home is where your heart is, and the coffee mugs

I cannot move very freely in my apartment. It was already a bit overstuffed and now is beyond capacity. It is times like this that I would dearly love a little house with a basement. Somewhere with a lot of storage that is not the corner of my living room that should be a dining room. Those room divider screens have been a lifesaver. Two years ago, I moved my mother out of their house into a seniors apartment building. She wanted to take everything with her, which was a bit sentimental, but there were not enough boxes available to put it all in. Not to mention that the five room plus sunroom house with full basement and big yard was a lot larger than her one bedroom with tiny balcony apartment. I had a friend who told me her mother ended up taking a two bedroom apartment in her seniors building that became available two weeks before she was to move because she could not let go of her furniture or china collection. She was thrilled. My friend, not so much.

The move in '06 was an ordeal. After three weeks, only five boxes were packed. I had to get her in this apartment before the World Cup started and my time became very limited. Didn't happen. The TV was on the whole time, a match being watched out of the corner of my eye and cheering or groaning done while every item had to be scrutinized and exclaimed over and decided: keep, donate, give to someone in the family, toss out, think about some more, pack immediately, put back in the drawers to be rediscovered anew days later. She hated to throw anything out. ANYTHING. No matter how useless, broken or insignificant, or duplicated. Don't get me started on the aluminum pie plates. The extra sets of linen, the dishes and cutlery bought for when we had the trailer in the 70's, and again when the dishwasher came into the kitchen in the 80's. Every piece of Tupperware bought in the 50's and 60's. And everything she ever bought, but had not yet used, was still in it's original bag. Many of these bags showing an evolution of design and some were from department stores that no longer existed: Eaton's, Simpsons, KMart, Kresge's, Woolworth's... Many presents were discovered, unused. Many souvenirs bought and never looked at again. It was a veritable Tickle Trunk (Mr Dressup reference) in that linen closet of hers. Actually, sometimes that was the fun part: the trip down through the memories. And, because I was the only one helping, I scored the best of the 60's and 70's gadgets and accessories.

This time, the clearout is less time consuming. Not as much has to be scrutinized. We decide who gets to keep something for ourselves or it gets donated. But, after so many years, some things just cannot be blithely tossed. It gets brought home, either mine or my brother's, just because, and we'll keep it, unused, for a certain amount of time then likely wonder why it was ever so important.

Tupperware circa 1954, anyone? Collectors?

morning has broken

Today it is a spraying, hissing sound. And the generator noise. Yesterday there was drilling. And hissing. And generator. The day before it was drilling and generator and the screeching thwack of metal being dropped. And the day before that, still drilling and generator and the beep, beep of a truck moving up and down the ramp carrying stuff. After everyone leaves, it is the snapping of the yellow caution tape looped loosely through the chain link fence and the flapping of the plastic wrapping that is half on/half off the piles of lumber.

This is outside my bedroom window in the parking lot below. Seven of the ten summers I have lived in this (otherwise quiet) building have been engulfed in construction noise. The crew starts at around 7am. I get home from work around 6:00am.

This makes me a wee bit grumpy around this time of day. (8:30am)

And downright snarly around noon.

Need coffee.

restless

Yes, I've been playing around with the templates and colours again. I didn't realize I had so many options; I thought you had to take what was offered, but no, I can mess around with as many colour combinations as I want. What fun!

This may happen a few times. Get used to it.

If you think this is annoying, try living with me. I used to rearrange the furniture and kitchen cupboards at least every three months. I still change the shower curtain to a completely different pattern and colour at least four times a year. And it is now time to change into my summer colour scheme (turquoise & green).

I'm not sure I like this one, but let me know if you really hate it.

Mother's Day

In Memory

of

M. M.

Jan 1917 - Apr 2008

The Birds

Lambs, calves, and sheep, if you live in Scotland or Wales beware of the Ravens attacking you.
Ravens were almost extinct in Britain in the 19th century. Now they are back and retaliating by making sheep extinct. The attacks are apparently so horrific, they are "causing mental suffering to the people who find the animals".

Japanese crows are bigger, more agressive and downright scarier than American crows. They are entertaining themselves by causing blackouts by nesting on hydro poles and decorating said nests with fibre optic wire. They have also been known to occasionally take candy from little children.


And at home.....

There are now three chicks at the Sheraton Hotel Peregrine Falcon scrape!

Clive the pigeon has disappeared, and haven't seen or heard Jack and Vera in a few days.

So, have scraped and brushed and vacuumed the carpet. Am now, finally, having my coffee on my empty balcony.

Needs flowers.

my brain says:

The cat had been sleeping on my chest again. So I woke up, moved and choked on a cloud of cat hair. My brain said something unpleasant followed by something that sounded an awful lot like "coffee". I could be wrong about that, but that's what I chose to hear.

I didn't want to get out of bed, but since I was awake, and since I had nothing pressing to do today (hooray!) and since it looked to be a lovely day out, I did the usual things to make myself less depraved looking and headed out on the bike path towards the local coffee house (LCH). The 'bike path route' is a bit of a misnomer as only about 100 yards is actually a path before heading through parking lots and sidestreets. Still. The other option is the 'Lakeshore Route', which really is just the name of the street as the actual bit that goes directly along the lake shore is beyond the LCH.

This is how my mind has been working lately. A bit scattered, a bit semantic.

About two and a half blocks before getting to the LCH, I pass by the local public house (LPH). Now pubs are not known for good coffee, but it did have a patio with all the necessary accoutrements: namely tables, chairs and unfurled umbrellas. And a server. I hesitated. Offered up a Good Afternoon to the server.

The blue sky, the white clouds, the pink cherry blossoms, the yellow forsythia, the red and purple tulips, the lime green of the new leaves against the gold of the church dome. And the amber glow of the lager. Altogether a colourful afternoon. Perfect.


Came home to find the cat sleeping on the pillow. Not quite so perfect.

A Big Shout Out to Madame X and her Chicks!

Had a glance over at the Hamilton Peregrine Falconcam just now and saw a perfect view of Madame X (pictured) and the first two newborns (one hatched on May 6, the other this morning! Well before Mother's Day). Two tiny bits of fluffy white, two brown eggs.

Madame X (originally from PA) has made Hamilton ON her home since 2001. Her history and that of the other falcons who have wandered this way is on the Hamiltonnature.org site. (see side bar for link, the other link from Lansing MI is there because Stelco, who has taken up residence at a power station, was born at the Sheraton Hotel in 1997 and we like to keep track of her, too) The webcam is refreshed frequently enough to make it a captivating movie. Though, admittedly, sometimes it is very much like a still movie. If you really get into it, you can join the Falcon Watchers who are prepared to keep track of the baby falcons as they grow from fluff balls to having true flying feathers. There is something enthralling about watching the flapping about, the flying lessons and the aerial acrobatics.

At the moment they have taken up residence at their usual hotel ledge (I do feel for the paying guests as they can get quite vocal in their demands for food!)

I'll write more about Madame X and Surge and her family later. Right now I'm heading back to the webcam to ooh, and ahh, and how cute, are they!

Everybody together: ahh, aren't they just so adorable now!

freerice=feelgood

When I was younger, my father used to subscribe to Reader's Digest. I think I eagerly awaited its arrival more than he did. I would pore over its contents in a very methodical manner, starting with Laughter is the Best Medicine, then page by page for the cartoons and jokes then maybe the True Story (such drama!) but not before settling into the real business: Increase Your Word Power. I don't know where my love of words came from, but I believe my appreciation for words and lexicology started there. As a teenager, it was not altogether uncommon for me to curl up in the swivel rocker with a dictionary. It was not something I admitted freely to just anyone.

Since October 2007, a site called FreeRice.com uses the same vocabulary game but with a twist: for every word you get right 20 grains of rice is donated to the UN World Food Programme. The first day, 830 grains of rice were donated. As of this past weekend, 30,944,161,000 more grains have been donated.

Check out the site. It's not a registered charity, but the UN WFP has acclaimed its phenomenal success. In light of the current global rice crisis, this may be your easiest feelgood act of the day.

is it just me?

Sometimes, I feel so stupid. You would not believe how long I have been trying to get a "blogroll" started. I have tried many different options and got so thoroughly lost on ALL of them, that I fear I have now registered for umpteen different sites all begining with blog___. I'm now going to spend hours trying to deactivate my accounts with all of them. No, not really. I'll just pretend they never existed, and delete them from my memory. Tonight, I just sort of crashed into exactly what I needed, and it all fell into place. Within minutes I had it rolling. Then I spent another happy hour trying out new templates, and colours, only to return to the original (except I couldn't remember what colours I had.....)

waiting by the garden gate

An update is in order. I have received supporting words from a couple of people who have looked in on my newly established writings, so I feel someone is out there, still reading, starting to care....
After a couple of weeks of watching my mother shrink to a seemingly impossible size, her heart gave out and she is at rest at 91 years of age. I treasure the two weeks she was in hospital, for the safety of care, but mostly for witnessing her sense of humour and feistiness. Much of her humour was not present with her family over the last many years, and my brother and I were amazed at her jokes and stream of instant one liners. In spite of what seemed obvious to us, she never gave up hope of getting heart surgery and going back to her little apartment. And in spite of being scared she was happier than I'd seen her in a long time. Of course, having someone with her almost constantly and being waited on hand and foot by so many caring nurses must have helped. We all need to be taken care of. And hopefully, there will be people waiting by the garden gate for our eventual return to the loving fold of old friends and family.