd, after a couple of heart episodes, my dad passed away quite suddenly. He had a huge influence on my life and that will not change.

But now it is 2022.  I start this year by finishing a book written by a young man looking for freedom.  He decides, with no training or background, to bike from Oregon to Patagonia.  Some of the story is his own struggle with religion and his own sexuality and it is interesting but not nearly as interesting as the journey itself.  He faces struggles and challenges but keeps his eye on the goal for a full 16 months.  This is what inspired me about Jedidiah Jenkins' book, To Shake The Sleeping Self.

I am ready for a challenge. Perhaps not an epic challenge but a challenge none the less.  A challenge that pushes me physically and mentally.  I am not sure yet whether the challenge is to be faced alone or with someone else.  That is to be decided.  I have faced challenges before like everyone has.  The last real challenge was the comeback from an esophageal rupture in 2020. I spent 23 days in hospital, four of those in a coma and on a ventilator.  The recovery was challenging emotionally and physically, particularly through Covid.  Before Covid took away our travels I completed a challenging hike in Cinque Terre.  It pushed me to my physical limits and I was happy, as a former athlete, to complete this hike while not in the best of physical conditioning.  It reminded me what my body could do, even when it is not at its best.  There are also life challenges; heading to university for the first time at 26 years old while expecting my third and fourth children.  It took me a full 20 years from my first course to the completion of my Masters degree in Educational Leadership. I know none of these challenges were faced alone though.  Each and every challenge came with terrific support from amazing people.  I know, whatever challenge I take on that those same people will support me fully.  The challenge is my own but it is made easier with a support system.

I am looking forward to figuring this out and there are a few current ideas that interest me.  I have been following the stories of cold water swimmers and, as a swimmer, this really appeals to me.  As I learn more about how to develop into a cold water swimmer I am learning there is a process that must be followed and much information to be absorbed.  I also watched a presentation on a five day hike for women in Iceland.  This would be a considerable challenge given the condition of my knees.  I would need to make a real commitment to getting fit, really fit, and this also appeals to me.  My lack of fitness has been an emotional challenge for me for a long time and the years just keep passing on by without me rising to the challenge.  I also love my time on my bike.  I have yet to find a challenge in this area but I am sure there are lots of ways I could tackle this and I am looking forward to delving into the possibilities.

And there is the point.  My life is full of possibilities.  I am longing to embrace a real challenge and the possibilities are endless.  I will let you know when I land on the thing that moves my soul.  In the meantime, here's to a healthier 2022 so when the time comes I will be ready.

 

My Dad (Bill Brown January 24, 1934 - December 3, 2021)

 

Today we lost my dad.  He passed away in the night at home with Mom.  He would have been glad that it was a quick death and will make his final journey to the coulees near Donalda, AB, a place he always loved.

When I think of my dad I think of his big laugh.  He never worried things to death.  My dad was clearly never the best golfer on the course but he didn't care one bit.  I never remember him being frustrated, throwing his clubs or cursing the game and, like all golfers, had every right to do all of those things.  He loved being out there hitting the ball, walking the course and being with friends/family.  Every round I golfed with him was enjoyable from start to finish.

I love this picture of my dad and mom.  That cheeky grin, the cigarette. . . and anyone who knew him would be as sure as I am that there is a beer in his hand.  He did love his beer.  He had a great sense of humour, especially about himself.  He was quick-witted and never missed an opportunity to tell a great story.  When we were younger and travelling back and forth to Calgary for Christmases with his family I remember the ride being fast and slow.  When dad got to the good part of a story it was pedal to the metal. When he was building up the story or sharing the smaller details of it his foot lifted off the pedal and we slowed down until the story got good again.

My dad loved life.  He read voraciously.  For a man with a grade 8 education he probably knew more Canadian history than the average university graduate.  He couldn't get enough of the history of our great land.  This is all surprising given how hard his early life was.  My dad was never afraid to try something new, never afraid of failure.  For him, there were no failures - he just stuck at it until he got it and was quick to laugh at himself along the way.  I am ever so grateful that he passed this fearless love of learning on to me.  This, along with the ability to laugh, were his greatest gifts.  My dad taught me to love sports, a rare gift for little girls in the late 50's.  He also taught me to cook with fearless abandon.  For the rest of my life, every time I chop an onion and put it in a frying pan I will think of my dad.  This was always the start of a good meal.

My dad drank hard, sang loudly, laughed even louder and lived what he would describe as a pretty amazing life.  He was grateful for his life and had a healthy attitude towards living and dying.  His passing has reminded me to be true to who I am, to live life loudly and humbly, to tell a few good stories, to be ever curious and to embrace all that comes my way with a good sense of humour.  

You will be sorely missed Billy Brown.

Holding On To The Light

I love autumn, I really do.  I love the cool evenings, the morning mist over the fields, the honking geese and the open views now that the corn has been harvested.  I love leggings and hot drinks, soups, stews and warm biscuits.  But I am mourning the passing of the after dinner light. I will miss my after dinner bike rides and walks along our country road.  I was hyper aware of that as I set out down the road tonight.

The mama, papa and baby water buffaloes came out to tell me they feel the same.  And they were joined by all the critters in the hood.

It didn't take me long to figure out that my 5 km walk wasn't going to happen tonight.  The light faded quickly as I rounded the curve and headed over the hill.  Those fuzzy black/orange caterpillars were everywhere running to and fro.  The fro's were going to and the to's were going fro.  I often wonder what they think is on the other side of the road.

The crows have been busy! There are crushed walnut shells and horse chestnut carcasses all along the roadside mixed in with the dropping leaves, skittering across the road, stirred up by even the smallest of breezes. Snakes are on the move as well as can be evidenced by the flattened leftovers of the ones that didn't quite make it.  Slugs are just venturing out from the roadside, thinking they can make the big crossing when the evening dew shows up. There is still the scent of fallen, rotting apples when the wind comes from the right direction.

The colours are beautiful. The air is cool.  The sky is full of pinks and purples. We can see all across the valley.  In the background, even as the light fades, the farmers are at work and I get passed by tractors pulling flatbeds full of giant marshmallows.  Fall is here, I just hope it stays for a while!

 

Summer Gathering

We've been very careful during these covid times, especially since I got sick in May.  We missed a lot of landmark birthdays and have not spent the time together that we normally spend during the summer months. 

This past Saturday we decided to celebrate all 11 birthdays (we missed a #47), all together, in as safe a way as possible.  It seemed especially important as four of those birthdays were big ones (40, 40, 50 and 16). The families that stayed overnight camped in the back yard and all celebrations were held outside.  We have all been careful in our own little bubbles and felt safe spending the day in each others' company.  What fun we had!  It becomes even more important to us when we know that the kids and many of the adults will be returning to school in two weeks.  We feel nervous about what this will look like for our family as the kids and the teachers in our family will expand their bubbles significantly.  We do not anticipate another family gathering in the near future.

 

It was a beautiful sunny day and out came the bocci, ping pong, darts, spike ball, basketball hoop and baseball & tees, and of course the trampoline and new playground set Grampa just built.  There was a lot of playing, a lot of laying around, a lot of eating and a lot of laughing. The kids range from 2 - 16 and they all get along so well, bigs helping littles everywhere we looked.

From noon until the last ember died from the fire our yard was filled with all of the people and fun it was meant for.  When we bought this small home and large yard, this was exactly how we envisioned it all happening.  Our hearts could not have been more full.  The fire (and Bailey's) was the perfect ending to a long and happy day.  We could hear the giggles in the tents as the kids fought sleep.  Stories were told and stories were made.  This is what family is all about.  We will talk for years to come about the summer of 2020 when we celebrated all of the February - August birthdays in Gramma's and Grampa's back yard.