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Archive for the ‘All things good’ Category


A while back I bugged, cajoled, whined, and sucked up my way into ballet shoes. Which, let’s face it, I was perfectly capable of ordering for myself, but, it’s more fun when I can act like a cat and talk the hubs into ordering for me. Which he did. He also ordered me some soft shoes, in black and in red, which came in this week. I am so happy!
Last year, when I was first diagnosed with Sarcoidosis, a lot of things happened and not really any of them good things. My feet and ankles swelled, a lot. Walking was painful for a long time. I had to go on a course of steroids, causing weight gain (ugh, yes again) and then I had a second, and third bout with Sarcoidosis causing more medications, more weight gain, more places in my body it decided to rear its ugly head. At the end of the calendar year, I had permanent scarring in my lungs, asthma, and feet that never really did go back to their normal width. Which meant, that when these beautiful shoes arrived, they are all, every pair, a bit too narrow for my feet. I mean, I can wear them, but they’re tight. The old me would likely have crumpled into a diva-like state of woe. Not me. Not me today. I’m in such a good place in my life right now.
I made a joke to a friend of mine the other day about wrapping my feet in plastic everyday until they become narrower (don’t worry, it was a joke) but, the truth is, I’m just moving more. I’m dancing in my living room and my kitchen and all over my house. I’m singing out loud, sometimes beautifully, sometimes badly. I’m laughing. I’m having fun! I find that the more I move and the more I dance and the more I let go of negatives in my life, including negative people, the better I feel. The more I want to dance!!!
I will get into those shoes properly eventually. I will keep wearing them and stretching them out in the meantime.
And I will keep on dancing.

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I was 14, he was 15. The very first day we met, he kissed my hand, very Cinderella style. Little did he know he was kissing the hand of a hopeless dreamer. An incurable romantic. A girl who, even at 14, had learned how to exit the world of her reality and dwell in the world of books, movies, plays and music. My fantasy world was the real one in which I dwelt and the reality of school and homework and parents and such were just the nuisance that had to be endured between escapisms.
Our first date. How ironic it was to a movie. Escapism please!
We went to see The Little Mermaid. When it was first released to theatres (am I dating myself, much?). The song “kiss the girl” was the backdrop to our first kiss. He with his towering height and me with my fantasies and already I had us married off with kids and living in a far away land.
Cut to now, and we’re married with kids and moved provinces, so in a way, my 14 year old dream came true.
My number is inverted now. I’m 41. I still use books and movies and plays and music as a way to leave the trappings of the adult world, a world VASTLY more disappointing than I was led to believe as a child. Sure, I can eat what I want and go to bed when I want, but I also pay taxes and clean and raise children and have a job. But I have my dreams. Tucked away where I can call upon them when needed. I still read books and fall in love with the mythical worlds weaved for me. I even write books where I can bend the fantasy to my own will and whimsy. Songs still transport me and movies are where I give over my heart and soul to be drawn into another place and time.
So, it’s no surprise that when the live action Beauty and the Beast was announced that I immediately professed that I would not only see this in theatre, but that we would all go, husband, wife and the three children still remaining at home. No one minded. When your mother is a dreamer, she tends to influence her children.
The day approached and the closer we got, the more excited we became. The kids would frequently play the trailers on the internet and I, the eternal crier, would more often than not, feel my eyes growing hot with anticipation.

On Sunday we crammed our five adult forms into the car and drove to the theatre where Belle awaited. As we sat in a row at the back of the theatre, I leaned over to my husband and whispered “I love that 22 years of marriage later, you’re still taking me to Disney movies. Only now we bring our children.” He tried to pretend like that didn’t make him “catch the feels” too, but I know it did. He has been much more sentimental since his heart attacks.
The show started and transported is exactly what we were. My youngest, the 15 year old, 6’2 man-child sitting beside me, spent the entire show holding my hand, or laying his head on my shoulder, or hugging me. My girls sat at the end silently letting tears fall. The movie was perfection. It should be held up as an example of how to bring a beloved animation to live action. I won`t go into the details of the myriad of ways I loved it, because this post would simply be too long.
It was beautiful visually, artistically, musically and in it`s composition. The casting was perfect and I truly wanted to step through that screen and into Belle`s world.
We left the theatre that evening to go home to the world that we built. It`s warm, inviting and loving. It`s full of laughter, and yes, sometimes tears. Usually mine. It`s teenagers and adult children who still hug their parents. It`s kids who were brought up to love and to treat people with kindness and dignity and inclusion. With all the mistakes and pitfalls I’ve taken in my life, it`s my deepest source of pride to see the family that we built and what we`ve built it into. Even with my love for escaping through books and music and movies and plays, it’s still that Prince Charming of mine that I come back to.

And he still kisses my hand.

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I’m taking this weekend to work hard on Summer Poppies. It’s high time I gave it the attention it’s due. I’m not in a hotel, locked away as I used to do, I’m simply at home. Shawn has taken the teens out of the house for me and I am working along to the soundtrack of my childhood.

Seems only fitting since so much of this book takes place in Ireland. Writing this end to my series feels like completing a long tale that began the very first night I heard from my own father that his family got on a ship one day and crossed the ocean to come and live in Canada. A story that just a few years ago took me back to Ireland myself to see the home where he lived and the town he grew up in. My body was born and bred in Canada, but, my heart is Irish and always has been.

And now I’m going back to my beloved Siobhan, a character inspired by my own grandmother Lucy, to finish her story and to travel in my thoughts and my heart, back to Ireland again.

I hope to finish soon. Perhaps even before the summer is out.

I hope your own Saturdays are full of life and love and wonderful adventures, be them out in the world or in your own hearts and minds.

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My parents arrive tomorrow for a few days’ visit. I’m actually really happy to have them come. Because they are leaving in a few weeks for a trip back to the motherland. Ireland. And shortly after that, they are moving back to Ontario. Yeah. I have no idea why either. If my own recent trip back to Ontario taught me anything, it’s that I don’t want to live there again and I don’t know why anyone else would either after they’ve had a taste of life in, um, I don’t know, ANY OTHER PROVINCE. I take back ANY time I have bitched out here about traffic or construction. We have it easy. We have it super easy.

What I *did* miss was people. Specific people. My daughter. Oh lord Keisha you are SO beautiful you don’t even realize. And seeing you happy, full of energy, settled, you have no idea how much that made me smile. I think the last time I saw you in such a good place, you were about 12. Maybe. I’m so proud and I really wish we could spend time together more, but at the same time I’m happy to let you live your life and just…fly.
Best friends Alex and Greig. I have no words. Three years were like three days. Because we just fell right back into our wonderful ways as if no time had passed at all. God I missed you.
My brother and sister and the new baby. Yes, I have two other sisters in Ontario and I didn’t get to see either of them, but new babies win. Always. And Saoirse is a dream. My eighth niece (I also have three nephews) and I’m sure, knowing our family, that we’re not done yet. I mean, I am done, but I still have two unmarried brothers and Ciaran and Angela are newly weds, I’m sure they’ll have at least one more. I just love the babies. LOVE

One of my favourite visits of the trip was seeing my grandparents. I love how my Grandmother is still so full of joy and laughter. I loved making Grandpa’s eyes light up at new pictures of my kids, their great-grandchildren. I love their cozy home and I just loved spending time with them. I miss that, living so far away. I don’t know how many more opportunities I’ll have to do it.

So I came home, out from the (not even kidding) 40 degree heat, to a brisk 12 degree, cool Saint John day and promptly lost my voice. Total laryngitis. I actually could not make any sounds for three days and even now, I’m still scratchy.

June is not cooling its heels though, and we are careening quickly through a season that has left me emotional. Aislinn, our middle daughter, is graduating high school in a few weeks. I don’t know, I’ve been through this graduation thing before, but, on different scales. Liam finished the way I did, through correspondence. Keisha finished through an alt high school and I definitely remember her graduation ceremony, and how choked up I was sitting in the auditorium with Shawn watching our baby cross that stage to get her diploma. But Ash is the middle baby. I have a mental picture of my kids: the “older two”, Ash, the “middle child” and (much to their eternal chagrin that I STILL use this term) the “little two”. If Ash is graduating, that means that really, for REAL this time, they’re all getting older. I have one kid moved out, another on the cusp and now Aislinn making plans for moving on and my beautiful big family is shrinking.
Believe me, I do know that it will eventually get to the phase where it grows again when they all start making their permanent relationships and having their own families. But right now, I’m in the midst of the emotional roller coaster of watching them grow, and letting them go.

I’m feeling my age. I’m searching for a cure to that.

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Where did all the damn traffic come from??? Seriously? And I won’t even talk about the INSANELY aggressive drivers. No wonder we were always smoking and stressed out. Woah.
We landed yesterday morning at about 6:45am Ontario time, got Shawn dropped off in Brampton and then I went to Guelph to pick up our oldest daughter Keisha from her house and we zoomed 25 minutes north to Elora, my hometown. We walked around for about an hour, saw the house where I grew up and where she spent most of her childhood weekends and almost all of her childhood major holidays and decided that it had changed too much. The town, that is. The vibe was completely different. It no longer felt like home to me. So, we headed back to Guelph. As much as to beat the massive storm clouds as to go play around the other city I grew up in and where her Dad and I first met. We had a great time. We saw the high school I went to in Grade nine, both where it used to be and where they rebuilt it, the park where Shawn and I had our first kiss, his old high school, the hospital where my beloved Nana lived out the last years of her life, and a whole bunch of “places of interest”. Read: where all my teenaged shenanigans took place. The Guelph ones, anyway.
But the city has changed SO MUCH. At one point we were headed to a Walmart, which I distinctly remembered the location of, and she kept telling me to turn too soon. I tried to argue with her but, well, she lives here now, so I turned and there it was. Guelph had picked up the whole damn building and moved it. And painted it green! I told Guelph to go home, because it was (and is) clearly drunk.

We didn’t actually wind up taking a lot of pictures, though I thought we would, but, we were so in the moment yesterday. And dudes, she looks fucking amazing. She has worked really hard for the last year and has lost almost 80lbs and she just was so, so, HAPPY. I loved it.

We went out for dinner all three of us last night and finally Shawn and I got some sleep.
Today I get the morning to do just this: writing. First this post and then I’m working on my book again. (SQUEALS OF JOY) and then….
We’re off to Paris Ontario tonight to see our beloved friends and to go to the theatre. You remember my theatre days, right? Lord I miss that. The last show we ever did and by far my favourite was I’ll Be Back Before Midnight. Damn I loved that role. I played Jan. I got to go crazy, shoot a (fake) shotgun, cry onstage, kiss onstage, freak the fuck out on stage, go catatonic onstage and finally, murder my stage husband with an axe. It was awesome.
And Paris Performers are doing the show tonight. So we’re going to see it. YAAYY!!!!

Tomorrow we are going to meet our new niece for the first time, see my brother and sister in law, see my Grandparents and get ready for the early Sunday morning flight home.

I’m already sunburned (I had forgotten about Ontario heat, it’s going to be 40 today with the humidity), I’ve already laughed until my face hurt. I’ve already gotten emotional.

It’s been the best day so far. I’m looking forward to the next two immensely.

Happy Friday, all!!

Now I’m off to exercise my fingers and work out what’s going on in Summer Poppies. I’ve been working on this book for Four Years. It’s time I get serious with it again and wrap it up.

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It’s been three years since we moved from Ontario to New Brunswick. And that last year in Ontario? It was ROUGH. Three years and although Shawn has returned several times (for work) I have yet to go back, even once.

Back when Shawn had his heart attacks, a situation presented itself for our oldest daughter to go back to Ontario to live. She wasn’t doing well out here. It’s hard. She was out of high school, not in college or University yet, had a part time day job where she worked with people my age and there is NOTHING and I mean NOTHING out here for late teen/early twenties people to do. She was drowning. So she left. Smartest thing she ever did. She went to live with one of my sisters first. She was even able to come home for Christmas that year. She tried a break for independence by taking a nanny position, but, in a very scary two weeks we realized that they had totally bait and switched her so our oldest and dearest friend Randy went and got her and took her in. She lived with Randy for nearly a year, moved to Guelph where my amazing cousins took her in for a few weeks and now she has just moved into her first place all of her own. I’m so proud of her it’s practically bursting from me. But all that moving meant that last Christmas she couldn’t come home so I haven’t seen my daughter in a year and a half.
And finally, I’m going to see her.

The SAME EXACT DAY Shawn had his heart attack, my parents sold their house in Ontario. The one they had lived in for over 30 years, the one we all called home and came back to as often as we could for holidays or visits. It’s where we spent our last night in Ontario before the move. I have been told the new owners are wonderful, but of course, they wanted to make the house their own. I’ve been told there have been changes. On my trip back, I plan on driving out to Elora, my hometown, to see them. Take a walk around old haunts.

I also plan on going to Cambridge to see my old house there and hopefully, thank Randy in person for everything he did for our girl.

And then….KITCHENER because my brother and his wife Angela had a baby girl. I am DYING to hold her, see them all, hug them all and most importantly hold that beautiful baby. I’m going to drive by my sister’s old house. Maybe take a drive through my old park. All the memories, the good and the bad, have been spilling through my mind ever since I booked the ticket.

If you’re a long time reader of the blog, you know that I love theatre and used to do quite a bit of it in Ontario. My last show there was undoubtedly my favourite. “I’ll be back before Midnight”. God I loved that show. Creepy and awesome and I got to play a neurotic woman who loses her mind. Well, our best friends in Paris Ontario are doing that show and, of course we’re going to go see it with them. And then, epic awesomeness will ensue as it always does with our friends the Grahams.

In many ways, this trip, only three whole days long, is going to be exhausting. In many ways, it’s going to feel like going home.
Until, I have no doubt, that moment on Sunday when our flight lands once again in New Brunswick and we drive home, past the rocky hills, the lakes and rivers, into the valley where we live in a place that looks like Algonquin Park only prettier. Where I’m still not used to the stunning views and the sight of the sun setting over the KV river making the water look like it’s on fire.

There is no question Ontario will have its moments where it feels like home. Because most of my life was there. And you always feel like “home” when you see family.
But my heart has shifted, ever so slightly, and my real home is here. Ontario, now, is a beautiful memory. One I’m very excited to revisit.

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Sunday mornings are my favourite. We sleep in, the kids sleep in and the house is pretty quiet. Everyone seems to have that cat in a sunbeam contented air to them. It’s wonderful.

Shawn and I have a king sized bed. That’s not a vanity-based thing, or a “hey – look at me with my big bed” thing, it’s practicality. Shawn is six foot five. I’m five eleven. Neither of us is at our fighting weight from high school anymore. We need a big ass bed. And I love it. We also don’t share blankets. We tried once, back in the golden days of newlyweds, but we’re both simply too big of blanket hogs and it’s never really worked for us. So, he has his set, I have mine.

But, on Sunday mornings, mine or his gets tossed aside and we cuddle up and get silly. Talking, laughing, tickling (I love/hate the tickling) zerberts (or raspberries) on the bellies, teasing, more laughing, loads more talking. It’s fantastic. Whether it goes on for fifteen minutes or an hour. Sometimes the kids will come in and sit on the bed and talk with us, or, call us lame for the loud shrieks of laughter that woke them up, but I know that these are the noises they love to hear.

It wasn’t so long ago that we had forgotten how to have fun in our marriage. Back in 2012, it was a different story. Oh sure, we still talked, we “communicated”, we even had sex, but we had forgotten to have FUN together. Just us. In all the changes that have happened in our life since then, it’s one of the things I feel the most blessed about. That we remember how to play.

Think about those early days in any relationship. You’re happy all the time so everything is funny and wonderful and new and you can’t get enough of one another.
But then you develope roles. Work becomes important because it’s all one big conveyor belt taking you from each milestone to the next. The kids become the main focus. Jobs become the main focus. Sick parents become the main focus. All of a sudden you’re in a marriage where the relationship in your life, the one you chose, is so far from the main focus that it becomes blurry. Do you turn to one another? Sadly, a lot of us do not. We go to our friends, our co-workers and we talk about how bad things have gotten, or how lonely we are. But we’re forgetting the fun we had with our partners. And it’s understandable. After all, life has changed so much and in order to maintain and sustain our “lives” and lifestyle, that we’ve turned that into the main focus.

Now, for half of couples these days, that usually ends up in divorce. Or separation. Or infidelity. Even all three, though not necessarily in that order.
For us, we had to go through some huge, life changing upheavals in order to see that what we were truly missing out on, what we really were taking for granted, was our relationship with one another. So, we started dating again. But, even that can pose challenges, especially when you’ve pretty much run the gamut of what’s accessible and what’s affordable. For instance, I would love a date to Italy, or back to Ireland. Shawn would love a date weekend on a boat or a helicopter tour date. But, these are out the scope of our current reality, so, we go to dinner.

But those Sunday mornings. That’s what I live for. We spent a half an hour yesterday morning wrestling around being silly about who had to go get coffee. Eventually of course, we got up, got dressed, got ourselves coffee, but, the memories, including the touch memories, stayed with me all day.
We spent our day doing different activities in different parts of the house and with different kids, but, there was playful communication all day long. Never once did we pass one another without a kiss, or a touch or a prolonged hug. He called me beautiful, on several occasions (and y’all, it was Sunday, land of the sweatpants, so that was REALLY nice to hear). I told him how much I appreciate him. In short, it was a day full of love languages. Which concluded the way a weekend should, in a long standing marriage such as ours.
Curled up together in bed, connected, in our separate blankets of course, binge watching a Stephen King series.

And now it’s Monday morning. Shawn is at work jumping in and out of meetings, spilling coffee on his shirt and texting me to please please bring him a new one. I am on my last day off of leave after my diagnosis and treatment for my extremely swollen feet, which now look less like hobbit feet and more human again and our worlds are back into ticking along on the cogs that we have set them into.

There will always be meetings at work and kids to take to lessons and university scholarships to apply for. There will always be budgets that need to get set and groceries that must be shopped and bills to pay. And bills. And bills. We both have chronic health problems now (yay us!) and will need to take all our meds properly and keep our appointments with our respective specialists. But by god there will always be time to play and be silly.

Because if you can’t laugh with the one you love, well, you’re just missing out on the best thing in life.

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