Things have stories, memories attached, bits of, scraps of, little pieces of our life. Of ancestors, voices from our past whisper, happy or sad, I love things that have a rich provenance. I suppose it grounds me, tea towel in the wind I once could be, or so mom always said. Continue reading Tales Of A Hoosier
Dear Paula, And well you should be. You have plenty to be grateful for, Paula. Besides the obvious, your food, shelter, and job… you have a family, friends, and hope. That, my dear, is precious. It is fascinating that with age comes a kind of wisdom, born more from experience, than intelligence. Also, a particular compassion. I found that myself. At about your age, come … Continue reading Take It From One Who Knows
Rare are those moments we spend, on our own, listening. The rain had fallen, the Poet arose, He pass’d by the town and out of the street, A light wind blew from the gates of the sun, And waves of the shadow went over the wheat, And he sat him down in a lonely place, And chanted a melody loud and sweet, That made the … Continue reading That Poets Song
You are finally seeing that the world doesn’t pay as much attention as you might think. I know, I tested that out at an early age. In order to break the rules, first, you must learn them. Of which I am proud to say I gave you in spades, in terms of those social graces. After you’ve mastered the social graces? Wear what you want, … Continue reading How To Stage A Decorus Rebellion
Your generation is far more in touch with themselves than we were. Young girls today have choices ahead of them, that I would imagine can be overwhelming. Certainly, my generation of girls was never a very active bunch, in terms of sports. It was frowned upon. Those Great Granddaughters of mine are becoming such strong, capable young ladies. Hockey was a good choice for them, … Continue reading And The Earth Under Our Feet
Your Mom heard me, just that once. Could only utter a word, so I choose her name. I could say no more. I figured every child wants to hear their Mother’s voice, just one more time. Continue reading Straighten That Crown
Perched at the bar, tippy toes gingerly resting on the only remaining rung on the stool… of course the last. One hand clutching this glass of badly poured Guinness, waiting on the big giant head to settle, so I go back to pretending to give a shite about the Hockey game on the TV. I wonder now if running away back home was the best … Continue reading The Buck Stops Here
So Mom… I’m having one of those days. Heck, truth be told it’s just been one of dem weeks. Between this and that of daily life, anniversaries, schedule changes, life changes, weather, ugh… I’m a weary soul. So I’ve found myself holed up here within my abode obsessed this week with a PBS series on African-American genealogies…it’s so very intriguing. I hear these stories, and I see … Continue reading The Butterfly Effect
“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
I believe in many impossible things. And it all stems back to two of the most defining films of my childhood. I remember coming home when I was maybe 5 turning 6 years old and I had just seen Bedknobs and Broomsticks, with Angela Lansbury, and I was enchanted. I have this vague memory of sitting in the theatre, mesmerized. The other movie is Mary … Continue reading Broomsticks & Umbrellas
This year I feel my GrandmaD’s presence. I see her subtle influence so often of late. After Grandpa died, and she became a widow, she changed. She would only wear the colours black, white and red. Sometimes maybe a beige top every once in a while in the summer … but normally just the basic black, white and red. Shoes, tops, pants, socks, the whole … Continue reading About A Woman Named Millie
As I’ve mentioned, or maybe not, our family has always had dogs. One of my favourites, maybe THE fav, was Goober. He was a Weimaraner. Not a champion example of the breed; he was a bit too gangly, bit too sway in the back, ears too big, just not top in his breed. But to me Goober was beautiful. He was a graceful, elegant soul. … Continue reading Goober & I
I first heard this story after the wake for Grandma, back at the farm. It is one of my favourite memories because it was the first story I remembered hearing of Grandma as a young girl – to me she was an old woman. That storytelling at wakes is a family tradition. I’ve found out so much, such different things, at those family gatherings. Continue reading Sisters, And The Stories They Tell
by PaulaB 