Gratitude 2016

In 2015 created 365 small challenges for myself to complete over the year.  By this time last year I was panicking and frantically trying to complete as many of the "outstanding" challenges as possible.  I was also fretting about how I would find the time to come up with 365 new challenges in such a short time.    That is when inspiration hit and I decided to do a gratitude journal for 2016.  The goal was to find at least one thing that I was grateful for each day and write it down.

I must admit I started strong and often did not have enough space to write about all I was grateful for that day.  As the year progressed my writing got bigger and sometimes there was only one thing I was grateful for each day, but the point is there was always something written.

It seems I picked a good year to start my gratitude practice as a lot has happened over 2016 that has left people hungering for it to be over.

Me?

I am sitting back relaxing, sipping on some hot tea revelling in all the small wonders and magnificent things that have give me hope and helped me stay positive throughout the year.

I will not bore you with all 365 days of gratitude but here is a sampling of some of the unique things that made me grateful this year......

I am grateful for:

• Blue skies, crisp air, snow covered hills and the sun.... the glorious sun! 
• Starry nights and dogs that already know how to walk and ones that are finally learning the word heel.
• Ferg hugs and kisses and great conversations with my siblings.
• Wonderful and caring co-workers.
• Matches and windows (one of the dogs left me a pootacular surprise).
• Whatever caused the Viking kicker to miss his field goal attempt which allowed the Seahawks to continue in their Super Bowl chase.
• Heated seats and goose down mitts on a cold blustery winter day.
• Time to tidy and clean the house.
•  Gravol and Tylenol, without which I would have had a long painful day.  
• Stolen moments cuddling with the dogs.
• Stackburger take-out.
• The restorative powers of lying in bed reading, with the dogs cuddled close.
• Lazy Sunday mornings spent in PJ's.
• Fast simple meals..... PANCAKES!
• Getting to spend one final night with Vivian (cat) and that she crawled under the covers and poked me in the armpit like old times. 
• Post winter walk hot chocolate.
• Neo Citran and the bed to myself.
• Late morning starts and early bedtimes.
• Family and friends who let me vent and provide encouraging words. 
• Warm houses on extremely cold days. 
• Sunbeams, warm blankets and afternoon naps.
• Sunny driving days that inspire the planning of road trips.
• Elliot Lake days at work.
• Days that are done and awaiting beds that heal all wounds.
• Puppy frolics
• Jam busters and memories about donut days.
• Ferg injuring my left not my right hand.
• Impromptu lighting storms
• Reuniting a dog with its owner
• Evenings that remind me how blessed I am.
• Harry Potter and restorative sleep.
• Holding my tongue and not telling others to Fuck off.
• Not breaking any bones when I fell down the stairs. (Sadly there were two of these types of entries in the journal.  One would think I am clumsy). 
• General slothfulness
• Camping dreams
• Chicken jerk tacos at the Fireside in Elliot Lake
• Sharwarma and visits to MEC
• Peeps who offer to pick-up the dogs from the kennel, so I don't have to wait another night to see them.
• My Dad and his vast knowledge
• The entertainment I have watching the changing light patterns on the back of my eyelids when I close my eyes.
• Multiple years watching Canada AM.
• Teenage boys calling my Miss.
• Rainy days that don't make me feel guilty for being a sloth.
• Short relaxing moments eating cinnamon buns at the St. Joe's Island rest stop.
• Being sorted into Ravenclaw on the Pottermore website.
• Pictures from Norway that allowed me to have mini vacations at work.
• A fantastic OT team. 
• Kids that would rather work with me than go on a field trip to see the Firemen.
• Ice cream celebrations.
• Surviving the mosquito hoard at the Sleeping Giant
• Tea and late night chats with Mom.
• Texting with friends I don't get to see often.
• Mr C said he wanted to stay with me forever and for Mr. H hugs and kisses.
• Getting unlost in Minnesota.
• Mom's saskatoon pie.
• Being able to retrieve my "bear" hanging rope from the tree when I accidentally threw the whole thing up.  
• THRIVE day
• Brisk breezes and meditation in the secret grotto.
• Epihany's about life.
• The feeling of ahhhhhhh when I walk into Staples.
• Deciding to sleep vs Fit Bit.
• Listening to nephew's laughter on the phone.
• Stinky moats of lavender and mint that repel things the squeak.
• Brightening the day of someone who's day had not been spectacular.
• Ice cream when camping, warm fires and pleasant conversation.
• Getting to attend friend's weddings.
• Catching up with high-school friends and the feeling that time had not passed.
• Ferg hugs while I drift off to sleep.
• 10 hours of sleep. 
• Sage advice from the Management team.
• Books to read while waiting for insomnia to pass.
• Sometimes mistakenly writing greatful vs grateful and how for the laughs it brings me every time I see the mistake.  
• All the generous people in my life.
• Mystery trails that lead to magical spots

Looking back through the journal I would hazard a guess that the things I am most grateful for are: the dogs; my bed and pharmaceuticals (Tylenol, Advil and Neo Citran ) as these were all mentioned multiple times over the year.

Can't wait to see what type of gratitude 2017 will bring with it. 

Curiosity Did Not Kill the Cat.... It Made the Cat Excited and Resilient!

Chances are if you asked my family to describe me in one word the descriptor they would use would be snoopy, especially if you are asking my mother.  I prefer to think of myself as naturally curious.  I like to know things..... knowledge is power and there is no better power than knowing what you are getting for Christmas.

Christmas past:

I really have to thank my mother for taking my "snoopiness" at Christmas time to a new level.   

Mom was getting tired of our childhood game of trying to guess what was in the packages and of our "accidental" tears to the wrapping, trying to get a glimpse at the present or the box to get further clues as to what was inside.      In an effort to quell our desire to find out what our Christmas presents were, she told us a story about how one Christmas she opened up all her Christmas presents and rewrapped them.  Now the part of the lesson that she wanted us to focus on was the part where her Christmas was ruined, as she had no surprises.  Sadly morale of  the story was lost on me.  I was stuck on the beginning part of the story..... "Ingenious!!!!! I never thought to open up the presents and then rewrapping them!"  

The gauntlet was thrown and the challenge was accepted.  Did I have the skills to unwrap and rewrap presents undetected?????   My mind immediately switched into planning for the next time I was left unattended and had unfettered access to the presents.  

Unlike my mother, Christmas was rarely "ruined" by knowing what was in the boxes under the tree... it was heightened.  I couldn't wait to open the boxes containing my new "preciouses" and play, play, play.  

Gone were the days of spending weeks guessing what was in the box and hoping I was right.  I would still guess but then I would open, verify and stew until I could open it again on Christmas Day.   

Now don't be thinking the wrapped presents were the only thing that as unsafe in the house.  If you did you would be wrong.  See my all time favourite thing in the whole wide world was to ferret out where my mother stashed the presents before she could wrap them.   This was my skill.  I was the Present Bloodhound.  There wasn't a hiding space that was safe, which in someways was an advantage for my mother.  

My mother is a little paranoid and she is also a little forgetful.  She likes to stash things all over the place but then forgets where she put them and sometimes that she even purchased them.  I am a natural seeker and finder, so in some respects she should have spent her time praising my abilities vs trying to curb them.  

There is only one time where my curiosity and skills lead to disappointment.  

I was doing the pre-Christmas rounds of all the usual hiding spots when I came across a new hiddy-hole and in it was the most beautiful Starter Seahawks sweater.  My breath caught in my throat and my heart was ready to explode.  It was the best present, ever, and it was going to be mine.  I visited that sweater everyday and tried it on at least a few times.  I could barely contain myself.... I was so excited for Christmas that year.  I counted down the days until I could wear my new Seahawks jersey out in public.  The parents had really out done themselves and I couldn't love them more.

Christmas day came.  The sweater was not in my pile of Santa presents, which could only mean it was in one of the boxes under the tree.  Box after box was opened and there was still no sweater.  My confusion grew.  All the presents were opened and there was no sweater.  What the hell happened?   I looked under the tree and behind the furniture thinking the box was misplaced.  No box!

Then I started to panic.  What if Mom found out that I had snooped and found the sweater.  It would be just like her to return it as a lesson/punishment.    

NOOOOoooooooooooooo!

I rushed downstairs to the hiddy-spot, filled with angst that my fears would be true and the sweater would be gone.  

I approached with dread, but was elated when I saw the familiar blue of the sleeve peaking out from the items laid over top of it.  

Now the tricky part.... how do I bring up that I know about the sweater without giving away that I was snooping?

In the end I figured the penance I would have to do for being snoopy was less then my overwhelming desire to own that sweater so I approached my Mom and asked her about the sweater.

At first she looked a little lost "Sweater?  What sweater????"  With her memory jogged, she exclaimed "Ohhh I forgot I bought that!!!!!  Where is it?"  I brought it to her and she promptly gave it to my brother.  

It seems this mecca of a gift was not mine after all it was intended for him the entire time.  

The disappointment is still vividly close to the surface, even today.  

Needless to say my brother was extremely excited.  I sulked for the rest of the day and cast him dirty looks every time he wore "my" sweater.  

So kiddo's if this inspires you to unleash your inner curiosity, just make sure you only fall in love with presents that are not intended for you.  

Christmas Present:

Flash forward to Christmas 2016.  Long gone is my need to open presents before hand.    I find I can contain my need to know for at least a few weeks.   This year I open up the present from my parents and I was perplexed.  There were all these random pieces and I could not sort out what the hell it was.  Based on the sewing related material I deduced it had to be something to do with sewing but what?

Here are the pieces I received... let's see if any of you know what it is?

The pieces

The pincushion part

Through fiddling I matched the Velcro to the Velcro and figured out part of the present was a pincushion but I could not figure how the bag played into it.

That is when I got curious about the base and opened it up to explore it some more.  Low and behold I found money.   My Mom had sent me Pounds for my trip to Scotland.

When talking with my mother I thanked her for the money and had to ask- "What is the other part of the present?".  

My mother's response-  "How did you find the money??????  You are soooooo snoopy!"  That was promptly followed by-  "What do you mean you don't know what the present is?  It is a thread catcher!!!!!!  You commented that you wanted one for Christmas when you saw mine in the summer!!!!!!!!"  

The Thread Catcher!

Okay audience-  confession time..... I vaguely recall seeing my mothers' in the summer.  I recall commenting it would make a good present and that it was neat.  But I must have been having an out of body experience because I don't recall saying I needed one.  

Now my mother was irritated with me as- I did not remember asking for one; for the fact that she worked hard to make me this "perfect" present that I could not remember asking for it and because I ruined her grand moment...... that moment when she could say-  "But there is more!  Open up the base and there is a little treat in there for you."  

Oops!

Don't worry Mom the whole thing was a surprise to me, wrapped in a conundrum and now that I know what it is I will use it with pride.  

Hmmmmmm.... A Collection of Random Thoughts and a Story of Terror!

I have been lacking inspiration to write about lately, so I have avoided the computer...  other than the basic necessities of looking up must know facts on Google and checking and rechecking Facebook.  Sadly I have been killing a lot of time on Facebook.  It has been the time-suck of my vacation.

Sorry!  Just got a little distracted.  Gimli was barking at Ferg.   A high pitch bark every two seconds is his distress call and usually means Ferg is being annoying.  I went to investigate, only to find that Ferg had Gimli trapped on the stairs.  It didn't make sense to me as to why Ferg thought Gimli needed to stay standing on the stairs,  but apparently it made perfect sense to Ferg.  A look of chagrin and a finger point made Ferg back off and Gimli was then free to use the stairs at his leisure.

Walking back to the computer I noticed how slippery my new "too cool for school" socks are.  Well it didn't take long for me to start experimenting with trying to further the distance I could slide down the hall.  The dogs, worried for my safety, tried to block my run/slide path, but I got around them.  My absolute glee at sliding started freaking Ferg out.  He was running behind me panting up a storm.  What I was doing didn't make any sense to Ferg, but it did to me!!!!

I finally put a halt to the sliding fun, for fear Ferg was going to take me out.  I could vividly picture the awkward conversation I would have to have with emergency personnel.  "What exactly where you doing when you dislocated your arm???? Sliding down the hall in your socks?????  How old are you again??????"

Now I am back at the computer and am still stumped what to write about.  If you were here in the room you would be treated to some delightful humming, as I have an irritating habit of making up tunes while I think. I even made some tea,  hoping a hot beverage would stimulate my brain, but nope... nothing... butkiss.

Hmmmm......

Hmmmmmm...........

Oh! Hot off the presses.  Did you know that "True Dat!" and "Good times.... good times!"  is cool again!!!!

I know....... RIGHT!

I am just waiting for "like" to come back in style.  Like, it was totally awesome when, like, that was all the craze.

A friends' teenage daughter was catching us "old foggies" up on what is hip and coolio at the Christmas dinner table.  As soon as the words true dat were out of her mouth I had an instant flashback to a trip I took to New Zealand with a high-school friend in the early 2000's.   She went to present at a conference on her PhD research, I tagged along for the fun.  There were many good times on the trip and the phrases "True Dat" and "Good Times, Good Times" were used a plenty!  



The good times started as soon as we got into the airport.   I was a little disorientated, what with the limited sleep and time zone change.

When  discombobulated I do very weird and random things.   All I remember is walking past a phone and receiver flying out of the cradle to land harshly on the ground.  Looking sheepish I picked up the receiver from the floor and  looked to the left then the right before placing it inconspicuously back in the cradle.  Unfortunately "the exploding phone" incident did not go unnoticed.  It caught the attention of a fellow traveller  and he felt compelled to come over and start talking to me.  He then offered to split the cost of cab with us.

Me- Vanna Whiting the phone number.
It doesn't happen often, therefore had to be recorded for
prosperities sake.

Bonus.  (I love saving money).

I remember him asking us if we were on a holiday break from school.... it made me laugh as I was quickly approaching 30 at the time.  He must have enjoyed our conversation and my ability to make phones explode as give me his number..... you know.... in case we wanted to tour a sheep farm during our stay.  

I wonder what I did with that number??????

The next day had us hightailing it to the rendezvous spot.  See Moojio and I had signed up to do an overnight back-packing trip in the mountains.  This adventure started out rocky.  None of the participants had any gear (we thought it would be supplied).  The side door of the van that was transporting us kept randomly popping open while we were travelling at highway speeds and doing hairpin curves.  Just a smidge nerve racking when you are sitting adjacent to the offending door.

We finally arrived at the trial head and the first .2 km were fantastic then it went to shit pretty fast.  See no one had told us about the river crossings.  There were no bridges.  Nope in New Zealand to walk through the rivers that are raging with spring run off from the mountains in the middle of a downpour is I guess an everyday thing.

You are probably thinking.... "You had to cross a river.... big deal.  That was exactly what I thought at first.  "It's an adventure."  "You got this!"

The group took off our shoes and socks on the edge of the river and took the plunge.  Sure we couldn't feel our feet after the first three steps, the rocks under our feet were slippery and the water was up over our knees and there was a very fast current.

No biggie!  We made it across!  We were victorious!!!!!!!

Conquering the river made me feel ready for more adventure.  What else could this mountain trail throw at us?

Well we found out after six more steps... ahhhh another river to cross.... and another one... and another one... and another one.   If I remember correctly- 27 crossing in total.  The water level rose with each crossing and constant rain did not help lessen the force of the river.  At one point our guide.... who was fresh off the plane from England!!!!!... told us that we should undo our hip straps at the particular crossing as the water was up over some peoples waists and there was a risk we could be sucked into the current.  He told us to stay together as a group and if someone fell in they were slip their arms out of the pack straps and the next person in line was to grab them.  The group was working our way around the face of a cliff clinging to rocks and hoping for a positive outcome.  I was concentrating on staying with the person in front of me and not falling in the frigid water when I glanced over my shoulder and realized that there was a very large gap between myself and the next person in line.  

Some of the river crossings to give you an idea

SHIT!!!!!

I was doubly nervous now that my safety net was gone.  I am happy to report that we all made it.   One of the members came very close to falling over the edge of the waterfall that we had to traverse, but thankfully one of the people close to him was quick and pulled him to safety.

There was joy and jubilation when we reach "the Hut" which would be our home for the night.  This should be the the spot in the story where I am reminiscing about finally feeling safe and warm.... but no!  I had a new fear.

Fuckin' possums.

New Zealand is great!  There are no poisonous snakes.  No predatory animals that might eat you or eviscerate you and leave you for the dead.  But they do have possums.  Possums freak me out.  Really anything that hangs upside down and above my head freaks me out..... bats, sloths...  I have the hee bee gee bee's just thinking about it.

Anyhoo, I am unpacking my bag and getting out my sleeping bag when one of our group comments-  "Ohhhhh cute.... look it a possum!  Look it wants to come in."

There was a myriad of thoughts that flashed through my brain as I stood frozen to in place.  There was only one door in and out and the possum was in my way.  I frantically start looking for another exit.  I was dancing around and my panic was starting to overwhelm me.    What if it gets in..... what if it touches my head..... fuck..... Fuck.... FUCK!!!!.

The views totally made it worth it... even with the possums

Under my breath I am muttering-  "Close the door!  Frickin' close the door!!!!  Dear Lord in Heaven make them close the fucking door."

They did!  Crisis averted....... until I had to pee!

The hut did not have a washroom.  You had to walk about 300 yards back down the trail to the outhouse to relieve yourself.  I tried to hold it, but by bed time my bladder was about to burst.  I donned a headlamp and headed out into the night.  I would much rather have faced a bear or a cougar as my foe.  Why did it have to be a possum.  I scanned from left to right before it sunk in the possums would be in the trees and if I caught the glint of the eyes hanging above me, there would be no hope.  I would pee my pants where I stood.

I did what any self preserving person would do.  I pointed the beam of the headlamp straight at the ground and started talking "No possum... no possum... no possum... no possum".  I kept this mantra going through the long walk to the outhouse.... the whole time in the outhouse.... through the minute and a half that I needed to brave opening the outhouse door  (fear that there would be a herd of possums waiting for me on the other side had me momentarily paralyzed) and during the long walk back to the safety of the hut.  I escaped unscathed.

The next day the Guide would point out possums in the distance. I looked him in eye and said "That is a feral cat (another thing New Zealand has)!"  He started to reply-  "No"  when I cut him off.  "We will just say anything that comes out of the bush that is not a bird is a feral cat.  That is the only why I am keeping my sanity."  There was no further mention of possums.

Good times.... good times!

Just think there could be possums lurking anywhere out there!

Epilogue-
Last night I started watching a movie that was recommended to me "Hunt for the Wilderpeople".  It was filmed in New Zealand so the recommender thought I might enjoy it.  There I am sitting there la de da de dah watching when all of a sudden there is a dead possum.  Ahhhhh!  The flashbacks started.  In total there were three possum carcasses in the movie and too numerous to count possum pelts.  By the end of the movie I was a little on edge- what with all the surprise possum sightings.

I turn out the lights and lay there trying to put the possums out of my mind.  They kept prying their way in.  I kept trying to replace "the image" with something else.  I lay there drifting and dozing trying to expel possum thoughts when all of a sudden there is something warm, soft and furry grazing my leg and foot.  I scream and kick- thinking it was a possum (New Zealand possums are very soft... a story for another day).  As it turns out it was the poor cat.  The one time he does not announce himself when jumping onto the bed and he gets nailed.  The poor dude!

If you need me I will be at my possum survivor support group!

It's a Dog's Life.... The Waiting Game!

This post is written entirely by Fergus, the youngest of the furry herd.  The poor dude has to exercise his patience on a regular basis therefore I thought it would be fitting to let him "write" the end of week blog.

"What the hell time is it?????? Where am I?????"  Friggin' Bill (the last remaining cat) and his need to announce that he will be gracing us with his presence.   Does he not realize that it is 3....AM!  What a bastard!!!!!   You would think he would know by now that all it does is get "She With the Three Mouths" bitchier than bitchy...... 

Yup!  

He succeeded.  Three Mouths is swearing and locking  Bill out.... banishing him downstairs, yet again.

Sigh!!!! Can't a dog get any peace and quiet?  I can't wait until I am Gimli's age and my hearing goes.  He seems to be able to sleep through anything and everything unless it is the food dish being filled.  

Nappy time is claiming me again........  Ruff!

My Puppy senses are a tingling..... yes siree..... Three Mouths is stirring.

Yippeeeee!!!!! We are getting up.  It's morning!!!! Outside.... outside...... OUTSIDEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mmmmm the smells!  It snowed overnight.  Ohhh Chloe's been by..... and Russell that scamp!  He always leaves the bestest peemail messages.  

Drat!  Three Mouths is bellowing at the door.  Guess I need to cut my exploration .... what's that????  Must check it out!  

Ohh shit Three Mouths is counting.  That is never good... better saunter over to the door before she puts her shoes on.  That is NEVER a good scene when she has to come and get me.

Oh..... oh.... ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Three Mouths is getting dressed.  

She is getting dressed.  

She has on her pants...... there's the top......

Fudgeoo I know what is happening........

yes..... Yes........YEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!

Sweet Mother of Pearl we are going for a walk!!!!  

A WALLLLKKKKKK! I think I might pee myself..... 

Wha! 

Where is Three Mouths going.  She is heading to the green room.  That's not downstairs.   Now she is stroking the beast in the corner and it is now making beeping noises.  It seems happy to see her.  

Cute Beams on High!

Three Mouths won't even pay attention to me.  She is intent on stepping up on the beast.  

Stop..... stop....STTTTOOPPPPP!

She's done it!   She is walking on the beast.  

Uhhhhhhhh HELLOOOOOOOOO!  

It's called outside!

We can all walk and you can delight in telling me everything that I am doing wrong..... you know our schtick!  I run ahead and pull your arm.  You scream "Tooo far" and I jump back and try to take your legs out from under you...... Good times,   good times.

Seriously!  What is so good about walking on the spot.  I tried it!  I didn't care for it.  There are no fresh scents to explore.  

BORING!!!!!!!!  

Hmmmm.....  maybe if I sit here really cute and patient Three Mouths will realize she is wasting her time on that elliptical thingee and what she needs is to be outside. 

Hello dejection my ole' friend

COME ON #@%$#@!!

Nothing!

I am bring full on cute and not even a glance!

UNACCEPTABLE.

If you need me I will be sulking in the corner.... not that you care!  

I shouldn't have peaked.  

She doesn't care..... I will die alone... there will be no more peemail for me...... my life is ruined......RUINED  I say!

The beast has quit beeping!  Holy Lord..... Three Mouths is stepping down.  

Whoot Whoot!!!!!   

I love you.  I love you, I love you. 

Now that's what I am talking about!

Ummmm do you not see my belly.  A little less stretching and a little more petting.  

PET ME!  NOW!!!!!!!!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........ belly rubs are the bestest of bestestes!

Three Mouths!  Did you know that you are sweating?  Here let me get that for you!  No I insist.  Hold still you are making it near impossible for me to help you get rid of those glistening beads of salty yumminess!

Geez' you would think that Three Mouths doesn't care about grooming and appearance the way she is trying to avoid me.  Pushing me away..... trying to turn my head..... telling me to "Leave it!".  

Ohhh Three Mouths you are soooooooo very funny!

Salty!  Me like!

Okay.... walk time!

WHAT in Golly gee wilikers is she doing.   

A SHOWER!   

HELLO!!!!  

Why do you need one of those.  I just groomed you my dear!  

Paw to forehead!   

I give up!  I'm going back to bed!!!!!!!!!

I say good day to you Three Mouths......

Why do I even bother to get out of bed?

I said good day!

So long my peeps! May you have greater luck than I getting walked today.

Pablo Pavarotti....... I Am Not!

Hmmmm, decided the best way to continue with my morning of energization (yes, I am making up words now...... sometimes the dictionary just doesn't have suitable options) is to rip off a quick blog.  I have been leisuring for a week, so have had ample time to blog, but I just could not find a topic that would hold me at the computer for longer than a minute.  That was until divine intervention hit..... Christmas carols.

AHHHHHHHHHH SUGAR FUDGE NUGGETS!!!!!!

I just managed to spill steaming hot tea down the front of me.

HOTTTTTTTTTT!

Side note- searing liquid burning into your flesh is definitely a jump starter to the day.  I think I even did a little jig.

So anyway back to the regularly scheduled blog.....

Back in the day, the Graphic (local newspaper) would print a song book that contained every Christmas Carol that was ever written.  I lived for the annual delivery of this insert.  See what was a mere collection of words on paper, for most, was a symbol of hope for me.   I intuitively knew this book of song had the potential to be my salvation..... a way for me to fulfill my life long dream of being in the school choir.

Ohhh yes...... the school choir!!!!

The hippest of hip were in the school choir and I desperately wanted to be part it and the choir crowd.    My desire to be choir member was so strong I forgot that I had perpetual social anxiety, did not like to perform in front of others and had an overwhelming fear of not being good enough.    If I was a member of the choir I could be anyone and do anything.... I would be invincible!!!!

Each Fall I would sign up to audition for the choir, with the hope of hope, that this year would be the year that I would be selected.  I vividly remember my anxiety building as I awaited my turn to audition in the hall.  The long, long walk from the door to the piano.  My anticipation  and burgeoning anxiety growing with every step I took toward the piano and Mr. Chen (the music teacher).   What seemed like an eternity of waiting for the introductory chords to "Land of the Silver Birch"- the choir audition song, to be played.

Each year I would launch into song, inwardly praying that this year would be the year that I would selected to be part of the choir.  Each year I would be crushed when I would look at the list and my name was not on it.  It seems my musical abilities were an acquired taste.  Even my poor mother could not handle my melodic interpretation of the hits of yesteryear.  Too often I would hear- "Who is killing a cat!!!!!" when I was "practicing" for my audition.

What could a young girl do?

My desperation and desire were too big and my vocal talent too small.

That is when it hit me.... what I needed was a Christmas miracle.  Everyone knows that magical things happen during the Christmas season.  It was time that I claim some of that magic for myself.

Enter the Graphic Christmas Carol song book.

Every night after the song book arrived until Christmas Day I would set the stage for my Christmas miracle to occur.  After finishing supper I would bundle up,   grab the paper song book and would head out into the blustering cold of the prairie night to stand beneath the dull glow of the back porch light and I would sing.  I would sing like my life depended on it.  I sang from the soul.

At first I imagined I was a member of an elite door to door carolling group that was sought after to perform.  Everyone one wanted this group to perform, their eyes welling with tears as we sang about Christmas and magic and little baby Jesus.  It did not take long for my imagination to up the ante and that is when my brain gave birth to the absolute ultimate dream of dreams......

I would be singing a classic hit like "Good King Wenceslas" or "Come All Ye Faithful" as Mr. Chen was driving down the street.  His keen musical ear would pick-up the delightful tinkle of music in the air.  He would feel compelled to roll down his window, despite the bitter cold, desperate to hear more of the angelic sounds.   He would be thinking-  "What is this I hear... I have NEVER heard such a voice as this.   I can not stop listening.  It maybe -30 with a windchill but that voice.... that magnificent voice warms me from the inside.   I must find this singer.  That possessor of this powerful voice will be the saviour of our school choir!!!!!"  He would abandon his vehicle and spurned on by his desire, nay need, to find this god send of a singer, he would comb the streets until he happened around the corner of our house and found me there lit by the glow of the porch light.  He would fall to his knees with tears in his eyes and would beg for my forgiveness.... for not recognizing my talents sooner.  He  would insist that I immediately join the choir in a lead role.  My life would be complete and I would be jubilant knowing that my talents had finally been recognized.  

Ahhhhh... I sigh thinking about it and my chest still puffs up in pride at the thought of what could have been.  Alas, my Christmas miracle was never actualized.  But man do I have a kick-ass repertoire of Christmas Carols and some fond memories to reminisce about.

BLOG PROLOGUE-  For all the kiddo's reading this.... I want you to know although my Christmas miracle did not happen I finally made the choir in my final year of try-outs.  All you need is a little patience, perseverance and practice, practice, practice and you can reach your goals.  Either that or you just wear them down, until they finally accept what you know... you have a talent- yes you do!

Merry Christmas to all and to all a Christmas Miracle!!!

The Born Again Introvert

It was another 5:30 wake-up call courtesy of the cat.  I tried to practise some mindfulness, hopeful that being in "the moment" would lull me back to sleep.  It seemed to be working, but then different parts of my brain started lighting up like a Christmas tree.  The first thought- the bed was too hot with the dog touching me.  Nothing that couldn't be solved by faux restlessness.  A couple of wistful sighs and about 20 flip- flops later, Ferg picked up on my hints and moved to the floor.  By this time my brain had moved onto other thoughts...... "the financials related to the education session that I helped organize at work; the laundry list of things that I have to do before I start my month of leisure next week; planning out my day, etc, etc.  To bad there is not a zen like movement the involves making and revising monotonous lists in your mind..... if there was I could make some serious coin.

My thoughts continued to jump around like a child that has been made to sit too long.  One thing led to another and before I knew it I was contemplating extroversion and introversion and how both can exist in one family and I knew it was time to get up to blog.  Yup at the computer blogging by 7:00.

How does a family end up having a mixture of introverts and extroverts when the genetic make-up is relatively the same for all give or take a X chromosome?  We all had the same rules, the same upbringing and similar expectations yet still we ended up- extrovert, introvert, introvert, extrovert.  If you can't guess I am one of the middle introverts.

1 is a lovely number!

I am at my happiest when I am alone or near alone.  Drop me off in the middle of the bush with no one around, no need to make conversation, alone with my thoughts and time to reflect..... that is the stuff dreams are made of.

When I was younger finding "me" time was extremely hard to do because I shared a room with a sibling who always seemed to be in said room and the house was filled with five other people.   If I wanted to spend some time by myself, that did not involve hanging out in a bathroom, I had to get creative.    I tried out "spots" to see how well they worked.... behind the curtains in the living room huddled over the hot air register only worked in the mornings, before others were out of bed.  Stuffing myself in the bottom of the small linen closet only worked until someone needed linens... which in a house of six was often.

Slowly but surely I whittled down the hiding spots in our house until I found the "sweet spots".  The spots that no one would ever think of looking for me in, nor would they even be interested entering them.  My first secret spot was in this tiny little crawl space behind the furnace and hot water heater in the laundry room.  I would wedge myself between the studs and settle in for a  Max time.  When someone would come into the laundry room my anxiety would rise, especially if they were looking for me.  I feared they would be able to hear me breathe so I would hold my breath.  When they did not leave right away I had to rethink my game plan for fear of death.  Very slowly I would let my breath out and then I would switch to shallow slow breath patterns.   The whole time I was frozen in a statue like pose, lest some slight movement give away my location.  This spot served me well for a long time, until someone decided to explore behind the water heater, then my "secret" space was no longer secret.

Drat!

It was back to the drawing board trying to find a space that was my very own.  It took a while but I happened upon my ultimate hiding spot purely by accident.  I was in the cold storage room one day when someone came into the laundry room calling my name.... I don't know why I didn't answer.... maybe I was surly from being "peopled out".  As the person left yelling "I don't know where Max is.... she's not in the laundry room."  I had an epiphany.  This could be my new spot.  Over time I snuck things into the room.....  snacks,  blankets, a chair.  I finally had a spot that was my very own.  I would go in there to study and to escape from the world.  It was a small oasis of freedom and solitude.  There was still moments of tension, when my mom would come down and I would start panicking that she came downstairs to gather some of the preserves that lined the shelves behind me, but she never  found my secret spot.

There was something strangely empowering about listening to siblings and parents yelling my name mere steps away from where I was sitting and not answering their calls.  All the while they just had to turn around and open the door and the jig would have been up.  But why would they ever think that I would want to hang out in a cold storage room.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.

My idea of refuelling my soul

Flash forward many years.... I continue to feel my most comfortable when I am around as few people as possible.  I fell in love with backpacking because at its core your trying to escape away from the crowds by going to places where others don't venture.  Sure you see people on the trails, but there are long moments of just being.  No need to converse, unless you want to with yourself.  During the long cold months when camping in the wilds is not an option I am know to take vacations from the world.  The phones are turned off, I stay away from social media and I try to minimize contact with any humans.    These mini breaks are just what I need to start missing being around people.

I find I need these types of retreats as I work in a people profession and the days and weeks of talking with, to and listening to others drains my psyche and leaves me feeling depleted.  It has nothing to do with the people I interact with.  I enjoy the time I spend with the people I work with, the clients and friends... I just need more time than the average bear to recharge my mental battery and I have a harder time doing that when I interact with people.

My sisters' idea of refuelling the soul

Now compare that with my younger sister- N  Almost from the moment she came out of the womb N has commanded the attention of those around her.  If she did not have it, she would find a way to get it.  N is at her finest when there are people around... the more the better.  She effortlessly moves from one group to another.  As the night progresses you can see her transcend into superstar status, everyone knows her and delights in being around her.  Christ she even invites people to her house so that she can entertain them.... willingly...... WHAT!

Madness, I know!  I am cringing and shuddering as I am typing this.... Soooooo NOT my scene.

But it is her scene.

N and my Mom

If you know both my sister and me, there is no mistaking that we are related.  We sound a like, we have similar gestures and walks... so much so our nephew has difficulty telling us apart and often has to guess..... Auntie with the White Dogs??? (yes that is my Auntie name).

On the surface my sister and I are so similar, but our cores are vastly different.

Me trying to escape "peopleing"

Or are we?

Lately I have heard my sister comment on how nice it is to escape to the solitude of the pasture, to unplug.   She is commenting on how she is occasionally feeling drained after hosting parties.

Where is that coming from?  In the past the surest way to bore my sister was to take away her people connection.  Now she is seeking time away from people.

I am intrigued by this.  How can a card carrying extrovert start exhibiting such clear introverted tendencies?

Could it be that there are just too many ways to connect with people in today's society?  Social media, texting, email, phones, scores and scores of people everywhere you go- mall, streets, parks.  Have extroverts reached a point where they are no longer refuelled by being around others and maintaining constant connection?

Are extroverts looking for new natural "highs"and are they starting to frolic in the beauty of being alone and not having any demands placed on their time and mind?

Based on the evidence before me, in the form of my card carrying extroverted sister, this may be the case.  That's right... I think my extroverted sister is transitioning into a Born Again Introvert.   Maybe she will try it on and decide that it is not for her.  Maybe she will fully convert.  Only time will tell.

In the meantime I will just sit back and enjoy being amazed at the twists and turns of life.