Early morning--just me and the quiet

 

I woke up early again--my feet have been doing a lot of jumping again.  Stupid feet!  I think it is the sudden change in the weather--they are great barometers--just not my best friends at the moment!

I use this time to think about things, and after all these years there are so many memories and hopefully many new ones to create as I go forward.  I have had such an interesting life, with a lot of adventures, and at times, a bit of sorrow--but it has balanced itself out with good friends, loving family and precious moments.  I guess I'd have to add there has been a lot humour here to!!  Humour plays a large part in my psyche.  It makes me feel good. So when I say to Chris, as I have been lately, "I don't feel a lot of humour today" It makes us both sad.

I have been suffering from a side-effect to an antibiotic which was prescribed for a rash that appeared on my legs.  After almost finishing the medication, which had various agressive side effects on me, I suddenly started to develop a rash on both of my arms.  This rash became more painful than the original complaint! The doctor prescribed an ointment, (probably afraid to combat with yet another antibiotic) and I am gradually healing--but it had been especially annoying.  Don't you just hate that!

Before I went to the doctor we stopped at a chemist shop last Sunday in desperation, and he prescribed for me a stronger anti-histamine, combined with creme which contains amongst its healing agents  - calamine lotion- the good ol' stand-by! It has been these two products that have really come to my rescue.

At the moment the rash on my arms is clearing - it's about time!- and I am beginning to feel my ol' self again.  I have missed me.....

View from the front of our home

It is just past dawn, and I just grabbed my camera and took some photos of my immediate surroundings around our home-- I just can't explain how peaceful and beautiful it is to live here...we feel blessed every day.

I hope you enjoy the photos, as the trees and flowering shrubs change here, I will include them...but for now- except for my stupid kicking feet, I'm going to try to enjoy what this day brings.  I hope you do too!

This beautiful flowering shrub grows underneath
the palms outside of my study window

These are our Shrinkles, which originally belonged to
Chris' Mum. We love them as they are so whimsical!

Soa Soa

We recently went to the Cairns Tropical Zoo--which is becoming a favourite of mine, and I got the opportunity to once again observe and spend some time with one of my favourite 'inmates'!  It is a Soa Soa or Philippine Sailfin Lizard.  Now in reality I am not a great fan of either snakes or lizards but I do like admiring the large or unusual ones while I am safely protected by the glass enclosure...but somehow this lizard affected me differently.  He has both times I have had the pleasure of interacting with him.

He has such personality and really responds to movement and me!  When I was there the other day I gently touched the glass cage wall and he stopped and looked at me, and then as I moved my finger he followed it, very quickly!  I had so much fun playing with him!  At one stage as he moved backward and forward in his glassed enclosure, he even tried to climb the glass to get a better view of me, or what I was doing....he would then stop and raising a leg and paw, would 'wave' at me as he stared at me, as much as I stared at him.  I especially loved it when he did that, and I was flat out trying to remember to take photos of him at the same time....

 

When I started to spend so much time with him, and was making him respond to my actions, other people in the area began to slow down and stop to see what I was doing.  He would stop his actions and just sit still, and yet when they left, and just I was alone with him, he would start to perform again for me.. I had so much fun with him!

After awhile, Chris and I decided to leave and catch up with Flip and the grand kids who were busy feeding the kangaroos,  so I sadly said goodbye to my Soa Soa, and he watched my every move as I yet again took another photo of him, promising him that this wouldn't be my last visit!  He watched me start to close my camera, and just stood transfixed....I knew then that he was very photogenic and wanted more photos, so I obliged..this is a photo of him posing--and believe me, he was posing!

 

I promised to come back to see him, and just as I was turning to leave a young couple came up and started to see what I was looking at. I explained to them that if they took the time, this little guy would attempt to talk with them to, and putting my finger against the glass where his nose was--I said goodbye, and he instantly put up his leg on the glass, as if to say good-bye for now....What an interesting guy he was--now he could very easily turn me into a lizard aficionado!!

 

 

 

 

Lemon drops

Our 3 grandchildren and Flip are visiting us for about a week, and it is lovely to have them here. It has made me reminiscent of my Grandma Julia, with her small, rounded, black leather bag, with the handles you held in you hand, not over your shoulder! She was much older than I, and along with the handbag, she had strong lace-up black leather shoes. She usually wore mid-calf light-weight patterned dresses, and with her once blond hair, now totally snow white, it was cut short and trimmed to her face. On special occasions she would put on her little black hat, in which she would insert through her hair a hat-pin. I used to love watching her do that, wondering how she never stuck it into her head....

On special Sundays she would come to our house for the normal chicken or beef Sunday roast. We usually ate this at about 1:00 pm, after Dad had gone to pick her up and bring her to our house for the day.

Eventually when we had all eaten enough, and the adults had rested enough, and Joyce and I had finished washing and drying the dishes enough, Dad would say:

"Who's up for a family drive?"

I loved family drives, they meant that we would drive around town, to have a look at things, stop perhaps at one of my favourite parks, and maybe later on, even get an ice-cream!

It's strange, but I don't remember Joyce coming on these family excursions that often. In my memory, I had Grandma all to myself, and would eventually end on laying on the car-seat in the back seat, with my head on Grandma's lap, when I had seen enough of town.  I now was just waiting for my ice cream treat, from the local Dairy Queen!

I spent a lot of time then, talking to Grandma, who was a bit deaf, and I would have to yell a bit more than normal, but that was OK--I didn't mind.  I liked talking to her, a lot.  Maybe it was because she never ignored me, or talked over me, or thought I was 'just a child!'.  So I talked even more, without her interrupting me, while Mum and Dad sat in the front seat, listening to the local radio station and commenting on what changes had taken place in town, since the last drive... when I think about it now, Grandma probably couldn't hear or understand what I would say, and during the process, would open her small, rounded, black leather hand-bag, and search for another one of my favourite treats.

She would find the sugar coated lemon drop in her Brach's plastic
'candy' bag, and would drop a lemon drop in my mouth, for me to
suck on. I still can taste them today, a bit tart, but with a nice sugar
coating! (Now that I think about it all, she probably did that to stop
me from talking, but I bet it didn't work...once I was on a roll, it
was just - 'Look out!')

We would drive down towards the Mississippi river area, but just off on the side of the road, not far from the City's Burlington Hawkeye newspaper and practically across the road from a large food commercial grocery store, was my favourite Dairy Queen.  A small white building which had glass serving windows that delivered ice cream treats of any description--including my favourite - chocolate frosted in a cone!

But bu the time I got back into the car, I would be squirming and trying to get the ice-cream off my shorts and shirt, as I rubbed away with my hands at the mess, and then re-rubbing them again onto a cleaner area on my clothes.  Grandma sometimes would open her black hand bag again, and pull out an embroidered, lace-edged handkerchief, and would attempt to get the goo off my face.  Her handkerchiefs always had a faint fragrance of lavender and something else - something light scented and sweet.

We would eventually arrive to Grandma's house where we would help her out of the car, and Dad would help her get settled into her home.  I usually came with also, so that I could play with my favourite tortoise shell based turtle ornament, and the very small porcelain thimble that could fit the finger of a fairy!  When Grandma was all settled and probably breathing a sigh of relief to be escaping me, I would give her a big squeeze hug, trying hard not to hurt her too much, and a kiss on her cheek, and look forward to seeing her next time! 

My Grandma was a special person to me, and I was determined that I would soon be teaching her to sing and dance -- but that's another story!

Sometimes it's hard to be positive...

The reason behind creating this blog was to write about positive experiences and even memories that have always made me smile, in a hope that it might make someone else smile for a while, and hopefully forget about any troubles that they may be going through.

But then I developed RLS. Restless Leg Syndrome.  It is an inherited disease, passed down from my Father's side of the family. (I wonder if my Swedish Grandmother had this?  She always favoured her legs as if they were an issue--but being a private person, she wouldn't have talked about it - at least, not with me.)  But some of her daughters and my Dad eventually developed it, and now I discover that my sister, and possibly her daughters have it or or showing signs of this debilitating and frustrating ailment.  There is no cure. That's it!  There just isn't--

As a result of RLS, legs jump in the night during sleep, due to uncontrollable leg muscle spasms.  I woke Chris up so many times in the past two years it had been a crazy time.  I didn't develop this syndrome until about 2.5 -3 years ago....Stupid legs I call them!  Anyway, last year after some amount of research on my part, and gathering all of the positive feedback and results I could, I discovered an intensive vitamin program that really works.  My legs have stopped jumping and my interrupted sleep patterns were beginning to improve--Sometimes I was getting up to 5-6 straight sleep hours--something I hadn't had for a long time.

Then the foot spasms started to occur.  This happened about a month ago...I'm lucky to get even 1-2 hours sleep straight--I wake up with burning feet, and they jump up from my ankle!  I got up very early about 3 mornings ago, as my feet were jumping and convulsing all over the bed....As I walked down the stairs I noticed that the front part of my ankle area as it connected to my foot was so sore, and tender to touch.  Obviously the convulsing had taken its toll on them. 

It is not a nice syndrome.  I just never knew about it.  Nobody ever really talked about it!  Nobody in my family had ever prepared me for what I could be going through--so here I am..battling with it. 

I have talked with my doctor, checking to make sure that the vitamin program I have designed is healthy and not harmful to me, and he agreed that my intensive vitamin program was healthy and couldn't harm me, but that there was little he could do to assist me, other than offer the same medication as one would for Parkinson's Disease.  Which by the way, only disguises this ailment, and often makes the side-effects worse, once going off the drug..

So here I am - each night I hope and pray that I will sleep longer--even 3-4 hours straight would be an improvement.  As you could guess, this is taking it's toll on me.  I have to push myself during the day to find the energy to keep going, and going back to bed after my first intensive vitamin program which needs to be taken with food, (which consists of fruit containing the potassium I need), usually means that my sleep pattern takes me into mid-morning or mid-day, depending on what kind of night I have had. 

Good thing I no longer have to go to a full-time job--I couldn't do it!

But I will conquer this - I am determined--there is a chance that my 2 daughters could inherit this, and this is why I am doing so much research, and testing it on me.  I don't want them to go through what I am going through.  I want to give them a solution.  I will, I know I will.

I'm a fighter and a survivor, and I will find a workable solution. Then the sun will shine again inside me, and I will fight these nasty dragons back to where they came from!  Believe me...I will!

My Apple Tree

When I was a little girl growing up, we had a tree in our backyard that had the greatest branches for climbing- I'm not sure what kind of tree it was--I guess as a kid I never noticed--maybe it was an apple tree?  But He - and yes the tree was a He - became one of my best friends! 

Picture of a good climbing tree

As my sister was 9 years older than I was, I hardly ever remember doing things with her when I was young--she was usually involved in being with her friends, which is fair enough- and even though I lived in a neighbourhood with a lot of kids - even they weren't always available to play- their parents were taking them on a holiday or they were going to the dentist or doctor or to visit their Grandmother - or they had to have a nap--I've already talked about the nap stuff - so sometimes, it was just Tree and Me!

Well, we had a lot of adventures together, and sometimes these adventures could go on all afternoon, until the kids in the neighbourhood came looking for me.  Sometimes they joined in and we built tents with old blankets and sheets on the lower branches, and planned an Indian uprising, or a pirates treasure hunt, but sometimes they just climbed up on the branches and sat in the tree with me. Some silly ones tried to be Cheetah from Tarzan and usually ended up falling off the branch they were swinging on, squealing like a monkey.  I don't remember any of us ever getting hurt on Tree.  I think he looked after us--me especially.

When I was about 7 or 8, my parents gave me a 2-wheeler bike for my birthday. It had been a bike previously owned by my sister, but Dad painted it red, and put on a new seat, and bell, and made it special just for me. (There is a story there too - about fire departments and smells--but that can be another day.....)  The only problem was it was a 26" bike and I wasn't.  I had never ridden a bike before, and this one was huge!  So, when Spring finally arrived, and the snow was gone, I would lean the bike against Tree, and Dad would hold onto the back of it, as I climbed Tree and sat on the bike.  I felt scared and wonderful at the same time--it took some time, but Dad helped me gain my balance, and we biked around the backyard, until he didn't have to hold onto the bike any longer, and it was just me!  One day I travelled out into my neighbourhood, and with Dad following, I only fell down once, scraped a knee, but let it bleed, and he helped me climb back on...eventually- I was a bike rider! A real bike rider!

As time does, I got older and maybe a bit more grown up, I might have been about 10 years old by then,  Tree and I would read a book - My favourite was Alice in Wonderland, and Tree would love it when I read out loud. I think He loved the voices that all of the characters had- and I loved reading to him.

I had made a lot of other friends by then, but I always took the time to remember Tree. I liked how He always listened, and I told him a lot of secrets and we worried together over problems, but no matter what  - He was always there!

The Witch in the Fireplace

OK...I am writing this story for Madison, my youngest daughter.  It doesn't paint a very nice picture of me, but in my defense, I blame it on the excess stress that I was going through with my husband and his cancer and my demanding hours at work at the time...still...that's not a good excuse.  But in reality, let's face it, at times my very active imagination can go too far and make me think and tell crazy stories.

The problem was that I was Maddie's story teller.  She loved them. So when I would get home at night from work and this little 4 - 5 year old had been bathed and fed, I would sit with her on the couch in the living room, and while she sat extremely close to me, rubbing my hair between her fingers (She loved my hair--it was sort of her security blanket), I would make up stories for her.  It was during this time that I discovered the Witch in the Fireplace!

Remember now, that I am telling you that I was probably...well almost certainly.. cruel.  It's not that I wanted to hurt her, I loved her!  I mean I was right there with her...but so was the Witch!

We had a red brick fireplace in our living room, and the couch that Maddie and I would sit on while watching TV, faced the fireplace.  Suddenly one night, during my story telling time, the Witch made her appearance in my imagination, and this is what happened:

In a very Witchy voice, the Witch suddenly screeched out in her high pitched somewhat piercing Witchy voice - "Hello there my Sweety!  I have just taken your Mother to my secret place in the Fireplace, and the only way you will ever see her again is if you kiss me on my Witchy cheek!"  Then with a wicked Witch like laugh her screech would rumble around the room!  Maddie just stopped holding my hair and stared at me. 

It never occurred to me at the time that she would believe that her Mother really was gone, and she was sitting next to the Witch who took her!  She was so scared, but that didn't stop that evil Witch who was now having fun.  "Come on Madison, give us a little kiss --show Witchy how brave you are!"  and then that same evil Witchy laugh would ring out again! 

By this stage Maddie's lower lip was starting to quiver, and she cried out very urgently:  "I want my Mummy!  Where is she?  Why did you take her?"  (Now mind you I was sitting directly next to Maddie, and I should have been ashamed of doing this to her--but all of my story telling over the years in all of my character's voices, had her convinced that at the moment the thing sitting next to her was a Witch!)

"C'mon deary, time is disappearing, and if you don't kiss me soon--you will never see your Mummy again!" With that another Witchy laugh would ring out.....

Keeping the Witchy voice going, that evil Witch would urge Maddie to kiss her, and that only the magic and love of that kiss would bring her Mummy back from the Witch's hold within the fireplace!

So, looking at the Witch, with by now a couple of tears beginning to brim in her eyes, she leaned over and very quickly kissed the cheek of the Witch sitting next to her!

"Oh, no Madison! You did it!  This ol' Witchy never thought you could be so brave---Oh no!"

And with that the Witch's squeaky, high pitched voice was replaced by her Mummy's yelling out:

"Maddie!  You did it!  You kissed that horrible creatures' cheek--you are so brave--thank you for loving me so much!  It was so scary in there---I just never want to go back!  I love you so much and missed you--I thought I would be in there forever!"

After that we kissed and hugged, and I held her for a long time.

(I know, I know!  I was a horrible person!  But her imagination kept urging me on---it was as crazy as mine!)

So--years later we talked about it, and I had to agree, my Witchy story was as cruel as my sister's Boogeyman story had been to me - but at the time it was so much fun!  I know - take me away!  Examine my crazy brain at the time.  But it happened....history repeating itself...Oh, God! I hope not!!

The Boogeyman

When I was a little girl I shared a bedroom with my sister, Joyce,who was nine years older.  For nine years she had ruled the roost, lived life her own way.   Then one day, my parents brought me home and she suddenly had another intruder thrust upon her.  She has told me that in the beginning she was excited to have a little sister, but was soon pushed to the side by aunts and relatives, and told not to touch the baby, and be careful of the baby and don't hurt her!  Over time, her resentment against this so called baby began to grow, until finally she tried to take revenge.  She was caught supposedly trying to throw me down the staircase, and thank goodness, she was caught in time! (I'm not sure if that is fact or fiction--but it adds to this story!)

As the years passed, she sought revenge in much more imaginative ways, but the major revenge was the Boogeyman!  He lived in the closet of our bedroom, a rather large walk-in closet that not only held our clothes but also had a roll-top desk in one end, but also a large trunk which my Grandmother had brought over from Sweden when she and her family emigrated to the USA.  It was in the further end of the closet, and the light didn't get down there very well.  The whole closet was lined with dark wooden wainscoting walls, with silver insulation backing them.  The small bits of silver insulation would 'peek' through the wainscoting in certain areas, and this was described to me by my sister as 'Fairy dust'.  I was fascinated to know that these walls were the entrance to fairy land! In my very own closet!  I was probably about 4 or 5 when these stories started, so I believed everything that Joyce said.

But while the idea of fairies in my closet fascinated and excited me, there was also danger. Joyce told me that hiding in the trunk in the other end of the closet was a Boogeyman, and a very scary one at that! She told me about how he really didn't like me, and that I should never go into that end of the closet or even attempt to open that trunk. If I did he may jump out and try to grab me, and hurt me really badly. When he got angry he would turn many awful colours, and could even try to eat me! So although it was exciting that there were possible fairies to be seen in one end - the other end of the closet scared me to death!

One particular day stands out in my mind.  We were both in our bedroom, and I was just sitting on my bed, playing with one of my dolls.  Joyce suddenly announced:  " I think I'll go to Fairy Land today.  I think they are missing me!"

"Oh really?" I replied, "Would you take me too?  I really want to meet them--please!!"

"I've already told you...they don't really like you..I think it's because you are taking up too much room here."

"But, I won't!  I'll do anything. I promise!"

"Well, I'll ask them. If they say it is OK, I'll come back and get you straight away, but if not - well--I'll just stay there for a while and play with them and eat their Fairy sweets."

"Oh, Please, Joyce!  Tell them that I'm just little and won't take up any space anywhere--I just really want to meet them - you know that I believe in them and love them so very much!"

Smiling, Joyce just warned, "Well, I can only do what I can do! But remember about the Boogeyman!  Don't go into the closet, and whatever you do--don't go anywhere near that ol' nasty looking trunk!  I know he doesn't like you, and it's getting harder for me to get him to stay inside there, and not come out and get you during the night!"

With tears running down my cheeks, I cried out " Please don't leave me.  I'm scared! Don't go!"

"But I have to!  The Fairies keep calling me in their fairy voices!  Can't you hear them?"

I sat and listened very closely, and then really crying now I blubbered " No!  I can't hear them.  I can't hear anything except for noises in there...."

"I'll have to go quickly now--I think the Boogeyman is getting angry--I'll have to try to put something on the trunk to keep him in there---don't go anywhere near there--I mean it!"

And with that she was gone.  She opened the door to the closet, turned on the light, then closing the door--she yelled out "Go away!  You're a nasty thing!  Don't hurt my little sister- she can't help it she is here--go away!"

Then it was quiet.  Very quiet.  I sat there for a long time, and listened and waited. Nothing happened.  I was so scared.  What if the Boogeyman had eaten Joyce because he hated me so much!  I really didn't know what to do....I wanted to run and get Mum, but she would be busy watching her Soaps, and I knew she wouldn't believe me.  I just layed down on my bed, and cried, and hoped that if I stayed very quiet, the Fairies would know I was a good girl, and they would let Joyce come back and get me....I waited, and I cried.....

But a lot of time passed, and Joyce was still gone.  I was getting scared that something had happened to her.  So, getting up and wiping my eyes and nose with my arm, I carefully and very quietly opened the closet door--the light was still on, but I couldn't see Joyce anywhere--I very carefully looked down towards the trunk, but couldn't see anything different.  If the Boogeyman had eaten Joyce wouldn't there be a bone or hair or something left?  I looked as hard as I could without getting too close to the trunk, just in case. 

Then I came up towards the Fairy end, where the light was.  There was more Fairy dust on the floor, and I figured Joyce must have been rescued by the Fairies!  I was happier now--I knew that if I went back and sat down very quietly on my bed, she would be back and take me to Fairy land with her.  So I went quietly back to the bedroom, and shut the closet door behind me.  I sat very patiently on my bed, trying very hard not to cry anymore, so that the Fairies would like me, and I waited ...and waited.

After a long time, Joyce opened the closet door and holding a lollipop in her hand, she smiled and said:

"I tried very hard to talk with the Fairies--especially when they came to help me fight with the Boogeyman!  Boy! He really doesn't like you!  Anyway, the Fairies helped me get him back into the trunk, and then they took me away!"

"But why didn't you come back and get me?" I sniffled, looking at her with tears starting to run down my cheeks again.  "I was being very good, and very quiet!"

"They just said No!" she replied, licking the lollipop and said "Sorry!  I'll try again next time.  Just don't go near that trunk ever!  The Boogeyman was very ugly this time!"

"But why don't the Fairies like me?" I asked in a shaky voice, "I'm not a bad girl!"

"I dunno.  They just don't --c'mon--let's go downstairs and see what Mom is doing"

With that, she was up and heading for the stairs. "Oh, and by the way -- don't say anything to Mom--the Boogeyman doesn't like her either!"

Then she was gone, and I quietly followed, wiping the tears on my arm again.


At times I think though, that I still hear the fairy laughter, and the boogie man sometimes snorts in the dark corners at night.....no matter where I am!


Footnote:  After thinking about it, I decided to include the fact that the Joyce that was then in my childhood, isn't the same Joyce that exists in my present life.  She is loving and caring and understands what damage she did to me.  Doesn't excuse it though!  There are other stories of other things that she did over the years--but I think that you get the idea from this one!!

Birthday for our first born baby!

Just recently Bronwyn celebrated her birthday..we as a family love birthdays and celebrate them with love, and gifts and balloons and fun--She was in Rocky, but still had the presents to unwrap, which we left when we were there recently.  It sounds as though she had a great day--as it always should be--each year needs to always be celebrated...but there are memories of birthdays with her that were fun, exhausting, and sometimes a struggle...

...OK..since you asked nicely, I'll tell you..

When she was being born, it started out on the 14th of July, but her Dad's birthday was on the 15th!  He really wanted to have her born on his birthday, but hey!  What could I do about it, I mean when the baby wants to be born - well then, it just happens...but the day dragged on, and the night rolled on into late, exhausting hours.  It suddenly became close to midnight, and holding his breath, John looked at his watch more than he looked at me, or what I was going through--suddenly the magical hour of midnight appeared and he shouted out in excitement: "OK, Jan--let her rip!  It's the 15th!" Not the best words he could have used, and at that stage, if I could have reached him, I really would have hit him--but a few hours later she was born, and our first-born baby was finally here!  It was a great celebration!  ( I have to insert at this stage, that as he held her for the first time, he went pale, and almost fainted--the nurses grabbed him and her, and rescued the moment! I'll never forget it!)

As both John and Bronney shared the same birthday there was always noise, excitement and (for me, a lot of work!)  There was once just one cake, and then eventually 2 cakes - one for Bron and her little parties, and one for John and family and friends--eventually we worked out a system, and still managed to celebrate each birthday somewhat separately when it involved family and friends.  But just for us, it was a great morning of presents and laughter and balloons.  It was fun that they shared the same day, and we always tried to celebrate the specialness of it all.

As Bron got older, she loved having birthday parties, and I always tried to theme the parties to whatever her current fad of toy or happiness was.  We had Strawberry Shortcake parties, Cabbage Patch kids parties, etc, and associated games for all the kids.  I always tried to provide the same themed party prizes, and each guest went home with their own party present along the same lines. However, I still at that stage did not understand the party bag.  The little bag of lollies and things you hand to each child as they leave the party.  During Bron's parties, I had a large bowl of lollies for the kids to help themselves, and as I stated I provided a present for each party guest.  But without the bag of lollies at the end- it was a flop of a party according to them...took me a while to realise what I was doing wrong, err right, but wrong--you know?!

But the party games were a great challenge--not to create, or even have happen, but to control Bron from trying to win each prize!  She always was (and still is!) very competitive - (even she would admit it), at games, and especially games with prizes--she wanted them all!  Not the point of the party games really though, was it!! 

So I would distract her, or trip her, or do anything to let the others win, until at one party she got angry and wanted the prize.  I had to interfere, and make up a reason why the other 'winner' should have the prize, and pulled Bron aside and told her to stop competing--well--that was like adding fuel to the fire--she went crazy!  Eventually I just gave up and gave the other prizes to the kids who hadn't won yet--for best smile--best runner, anything--and just kept Bron away from the prizes.

After that particular party, I had to pull her aside and tell her what a disappointment her attitude had been, and promised her that because of it, she couldn't have a party the following year.  It killed me, but I kept my word, and I think it made her think about it all..because the year after that she understood and was happy to share the prizes--just hated not being the winner!!

Now I haven't ever tried to claim that I am a great cake maker--actually I suck at it.  I can bake them--sure--but make them pretty and successful?  For kids? Not really..I remember one cake at one of Bron's parties--I was baking it as I decorated the room for her party--always a lot of work to decorate and make it just party great!  Anyway-- eventually the two layers of cake had baked and I had them out to cool--still had to decorate them and add final touches to the party.  Well- the clock ticked on, and the party environment looked great, but the cake refused to cool fast enough, so decided to just go forward anyway,  I made the butter frosting, added the pink food colour and started to frost the layers.  It seemed simple enough, but when I tried to put the two layers together, the top one kept sliding off, and settling on a slant.  Try as I did, it just wouldn't cooperate--(I think it was possessed by the horrible anti-party thug- horrible things that they are.They creep in and try to destroy anything nice that is attempted, humphing under their thuggish breath, "Humph!" they rumble out, and even slobber and grab at dirt if they can reach it - horrible things!) So, desperate, I found some toothpicks and put them ever slightly in the bottom layer of cake and settled the top layer onto them.  Holding my breath, I waited.....the top layer stayed in place!  I finished decorating the cake with the relevant figurines and candles for the party theme, and placed the cake carefully in our cold room.  Whew--it was a relief to have that over, just as the first guest arrived!

Well the party rolled on, and it was eventually cake and photo time, I 'proudly' brought the cake out, which had so far been cooperating, but couldn't figure out how to remove the toothpicks from the cake.  So placing the cake in front of Bron for the photos and candle lighting, we eventually cut into it, and served it out.....with my warning: "Kids!  Eat around the wood--it is in there somewhere!"  My warning didn't scare them, and they ate happily, if not messily--probably occupied in looking for the wood!  I think they thought it was another party game!

As Bron got older, and moved out into her own home, as a single young woman on the go, birthdays still were a big thing!  A big part of the celebration was always the balloons and the pre-set-up!  We, as a family, always hung the relevant amount of balloons to the persons age--by this time Bron was 20 something.  I was stuck at work in a late meeting, and Bron was away or at work, so it was up to Chris to do the decorating.  We must have had a key to her house, as he let himself in, set down our presents, and started blowing up the balloons.  He had the balloons hanging from her lounge room ceiling and around, along with the streamers. I came over after my work finished, just in time to see him complete it all!  It looked great!!  We went home with big smiles on our faces knowing that Bron would get the big surprise when she got home.

As I said, Birthdays are a big thing in our family!!

Bear with me guys!

I have two blogs coming--working on them simultaneously (whew! That's a big word!)  Both are totally different from each other- but hopefully worth waiting for..life here has been crazy lately!

"How can a person write!", she said to herself!

I promise--could be worth reading.....maybe a memory jerker--maybe scary!  Who knows!!

Luv ya!

Strap and Squirt and their peculiar lttle ways

I really love Strap and Squirt, but they sure do know how to work me to play on my sympathies, and get their own way--most of the time anyway..sort of like when our girls lived with us.  I usually always gave in, and Maddie especially really knew how to work me. I used to tell her that it's not fair when she used her eyes in the Puss in Boots (Shrek) sort of way--but she did!  And I would be :"Doomed as doomed could be, you know!"-Ed Grimley

Well, Strap does the same thing. 

His key position is to sit at the back patio doors and look through the glass at me, especially when it is just me in the room.  He really plays me.  Because he sheds so much hair, I am not letting him come inside so often, unless I really have planned a good cleaning day, when it doesn't matter, because I will clean it all up soon anyway! 

But on normal days, he just and puts his nose against the glass even, and with his eyes, asks me why
I'm not playing with him!  Guilt!  He's a good guilt Master! (I wonder if he was a good Jewish Mother in a former life) - Sorry if I have insulted any Jewish Mothers - but you know what I'm talking about!

Look at those eyes--c'mon! I'd have to have a cruel heart to refuse that look!  9 times out of 10 - Strap wins!  Don't you just hate that!  I mean, I should know better, Maddie knew I should know better, Strap knows I should know better, --but do they care? No!  They have their eyes, and their not afraid to use them!

Eventually, I usually give in, and agree to play ball with Strap.  This involves me throwing his favourite colour of ball - yes- he chooses his favourite colour of ball each day, based maybe on his mood and all.  (I know , you are telling me that dogs only see in black and white tonings- yea yea--but this is Strap--who knows with him- he identifies everything by colour!

We went down South recently for family issues, and to stay with Bron and family while we dealt with the other issues.  Before we left, I made sure that Christine, our wonderful animal person would be available to feed and look after Strap and Squirt.  She is brilliant- she comes in, plays with them, and then feeds them and leaves, when she knows they are OK.  Anyway, with the note I left for her, I included a new purple tennis ball, for her to give to Strap.  Apparently it was the only ball he would play with.  He has days when he will only choose his pink ball. even if we throw the blue ball!  He now has green, pink, blue and purple...I'll test him out on his choices--but he hasn't disappointed me yet in how he chooses his balls. He kills me!  There's some deep intelligence there, hidden by the eyes! Darn those eyes!

Anyway, as soon as Squirt sees me outside, she starts to use all of her language skills- dredging up old phrases even - anything to get my attention - so while I am throwing balls for Strap to bring back directly to me, Squirt is squawking:
"Wake up!" "Strap", "Squirt", "Like it!" and whistling like mad...any sound she can think of--and I am repeating them to her--it is often chaotic out there--but fun!