1980 - Something

Picture it.

The Christmas mixed tape is playing on the home stereo with the same songs I enjoy to this day; Jim Reeves, Buck Owens and The Chipmunks. Dad is bringing all the decoration boxes from the basement. In the box there’d be some miscellaneous newspapers from Christmases past which always mystified me. We assemble the Christmas tree and Dad strings the full size string of lights carefully on each branch.  The sky is a rose gold in the setting sun, the snow outside is light and sparkly and there’s the faint smell of the heat from the lights touching the plastic branches.  They don’t make candles to recreate that festive smell do they.

It’s nineteen-eighty-something and completely magical.

There were some Christmases that we had two Christmas trees.  We had the artificial one in the basement and a real tree upstairs.  Dad’s brilliant trick to filling in the bare spots on the real tree was to take a branch from the bottom, drill a hole where the bare spot was and attach the branch.  It’s a trick I think he got from my Grandpa.

The decorations were a mixture of shiny baubles, felt ornaments and things we made. One decoration was always a small bell with a blue ribbon that I think had something to do with my brother (his birthday is Christmas Day) but I don’t know what.  There was silver garland and not tinsel because that was too messy.  The tree topper was a multi coloured star.  At the bottom of the tree rested a small plastic manger scene.

Some years Dad would want to hang streamers and foil stars from the ceiling. Mom would protest…”what are you doing that for?”…but often let him get his way.  There’d be a wreath that hung on the back door window that made the curtain puff out kind of funny.

My fuzzy Christmas stocking would rest on the arm of the couch. We didn’t have a fireplace or chimney. I hoped Santa had a key.  

It was probably a Sunday evening in December and when we were done we’d sit in the dark with just the retro glow of the Christmas tree and soft music playing. The next morning, getting ready to go to school, the tree would be lit up in its comforting glow in the coolness of winter. 

Everything would be ready and waiting for Mr Claus’ annual visit.

Advent Adventures 2023

Every company seems to have an Advent Christmas Countdown Calendar of some kind these days. I really enjoy finding out what little present lies behind each window leading up to the big day. So what calendars did I purchase for this years holidays? Read on!

The first calendar I purchased was from The Body Shop. I had gotten one last year and it helped me to relearn how to relax and take care of myself. As with everything the prices have gone up and this year I purchased the smaller version. It’s called The Advent of Change and comes in lovely blue packaging. The display isn’t as stunning as the larger version but the smaller rings in at $95 CAD. I purchased it back at the end of September and used my birthday rewards coupon for it. It says it’s a value of $181 so we will see when I get to start opening on December 1st. 

The second countdown calendar I got was from Bird and Blend. I TOTALLY splurged on this and for those reasons I’m not going to include all the extra fees I paid. As well I had ordered the Halloween countdown at the same time so charges were a bit more. I LOVED this one from a few years ago. The packaging is 100% recyclable and very festive. The main Tea Advent Calendar is priced at $49 USD. However, the one I purchased was specially curated for the tea lover and Bird and Blend customer. It’s called the Ultimate Tea Lover’s Advent Calendar and lucky comes in at the same price of $49 USD. They also have a Matcha calendar!

That was going to be it, but just this afternoon I found a coffee 12 Days of Christmas. I purchased the Grove Place Market keurig cup coffee countdown at Peavey Mart for $18.99 CAD. It does not appear on the Peavey Mart website but similar boxes seem to be available elsewhere. The cashier said they were also waiting on a hot chocolate one. 

Okay, but what about your husband? You can’t forget your husband! 

Right you are. I have found 2 calendars for him this year. The first is the Walkers Shortbread calendar which is a 24 day countdown. I originally ordered from Tea At The White House but they sold out twice. Since I’ve been informed it can be found at London Drugs and a few other retailers. I spent $40 but apparently they can range in price. 

The other countdown I got for my husband I stumbled upon. I bought it at Canadian Tire for $24.99 CAD.  It’s the National Lampoons 12 Days of Jelly Advent Calendar.  We had the Bonne Maman calendar last year and really enjoyed it. This quirky calendar has repeats, comes with a knife and I’d say the packaging is a real “beaut”. 

There you have it. My countdown extravaganza. 

Only 6 days to go!

Merry Christmas

Before we all get super busy with our Christmas celebrations, I wanted to take a moment and thank everyone who has followed and read along with my posts over the last month or more. I’ve received some very nice comments and appreciate the conversations. 

I had wanted to share a few more things, but our schedules get so jam packed this time of year so those memories and stories will have to wait for another time. I will do some follow up posts about my advent calendars, which I loved and which I thought were the best for my money so stay tuned for those.

I plan on keeping up this blog now that I’ve attracted you all here but if you’ve found yourself here from ABC Football and wonder where that talk is, don’t fret, I fully intend on getting back to that site as the CFL season ramps up for 2023. 

I hope you have a fantastic Christmas shared with those you love and you get a moment to rejoice and marvel in the glow of the lights, bask in the sounds and immerse yourself in the delicious smells of the season. 

In the Still of the Night

During the day there is noise from the tv, noise from Renter Person's tv, and Brandy's collar jingling along with outside sounds and all sorts of other things.  Around midnight a certain stillness comes over the house.

It's quiet.

Electronics are turned off.  People and pets are sleeping while some are snoring.  

Not me.

I sit in bed with a mug of hot chocolate, usually candy cane hot chocolate from the nearest Bulk Barn, and I read.  

Sometimes I just listen.

When it's really really cold like it was last night.....the wind chill was -45 degrees Celsius.....you can hear the crunch of the snow under the tires of an approaching vehicle so clearly you could swear they're coming right into the room.  The furnace pulses on and off.  The house gently creaks.  In the distance of the kitchen, the fridge hums.  It's a midnight symphony.

It's peaceful.

There are no worries after midnight.  The days stresses melt away like a marshmallow in the hot cocoa.  I sink into the story of the book I'm reading.  It isn't Claire and Jamie anymore, but Barnaby and Hooker.  It might be an adventure or romance or mystery and tomorrow it might be a different book entirely.

Brandy stirs on the bed and looks up to see if I'm still there.

I check the clock and yawn.  Time to sleep.  I set the book on the nightstand and turn off the light. 

I sink into the blankets and fall asleep to the still of the night.

Hope in a Jar

Have you ever heard of the face moisturizer made by Philosophy called Hope in a Jar? Well it is the name of a great cream.....I know because I use it. It made my skin feel good and soft and didn't make it all slimed up like some of them do. So when I saw a book called Hope in a Jar written by Beth Harbison I knew I had to read it. Of course, I thought that I would write a review of the book and in a way this is a review but the subject matter has changed from the story to how the it taught me a lesson just at the correct time in my life.

Allie joins Weight Watchers to take off the 20 pounds she's put on while being in an unsatisfying relationship. The torture she goes through while trying to avoid the scale is real – I know, I've felt the exact same emotions when weighing every Monday. But nothing is like the very first time, when you've sucked up everything you've got and removed every spec of clothing down to the earing's [because they too weigh something].....and you get on and you face the truth. I always squint. Somehow, if you narrow your eyes or glare at that bathroom demon.....it just might not be so bad.

Back.....several years ago, I had a flimsy scale with a dial. I could fudge my weight back then. If I hung my toes over the edge I weighed just a tiny bit less. It really didn't matter so much back then.....I did weigh less. Now, I have a digital scale. It is impossible to fudge the numbers. It is exact. It tells you right down to the ounces. It can even tell you your body fat if you want it do. Why would you want it to? As if finding out what you weigh isn't already bad enough. If it doesn't tell me what I want to hear.....I threaten it. I tell it I'm going to toss it out into the snow and drive over it with my Honda.

It's a love/hate relationship. I am thankful when it tells me I weigh less. So happy that I do the 'weight loss happy bathroom boogie'. But beware, if you find some broken bits of glass and metal in a snow bank in the road.....you'll know why.

The summer between grades 11 and 12 I worked at McDonald's. I ate there during breaks. I packed on weight at lightening speed. That autumn, I took up stationary bike riding and calorie counting. The extra 40 pounds came off quickly and easily. After I got married I again began to have a weight issue. I adopted the fashionable fat-free diet plan and re-bonded with my bike. I lost weight again quickly and easily.

After that, weight started to creep back on. Why? I was so tired of the battle. I was exhausted from having to work out all the time. I was sick of worrying about every spec of whatever I put in my mouth. I was angry at not being able to enjoy life. So I checked out.

One day in 2008 my sister-in-law talked to me about trying her program. You may know this part of the story and how I was to able to release 100 pounds. But what you may not know is that many of those old feelings resurfaced. Why is this last bit so hard to lose? Why do I have to watch so closely what I eat? Why do I have to try so hard? Why can't I just have that donut when I want one?

Because I can't.

I just CAN'T.

This is where the book becomes so important. 

 

Allie says, “I have to work that hard and that's all there is to it.” 

 

This is just the way it is. It comes down to this. If I want to live a long, happy, healthy, active life.....this is how I have to do it. I can't wonder about the other stuff. I can't dwell on what I can't have. There isn't any Hope in a Jar for weight loss. The hope comes from inside me. I am the jar.

The Girl Who Didn't Write a Review

Karl Stig-Erland Larsson (15 August 1954 – 9 November 2004), who wrote professionally as Stieg Larsson, was a Swedish journalist and writer, born in Skelleftehamn outside Skellefteå. He is best known for writing the Millennium Trilogy of crime novels, which was published posthumously. Larsson lived and worked much of his life in Stockholm.

He was the second best-selling author in the world in 2008, behind Khaled Hosseini. By March 2010, his Millennium trilogy had sold 27 million copies in more than 40 countries.

But those are just the facts. 

I started out attempting to write a review of the movie The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo which I watched Friday night. I had heard so much about it and was pleased to see it come on right after the news on my free movies on demand channel. The movie is in Swedish and I was somewhat curious as I have family of Swedish decent. I was thankful for the subtitles even though at first I found them difficult to read just due to lighting and I found myself wishing they were larger. Someone with a vision impairment would have definitely had a problem keeping up with the movie. With these thoughts in mind I knew I needed to do a review.

Yet, this morning, I realized everyone already knows about these books and movies. Some have read them and watched them. But what do we know about the author? He seemed like an intriguing fellow and that's when I was prompted to look him up. 

Stig was a journalist so was used to writing I suppose. The interesting part is that he kept writing in his spare time. When he'd come home from is daytime job he'd write for his own pleasure. He was very much like you or me in that aspect. We blog or jot notes or even just doodle. What I find most interesting is that he died of a heart attack before anyone ever knew of Dragon Tattoo's or Hornet's Nests. He had only halfheartedly pursued getting his work published and it wasn't until his death that the manuscripts for his work was found in a trilogy with clues as to the intention of writing at least ten books! It is the first 3 books which we now have in this world with a partial manuscript owned by Stig's friend. The works have won several literature awards in Sweden and no doubt will continue around the world.

So, I sit here with a work of my own. I've been writing for well over a year and some of you know I've become stuck at a certain point. Reading about Mr. Larsson has made me think how wonderful it would be to see my own work come to light. To just finish it would be huge reward.  Everyone has a story and I want to make sure that mine gets put down before someone can come along and find those first 13 chapters.....with 3 alternate chapters [because I can't quite figure it out!] and wonder what could have been. 

What else do we leave unfinished? We won't ever know the rest of Stig Larsson's stories but we can finish our own. What do you want to leave in this world? 

Live without regret. 

Finish your story.

Love Affair

Your heart pounds as you hold it in your hands. The excitement is unbearable. Its exhilarating. The cover is hard and shiny as the light of your nearby lamp glances off of it. It's unblemished and perfect and it's never been opened and it is all yours. 

 

It emits a groaning noise as you bend back the cover for the first time anxious for it to expose all its secrets.

No one else has ever caressed the pages.

The pages.

They smell fresh unlike those from a library that have the musty old odor. No these are clean, unbent.....no corner damaged, torn or folded back. The words swim in all directions and you are eager to soak them in. You thirst for the knowledge you hold in your hands. 

You gently turn the first pages and gaze at the contents. You wonder at the mystery that the names of the chapters hold. What will happen this time? You guess at the plot but know that you cannot possibly tell the outcome. For a fleeting moment you think of turning to the end. No. You decide not to. Why ruin it for yourself? Then quickly you turn to the last page to glance at the last sentence.....then slam the cover shut. You cannot know.....not now.

You gingerly go back to the beginning. Perhaps there is a preface or dedication that your eyes can dance over. Then you turn to Chapter One and the words spread effortlessly through your open mind stirring thoughts much more meaningful than “On a dark and stormy night” could ever provoke. I'D NEVER GIVEN MUCH THOUGHT TO HOW I WOULD DIE. They are the words that keep you going.....soaking more and more in until you almost cannot take anymore.

Its late and you know that you shouldn't read anymore. The digital clock tells you what you don't want to know. You need to put it down.....you need to let it go.....you need to sleep. You play the game. I'll read just one more chapter and then rest. But when you get to the end of that page you grieve for more. Then realize with dispare that the clock is correct. Reluctantly, you close what has become your best friend but not before tenderly placing a marker between the pages.

In your dreams the characters come to life and act out the story before you. They bring life to the words that you only just imagined. It plays out in your mind over and over.....your own personal movie. The actors are nameless with only the names from the tale to remind of who they are. They are real. You feel like you know them.....they are family.

You go through the motions the next day. Your thoughts always racing back to the story and where you left off. How could he do that to her? You thirst for the feel of the paper in your hands and count down the hours.....minutes until you can sit alone by your lamp taking in all the wonders the binding has to offer you.

At last you reach the end. You sigh as you plunge ahead. The last words echoing off the page. “And he leaned down to press his cold lips once more to my throat.” You are left dumbstruck. Its over, but you are wanting so much more. Somehow it makes you feel whole and clears out the fog at the same time. You are once again exhilarated. Wanting. Yearning. 

And plotting your next trip to the book store.

Memories of Pee Paw

~My Coffee, My Book and Me~

By Sandi J. Holland

A misty, rainy morning and

it's back to bed for me,

My coffee drips invitingly,

My current book lies dog-eared

at stopping place,

from last personal quality time.

What else can I do

but plump my pillows

and climb in?

You would too.

With hot libation,

and mental laxation,

peace is mine.

Today was Victoria Day. The long week-end that so many look forward to. It's a land mark holiday. We made it through the winter. Spring and summer are here....it's time to get away. Mother nature has played a cruel trick. Thursday was HOT. 26 degrees Celsius. Friday was COLD. It even snowed just north of here.

We were going to garden this weekend. We did visit a few greenhouses and purchase some plants. It was too miserable to be outside. It was dull. Overcast. Then lastnight....rain....all day today....rain. We stayed indoors.

I was surfing the interweb when I found the poem. Instantly, I was taken back to a few years ago. It was May, when Hubby, Puppy and I escaped the city for a week to Pee Paw Lake.

Pee Paw Lake is not a touristy place, in fact, it's just a little blurb on the map. Once upon a time there was camping and picnicking, but the fire places and picnic tables have now been removed. Back then, they thought cabins could be built there. Friends of Hubby's family, the Anaka's, moved in what was a church and converted it to a cabin. They have prime property overlooking the lake. Over the years, they've constructed sheds, a deck, fire pit and of course the necessary amenities. They said no other cabins could be built there. So there sits in the woods a little cabin on Pee Paw Lake and our home-away-from-home for one week in May two years ago.

When we arrived for the beginning of our holiday it was HOT. I remember wearing a sleeveless shirt and shorts. We sat on the steps of the deck, taking it all in. The silence, the rustling of the leaves on the trees, and the chirp of a squirrel off in the distance. I don't know how long we sat there, drinking pop and eating Spitz. Listening and enjoying.

The next day we awoke to rain. "No matter," we said and we relaxed. Hubby made breakfast of bacon, eggs and hash browns on the cook stove. The cook stove like a pioneer would have used. It had to be stoked with wood. There were two cooking temperatures...blaring hot, and off. Hubby would be hot and sweaty in the kitchen area trying to cook and it would heat up the cabin.

We'd sip coffee and gaze out the picture window to the lake through the haze of rain. I'd do word searches in a book I bought special for the trip. When I got tired of that I'd read. There was only a radio for outside contact. We would listen to GX94 and the news. In the evenings, we would make a fire and I would read to Hubby.

Hubby has always poked fun at my books and I can see why with titles like the Fudge Cupcake Murder and Death of a Domestic Diva. Because there was nothing else to do Hubby was captivated by the stories and more so than I thought.

At lunch one day, Hubby says breaking the silence and totally out of the blue, "Lisa did it. I just know she did. She's the murderer."

I was totally taken by surprise.

Brandy~Puppy the Super Dog was in doggie heaven at the Pee Paw cabin. The dining room table, and I use dining room loosely, was right beside one of the 6 beds. She could stand on the bed with her back legs and have her front paws on the bench at the table. Who needed to beg when she was front row centre? 

There was one day during that week that we were asleep more than we were awake. We slept WAY in, got up to eat brunch, had an afternoon nap, got up to eat supper, had another nap, read a little and then turned in for the night! Now that is total relaxation.

We spent a whole week tucked away in the woods in the rain. We could have even stayed a couple more days, but then thought better of it when we realised the drive out might be muddy and slick. Everyone thought 'how terrible that you got rained out'. But really it was the best vacation we'd ever had.

Situated away in the forest on Pee Paw Lake was our slice of paradise. Something we hadn't planned on, yet something so perfect and wonderful. A unique memory brought back to me by this poem My Coffee, My Book and Me.

Life is Like a Jelly Donut

"The way I see it, life is like a jelly doughnut. You don't really know what it's about until you bite into it. And then, just when you decide it's good, you drop a big glob of jelly on your best T-shirt."

~Stephanie Plum~

 

Doesn't that just about sum it all up? It has for me this week anyhow. There you are going happily along and WHOOMF it's all messed up. Stephanie Plum has lots of these days. Stephanie Plum is a character in a series of Janet Evanovich novels. I am a big fan of mystery books and who-dun-it crime shows on TV, but this one takes the cake...er..um, doughnut.

I am addicted. It happened innocently enough. It was recommended to me that I read Visions of Sugar Plums. I did. I was hooked. Captivated.

Stephanie is a bounty hunter, although, as she admits, not a very good one. In her previous life she was a lingerie buyer for a department store. She's newly divorced and has a pet hamster, Rex, for a roommate. The new men in her life are Joe Morelli [a cop] and fellow bounty hunter Ranger. So there's this fascinating love triangle thing that goes on.

Stephanie has a problem with cars. In every single book her car is destroyed somehow. Blown up. Set on fire. Spray painted. Smashed and shot at. It is so much fun to see how it's going to happen in the next book. 

Stephanie Plum always manages to find herself in trouble. Or trouble finds her. Her apartment is always being broken into. She's always forgotten her gun at home in her cookie jar when she needs it. And just to top things off, her family is about the craziest one out there. 

I have been reading this series since January. Stephanie has become a friend. Confidant. There are thirteen books and I am on the tenth, Ten Big Ones. I've read the eleventh one, but just because it was only $6 at Costco! Don't hate me for reading them out of order! The realisation has set in that soon I will be at the end. What will I do without my nightly reading of Stephanie's capers? I will have Stephanie Plum withdrawl. I will have to join Stephanie Plum Anonymous. 

Don't worry, friends, I will persevere. No doubt, while I wait for the next novel to be crafted, I will find yet another author who I will become hopelessly obsessed with. In the meantime, send all your jelly donuts this way and keep writing all those fascinating Blogs.