I really don't know what the weather was like 41 years ago today. but I hope for my mother's sake, it was tad nicer that it is today! Brrrrr
I also wish I had more details about the day of my birth. What was it like for my parents in those hours leading up to my arrival? Did Mom have a difficult time? Was Dad at the hospital, pacing the halls? Or, was he at home watching my older sister, Marilyn and waiting for a phone call? I wonder if Mom's parents were there for my delivery? Why I don't even know what time I arrived at either?
It makes me wish that I had asked my Mum more questions about my birth. But, when you're young, you are so busy living, you don't always ask the right questions. I remember asking my Dad & Marilyn a few years ago if they remember anything of my birth, but neither of them were much help. I got two different answers on the time of my arrival - midnight and mid-afternoon. Dad thought he was out working in the field (harvesting/threshing) Note likely as it was the end of September. Unless he was harvesting corn...Hmmmmm
Marilyn later told me, the Doctor who delivered me had passed on some time ago. Interestingly enough it was by suicide. Ack! Perhaps a check on the local record books might give me the answers I'm looking for.
I've never had the maternal urge. (except when it comes to caring for animals) There's been no biological clock ticking, chiming or cuckook'ing away. No interest in babysitting or even oogling young mothers little cooing bundles. Although, I can appreciate a cute baby or an adorable, well behaved imp. I have never had a desire to have one of my own!
Kudos to those who do! But, I'll stick to my dogs, cats and any other creature that need some of my TLC thanks!
Miss you Mom - Feb/01 & Dad - Dec/04 - RIP
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Preserving & Canning
Having recently read an article on Home Canning in the Mother Earth News, I was inspired to write about my own canning experiences. And, those I hope to create in the future!
Canning was very much a part of my childhood. Dad, especially came from an era/lifestyle where it was essential to put up goods from not only the garden but from the local waters as well.
Yes, that's right, they canned fish! Although I have no idea how they did it. But I must assume a pressure cooker was involved and then they packed the fish in vegetable oil. So, it would be quite similar to sardines or mackeral.
As for my childhood memories...
There were jams and marmalades, mostly strawberry and either an orange or a pineapple zuchinni marmalade.
Pickles!
Dills, bread & butter and I believe icicle pickles were made. Mustard beans, hot dog relish and chilli sauce!
Fruits!
We canned a ton of pears too. Lots and lots of Bartlett pears. We also sold pears by the basket full and on a really good year, by the bushel. This, all from one tree, often with supports beneathe its branches to support the weight of the fruit. Needless to say, I was saddened by the loss of this amazing tree in May 1985, when a small tornado went through. A relative of the one that did major damage in Barrie, ON.
We often would stock up on fresh peaches as well, nothing quite like canned peaches in mid-January! Yum!
And of course, there was the tomatoes, we always canned tomatoes. Not stewed or sauces, just plain ol' tomatoes, with maybe a little salt. Dad would often be up until the wee hours of the morning, ladling these red beauties into sterilized yars. You'd go to bed smelling them and wake up smelling tomatoes
If it wasn't canned then it was frozen! Peas, beans, corn, berries, rhubarb, currents, and probably some I've forgotten along the years.
I long for the day when I am able to can and preserve again. I don't have proper storage, space or the equipment to do much at this point. But, I believe we all have to be more resourceful and re-learn these ways. Besides, it tastes so good on a cold winters night!
Canning was very much a part of my childhood. Dad, especially came from an era/lifestyle where it was essential to put up goods from not only the garden but from the local waters as well.
Yes, that's right, they canned fish! Although I have no idea how they did it. But I must assume a pressure cooker was involved and then they packed the fish in vegetable oil. So, it would be quite similar to sardines or mackeral.
As for my childhood memories...
There were jams and marmalades, mostly strawberry and either an orange or a pineapple zuchinni marmalade.
Pickles!
Dills, bread & butter and I believe icicle pickles were made. Mustard beans, hot dog relish and chilli sauce!
Fruits!
We canned a ton of pears too. Lots and lots of Bartlett pears. We also sold pears by the basket full and on a really good year, by the bushel. This, all from one tree, often with supports beneathe its branches to support the weight of the fruit. Needless to say, I was saddened by the loss of this amazing tree in May 1985, when a small tornado went through. A relative of the one that did major damage in Barrie, ON.
We often would stock up on fresh peaches as well, nothing quite like canned peaches in mid-January! Yum!
And of course, there was the tomatoes, we always canned tomatoes. Not stewed or sauces, just plain ol' tomatoes, with maybe a little salt. Dad would often be up until the wee hours of the morning, ladling these red beauties into sterilized yars. You'd go to bed smelling them and wake up smelling tomatoes
If it wasn't canned then it was frozen! Peas, beans, corn, berries, rhubarb, currents, and probably some I've forgotten along the years.
I long for the day when I am able to can and preserve again. I don't have proper storage, space or the equipment to do much at this point. But, I believe we all have to be more resourceful and re-learn these ways. Besides, it tastes so good on a cold winters night!
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Moods & Transitions
I don't quite understand it myself really, but tonight I'm feeling a profound sense of sadness. Almost a overwhelming feeling of disappointment tagging along for good measure. I'm not even completely sure what triggered this mood. It could be a few friends who are sad, some who are angry and others frustrated by the lives. I know I'm sensitive, but sometimes peoples moods affect me. It's as if I'm too much in tune with the emotions of others and haven't developed a suitable enough defense system to keep them at bay. I've been successful at fending the emotions off at times, but tonight it was too much, overload time.
Sometimes I think the changing of the seasons, generally from Summer to Autumn is a sad period for me. The short days, longer nights, cooler temperatures, lack of green, migration of songbirds and the passing of time all begin to make their presence known. I know Fall can be a beautiful time of the year, but in some ways it can feel like a passing. And, November is the greyest, dreariest month of all, with the only bright moment is a day at the Royal Winter Fair.
Ironically, I was born in the month of September, at the very end of the month, the cusp into October. You would think I would have more fondness for this time of the year, but as I grow older, that's all it is, another year older and no excitement for the upcoming Season. Winter!!!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
La Mia Vita...
At what point does a house, become a home? What does a home mean to you? Is it just a place to lay your head and hang your hat? Or does it mean so much more?
I've lived in many houses and apartments over the years. But very few actually felt like "Home". Of course the home I grew up in had the "Homey" feeling. And out of the 10-12 residences I've occupied since, I would have to say only 2 gave me the warm fuzzies. One, was a raised bungalow basement apartment in Guelph, where I lived through 2 major dusty renovations and the other place, an almost new townhouse in Whitby. Dreadful neighbours on both sides of the townhouse, but loved the home. My present day place, is NOT one of these warm fuzzy homes.
Allow me to elaborate, this "unit" is owned by Fab's brother. (one of "those" landlords) We live 2 doors away from him, with wonderful neighbours inbetween us. It's a corner lot, with a transit stop on the busy street side. The lot size is about 60-something by 90-something. But, the whole back part of the property (which would make a lovely fenced garden) is used by his brother. It's called "The Compound". I call it the Junkyard because that's essentially what it is. Grrrrreat! The front of the lot is open and fronted with 2 large maple trees. (1 Silver & 1 Sugar) Great shade on a hot summers day and heaps of leaves in the Fall. The larger silver maple tends to shed branches & twigs whenever the wind is higher that say 30km/h. I'm a self-professed Tree Hugger, so I tend to be more forgiving of it's issues. Fab would have it cut down tomorrow. Honestly, it needs the gentle carass of an Arborist.
But I digress, back to the "Shack". (my term)
The Shack, I'm guessing was built sometime in the 30's. The quality and the workmanship declares that it might have been built by men on a chain gang. Those, who were forced to do manual labour in exchange for crackers, water and a toothpick. There's no basement, but a scary looking crawlspace. That, I fear if I was ever to enter, I'd pack my bags, grab Jabby and vanish. There's an archaic old gas furnace down there too. I hear it banging and it's shifts the floor when it comes on. Scaring the crap out of us all from time to time during the winter months.
The Shack is about half the size of the townhouse we were living in. So, we went from 1500 sq ft to about 800 sq ft. Aaaaaagh There is an attic-y type room upstairs that was probably a couple of children-sized (maybe trolls?) bedrooms at one time, but we only use it for storage. The stairs to reach it are as steep or steeper than the stairs at the Roman Coleseum. With little to no headroom and I'm only 5'4".
OH, and the bigger issue is the electrical or lack thereof system. Fuses, only 3 of them, for everything and I believe it's 30 or 40 amp service. We lost the bathroom outlet over a year ago, never been repaired and like the rest of the promises, we won't likely get the electrical panel upgrade either. Needless to say, you can't run the dryer and say, the vacuum cleaner, or the oven at the same time. My God, what century is this kids?
Before moving in 2 years ago, I had to strip off old wallpaper, paint, clean carpets and nag his brother to deal with a mold issue in what was to be our closet (room). Our bedroom is the living room and our dining room is the living room. It, the mold, was back a year or so later, anyone say BLEACH?!
The floors here are something out of a carney ride (lol) they go up and down, along with the walls and the ceilings. It's like the centre of the house has sunk or something like that. The galley kitchen, well, it's a converted lean-to..shhhh, do you hear the banjos too?
I've attempted to make it "home-like" and have put a some effort into the outside by developing flower gardens, improving the lawn and keeping things neat and tidy.
His brother had replaced some flooring, windows and had reshingled over the old shingled, wavy roof, the year prior to us moving in.
Interestingly, the garage is new! (brotherly love perhaps?) Fab's brother built it for him before we moved in. It's nicer than the house. Except, the first winter, with freezing and thawing, water came in through the block. It's a major thorn in Fab's side. His brother doesn't seem overly concerned, then again, it's not his stuff in there is it?
In reality, I think the biggest blessing for the Shack would be a High-Ho and a Dump Truck!
I've lived in many houses and apartments over the years. But very few actually felt like "Home". Of course the home I grew up in had the "Homey" feeling. And out of the 10-12 residences I've occupied since, I would have to say only 2 gave me the warm fuzzies. One, was a raised bungalow basement apartment in Guelph, where I lived through 2 major dusty renovations and the other place, an almost new townhouse in Whitby. Dreadful neighbours on both sides of the townhouse, but loved the home. My present day place, is NOT one of these warm fuzzy homes.
Allow me to elaborate, this "unit" is owned by Fab's brother. (one of "those" landlords) We live 2 doors away from him, with wonderful neighbours inbetween us. It's a corner lot, with a transit stop on the busy street side. The lot size is about 60-something by 90-something. But, the whole back part of the property (which would make a lovely fenced garden) is used by his brother. It's called "The Compound". I call it the Junkyard because that's essentially what it is. Grrrrreat! The front of the lot is open and fronted with 2 large maple trees. (1 Silver & 1 Sugar) Great shade on a hot summers day and heaps of leaves in the Fall. The larger silver maple tends to shed branches & twigs whenever the wind is higher that say 30km/h. I'm a self-professed Tree Hugger, so I tend to be more forgiving of it's issues. Fab would have it cut down tomorrow. Honestly, it needs the gentle carass of an Arborist.
But I digress, back to the "Shack". (my term)
The Shack, I'm guessing was built sometime in the 30's. The quality and the workmanship declares that it might have been built by men on a chain gang. Those, who were forced to do manual labour in exchange for crackers, water and a toothpick. There's no basement, but a scary looking crawlspace. That, I fear if I was ever to enter, I'd pack my bags, grab Jabby and vanish. There's an archaic old gas furnace down there too. I hear it banging and it's shifts the floor when it comes on. Scaring the crap out of us all from time to time during the winter months.
The Shack is about half the size of the townhouse we were living in. So, we went from 1500 sq ft to about 800 sq ft. Aaaaaagh There is an attic-y type room upstairs that was probably a couple of children-sized (maybe trolls?) bedrooms at one time, but we only use it for storage. The stairs to reach it are as steep or steeper than the stairs at the Roman Coleseum. With little to no headroom and I'm only 5'4".
OH, and the bigger issue is the electrical or lack thereof system. Fuses, only 3 of them, for everything and I believe it's 30 or 40 amp service. We lost the bathroom outlet over a year ago, never been repaired and like the rest of the promises, we won't likely get the electrical panel upgrade either. Needless to say, you can't run the dryer and say, the vacuum cleaner, or the oven at the same time. My God, what century is this kids?
Before moving in 2 years ago, I had to strip off old wallpaper, paint, clean carpets and nag his brother to deal with a mold issue in what was to be our closet (room). Our bedroom is the living room and our dining room is the living room. It, the mold, was back a year or so later, anyone say BLEACH?!
The floors here are something out of a carney ride (lol) they go up and down, along with the walls and the ceilings. It's like the centre of the house has sunk or something like that. The galley kitchen, well, it's a converted lean-to..shhhh, do you hear the banjos too?
I've attempted to make it "home-like" and have put a some effort into the outside by developing flower gardens, improving the lawn and keeping things neat and tidy.
His brother had replaced some flooring, windows and had reshingled over the old shingled, wavy roof, the year prior to us moving in.
Interestingly, the garage is new! (brotherly love perhaps?) Fab's brother built it for him before we moved in. It's nicer than the house. Except, the first winter, with freezing and thawing, water came in through the block. It's a major thorn in Fab's side. His brother doesn't seem overly concerned, then again, it's not his stuff in there is it?
In reality, I think the biggest blessing for the Shack would be a High-Ho and a Dump Truck!
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Tuesday September 1, 2009
How much longer do I have to suffer with allergies, I've had about all I can take! I think it's time to see the Doctor because when they hit, I can't function. Time for an allergy test and perhaps prescription meds. When I take an allergy pill, I get about 2, maybe 3 hours of relief and I don't think that's normal. We had such a damp and cool summer, theres a huge influx of weeds, molds and gawd knows what! Time to get back to normal summers and to move outta the shack!
Peace.......out
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