My Mother was always searching for the right skincare solution. Years of smoking, and in her younger days, baking in the sunshine, took their toll on her face. After she quit smoking her skin visibly improved. But she always hoped there was something out there that would restore her dewy, youthful glow.
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As a Stoic, it’s my goal to accept things as they come. That means not wishing away a flat fire or tummy ache or worse. Acknowledge the moment, deal with it head on. Notice that I said it’s my “goal”. As a typically flawed human being, it can take a little time for stoicism to kick in.
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My first husband and I moved back to Ontario from BC so he could take a radio job in London. I would be unemployed and look for work while he carried the load. Due to a miscommunication, he thought the salary number he was given referred to his monthly pay. We soon found out that the number meant annually, in the thousands. Not many thousands. It was a lot less than we counted on before packing to move across the country.
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We’ve lived in Port Stanley for 3 months. Three of the happiest months in a good, long while. We love it. This isn’t a complaint but an observation after doing our best to shop locally and talking to neighbours. Our town could use a few more businesses. I think they’d be hugely successful.
…Behind our house is a bunch of other houses. This is not a surprise! We’re in one of the “new build” areas in Port Stanley. We’re not here for a big lot and we don’t care much about the immediate view; the beach is a 10 minute walk away. Being a short distance from it is better when one no longer parties heartily. And we were spared the terrible flooding the village experienced last week.
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It’s one year to the day that cancer took our Mom. She was 80 and had been through a few years of treatments, hope, despair, pain, and ultimately, peace.
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The beginning of a new school year always makes me think of warm clothes like long sweaters and stiff cords. I remember an ugly belted sweater I wore until it practically disintegrated. And the sound of corduroys brushing against themselves as I walked quickly down the hallway at South Lincoln High School. You wanted to move fast because the Hare brothers, Craig Nelson and Jerald Collens were standing at the end of the hall. With folded arms they silently judged the girls rounding the corner to history class or the gym. You had to pass by, there was no way around it.
…London is the largest city in Ontario without a green bin program. “It’s coming later this year”, they say. Forgive my uncharacteristic cynicism but I’ll believe it when I see it!
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Today marks the 81st year of my Mother’s birth. It’s also 10 months less a day since she died.
…One day last week, after wearing ourselves out doing moving stuff, Derek and I flopped in front of the TV for some Netflix. I picked a documentary on Norman Lear, the creative genius behind the biggest TV hits of the 70’s; All in the Family, Good Times, The Jeffersons, etc. The doc is called Just Another Version of You.
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When you’ve moved as often as we have in recent years, you learn to temper your expectations. Live in the moment. Perfection is unattainable. Something is bound to go wrong. Roll with it or lose your stomach lining!
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Officially, we won’t be country bumpkins in three days. The big move-out is on Friday. Some straggling stuff will still need to be hoofed over to Port Stanley. But for all intents and purposes, on Friday we’re out.
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I was sorting through a couple of small containers of stuff I hadn’t dealt with in a while when I found the button. I’ve since thrown it out, but I recreated it for you above.
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Greetings my little dumplings! Yes it’s me, your friendly supermodel furball, Miss Sugar. I’m coming back out of blogger retirement to share the craziest story of my life (so far).
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I wasn’t his closest friend, nor did I know him the longest among our little group. About 12 years. But I want to tell you what I do know about our friend Louis Christian Charland who died suddenly of a heart attack today. (UPDATE: Louis did not suffer a heart attack. He had a bacterial infection in his heart.)
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It’s an indescribable feeling when, for the first time in your life, you won’t celebrate Mother’s Day.
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