Fresh From the Market

Even as I'm writing this, I'm licking peanut butter off my fingers and enjoying the organic bananas and blueberries that I've sliced over my peanut butter on whole wheat.  Healthy, fresh and delicious food that I don't have to feel guilty about. Yum!

 For me, coming to the market as a child, it was always about getting a treat.  Now that I've grown older and I enjoy helping out at the family market stand, I look into the eyes of the next generation as they scan the tables, looking for a treat of their own.  It's so much fun watching their faces, some of the children just tall enough to peek over the edges of the tables.  The vendors all know each other and trade bills for change, offering a free lunch now and again, sometimes bartering lettuce and broccoli for a dozen brown eggs. 

I just love the variety of vegetables, fruit, flowers and baked goods that add up to wonderful possibilities for the evening meal.  Many times, chefs will come looking for a particular item, knowing that it will be at its peak and ready to consume.  The vendors cater to the many tastes and requests of their customers, altering the offerings from week to week.  It's even possible to order ahead of time and have everything packaged and ready upon arrival.  

 "Organic" and "local" are two must-have labels when it comes to filling the market basket of our savvy consumers and growers strive to meet that expanding demand.  Farmers have taken to finding alternate methods of fertilizing and spraying for pests to preserve the environment and provide the healthiest produce possible.  The mellow taste of a fresh organic banana digests much easier than its grocery store counterpart and even tastes sweeter, more flavourful.  I speak from experience.  

Ahhhh, the Napoleon.  My favorite sinful dessert.  Stacks of crumbly pastry, a fluffy pale custard and alternating layers of whipped cream all topped with a sweet icing and its traditional chocolate swirl make this a real eye pleaser as well as a memorable gastronomical feast.  Speaking of memorable...This was the first treat my oldest child remembers sharing with me...in the sanctuary of the apple orchard behind the farmhouse where no one could see us and then of course, we'd have to share.  I can still feel the early morning sunshine on our backs, the hot earth beneath our feet and taste the sweet icing as we licked every last bit from our fingertips.  The world's best breakfast. mmm  

 There are many varieties of cookies, cakes and traditional pastries from various countries.  It is difficult to know which to try first.  I have always been happy with my choice and leave with a wandering eye as to what I might like to try on the next weekend.  Just as I'm leaving, a small line forms and I smile in secret satisfaction that I have made it to the baker on time this Saturday.

The apple vendor across the aisle wins over little taste buds to a healthy treat by offering a wedge of crisp, juicy fruit to sample. Grandparents and parents alike smile in satisfaction, seeing a lifetime of good eating habits established.  Another bushel of the fragrant apples travel home to be popped into lunches or grabbed for a quick after-school snack on the way to the skate park or library.

 One of the newest vendors has brought with her a pleasing selection of nuts and seeds to add to the bounty of the overflowing tables.  Here too, samples are offered to cautious buyers and the friendly service is as much a part of the sale as the taste of her stores.  If ever there is a crying toddler nearby, one of the vendors often reaches out with a smile and a little present to be remembered for the next visit, with the parent's permission, of course.  The atmosphere is very much family-friendly as jokes are tossed over the stalls, indicating that the farmers and neighbouring vendors are enjoying the busy morning.

 As part of our spring break fun, I plan on bringing my daughters back here to re-live memories of our jelly making days from a couple of summers past.  Sales of our blueberry/orange and orange/ginger jam were a family project from field to kitchen then on to the market. The girls gained sales experience while learning to inter-act with the public and make new friends with our regular customers.  We still laugh over some of our memories.  One customer had a complaint and started really making her case known. My oldest simply let her go on for a while, then hollered, "Hey, Grampa! Can you come here for a minute?!"  Imagine the look of surprise...

 My youngest amazed us all with how quickly she picked up her sales skills and would often approach buyers who were just looking and ask if they would like a bag for that.  Her shyness evaporated while she joked with her uncle and her math skills improved while she learned to give change without the benefit of a calculator.  The produce is still added up as the customer shops and a grand total announced at the end, surprising the newer customers with both the efficiency and the low price.

 After a good morning's work, my girls and I would pick from vegetable pizza or maybe some doubles with ginger beer and head for the library steps to feast.  The culmination of planting the first seeds to zealously weeding during the hot days of summer and finally, bringing the freshest and the best to be selected to fill the tables of Niagara is a very satisfying job.  This spring, I am happy to have a week to laugh, share and make new memories with my girls while we re-live some poignant moments and renew acquaintances with old friends.  There is just something exhilarating about opening the door of the market in the spring time that makes it seem as though anything is possible and for just a short while, we can dream. Dream of new samples to try, discovering an old tradional favourite, or a familiar face waiting for our usual order. The sun beams down over it all grandly, just as it always has done and promises warmer days to come..

d

Spring Day Captured

Looks like a foggy spring day in an old movie

I am holding these pictures in my mind and I'll be looking at them often tomorrow when we're getting snowed on and all the pretty hyacinths, tulips, crocuses and daffodils will shiver with disappointment at the sudden drop in temperatures.  Today, I saw a gorgeous arrangement of birch wood branches and twigs, encircled by varying shades of succulent hyacinth and tulips.  I was so tempted to grab a picture but I will have to content myself with the memory of them.  When my daughters come next week, I hope to take them to more flower gardens and I hope and pray there will be blooms left to marvel at.  I've discovered a new hobby this week while wandering aimlessly through the city, enjoying the sun and wind and in no huge hurry to catch my bus that wouldn't  be coming for another two hours.  They are certainly not professionally done, but I got so much delight and joy out of trying to compose them and thinking of sharing my day through these photos with my children.  Next week, I want to see what else is in bloom!

Chez Paris...well almost

Fountain in the City

Can you see the buildings from the trees?
I wonder which came first..

Waiting for Nightfall

Is there anything better than a stand of Daffodils nodding wisely as you pass by?

Highly Effective Habits of BZ PPL...
photo of cafe in case you leave ur purse behind

n

Hanging on for Dear Life

Today I rode three different kinds of public transit.  There was the quiet, first thing in the morning city bus, just a little late as usual but then he values safety so that's ok.  I guess.  Then there was the inter-city bus that has a nice long seat in the back for me to sleep on.  Always a plus.  The third was another city bus that must buy brakes on wholesale because he sure liked to use them.  I just thank my lucky stars there were no pregnant ladies with weak stomachs aboard and the small children were all safely strapped into their strollers.  The older people already knew about survival skills on this bus and they were hanging on, white knuckled and grim faced, determined to make it to the bingo hall without sliding off a seat and down the crowded aisle.  I had to stand for part of the time and I'm telling you, it was like trying out for the Inner City Olympics.  I learned that those flimsy overhead straps are not always bolted into place and that the person behind me doesn't always realize they are my back up plan in case I do happen to lose my iron grip on the overhead railing.
The trip home wasn't much better because my cell phone lit up with bad news about a family member and I detoured from my usual route home directly to the hospital.  The triage nurses did a fantastic job of telling me to stay in the waiting room so I politely thanked them and walked around the corner to the security guard and informed him of my name and the room number I was visiting which he scrawled on a sticky name tag.  Magic.  The door opened.  When the rest of my family got there, the security personnel were nowhere to be found so I made out name tags for each of them with a half nod to hospital protocol and then went over to the same nurse and informed her that we needed to be let in.  For some reason, we were allowed in and walked down the hall to the appropriate room.  This time I looked down and saw frail hands holding the metal railing of a gurney and my sense of humor disappeared.  I don't know what it is about holding on to whatever is closest to us that makes us feel as though we are more in control and secure.  Sometimes, it is a practical way to avoid walking the windows on a quick turning transit ride.  Other times, we don't even realize that what we are holding onto is not the object itself but the frailness and uncertainty of our own lives.  Today was a rough day and I called for help when I felt I needed to talk.  I have morning therapy tomorrow which just happens to be in the morning (redundancy intended).  Time to cry and sleep.  Is that enough self help journaling for one day?  Yeah, I think so.

One Thousand Gifts, pass it on

My daughter, well hopefully both daughters and my son will be coming to see me in a week.  I am excited about this but I have been in such a funk since I've last blogged over various concerns that have consumed me.  I sat in a hot bath tonight that was supposed to help but only when I bowed my head in a complete sense of weary hopelessness and asked for the help I needed did I feel the relief I craved.
My doctor called today to say they wanted to run some more tests to rule out a rather serious illness. I visited my parents today and was shocked to notice symptoms of another, more crippling stroke on my mother.  I feel as though my world is changing before my eyes and it breaks my heart; whenever I look at my parents getting closer to heaven, when I feel the uncertainty of my own mental state, when I wake in the morning and know my children are seven hours away and I won't be kissing them good morning and barking orders to get them off to school on time.  I know I have less peace because I am harboring my problems, clutching them closely to my breast, thinking I can own them. Thinking that I can work them out and make it better.  I have forgotten to trust.  I have forgotten the joy of a surrendered life.  I have lost my peace.  Bitter confession for the happy philosopher I have been.  Back to the basics.  Meaningful prayer that reaches past time limits and tears the selfishness, anger and hatred from my heart and I can feel whole again and in communion once again with my Maker.  It makes such a difference to have an open line rather than to close my heart off in pride and keep my consuming disappointment to myself.  Why did my life take this turn?  I know a Christian reads their Bible and prays daily but I have gradually taken over the worry department and tried to manage things myself, afraid of what might be asked of me in a total surrender.  I don't usually read self help type books, preferring the living Words of the Bible.  Tonight, I was encouraged by my daughter's suggestion to read One Thousand Gifts.  I read the first chapter on line for free and it poked me gently in the conscience to turn over the load I was carrying.  As for the problems of others that caused me worry, "that is not my inventory" - a saying I had just learned from a friend.  The time I spent reading Ann's book was well spent and led to an introspective look at my own jaded heart.  Do I really trust God will do what is best for me?  How do I know He will be there when I need Him? The answers are in Word form, love that is given and received to replace the fear, doubts and hatred.

I am grateful to my family for the joy and insight they bring into my life.  I am grateful to be reminded of Who will truly help me.  I am grateful to be here, alive and expecting the good things I have asked for in my life.

Celebrating the last day of the Winter we didn't have

Something a little different today...poetry that I've found when I was looking for my favorite by Shelley.

It's been awhile since I written any of my own.  I think I'll try it out again and see what happens.  Meanwhile...This was sooo cute!
"May I print a kiss on your lips?" I said,
And she nodded her full permission:
So we went to press and I rather guess
We printed a full edition.
~Joseph Lilientha                              

Love's Philosophy

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
(1803-1822)

---

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle;--
Why not I with thine?

See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven,
If it disdained it's brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;--
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?

.

Smile Virus 
By Russel H. ConwellSmiling is infectious, you catch it like the flu.
When someone smiled at me today, I started smiling, too.
I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin
when he smiled, I realized I'd passed it on to him!
I thought about that smile and then realized its worth,
a single smile, just like mine, could travel round the earth.
So, if you feel a smile begin, don't leave it undetected,
let's start an epidemic quick, and get the world infected!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



The Optimist
by Author Unknown
The optimist fell ten stories.
At each window bar
He shouted to his friends:
"All right so far."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Amazed

Today was a great day.  I gave myself gold stars all the way down my activity chart and ate an unseemly amount of Double Chocolate ice cream in a mixing bowl.  Aaaaaah.  Life is good.  Tomorrow is Monday and I'll be drinking green tea like it's about to be dumped in the harbor and doing Pilates as though my life depended on it.  That's tomorrow.  Today is a day of rest and I'm resting.  They say good health is a balance of rest, exercise, healthy food, recreation, work.  What they didn't say was what day that was supposed to be on.  
Today, the sun was shining, there was a beautiful breeze and I had a nice long chat with my oldest child.  We decided together what she was going to wear for her high school play's red carpet ceremony.  Then we talked about the Sadie Hawkins dance she had to chaperone as part of the spirit club.  We reminisced about Henry and who's apple was hauled up the tree in the front yard  I discovered that we had not only bridged the gap of the distance between us and become stronger for it but that we were equals now; both adults.  Well, most of the time.  Just don't get us going on Starbucks or chocolate or the giggle-fest is ON!  It has been almost a year since I have seen my youngest daughter and my son.  I hope to see them this spring and enjoy their company once again.  It has been almost a year since I've moved and I can't believe how much has changed in that short time.  I have struggled horribly with missing them but I'm at a point in my recovery that I can say I am happy.  No one is completely happy all the time but I have learned to appreciate the wisdom of the counsel that was offered me last year by an old friend.  By being strong and continuing on, my children see an example they can be proud of and they can know for themselves that life does go on, even when the most horrible things happen.  It seems like the world should stop turning when our loved ones are taken from us, especially if it is unexpectedly.  The pain seems too much to bear and we just can't conceive of ever being happy or smiling again.  The first year after a death or loss in the family is the worst, as it was when we lost my brother, David.  The roller coaster of emotions gradually becomes less mountainous and more like curving hills on our mind-scape.  It is difficult to imagine that years from now, we will not feel the pain so intensely and that we will find ways not only to survive, but to help others who have suffered the same loss to cope as well.  It is in the darkest of valleys when we discover we are not alone and our God is with us.  We can only pass on that hope through the vantage point of experience.  If only for that reason alone, I am glad that I have been comforted with the same Word that has brought me through many trials before this.  It is that same faith that will be fanned back into full flame whenever a fellow pilgrim trips and falls along the way.
 Today reminded me of just how blessed I am.  I have a God who is always caring for me, whether I know it or not.  He is the Guardian on watch when my children are asleep, driving themselves to the mall or making choices at school.  When my children were little, I used to elevate myself as all mothers usually do by making everything magically better with a kiss.  In retrospect, I think a word of prayer and an introduction to Our Loving Father would have served a better purpose.  This past year has taught me to trust Him more and to appreciate the blessings a quiet Sunday brings.  Food, clothing, shelter.  A warm bed to sleep in at night.  Each night when I fall asleep, I thank God for all of those things because there was a time when I didn't have some of those things and I am doubly grateful for them now in a way I  never could have been if I hadn't experienced the losses.  Today, I was reminded to call my mother and chat with her.  This week, I will make sure I visit my parents and laze around the table talking.  It's amazing what a day of rest will do for the mind, body and soul.
While I acknowledge that things are not perfect now and my life is lacking in the presence of my children, I have been tested and taught important lessons that I will cherish always.  Be kind to those you love.  Don't go to bed angry, even if it takes several trips back to their bunk bed to make things right.  For all the chances you have to smile and make someone's day better, there is someone who needs that smile and needs their day made brighter.  Tomorrow I should find out if I've been accepted in my Peer Tutoring class. I'm excited about the path my future may take and I'm grateful for all I've been given.  If this is not the way I need to go, I am willing to be led down another path.  Sometimes, the difficulty is in knowing without a doubt, that our choices are correct and wise, not just guesses. That must be why it's called Amazing Grace.

Henry and the Big Doughnut

Spring is chirping outside my window.
I can hear its arrival
as the birds arrange their nests for the season
and get reacquainted with their neighbours.

The fresh, pungent odor of pine needles being raked
along with last seasons fallen twigs and leaves.
The daffodils nod their approval
while the crocuses remain silent,
perhaps reserving their opinion for another time.

The squirrels don't seem to mind the happy whistling
as they bustle around below the trees
foraging for leftovers
racing back up the tree with a crust of bread.

One squirrel is noticed
carrying an obscenely large donut
covered in sprinkles.
In a panic to avoid sharing
He fairly gallops up the tree trunk

There he sits, patiently rotating the sweet treat
nibbling the stolen sugary snack.
Tragedy strikes.
The donut has been dropped and is nowhere to be seen.
A quick leap to the ground
followed by frantic scurrying
among the remaining leaves from the past season.

Running in dizzying circles,
dashing left
then right
until finally, the fluffy tree climber and his sweet are re united.
Another laborious haul up the tree
Paying no attention that the doughnut is 4 times bigger than his head
Patience has paid off
and he is once again patiently nibbling
nimble little fingers rotating

A crunch in the leaves below
He freezes, stops eating his snack and peers through the hole to the ground below
and once again
drops
the donut.
The circle of life as seen from the front of my window.

A Word Of Caution

Whenever you are standing at the bus stop with a few minutes to kill on your way to the gym for a quick swim, make sure you have a towel.  

Whirlwind

Today was such a busy day, at least the first half.  The second half of the day was spent calming my energies that had kept me going in the morning.  I enjoyed getting to my appointment early and having a green tea on the patio while chatting with another lady.  I pulled out my morning puzzle book after she left and switched sides of the table to get more sun.  I didn't find much to have fun with except for a guy who sat a few chairs down eating poptarts right out of the box, still in the grocery bag.  Naturally, I said, "Poptarts, huh?  Way to go, show no shame!"  I cheered him on.   He returned with the old stand-by "breakfast of champions" and we left it at that.  Pretty soon it was time for me to go inside for my interview so I left him sitting there with his fruity colored tarts and plastic bag. The interview went very well and I didn't realize almost an hour had flown past when we had finished talking.  We shook hands, leaving the room and whom should we find lounging on the couch in the lobby but Mr. Poptart himself.  I hope he wasn't some super casual upper management guy or something.  It could mean I would be seeing less rather than more of him as a future student.  But, really! Poptarts?  The entire box?  Wow. Then I remembered my three donuts and burnt decaf earlier that morning and realized that they weren't exactly going to recommend me for sainthood either.  Ah well. At the end of my journey, I got so tired that I took the wrong busessss, plural, before I got home an hour later.  I made a big, healthy lunch and some hot fennel tea, hoping to unwind in front of CNN's boring repetitive chatter.  When that didn't work, I switched to the couch and brought out a favorite flannel blanket.  No dice.  So back upstairs to the nest where I put my favorite soft music on, arranged my pillows, just so and....nothing.  I wanted to sleep so badly that I found I could not unwind.  My room mate couldn't pull me out of it and I began to cry from frustration and from the cumulation of all the events that had led to this moment.  I picked up my phone to call the local crisis centre...busy.  I called the hospital crisis center, busy.  I called another hotline which was out of town but was not busy.  After awhile, they referred me to the local line and I called there.  It felt so completely childish to explain your symptoms over and over to people who are complete strangers, most of the time.  I spoke with a young man who was pretty knowledgeable and helpful and got off the phone feeling somewhat pacified.  I was angry that my illness has such control over me at times.  When I'm overtired and away from home, I begin to almost panic because I get confused and I just want to get home but I'm not sure if I'm doing it the best way or I'll make dumb decisions that I normally would not.  So, there you have it.  The unvarnished version of the day.  There were highs, lows, in betweens and down right silly moments that made me giggle.  Speaking of giggle, this was from the weekend.....
 O by the way, I think my left hip is out again because I slid down the railing at a certain station when no one was there and I had just missed my train; it literally closed with my fingers on the door.  I was pretty mad and there was nothing I could do about it so I thought it might be fun to behave like an idiot.  I took my music outside and sang along.  Gave the empty tracks my best "fingers in mouth" whistle as if that could hail a train along any quicker.  Making hats from newspapers is much easier when you actually have the Curious George book in front of you and anyway, my head has grown and they don't fit.  Transportation can be a challenge to anyone on the best of days.   Like this morning when I saw the bus that didn't  stop longer than a milli second at the corner before it sped off and pretended not to see the old lady with the bright purple coat and white hair waving her cane wildly in the air.  The cussword she used to describe the driver when she returned to the shelter was not quite what I was expecting but then, that's modern transportation for you.  It brings out the best in some when they make way for others to sit while they stand.  Then there are the days when you want to throw your lot in with the cane lady and forget, just for a moment, that we are grown ups. Aren't we?  So this post is a little bit of everything all mixed up and added together to make a somewhat accurate report of the day and other moments of import.  Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.

Big Interview Tomorrow!

The day I have been eagerly anticipating has come!  Tomorrow I am going to get up a 5:30, take four different buses, travelling a total of two hours to get to my Peer Tutoring Class Interview.  There were over 70 people that had been on the six month waiting list when I called in the beginning of February.  The lady I spoke with told me to go ahead and send my information and they would look at it.  Imagine my excitement when I got the phone call; I had been chosen to be interviewed for one of about ten seats available for the class.  Tonight I am going to bed early and I've got everything set out so I can have a smooth morning tomorrow.
During my nightly call with my oldest daughter, we exchanged tidbits about our days, good and bad.  There's usually something funny that happens in a class full of seniors, anxious to get out in the world and make their mark.  I love our calls and how I can still be helpful, pointing her to resources that will help her and making suggestions on her writing or job hunting skills.  I miss all of my children so terribly much.  It does help to leave them little notes on their facebook accounts so they will know I haven't forgotten them and I love them very much.  I am just glad to still be here and working through my recovery.  Keeping in touch with them is a huge part of that.  My youngest is hoping she will be allowed to visit this time along with her older sister and I am praying that she will, too.  She misses me as much as I do her and it would break her heart again after not being allowed to come over Christmas vacation.  All the gifts I sent were not the same as spending time with me.  So, I pray and count the days til I see them on spring break.  Meanwhile, I am keeping busy and showing them I'm not a quitter and that I can get up again and make something wonderful out of my days.
I can easily imagine myself working as a caseworker at a Safebeds or group home.  I have become so familiar with their system and the very open dialogue we share really strengthens the bond of trust and care between worker and client.  I am so happy to have my worker puzzle through my problems with me and come up with solutions that should seem obvious to me but in my anxious state of mind, do not appear as readily available or feasible.  Today, we spent a good deal of time talking about how to plan towards my recovery and get me back to where I was about a month ago when I became physically ill and my mood and energy levels plummeted.  I look back at my first posts and find them so full of humor and happiness, sarcasm and fun.  I don't feel any of that right now and I'm anxious to get it back.  It's no fun to be in the valley but I can certainly empathize with someone who is.  One day, soon, I am looking forward to the time when I will have graduated from my studies and I can really help the new faces I see coming through our doors at the Canadian Mental Health Association.  Often, the friendships formed based on trust and mutual experience are long lasting and supportive in a special way because of battles hard won and moments to remember.  And so it is with a full heart of gratitude and expectancy that I face my opportunity tomorrow and I pray God will give me the right words to say to come across as a good candidate for being a Peer Tutor.  I will of course, blog my results as soon as I can.

Are you Pinterested?

I can't believe someone found a way to scrapbook your favorites online and share them with friends.  So cool...I've just visited this website called Pinterest that my daughter told me about.  She said I had to check it out.  The first step is requesting an invitation, which is a bit annoying since I wanted to get started right away.  A couple of days later, the invite came in the mail and I was finally able to start.  I discovered one thing after an hour or so...my daughter was right; it can be addicting.  You can choose to follow other people's pinboards or you can go online and find your own favorite recipe, picture, quote, idea to add to the site.  The pinboards are like virtual bulletin boards and each are reserved for a specific category such as My Dream Home, Quotes, Food.  One idea leads to another and pretty soon, an hour has passed by and you've hardly noticed.
I'm going to qualify this to myself as therapeutic  rather than a guilty pleasure because it engages the creative side of my mind so I stop thinking about whatever might be worrying me at that moment in time.  It's like a mini-vacation into the life you'd like to have.  You can be grandiose and pull together ideas for a castle on a hilltop or a simple white cottage surrounded by flowers and herbs, complete with the obligatory picket fence and arched gateway.  I must admit, I haven't decided whether I'm collecting ideas for my next home or just daydreaming but I am having a ton of fun just dreaming of it.  And that's what adults could use a little more of with the hectic days we have.  I think a hot cup of tea and fifteen minutes of this new addiction would be a great way to decompress after work or between odd jobs at home.  Whoever thought this up is a genius and I'm having so much fun that I decided I had to include it in my blog.
http://pinterest.com/page0072/

I hope you'll give it a try and see for yourself.  Feel free to post your own boards back to me as comments and I'll be sure to check them out!

P.S.  Don't forget the time change tomorrow morning for those who have early morning plans!

Spring Dreaming

This spring, I am putting my order in early for tulips, poppies, roses, foxgloves and about a million other varieties that make me smile.  I don't have a yard of my own but that's not going to stop me.  I'm going online to find some really pretty, sweet smelling varieties of my favourites.  Then I'm going to design my own lavish garden complete with a splashing water fountain, brick courtyard, grape covered trellised gazebo for outdoor dining.  A cozy firepit hidden away with greenery and fitted with comfortable seating.
The wind is howling outside and the snow is being defiant in her early March appearance but I will not let it bother me at all.  My oldest daughter has turned me onto the lastest and greatest in web time wasters aka really cool stuff.  It's called Pinterest and I think I'll give it a shot.  For now, I'll just pass it on as an idea for a quiet winter/early spring afternoon.  Enjoy and I'll post more soon when I have something to show off ;)

Words to Live By...Maybe

They used to tell us as children, not to put batteries in our mouth or touch them with our tongue to see if they were still good.  Definitely don't stick your hand in the light socket and never, NEVERput a plastic bag over your head.  All of those things could really hurt and/or kill you. Hmmmm.
I have recently discovered that the lithium ion batteries in my digital camera share a common ingredient with a mood stabilizer I've come across called Lithium.  This piqued my curiosity so naturally, I went online to find the many uses of lithium.  If I was low on energy,for instance, lithium and its hydrides are used as high energy additives in rocket propellant so that might come in handy.  That would make me more like the Energizer Bunny if I took it, theoretically.  Or should I just pop open my camera periodically and take a hit?  I guess the next time I visit my psychiatrist I'll just ask for the usual lube, oil and filter and a refill for my lithium battery.  Do you take coupons from Canadian Tire?  Speaking of tires, lithium can also be used to create a bright, red color for safety flares on the highway in case of a flat.  I wonder how high a dosage that would require to really be effective.

Maybe on days when my coffee isn't quite perking me up, I'll try sticking my finger in the light socket....just to see.  Might be something like electric shock therapy in the privacy of my own living room; I'd just have to have a friend or neighbor standing by to make sure I recover full consciousness after my "treatment".  Think of the savings.  Think of the excitement.  People could quit renting movies and checking out youtube to see weird stuff.  They could just come over to my house every night after dinner.  Then we could all hang out and have dessert, talk about the good old days when getting buzzed meant being called to the principal's office or eating over ripe bananas.  

As for the plastic bags over our heads, that's pretty much a worry of the past; instead of the danger of choking and getting all red in the face, we've switched to recycled fabric and gone "green".  It's supposed to be good for us to re-use these bags to cart raw meat home one week and mangoes the next.  Oh,wait a minute!  This just in... research has shown that leftover germs can cause food poisoning when using this earth-friendly routine leading to side effects such as stomach pains, food poisoning, gas, bloating, intestinal discomfort and occasional death.  Sounds to me like I'll take my chances with the plastic bag...now that I'm an adult and my grown children don't seem to be at any risk of suddenly popping a plastic bag overhead "just to see".

I guess one man's poison is another man's cure...it's just getting difficult to tell which is which and I'm still in shock.

Coffee for my Sugar and a Whole Lotta Love

Today was the kind of day that takes my breath away. Today I asked my daughter which vehicle took curves better - the van or the sports car? She answered "the little car" to which I exclaimed, "Aha, I knew you've been speeding!! You would have to be going a certain speed to know the answer to that question. Never mind how I know that." We both laughed because she is the most conservative, safety-minded driver I could imagine since she grew out of her training wheels. Today, she also voted in the elections. She got on line and checked out who was the best choice and went to the polls. I keep seeing pictures of her in her "pony-tail only" stage as she frowned her way through her homework in first grade. Caring for her first pets and making friends that she will be graduating with this spring. I've grown used to the fact that she is an adult; independent and very capable of accomplishing her goals. I am very proud of how well she has done for herself and I couldn't think of anything more she could have done to do a better job of being a dedicated student, caring sibling and loving daughter. The hours spent reading together, walking and talking our way around the block and window shopping began before she could walk on her own. We've continued those traditions as equals now and I'm so glad that I am a part of her life. I used to talk to her constantly before she was born and read to her, as with all of my children. Sometimes, I'd get bored and make up a completely different story to amuse myself and finish the tale doubled up with laughter at my own silliness. When she was a baby, I would talk to her throughout the day, assuming she knew what I meant and that her occasional expression meant she was listening and she understood. Now, thanks to Skype, she calls me whenever she needs to hear my voice and we catch up on a daily basis.  I love to hear about her day and we edit her essays together, with the occasional pointer from me. As an infant, she sat on my lap while I covered her hand with my own to navigate a simple computer game for toddlers. She learned more and more each day until she began to point to the answers on the screen; even before she could manipulate the mouse on her own. Now that hand has grown almost overnight, it seems, and she is going on line, submitting job applications and scholarship essays for colleges. The same hand I held in mine as we danced our way through dinner preparations to the tunes of Frank and John Lithgow has grown stronger, talented and still loves to cook with "the guys". She has always insisted on calling him Frank as though he lived just down the street and came over often. Well, in a way, I suppose he did. At 7:30 a.m. when nobody wanted to even think of getting up, Frank and I were in the kitchen concocting a fabulously fattening breakfast with syrup and all the trimmings. She still invites him over and makes sushi for the family instead of my favorite spaghetti.  She enjoys a lot of the classics in movies, books, and music and has gone on to make her own list of favorites and must-haves. Chocolate covered espresso beans and Jersey Milk bars top the list. I see so much of the time we spent together in her personality and yet, she is so much more and only just beginning to blossom. Her artwork on birthday cards started out as a money saver, now they are coveted keepsakes. She is quick to make friends and loyal to the core. I've enjoyed school concerts, homeschool field trips, movies with her friends. We've shared pet funerals, all of us in the drizzling rain with our umbrellas saying good-bye to the latest in the line-up of pets that was too large to flush. I taught them how to say good-bye and say the words they needed to say in order to walk away. The trouble is, I wasn't listening to that lesson because I haven't learned how to say good-bye and I don't know what words to use in order to walk away.

So, I have mixed feelings about sending her off into the world. She might get to study in Paris or Glasgow, taking along the vintage styled umbrella for pictures that she has been planning on using for years. I am so excited to see her take off on her own and explore what she would like to become. It amazes me that this is the same five and a half pound baby dusted with cinnamon hair that came into my life more than eighteen years ago. I guess life is like that. We get the gift of family and friends in our life and the moment they arrive, we have no idea how much change they will bring, for better or worse. It is only after they are ready to break away to form their own circles of family and friends that we can look back and realize: "Wow. That was amazing!"

I have learned that I am stronger than I thought. I have learned that broken hearts do heal. I have learned that she is stronger than I thought and that her heart and mine have healed together, all the while becoming who we are as individuals while we continue our journey.

Darling, you are loved...I found a new song about our favorite addiction (coffee) for you to dance to in the kitch...

I just love the way it ends...sugar!  Sounds like something that would make you giggle on a grey day, too.

MUAH!  

Still Here

I should be asleep right now.  I've been told to get caught up on my rest, go to bed early, stay in bed.  Etc, etc. While I believe that's a really good idea, I need to write before I sleep.  I am always surprised at the way the human mind works, even when it's working off target of where I would prefer it be working.  Currently, my brain is off on assignment and the rest of me is just trying to take all this in and wondering how to deal with the pieces.  I overworked, underslept, here I am.  Maybe wiser, for sure more tired.  I'll let you know when I get it figured out.  I'm trying to re-gain the energy and busy lifestyle I once had but lately, my body hasn't been able to keep up with my demands.  So my brain calls a time out and says, "Hey, you down there with the arms and the legs going 90 miles an hour.  Can you please knock it off for awhile?  We're still trying to figure out how to deal with the hairspray we inhaled in the 80's".  Or something facetious like that.  I know I should talk nicer to myself when I do talk to myself.  At least that is what they tell me.  But then, I don't think me and myself should necessarily be holding dialogue on anything substantive because I am a Libra and the next decade will come and go before I decide on which ice cream flavour I like best.  So having a mental illness is not as glamorous as it's made out to be.  There are moments when I just cry walking down the street, hiding my face behind a cup of decaf because it's dark outside, I'm alone and I've just found myself at the bottom of a spin cycle.  Very scary.  That's when I know that God is still looking after me and I'm not in this battle alone.  Somehow, I feel Him pulling me back from the edge and I feel surrounded by His love when I realize that I was not walking down that street alone.  He was with me the whole time.  He has me here for a purpose and it's by His grace that I'm here. So, after I'm done resting, I'll get back up and revise my battle plan.  If I can see the warning signs early enough to know I've had too much activity and then actually put down the paintbrush, dish rag, garden trowel and vacuum cleaner and just sit down for awhile.  Sounds easy.  Way hard to break old habits.  I'm used to pushing myself because of the lack of options I had and I just had to get the job done.  Get jacked up on coffee and chocolate...the last legal addictive substances...mmmmmm.   Where was I?  O yeah...Old habits.  New habits.  Going to bed before my pumpkin gets a crack in it and the fairy tale world I'm rebuilding for myself comes falling down around me.  Good night, Cinderella.  You are strong.  You are important.  You are beautiful.  I know those are stolen lines from a movie but they work for me because I'm hearing them from Someone other than me.

Sharing My Goals and Dreams

Today, I returned a phone call and made a very important appointment for an interview.  It was for training to become a Peer Tutor and there are about 10 times as many people applying for the class as space will accomadate.  I was so happy to hear back from them and to know that I had made it into the next step of selection.  I've decided to share with you the letter and resume that I submitted for this class.  It is rather long but then, I took hours to write it and it's a big piece of who I am.  Maybe it will strike a chord with one of my readers and encourage them to follow their dreams as well.  I realize I'm not going to rock the world with this little hobby of mine but then again...maybe just my tiny corner of it.

To Whom It May Concern,

My name is Esther White and I'm very interested in becoming a Peer Tutor because of an experience I had during my own recovery process.  One shortfall I noticed at the hospital while I was there for inpatient treatment, was that the patients were seen for a limited time by their doctor, given their medications by their nurses and then referred to the social worker to help with getting the patient settled back into the community.  The one thing they were lacking was someone to talk to about their problems who could empathize with them and offer a compassionate audience.  While the patients on the medical wards have patient advocates, I've noticed that the psych ward does not.  It is my dream to implement patient advocates/peer tutors on these wards as a vital part of their treatment and to facilitate their recovery.  The reason I believe this is because of one lady who changed my own perspective.  

My experience with her is the foundation of my dream.  

I was in the dining room one evening and I could see out to the lounge where a lady sat.  She was clearly distraught, her lack of personal grooming and rumpled gown a reflection of her mood.  Her husband stood by helplessly not knowing how to console her while her sister sat to one side, silent as well.  The patient's voice became louder and more distressed and I was worried that she'd  be restrained when all she needed was a friend to listen to her side and show that he/she understood her.  I was disturbed that no one went to comfort her so I dropped my fork and went to her.  I knelt on the floor beside her and quietly asked what was wrong.  She related that she had to pack her home that weekend because they were moving.  She was going to sign out against physician's advice because nobody else could possibly manage the job.  She planned on involving her lawyer and wanted to pull out all the stops and create a real stink if they kept her against her will in the Intensive Care Unit at the hospital. The more she talked, the more agitated she became.  I let her come to the end of her story and then I looked at her and said, "Obviously, you can tell by my fancy dress that I'm a patient here, too."  At this, they all laughed a little and I was invited to sit down where her husband had sat and he stood attentively to one side.  I went on, "I am sure you're a very dedicated mother and wife and it sounds like you're very good at what you do."  At this she nodded vehemently and I smiled at her and her sister, drawing them both further into my audience.  "I used to be a patient at this hospital a few weeks ago and I, too, was in a hurry.  I went home too soon, didn't take my meds and I thought I'd be just fine.  After a few days,  I relapsed and found myself back here again. The most important thing I learned was not to rush and to follow the advice of my doctor.  What will it matter if you go and pack your home this weekend and push yourself beyond your limits?  Who will your dishes and fine furniture belong to then if you make a bad choice out of desperation?  I'm just as particular a lady as you'd ever like to meet and I like my house to be perfectly in order.  But if I broke my leg, I know I would need help with my work and I would hopefully be gracious in accepting that help.  Just trust your husband and family to do the work for you and concentrate on your work here.  Recovery is one of the hardest things you'll ever do in your life but it is also the most rewarding.  I have suffered from deep depression ten years ago and I have come out of it.  My life situation has changed very dramatically, having lost custody of my three teenage children very recently.  I became more and more depressed over the thought of losing them until I could no longer care for them or myself."

I paused for effect and then continued: "Learn from my mistakes, don't be in a rush to get home before your body is ready to get back into your demanding routine.  Stay here and try to be a co-operative patient.  They will move you from the Intensive Care unit to the more social regular ward and then it will be a more pleasant stay for you.  You should negotiate with your doctor and ask to be transferred to the regular floor on condition of good behaviour if you stay.  It is to your benefit to stay and recover."

Her eyes watered with fresh tears for my loss and we hugged for a moment while she told me how very sorry she was that I had to go through that.  She then agreed to try my suggestion and her husband thanked me profusely for coming over.  Later, I saw them in the hall, walking and offered them hot tea while they waited for their doctor.  I went to sleep that night wondering what the outcome would be and hoped my words would have the desired effect.   The next morning, I headed to the cafeteria for breakfast and she stopped me in the hall.  Her hair was neatly combed and she had a smile on her face.  Somehow, I had gotten through and they both shook my hands while she hugged me repeatedly saying thank you so much for listening, for caring and that she had really needed that.  A few days from then, she was transferred to our ward.  She was dressed smartly in street clothes, hair and make up in place and a cheerful smile to top it all off.  She rushed over to me excitedly and said her husband was going to show her their new home today and where she had once confided to me that she resented him and wanted a divorce, now she was starry-eyed with the anticipation of his arrival.  Shortly afterwards, she was discharged, very happy and affectionate with her husband.  They had gifts for me and tears in their eyes as we parted.  She promised to visit me, no matter how far the drive and hugged me fiercely before she turned around and left, arm in arm with her husband.  

I know the doctors and nurses managed her case very well and the medicine must have helped tremendously so that she became calm and more relaxed instead of the hysterical, panicked lady I met.  I remember her face at the time we met and compare it to the image of bouyant happiness at her discharge from the ward and I feel a small sense of accomplishment that at least I persuaded her to stay where she could get help.

This is my story and it has given me a sense of purpose, of being needed.  The nurturing,  compassionate part of me that was aching for fulfillment at the loss of my family had been given a new direction.  What I would like is a small part in the easing of someone's suffering and showing them that there is hope and that recovery is possible.

The Canadian Mental Health system has impressed me with its model for helping patients with mental illnesses.  Through the proper combination of medicine, education, group therapy, supportive staff that truly mentored me and helped me to improve, I have felt a significant improvement in the quality of my life and my drive to reach my goals.  I had lived in Canada for almost eighteen years, moved away to get married then came back just recently this spring.  The ease of access to great care is what has surprised me the most along with the amount of resources available to me.  Beginning with my stays at the hospital and its daily programming to include yoga, crafts and education, I began to believe in the medicine and trust in the system that was created to help patients like myself.  I had been very skeptical in the past and I saw for myself what a difference the right combination of medication, therapy and a balanced lifestyle can make.  I had a very relaxing, nurturing stay at Safe Beds where I first talked to a Peer Tutor who had taken this course and told me it wasn't a pipe dream; I really could take this course and do the job he was doing.  My heart began to beat excitedly as he completed the intake paperwork and I felt hope for the future as a real possibility for the first time.   I would be doing something very fulfilling while supporting myself ..something that I had been lacking for quite a while.  I am now living in supportive housing and I find the quiet retreat of my brightly painted corner room very restful.  If  I am anxious and tired while out on an appointment, I think of my home as a quiet and safe nest to recuperate in and I look forward to coming home.  Because of my illness, I had moved from place to place and now I had found some place that I could feel comfortable enough to call home.  I know my stay here is meant to be limited and I am doing my part to graduate successfully from the program with new skills and the knowledge to keep my life on track.  I have been given so much by the talented people I've worked with who have praised even the smallest improvement to keep me going.  I think that our mental health system is very beneficial for its clients because of the many levels of support that it offers.  It would be an honor to work alongside doctors, nurses and the families of our clients to facilitate open communication that wouldn't always be possible because of many different reasons.  I would like to begin by volunteering through the CMHA and then continuing my education at Niagara College for Social Service Worker as my energy and stamina improves.  I feel that this course is the gateway to my future and I see it as the first step towards gathering the tools that I will use to help my future clients.  Whether I work at a Safe Beds facility, hospital ward or supportive housing such as I live in now, I will strive to bring the same hope, support and caring that have aided in my own recovery.  I thank you for your consideration and look forward to hearing from you soon.

Kindest regards,

Esther White

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Objective

I have been licensed in casualty as well as life and health insurance and have enjoyed five years

of experience as a sales manager working for such reputable companies as American Family

Mutual, Nationwide Mutual and Western Southern Life. I have also volunteered at a nursing

home and worked there as activity director as well. I am looking to completing my

training as a Peer Tutor and ultimately, creating a patient advocate position within

the psychiatric ward at my local community hospital.

Accomplishments:

· Volunteered and worked at Belle Manor Nursing Home

· Created and implemented new office procedures in administrative role

· Home schooling mother of three, two of which are current honor roll students

· Acting General Contractor for personal home built within time and budget

· Took initiative in creating sales position from assistant’s role