My summer vacation: friends, family, and farts

Unintentional hiatus 

It's been almost a month to the day since I wrote anything that was for fun. Apart from my usual Facebook statuses (Bronwyn_MayB) I haven't put pen to paper (well, fingers to keyboard) to write my thoughts, my stories, or my insanity.

I did write a 60 page report for an Agency review. So, there is that.

But it just doesn't have the same feel. Or the same sarcasm.

They frown against that in the professional world. Bah.

Inspiration, but no time

I've been writing in my head the whole time. Brilliant and witty pieces about my life, my dog, and my house.  However, between the house guests, a friend's wedding, a week away, a visit with Grandma, and actually writing words about the research I've been doing for months, I haven't been able to share them.

Here are some highlights:

• My friend Jamie drove my father and my step-mom from Calgary to Regina and she's still speaking to me. 

• My dad stayed with us for a whole week and I'm still speaking with him

• My dad stayed with us for a whole week and The Guy is still speaking to me

Photo by Ky
Dad, Tanya, Lil E, and Monty

• My step-mom made the greatest borscht in history and I will eventually share her recipe here

• My sister came to visit me and we had all the fun

• I passed a group of pre-teen boys lined up along a wall and when they pretended I had farted I did not defend myself even though I was incensed! (Had I farted, I would have laughed uproariously because they were all sitting in prime fart trajectory)

• My closet was redone (almost complete) and the deck is now done (except for rails... don't fall) and someday this house will be done

• My sister Ky and I visited Grandma who knew who we were until she nodded off for 5 minutes. I'm not sure who was more freaked when she woke up thinking strangers were in her room!

photo by Ky

I'm trying to be back now. Writing more often and getting my life back on track now that I don't have 3,004,524 things to do. We shall see. I do have one main task to complete...

Napping.

My life in places: My first house

For most of my life, the only thing I ever really wanted was a house of my own.

Home

It wasn't about the picket fence and the family for me; a home of my own was about putting down roots. It was about taking something and saying "This is where I am."

I've always been a home-body. I would get homesick on sleepovers until I was a teenager. I needed that sense of security.

Stability.

My mom, my brother, and I shared that need. The rest of our family was happy planning for what strange land they would visit, while we wanted nothing more to be at home with the people we loved.

My mom and I spent hours going through magazines and the Sears catalogue cutting out pictures of things we would decorate with if we only had the money.  We wandered through the neighbourhood peering into people's windows for decorating inspiration (and sheer nosiness!)  We loved to see how others lived and talk about what we would have done instead.

For both of us, having a home where people could come and be themselves was top on our lists.

Let the rest of my family travel.  I want my own bed. My own bathroom.

When my mom died, I used my inheritance for one thing I knew she would understand.  A BRAND NEW CAR!!!!!!!

No, wait.  That's The Price is Right.

What I did was use a big chunk of it for a downpayment on a house.

Deciding to buy

My dad did what they always tell people not to do in the first few months of grief -- he made major life decisions.  He sold the house where he, my mother, and my sister lived and bought a condo.  My sister was suddenly homeless and our family had no centre.

I felt like I needed to create a new base to make up for the one we had all lost when Mom died.

So, you know, I made a major life decision.

I spent a long time looking for the house of my dreams.  I'm sure we looked at 20 before I found the one I wanted. I saw a lot of houses, but the ranged from the "meh" to the "ugh".

Finally, I walked into the house on Chinook.  It was very 70s and not the good retro kind. Old cupboards with older hardware. Wooden spindles creating room separation.  A backyard that was all garden (aka: a weed plot)  It wasn't much, but I knew it could be home.

I bought it and less than two months later was in the doors.

My very first house.  It had a ton of hydrengeas which I happily tore out.

Much to the dismay of everyone else in the neighbourhood.

My first home

My sister, Lyn, moved in with me.

We went to town picking out paint chips, deciding on room layout, painting, and decorating. I made a hundred to scale room designs complete with cut out furniture I could arrange and rearrange.

We started painting almost immediately and had a lot of it done before we moved in.

When the time came, I had a house that was almost totally me. I painted almost every inch of the house.

Of course, being the procrastinators we were (are), we decided to wait until we moved in to paint the kitchen a gorgeous cherry red.

In the 3 years we lived there, it never got done.

I left the paint for the next owners.

My living room: Eggplant on the main wall, Lilac on the other.  

I bought the blue furniture brand new and won a trip to Mexico.

Mine

I loved that house.  Every room had my touch (except Lyn's room... I wouldn't touch that if you paid me) and it all meant a lot to me.  I scoured books to learn how to do electrical work and I changed every outlet on my own.

I fixed things and built things and hung shelves and pictures.

It was exactly how I wanted it to be.

It broke my heart that my mom couldn't see it.  But, I was doing what she couldn't anymore -- I was trying to create a home for my family to migrate to.

My bedroom displaying my paintings and the plant I kept alive for 3 years.  

Thanks to Ky.  She watered it everytime she came to visit.  Once a month.

Despite all the trouble there was in that place -- a ever-renewing lake in the basement, an entire yard of weeds that were supposed to be a garden, the biggest lawn known to mankind -- it was my home.

I loved it.

Too much of a good thing

When my sister Ky moved in with Lyn and I, we were the happiest bunch of happies that ever happed. We were three sisters living the dream.

We watched a lot of So You Think You Can Dance and ate a lot of take out, but we had a great time.

Then one day,  the neighbours mentioned to me how great it was to see the place as it was meant to be.  They explained how three spinster sisters had moved to the house in the 70s and lived there until the last one of them died just before I bought the house.

I joined Lava Life the next day.

The rest is history.

Quilted wall hanging: the tutorial for those who don't know better

Many years ago, I wanted to make a wall hanging for a friend of mine. Yesterday, I found the pictures for the project, so thought I would make a little mini tutorial.

I decided I wanted to do the family's initials in a row. We had often joked combined they spelled KBAM! making them sound like a superhero fight scene. We had KB for the mom, A for The Boy, and M for The Girl.

It always made me laugh because it suited them all so much.

I started with colours I thought suited each one of them. (That, and I had these colours on hand!)

Red for the passionate and life-loving KB, blue for the creeping-nearer-manhood A, and purple with a little flower detail for the sunshine and giggles M.

I cut three 6X6 inch squares out of the material. I intended for the final product to measure approximately 5 inches of colour and then edging, so I gave myself some room. I wasn't particularly concerned about being exact.

That is usually my biggest problem.

I used a chalk to draw the pattern I wanted on each piece. I lined the back of each piece with a thick silver cotton and sandwiched a pick of quilting batting in the middle. Then I took to the sewing machine.

I'm pretty sure in order to do quilting in real life you are supposed to use pins and patterns and... you know, thought.

That's just not me.

I sat down at the sewing machine and went to town.  I'm very lucky it all worked out. Lazy waves for KB, straight lines for A, and a tree branch motif for M.

I am still alternatively pleased and shocked at the way they turned out.

Then, I moved on to the fonts.

I went old school and used Word to choose a font that suited the personality and the style I was going for. I blew the font size up to giant (that's the technical term) and printed it off. It was about 6 years ago or so, so there is likely some fancy way to do this now.

I am not that fancy.

I cut the letters out, laid them on the fabric where I wanted them and pinned them within an inch of their lives. I sewed the paper directly onto the fabric and then picked out all the little pieces with a stitch ripper.

DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT HOME.

It's not dangerous, but you will lose your mind.

I think if I had it to do all over again, I would trace the initials with chalk, but hey! Live and learn.

Please note my tidy and professional work station.

I then sewed the 3 squares together and realized I'd buggered up, so used the silver cotton material to make separations between the letters.

I love making things up as I go along.  A lesser person would cry. I'm just like - Now I will do this!!!

Who am I kidding? I probably cried.

I used the backing material to make an edging all around the outside and finish off everything. I then added a silver ribbon to hang it from.

It wasn't perfect, but neither is family. I think it pretty accurately described them, their personality, and the different ways they approached the world.

When KB moved into her "getting life back on track" apartment, she hung it front and centre on the entrance door.

I could not have been more honoured.

Our impromptu trip to the spa

This weekend was the weekend we were supposed to move into our new house. This was four months delayed from our signed contract - the "if nothing goes wrong" date.

Between delayed approval for plans, -50 degree C temperatures, absent plumbers, part time flooring guys, etc, etc, etc, we are a long way from moving in. The quality of the work is great, the timeliness? Not so much.

Remarkably, it still looks much like this.

When we realized we were (and frustratingly enough still are) not going to be moving in anytime soon and had booked holidays we couldn't cancel, we decided we needed to do something else.

We had a gift certificate to a Mineral Spa in a nearby town. We booked last minute for Sunday night - a jacuzzi room with a free breakfast and full use of the mineral pools. With my back trouble (especially how badly I wretched it last week again) and The Guy working hard and stressing about the house build, we needed the relaxation.

Our bed and complimentary robe

The only big surprise was that EVERYONE ELSE had the same idea. Every old person, parent with a child under 3, and stranger from another land had descended on the pool. I did run into a friend there, so that was a bonus!

We lounged at the pool for awhile, soaked our troubles away, and had the rest of the afternoon to while the hours. We wandered through the city and marvelled in the beauty (though - every store was closed!)

A beautiful staircase

I was captivated by this church.

We returned around lunch today and both felt better and more relaxed.

That was... until we went to the new house.

Best of: my favourite of the first 50 days #100happydays

In January, I began a trek into reminding myself what makes me happy on a daily basis. I'd had a rough fall, a worse winter, and then my best friend died. This has been my daily reminder that the world was not ending.

Now, things are on the upswing. I came back from stress leave to a new position at work that I love, a constant work schedule for the first time in 15 years, new learning opportunities, the house build on track for May 1, and The Guy moved to a normal work time. It's been a whirlwind few months and I still feel like my brain hasn't caught up, but I'm enjoying it.

I decided to go through the first 50 days of my #100happydays and show you some of my favourite pictures.

Day 1                                                                        Day 30

My two guys

Warmer weather and new booties make happy puppy!

It is fitting I started this adventure with a picture of my family. They both make regular appearances throughout.  The Guy is my rock and Monty is my comfort. Whenever a bad day threatens, one of these two will make everything okay. I could not be more thankful for them.

Day 3

Poolside Cuban resort

For many years, The Guy and I have travelled to Cuba with friends. This year, The Guy booked an impromptu trip for just the two of us. We lounged, ate, drank, napped, wandered, and relaxed. It was just what we needed.  For our first "solo" trip, it was a success!

Day 11                                                                       Day 31

Winter walk with Monty

Beautiful evening sky

This winter has been the coldest I can remember. With temps dropping to -45C without accounting for the wind (which brought it down to -52C some night) it was rare we could get outside. When we did, both Monty and I relished in the freedom and the beauty. Well, he had the freedom part anyway. I just revealed in the beauty the world has for us, even when it's frozen.

Day 15

A conversation with my brother.

This conversation with my brother has exploded to new heights of torture. I put this picture on Facebook and suddenly everyone in my brother's life started posting banana facts, banana pictures, and banana paraphernalia. It has been glorious. I'm sure he's going to punch me in the nose when I see him next, but it was worth it.

Day 18

I found this pic of The Guy and me in 2012
picture by our friend Denise

This picture popped up on my radar after 2 years and sent me immediately back to that night. A warm "summer" night in Cuba with friends, laughter, my love, and the most amazing city I've ever been in. I love me some Havana.

Day 19                                                                        Day 28

Group Sudoku challenges

Animal erasers for work Sudoku challenges!

At the suggestion of a new student at our office, the workers started to do one Sudoku challenge a night. We worked on it during our breaks and began cheering each other on, correcting each other's missteps, and bonding as a team like we hadn't been able to do in a long time. I love Sudoku for this reason alone.

Day 23

Finished my llama shawl today

I began this shawl in November and finally finished it. The yarn was llama wool from a local vendor and had been purchased for me by KB years before. I was working on it the night she died and she never even knew I had started it. I'm glad to have a physical reminder of the warmth and love KB had for me.

Day 25                                                                       Day 29

The colour palette for our house

The colours and tiles for our Master Suite

Day 36

New counters and cupboards for the house

As the time to move into our new place gets closer and closer, I am preparing for how I want it all to come together. We are getting to pick out things for the house - like colours and countertop - and I am in my element. The Guy has been smart enough to stand back and watch with amusement.  He gets the garage, I get the decorating!

Day 33

Sarah and I had fun at the Science Centre

My good friend (and once neighbour), Laura, and her little imp, Sarah, invited me out to the Science Centre for the day. I had not been in many many years, so I jumped on the chance.  We explored, we played, we laughed, we took pictures of dead mice.  A good time was had by all.

Day 40                                                                        Day 49

Kid in a box

Uncle will have a good helper at the new house

Lil E (or Elizabug) has been a big part of my happiness over the last 50 days. I try to take her once a week when I can so that I can get my baby fix and her mom can finish her dissertation. E and I take on the big city, walk the dog, play at the library, refuse nap time, and generally make fools of ourselves. She brings a joy to me every time. Even when she's grumpy.

Day 41

It would have been my mom's 65th birthday

It has been almost ten years since my Mom passed and this day would have been her 65th birthday. This was the last picture taken with my mother and, though she was very ill at this point, she would fight another 2 years to make sure we were all taken care of. I miss her every day, but I'm glad I had her for the time I did.

Day 43

New hair cut!

I had slipped into the trap of not taking care of myself. I finally decided enough was enough and went to get my hair did.  My hairdresser is a great man who is very knowledgeable about curly hair. I am thankful I found him! He and his wife just had another baby, so he was brimming with father pride. That kind of happiness is contagious.

Day 48

This encouraging piece of graffiti

There are few times that graffiti makes me smile and stop to take a picture, but this one did.  It put a smile on my face for the whole day. I think the artist would be happy with his (or her) efforts.

Day 52

Signs of spring: water channels

I know I said the first 50 days, but I had to include this one.  SPRING IS HERE.  Well, sort of. It has since snowed again and reverted back to winter, but for a few fine days spring was here. We made it.

I cannot tell you all what this project has meant to me. Somedays I didn't have time to take pictures or the thing that made me happy wasn't photographable, but to have the idea in my head to search for something every day that makes me happy has been invaluable.  I think when it's done, I may have to start again!

Check out my entire collection of #100happydays pictures.
Follow me and see them first hand on my Instagram page.

Our Cuban excursion

With the house build and career concerns, we didn't think we would be going away this year. That was, however, until it reached -55C and The Guy lost his mind. We got a great deal on a week at our favourite resort and off we go.

It couldn't have come at a better time. We've had two months of stress and worry and then I lost my good friend days after we booked. We needed a break.

Our view of the pool

It was the first time The Guy and I had travelled away for a week together with just ourselves. Normally (including on our honeymoon) we travel with a group.  This would be just us, a week, no distractions, and no one else to talk to. It was as enticing as it was intimidating.

My favourite view

We beached, we lounged, we played in the waves. We ate, we shopped, we drank Pina Coladas. It was glorious. We read, we napped, we went to bed ridiculously early.

Celebrating Cuba with cardboard decor

A friend asked about my favourite part of the trip this time. I admitted it was the fact I got to read 11 books (12 if you count the one on the plane). However, I thought later and it was the fact I got to reconnect with The Guy on a one-on-one basis. It was recognizing how lucky we are to have each other and to spend time together.

Mind you, looking through my pictures you would think the pelicans and cats were my favourite part. I took a lot of pictures of those for sure. The funniest part of that was I kept calling the pelicans "penguins" even though I knew it wasn't right. By the end of the week, The Guy was calling them penguins too. I like that even my bad grasp of words are contagious.

Hey! I'm WALKING HERE!

This might be my favourite picture of the whole trip.

You can see my entire group of pictures here at Flickr or here at Facebook you can see my favourite.

Have you been to Cuba? Want to come next time?

Thankful Thursday: Cuba version

I'm not back yet, but I know what I am going to be thankful for, so I will write this now and schedule it for while I'm gone.  Try not to be jealous.

1. It is not snowing in Cuba.





My beach



2. There are free drinks and no one judges my 10 am Pina Colada. It has pineapple, so it is a breakfast drink.
3. Time alone with The Guy maxin' and relaxin' by the ocean.
4. The pelicans and the guy who feeds them every morning.





Every morning, they walk up the beach following the guy who feeds them.

5. Limited risk of being glutened. WOO for no wheat in Cuba!!

I'll be home soon. 

Still taste the dolphin poop: Post from the past

I am in Cuba all week. Here is a story about my very first trip. Originally posted on Feb 5, 2008.
*************************************************************

I have never learned to swim. Never. Nothing more than a "from A to B" and only if I can touch the bottom at some time during the distance.

I am not afraid of water. I am afraid of drowning. But unlike many people, I can be in water and enjoy it. As long as it never goes above my chest. If I can touch the bottom and the water laps just above my breasts, I can contain myself and enjoy the crispness of the water, the way it slides and moves independantly. I can float and relax and let worries glide away from me as the water breathes.

It is when I cannot touch the bottom that the panic sets in. Instantaneously it grips me and causes me to see my life flashing before my eyes. My breath comes in shallow gasps because the water presses so heavily I cannot expand my lungs. The water, rising higher than my chest, acts like a vice and restricts my body from drawing breath of any sort. My heart rate increases to alarming rates and my heart beat fills my ears and drowns out all other noises. I flail and search for anything I can hold on to. My mouth fills with water and my sinuses burn. I choke and gasp and flail and fear I will not make it another second.

And then my foot connects with solid ground and I can slowly bring my breathing back to normal. I can focus and once again be alright with the water around me. But I never forget the panic.

So, imagine my surprise when I was in Cuba on excursion and was given the chance to swim with the dolphins. Normally, I am quite against it - fear of water or not. Dolphins are too intelligent a creature to cage and make perform. They are lovely and majestic and brilliant. But there I was. In the middle of the ocean. At a dolphin area built monsterously huge for the mammals to swim in. And I was given the chance to meet them.

The Guy knew I didn't swim, but I am not sure if he understood the extent of it. He agreed to hold on to me the entire time so I wouldn't be afraid. There were many others there with training and confidence, so it would all be good. And I agreed to go in.

I climbed down the metal rungs that led into the ocean. And after the last one, I knew I could not touch the ground. And panic set in. The Guy hurried into the water to assist me. I could hardly breathe, but I held on tightly to him and kicked with all my might to keep up afloat. I met the dolphins. I felt their cool, smooth and soft skin and patted their warm bellies. I was enamoured. Another traveller spelled The Guy off for a bit so he could rest up and resume his tight grip on my waist to keep both the panic and the drowning at bay.

In the end, I was as brave as I could be. And when I crawled out of the water, I cried.

Equal terror and joy

How Letterman became our family's Christmas symbol

For the first time in 10 Christmases, David Letterman will not be making an appearance in my house for the holidays. Why, you might ask, would David Letterman be in my house at Christmas? Well, I will tell you.

It all started 10 years ago Christmas eve. Our family was all home for the holidays and most had headed to bed for the night. My brother and one of my sisters were up into the wee hours as they often do. The later the evening got, the funnier everything was.

Suddenly, they saw the copy of the TV Times on the table. (It was 10 years ago, this was before the guide became extinct for all but my friend Susan's parents.) The cover of the guide was a picture of David Letterman.  Why? I don't know. Go with it.

The two trouble makers got an idea and ran to the kitchen for scissors and string. They cut out David's head, put a hole through his forehead (five-head) and hid him amidst the decorations on the tree. They wanted to know who would notice the disembodied head of David Letterman floating on the Christmas tree.  They went to bed, not with sugar plums, but with mischievousness dancing in their heads.

A sampling of David decorating

The next day they giggled to themselves as we had our Christmas celebrations. We had pictures taken of the family opening presents and enjoying the day. No one noticed the head. Once it was pointed out, we all laughed our faces off. It was the last Christmas we had with our mother and there was a David Letterman head in every picture we took.

We loved it and vowed to make it a tradition.

Since then, I have put David's head on every tree we've had. Last year, I copied the original, laminated it, and sent one to each sibling. It must have been fortuitous because this year, with all our belongings in storage, we aren't decorating for Christmas.

The tradition of the floating head of David will have to carry on somewhere else.

Until next year.