Hockey in Canada is BIG (case ya didn’t know). This week THE HOMESTEAD was all abuzz as my oldest niece on Sunday won Gold at the Women’s Hockey Association Provincials’. Dang, it’s for me beyond words and I’m so incredibly proud. With stick in hand, this young girl defends the line for her team. Watchful, patient and determined, she is a true team player. For … Continue reading Growing Up With A Stick In Her Hand
My sister and I are as different as night to day. She is 5 years younger than me, and the story goes that apparently Mom after sex had to stand on her head in order to get pregnant. I came too quickly, and Lex they had to perform a circus act to prompt out. And today nothing has changed. She still resides in the small … Continue reading Of Two Sisters
Out my window everyone is all rush, rush, rush…go here, go there, rush over there, than back home. I watch as a carousel of humans stream in and out of the bank parking lot, which constitutes my view. It’s a rainy Saturday in The Village. As I sit here writing this, all I can think about is… “I don’t want to go out in that“. Ugh … Continue reading On This Rainy Solstice Day
We are different, my sister and I, but we’ve grown together over the years. It’s funny how time, space, and shared loss, and at one point or another, you find she has become essential. No longer the annoying hunk of flesh that your Mom’s loins disappointingly gave forth, but the voice on the end of the phone who knows all the essential details of your stories. … Continue reading My Sister and I
Last evening, once I had written my post, and settled down from yesterday’s ordeals…my sister calls… gotta listen to this song she says. [featured photo is me and Mom – c1970 – I was 3] Earlier she had done my, hit random and ask your question to the music “thang”…and this is what it gave her ~~ Coldplay’s latest album ‘Mylo Xyloto’ released in 2011 … Continue reading Living Amongst Gravestones and Ancestors
The Homestead has a new addition…her name is Stella. She is a 16 week old bundle of puppy goodness…with gigantic paws, and gangly legs. She is a hybrid/mutt…part this part that…just like her golden cousin, Irish. With her long legs, and her big, ol’paws, to say she looks awkward is an understatement…and of course as cute as a button. From her puppy dog eyes, down … Continue reading Stella, the Black Irish Lass~y
I’d come home from high school, and I’d often walk in to Motown blaring in the basement, and there she’d be, dancing away. Often doing the Mash Potatoe, or some other complicated thing I could never really master. My gawd, could that woman kick it. Tomorrow is the anniversary of her death. All Hallows Eve, when the veil thins, is a time of year that … Continue reading My Momma Liked To Dance
When my sister and I were growing up, every few years we’d go down and visit our Dad’s family – Grandma & GrandpaN, CousinC & UncleN, and AuntJ, supported by a whole cast of other characters and cousins. It was quite the experience to journey down into the heart of the Old South. There is a vibrancy & simplicity in many areas of Eastern North Carolina. … Continue reading Honouring the Mud Duck with a Roast
“GREGORY: Did you ever notice how we don’t tell family stories anymore? MONA: What do you mean? GREGORY: Families used to be made up of stories – their history – and those stories were told down through the generations. It’s where a family got its identity, the same way a neighborhood or even a country did. Now stories we share we get from television and … Continue reading Things My Mother Said
In 1909, three brothers got together (one of them my 4th or something Great Grandfather), and decided to have a picnic. The next year, 1910, there is a photograph of the Clan all gathered. In that year it went from a simple picnic, to a Reunion. I guess they had so much fun at the first, they decided to make it an annual event. And … Continue reading The 104th Clan Picnic
My Dad, what can I say about my Dad. He’s from the south – born in North Carolina. He came up to Canada in the mid-1960’s to work in Tobacco for the summer, met Mom, and as they say “the rest is history”. I’m not going to write some post about how horrible my Dad is, cause that’s not it at all. He’s good at … Continue reading Why I hate Father’s Day Cards
Well, now, I almost hate to say it, but I swear these girls are just wrecking soccer for me. I mean, I am not one for sports. Really. However, I will watch Hockey, like a Leaf’s game and every now and again the Stanley Cup games. Tim and I actually watched the whole series the year Boston won in 2011 (and I had to go … Continue reading Why I Am Not Watching My Niece Play Soccer Tonight
Those boards have heard many a tale. I have sat here, cried here, said goodbye here. On that porch we all stood looking up at that gigantic full moon, ringed with a golden halo, the night Mom died. All silently lost in thought, gazing up at that moon. Remembering, and feeling like she was almost standing there with us. For this was her porch. It … Continue reading This Old Porch
by PaulaB 