I have to admit, plows scare me. It is a phobia. I have never been hurt by a showplow but there is a deep seated fear, somewhere inside of me. It doesn't matter if it is the plow on my husbands truck or the plow for the 4 wheeler or the one on the plow truck.
I can drive by the plow truck in my vehicle and I am ok with that, but walking on the road, if I see it coming at me, I get scared. I want to panic and run screaming away from that truck. If I walk out in the yard and my husband has the plow on his truck, I give it wide berth. For some reason I am terrified of falling and smashing my face on it. I have never done that. I have never even dreamed about it but EVERY time I walk past that thing, I think about it happening. I can almost feel it happening in that painless "dream" sort of way. You know it would have to hurt but you can't feel it.
I went out today to put the compost out and couldn't walk to the composter the way I usually do as a tarp was in the way. I had to walk past the 4 wheeler plow. Same old fear. That thing is tiny. Not intimidating. Not once when actually using that thing did I worry about it, even when the control rod for raising/lowering it came back and whacked me in the knee so hard that I could barely walk. It didn't scare me. But put me in front of that thing sitting on the ground, harmlessly, and my heart starts to race. I HAVE to walk past it to get to the composter...but I managed to get by it without getting TOO close.
It is stupid, I know it...and I can't help it. And what bugs me is one of my kids told me a couple of years ago about this fear they have of the plow on their fathers truck! I have NEVER told them about my fear and I try not to show it. Are fears inbred? I kind of think so. And here is why.
I told my mother once that wind makes me have the heebie jeebies. It makes me all crawly. I want to hide under the bed. It is like a fear of the sound of wind. For most people it is a comforting sound..."let the wind roar around the house, but I am safe and warm". For me, it is a horrible sound and not comforting at all. When I mentioned this to mom, she told me that she feels the same way. I had never known it. Mom was scared of NOTHING, or so I thought. Then she told me that my grandmother was the same way. Gram? Scared of wind? I didn't think it possible, but she is. I never would have guessed it.
I suppose there could have been subtle clues, but I don't think so. After all, what can you do when the wind blows? And I never saw my gram or my mom show fear of the wind. But the fear is there just the same. I honestly believe it has been passed on.
Now, my fear of heights...that is different. When I was younger I was not afraid of heights. As I got older, I didn't think much about the fear, I just knew it was there and it was bad. I would actually end up feeling physically sick and in tears if I tried to force myself to climb a ladder or look over the edge of a wharf or cliff. I figured that, since it had come on when I got older, it was a case of maturing.
One day I realized it was not a normal fear so I decided to find out when it started. I realized it started when I was around 16. I had been fishing off a lobster car and decided it was time to go home. I climbed the ladder and just as my hand hit the top rung, it rolled as often happens with wharf ladders. I lost my grip and fell back down. Of course, it was low tide. That might not be a big deal in other areas of the world, but in the Bay of Fundy, it certainly is a big deal as there is a 20+ ft difference between low and high tide. I landed over the side of a dory. My legs in the water and my upper half hanging into the boat. Thankfully I did not break any ribs although I did bruise them.
Friends came over and helped me back onto the car. Of course, being a teenager I was not going to show any weakness. I climbed back up the ladder and caught a ride home with my dad who worked on the ferry. It had just came in and there was an hours layover until the next trip. Home was only a 5 minute drive away, so he had no problem taking me home.
The fear didn't hit right then. It came on slowly. At first it was only really high heights. Then, eventually it was even standing on a chair. I could still stand on the chair, but I was very careful not to fall. And then fear of someone else falling. Watching someone on a ladder gave me a sick feeling and I would have to walk away. It was horrible when I had kids of my own and they began climbing trees. My youngest was part monkey, I am sure of it. One day when she was about 4 she was calling me to come outside. "I am stuck in the tree mommy!" and sure enough she was up about 15 ft or so. She couldn't get down. I had to tell her that I was not going to come up and save her but I would talk her down. My heart was hammering as I told her which foot to move and where to put her hands but together we managed. Thwat was not the only time she climbed. As she got older she climbed into the rafters of the new house we were building...I walked away so I didn't have to watch her. She knew I was afraid but it didn't bother her. Thankfully my older daughter didn't like heights much so she was less worry when it came to climbing.
I probably have other fears but they don't stand out like the ones I have previously mentioned. Spiders give me a start but unless they are the HUGE wood spiders, I can deal with them. I don't like it when they land on me out of "nowhere" but other than that, they don't bother me much. I didn't like snakes when I first moved here to this Island as the Island where I grew up has no snakes. I quickly realized it was either learn to like them or at least tolerate them or else my youngest daughter would be chasing me around the house.
I sometimes have to remember that other peoples fears are as unexplainable as my own. With some fears, there is a real danger. Others are just a phobia with no explanation. Like my fear of wind. If I lived somewhere where wind often did major damage, there would be some sort of explanation but since I don't, it is unexplainable. So when I find someone with a fear of birds, it is hard to relate since I have had birds of one sort or other for more than 20 years. When my friendly cockatiels scare people, I have to remember that it is an unexplainable fear for most, but it is as real as any other fear. Or maybe they had an issue with a bird at some time...kind of like my issue with June bugs...
June bugs are another thing that didn't bother me when I was younger but they do create a phobia in me now. I played with them as a child but after having to walk through dozens of them one night, while they flew around me and landed in my hair and clothing, I became creeped out by them. Since that time I have not been able to touch them or handle having them fly around me. A learned behaviour that has become a phobia.
So there you have it...plows, wind, heights and June bugs. Explained and unexplained fears. Phobias.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
At the beach after a storm.
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My daughter and I went for a walk on the beach the day after a storm. The waves were powerful and fun to watch. Although the beach was noisy, it wasn't a bad noise...wind and waves. And we had the whole beach to ourselves.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Favourite food?
Quite often I hear someone say "What is your favourite food?" I could answer that Ice Cream is my favourite food because I could eat Ice Cream every day and would not get tired of it. But there are so many other foods I like that I can't name just one.
I mentioned in an earlier blog about the Dutch candy that a friend sent me. Can't leave that out of the favourite food category. Just one taste of it takes me back to elementary school. I can almost see my friends, at elementary age. I can smell the chalk dust in the air and hear the teacher calling all the grades, (from 1 to 6) to order.
Sausages. Breakfast sausages to be specific. They were a special treat when growing up. We didn't generally have them for breakfast. They were for supper most times. Thinking of them makes my mouth water. I don't eat sausages often anymore. Too much cholesterol, too greasy..my stomach protests now.
Fried dough...another food I seldom have anymore...too fattening...but soooo good. My mom deep fried her dough. Golden chunks of dough floating around in the deep fat fryer. Hot out of the fat and onto plates. Dipped in table syrup, molasses, smothered in butter or, if we were lucky we had some real maple syrup to drench the dough in. Fried dough was a standard in our home on Saturday night. While many other families in this area considered (and still consider) Saturday night as "Bean night", we had fried dough.
Sundays was a simple fare and when my sister and I were about 11 and 13 it was our job to make Sunday dinner. Generally it was grilled cheese sandwiches. Not the ones done on a grill. We put 6 slices of bread on a cookie sheet, added a slice of cheese on each piece of bread and turned the oven on broil for a few minutes. Simple and yummy. I consider it a comfort food now. One week sis had to do it and the next week I did. Good thing it was simple. Yet, almost every week sis would get distracted and the cheese would bubble up, turn black and then burst into flames. And every week we ended up having to pull the blackened bits off of the sandwich because you couldn't throw it away. That would be wasting food. I don't know why sis couldn't keep her attention on the oven, but more often than not, the sandwiches gave us a few moments excitement until we put the fire out.
Fresh bread baking...cut while hot, slathered with butter and home made jam.
Gingerbread cake drenched with a tart vinegar sauce. It tasted better than it sounds.
Tiny potatoes dug from the garden, wiped off and eaten as soon as they came out of the cool, damp earth.
Peas, picked from a friends garden in the cool of the evening. Eaten right out of the shell.
Wild strawberries, still warm from the sun. More flavour there than any cultivated strawberry would ever have.
Wild blackberries eaten while picking some to put in the freezer so that during the winter months they can be hauled out, eaten and remind us of the warmer days ahead.
Wild Blueberries.
A glass of cold buttermilk.
Thanksgiving dinner...even with squash, though I never cared for squash...I still eat it sometimes and am transported back through time, sitting at the "kids table" in my grandmothers dining room.
Candy canes at Christmas time.
So many favourite foods that I can't even think of them all. So, next time someone asks me what my favourite food is, I guess I can truthfully say "I don't have one"...because I don't. I have lots of favourite foods. I might not eat them often, but when I do, I get to go on a trip down memory lane.
I mentioned in an earlier blog about the Dutch candy that a friend sent me. Can't leave that out of the favourite food category. Just one taste of it takes me back to elementary school. I can almost see my friends, at elementary age. I can smell the chalk dust in the air and hear the teacher calling all the grades, (from 1 to 6) to order.
Sausages. Breakfast sausages to be specific. They were a special treat when growing up. We didn't generally have them for breakfast. They were for supper most times. Thinking of them makes my mouth water. I don't eat sausages often anymore. Too much cholesterol, too greasy..my stomach protests now.
Fried dough...another food I seldom have anymore...too fattening...but soooo good. My mom deep fried her dough. Golden chunks of dough floating around in the deep fat fryer. Hot out of the fat and onto plates. Dipped in table syrup, molasses, smothered in butter or, if we were lucky we had some real maple syrup to drench the dough in. Fried dough was a standard in our home on Saturday night. While many other families in this area considered (and still consider) Saturday night as "Bean night", we had fried dough.
Sundays was a simple fare and when my sister and I were about 11 and 13 it was our job to make Sunday dinner. Generally it was grilled cheese sandwiches. Not the ones done on a grill. We put 6 slices of bread on a cookie sheet, added a slice of cheese on each piece of bread and turned the oven on broil for a few minutes. Simple and yummy. I consider it a comfort food now. One week sis had to do it and the next week I did. Good thing it was simple. Yet, almost every week sis would get distracted and the cheese would bubble up, turn black and then burst into flames. And every week we ended up having to pull the blackened bits off of the sandwich because you couldn't throw it away. That would be wasting food. I don't know why sis couldn't keep her attention on the oven, but more often than not, the sandwiches gave us a few moments excitement until we put the fire out.
Fresh bread baking...cut while hot, slathered with butter and home made jam.
Gingerbread cake drenched with a tart vinegar sauce. It tasted better than it sounds.
Tiny potatoes dug from the garden, wiped off and eaten as soon as they came out of the cool, damp earth.
Peas, picked from a friends garden in the cool of the evening. Eaten right out of the shell.
Wild strawberries, still warm from the sun. More flavour there than any cultivated strawberry would ever have.
Wild blackberries eaten while picking some to put in the freezer so that during the winter months they can be hauled out, eaten and remind us of the warmer days ahead.
Wild Blueberries.
A glass of cold buttermilk.
Thanksgiving dinner...even with squash, though I never cared for squash...I still eat it sometimes and am transported back through time, sitting at the "kids table" in my grandmothers dining room.
Candy canes at Christmas time.
So many favourite foods that I can't even think of them all. So, next time someone asks me what my favourite food is, I guess I can truthfully say "I don't have one"...because I don't. I have lots of favourite foods. I might not eat them often, but when I do, I get to go on a trip down memory lane.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Cockatiels
My cockatiels are upset. I have two males. Joey and Chevy. Joey is a white face. No orange cheek patches. No yellow. Just grey and white. When I take pictures of him, it looks like I changed the picture to black and white. Chevy is normal coloured.
I have had 'tiels for quite some time now. I started out with Riley about 13 or 14 years ago. A regular coloured female. Then came Marco, I believe...and babies. We had quite a few babies over the years. No more of that, though. I like just having the two...and when they get yelling, I sometimes wonder if I like the two I have. lol
I started out with a budgie named Blue Christmas. Yes, she was blue. I got her for Christmas. I do like Elvis. When she died after several years, I got a new one and named her "Blue Too". When I lost her, I switched to 'tiels.
I ended up with a green budgie one day when a girl I knew got tired of hers. She gave me the cage, food and bird. She hadn't realized how messy birds can be and how much time they can take up. I only had Chevy at that time, and the new bird, Pickle, was good company for Chevy. I believe that someone must have grabbed Pickle while trying to train her because she was terrified of hands. I have trained some pretty wild birds, but Pickle never got over her fear so I finally told people to just leave her alone. She was happy in her cage. I guess she felt safe in there since no one bothered her. Chevy would stand on the cage all day and the two would talk quietly for hours. Little chirps and peeps. They would seldom get loud and although I was afraid Pickle might bite Chevys toes, she never did.
A couple of years ago, on Christmas morning, all was quiet when I got up. Since Pickle had been acting "off" I knew immediately that she had died in the night. Poor Chevy. He stood on her cage, all hunched over. He was talking to Pickle and trying to get an answer from her. After I took her little body away, he fell silent. I am sure he knew she was gone for good. Chevy isn't really a "people" bird although I raised him from an egg. He is a loner. It isn't that he is scared of people...he just wants nothing to do with people. Never has.
So once Pickle was gone, Chevy went into a depression. That's all I could call it. He didn't fly. He lost weight. He seldom chirped. Even the way he stood seemed to convey sadness.
One day, while looking on facebook I saw that a girl I knew was looking for a new home for her cockatiel. She had a tiny house, cats and dogs. No room for a bird. She was afraid the cats would end up getting the bird so she knew she would have to send this bird to a new home. I spoke to my husband about it and he said "Lets go!" I said that I had already called and no one was home. I was one step ahead of him. I didn't really want another bird though. After a few days I called again just to see what was wrong with the bird that she didn't want it anymore. There were no behaviour problems, nor were there any health problems...just cat problems. I told her I would wait a week, and if no one else called, I would come look at the bird. She told me that when she first decided to find the bird a new home, she thought of me. I lasted 3 days and then went to bring Joey home.
Joeys full name (I did not name him...he came with the name) is Joey Jo Jo Junior Shabadoo. I guess it is from the Simpsons. I don't watch that show. Well, Chevy fell in love with Joey. No transition period at all..they just started hanging out. Oh, they argue once in awhile about who gets to the food dish first, but other than that, they get along wonderfully. Chevy came out of his depression and Joey gets to fly free, something he could not do in his previous home.
I mentioned earlier that they are upset. I am not pleased with them, either. A few days ago I came home and one of them had gotten onto my book shelf and chewed one of my books in my "The Cat Who..." series. Not just a few nibbles, but large chunks taken out. I will need to get a new one, if I can find it, since this one is now falling apart. The bird chewed right down the spine. I don't have a lot of books but I love that series and managed to get the whole set. So now they are stuck in their cage most of the day. I do let them out in the evenings to exercise and play but only if I am home all evening. No more being left alone for awhile. Their cage is large and they have toys in there so it isn't like they have nothing to do. They also chewed up a dvd box. One of the McGyver seasons.
Will the birds get free reign of the house again? I don't know. We will see how they act in small time periods. Until then, they can hang out in their cage...grounded for a bit.
I have had 'tiels for quite some time now. I started out with Riley about 13 or 14 years ago. A regular coloured female. Then came Marco, I believe...and babies. We had quite a few babies over the years. No more of that, though. I like just having the two...and when they get yelling, I sometimes wonder if I like the two I have. lol
I started out with a budgie named Blue Christmas. Yes, she was blue. I got her for Christmas. I do like Elvis. When she died after several years, I got a new one and named her "Blue Too". When I lost her, I switched to 'tiels.
I ended up with a green budgie one day when a girl I knew got tired of hers. She gave me the cage, food and bird. She hadn't realized how messy birds can be and how much time they can take up. I only had Chevy at that time, and the new bird, Pickle, was good company for Chevy. I believe that someone must have grabbed Pickle while trying to train her because she was terrified of hands. I have trained some pretty wild birds, but Pickle never got over her fear so I finally told people to just leave her alone. She was happy in her cage. I guess she felt safe in there since no one bothered her. Chevy would stand on the cage all day and the two would talk quietly for hours. Little chirps and peeps. They would seldom get loud and although I was afraid Pickle might bite Chevys toes, she never did.
A couple of years ago, on Christmas morning, all was quiet when I got up. Since Pickle had been acting "off" I knew immediately that she had died in the night. Poor Chevy. He stood on her cage, all hunched over. He was talking to Pickle and trying to get an answer from her. After I took her little body away, he fell silent. I am sure he knew she was gone for good. Chevy isn't really a "people" bird although I raised him from an egg. He is a loner. It isn't that he is scared of people...he just wants nothing to do with people. Never has.
So once Pickle was gone, Chevy went into a depression. That's all I could call it. He didn't fly. He lost weight. He seldom chirped. Even the way he stood seemed to convey sadness.
One day, while looking on facebook I saw that a girl I knew was looking for a new home for her cockatiel. She had a tiny house, cats and dogs. No room for a bird. She was afraid the cats would end up getting the bird so she knew she would have to send this bird to a new home. I spoke to my husband about it and he said "Lets go!" I said that I had already called and no one was home. I was one step ahead of him. I didn't really want another bird though. After a few days I called again just to see what was wrong with the bird that she didn't want it anymore. There were no behaviour problems, nor were there any health problems...just cat problems. I told her I would wait a week, and if no one else called, I would come look at the bird. She told me that when she first decided to find the bird a new home, she thought of me. I lasted 3 days and then went to bring Joey home.
Joeys full name (I did not name him...he came with the name) is Joey Jo Jo Junior Shabadoo. I guess it is from the Simpsons. I don't watch that show. Well, Chevy fell in love with Joey. No transition period at all..they just started hanging out. Oh, they argue once in awhile about who gets to the food dish first, but other than that, they get along wonderfully. Chevy came out of his depression and Joey gets to fly free, something he could not do in his previous home.
I mentioned earlier that they are upset. I am not pleased with them, either. A few days ago I came home and one of them had gotten onto my book shelf and chewed one of my books in my "The Cat Who..." series. Not just a few nibbles, but large chunks taken out. I will need to get a new one, if I can find it, since this one is now falling apart. The bird chewed right down the spine. I don't have a lot of books but I love that series and managed to get the whole set. So now they are stuck in their cage most of the day. I do let them out in the evenings to exercise and play but only if I am home all evening. No more being left alone for awhile. Their cage is large and they have toys in there so it isn't like they have nothing to do. They also chewed up a dvd box. One of the McGyver seasons.
Will the birds get free reign of the house again? I don't know. We will see how they act in small time periods. Until then, they can hang out in their cage...grounded for a bit.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Dutch Candy
A few days ago I mentioned in an online group that I wished I had some Dutch candy. Last time I had it was in elementary school. I remembered it to be black diamonds, tasted like licorice and VERY salty. I loved it. So, one of the ladies offered to send me some. She wouldn't take any money for it. It was just something she wanted to do.
I received the candy the other day. Along with the little diamonds, there were larger diamonds, a "mint" type candy (if you can call salty candy "mint"), round pieces and rectangle pieces. Oh, the first taste of that was great! Salty like I remembered and a touch of licorice. There was also a touch of eucalyptis. Not so strong that it tasted like Buckleys Mixture Cough Medicine, thank goodness.
Well, my youngest daughter came home to do her laundry and she grabbed a piece of candy before I could warn her. She hauled that out of her mouth faster than it went in. She tossed it to the dog, Melmo. She was NOT thrilled with the taste at all. lol. Mo didn't seem terribly happy with the taste, either. But he figured the other dog, KC, might want it, so he ate it. Mo will eat just about anything. KC doesn't. He is not food oriented at all.
Sister showed up today with one of her kids. She had a piece of candy...last time she had it was in elementary, also. She loved it. Nephew...not so much. lol. She tried to make him keep it in his mouth. I told him that he could put it in the garbage.
Gave some to my parents and they thought it was good. But at least I don't have to worry about my family cleaning it out. My husband isn't going to try it. I sure would like to see his face if he did. lol. Yeah, I am mean that way.
I received the candy the other day. Along with the little diamonds, there were larger diamonds, a "mint" type candy (if you can call salty candy "mint"), round pieces and rectangle pieces. Oh, the first taste of that was great! Salty like I remembered and a touch of licorice. There was also a touch of eucalyptis. Not so strong that it tasted like Buckleys Mixture Cough Medicine, thank goodness.
Well, my youngest daughter came home to do her laundry and she grabbed a piece of candy before I could warn her. She hauled that out of her mouth faster than it went in. She tossed it to the dog, Melmo. She was NOT thrilled with the taste at all. lol. Mo didn't seem terribly happy with the taste, either. But he figured the other dog, KC, might want it, so he ate it. Mo will eat just about anything. KC doesn't. He is not food oriented at all.
Sister showed up today with one of her kids. She had a piece of candy...last time she had it was in elementary, also. She loved it. Nephew...not so much. lol. She tried to make him keep it in his mouth. I told him that he could put it in the garbage.
Gave some to my parents and they thought it was good. But at least I don't have to worry about my family cleaning it out. My husband isn't going to try it. I sure would like to see his face if he did. lol. Yeah, I am mean that way.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Every morning when I wake up, one of my first thoughts is about my kids. Since they got out of school my first thoughts of them were what their day held. If they had work that day or what their plans were.
When my oldest came home in February after her husband decided the grass was greener on the other side of the wedding band, my thoughts were filled with concerns for her mental well being. Since she is bi-polar, you can never know what she is thinking or which way her thoughts will swing. She surprised me and did very well during such a rough time. Now she is in university and doing well except for a lack of sleep. She has tried, but can't sleep at night right now. She has gone through that often enough that she knows she has to wait it out but if it gets too bad she needs to go to the medical clinic.
My thoughts are, at the same time, turned to my youngest. She had moved out after graduation and lived with her sister (and soon to be ex husband) for a year, then came home last November and moved out again about a week ago. I still wake up wondering if she got up this morning because I didn't hear her downstairs...then remember that she is no longer living here. Since I love having my girls home, it is kind of like a punch in the stomach when I remember that it is just my husband and I once again.
Once the morning gets going, I try to catch my oldest on the computer. If I don't I send her a text. Then, after figuring out if my youngest is working or not (she works 6 days on, 2 off, but often works at least one of those two "off" days.) I send her a text. Just something to tell them that I am thinking of them and I love them. They may not live here anymore, but I can still let them know, just by texting, that they are special to me.
It isn't easy, sometimes, to know when to step away from your kids lives. As a mom, I want to be involved but not be a pest. I know my kids enjoy me being around. They have often asked me to hang out with them, even when their friends are around. And their friends invite me to their group, also. I don't always go when invited. Just enough to let everyone know that I am interested in what they are doing with their lives but not enough to seem like I am one of those moms who can't let go.
While the oldest was still with her husband she would call me and talk about her day. Sometimes she would vent about her husband. At those times I would tell her that I was willing to listen, but would not and could not give her any advice. I did not want her coming to me in 5 years and saying "Mom, you told me to leave him...I still love him but he is over me! You told me the wrong thing!" and on the other hand, I didn't want her coming and saying "Mom, you told me to stay with him...I have wasted so many years with a guy I don't even like anymore...you told me the wrong thing to do!" So, like I said, I listened to her but didn't tell her what to do.
The youngest is different...she is 21. She doesn't date. She doesn't drink. She doesn't smoke. She doesn't have shady friends. She has NEVER gone through a rebellion. So, we talk and hang out but she doesn't need advice from me. She seems to have it all figured out. I have friends that she is friends with...people she can hang out with without me being around. She has friends that I am friends with. Young people who enjoy talking to me and knowing they can trust me to not say anything to anyone else.
All in all, I have two good kids. Perfect? No. But I wouldn't trade them or their personalities for the world. (Ok, ask me later when the older one is going through a rough time...I might change that comment....no, not even then...not really.)
When my oldest came home in February after her husband decided the grass was greener on the other side of the wedding band, my thoughts were filled with concerns for her mental well being. Since she is bi-polar, you can never know what she is thinking or which way her thoughts will swing. She surprised me and did very well during such a rough time. Now she is in university and doing well except for a lack of sleep. She has tried, but can't sleep at night right now. She has gone through that often enough that she knows she has to wait it out but if it gets too bad she needs to go to the medical clinic.
My thoughts are, at the same time, turned to my youngest. She had moved out after graduation and lived with her sister (and soon to be ex husband) for a year, then came home last November and moved out again about a week ago. I still wake up wondering if she got up this morning because I didn't hear her downstairs...then remember that she is no longer living here. Since I love having my girls home, it is kind of like a punch in the stomach when I remember that it is just my husband and I once again.
Once the morning gets going, I try to catch my oldest on the computer. If I don't I send her a text. Then, after figuring out if my youngest is working or not (she works 6 days on, 2 off, but often works at least one of those two "off" days.) I send her a text. Just something to tell them that I am thinking of them and I love them. They may not live here anymore, but I can still let them know, just by texting, that they are special to me.
It isn't easy, sometimes, to know when to step away from your kids lives. As a mom, I want to be involved but not be a pest. I know my kids enjoy me being around. They have often asked me to hang out with them, even when their friends are around. And their friends invite me to their group, also. I don't always go when invited. Just enough to let everyone know that I am interested in what they are doing with their lives but not enough to seem like I am one of those moms who can't let go.
While the oldest was still with her husband she would call me and talk about her day. Sometimes she would vent about her husband. At those times I would tell her that I was willing to listen, but would not and could not give her any advice. I did not want her coming to me in 5 years and saying "Mom, you told me to leave him...I still love him but he is over me! You told me the wrong thing!" and on the other hand, I didn't want her coming and saying "Mom, you told me to stay with him...I have wasted so many years with a guy I don't even like anymore...you told me the wrong thing to do!" So, like I said, I listened to her but didn't tell her what to do.
The youngest is different...she is 21. She doesn't date. She doesn't drink. She doesn't smoke. She doesn't have shady friends. She has NEVER gone through a rebellion. So, we talk and hang out but she doesn't need advice from me. She seems to have it all figured out. I have friends that she is friends with...people she can hang out with without me being around. She has friends that I am friends with. Young people who enjoy talking to me and knowing they can trust me to not say anything to anyone else.
All in all, I have two good kids. Perfect? No. But I wouldn't trade them or their personalities for the world. (Ok, ask me later when the older one is going through a rough time...I might change that comment....no, not even then...not really.)
Monday, October 5, 2009
I managed to get myself out mowing today. No, not my own lawn. I have not mowed that for 2 years now. I don't actually have a lawn. Just a jumble of rose bushes, a bit of grass that the chickens keep chewed down, apple trees, blackberry bushes and raspberry canes. Somewhere under the jumble of trees and bushes is a small pond that I put in a few years ago. I don't have time to deal with my own lawn because I am always working on someone elses.
Close to 15 years ago my husband bought a lawncare business from an older gentleman. A few customers came along with that business. Eight years ago my husband had problems with his spine (3 operations in less than 3 years) and since we had just bought a commercial grade mower, I had to take over the business...or we would lose it. I started adding customers almost immediately. When I had 19 (Including 2 good sized cemetaries and 2 small ones) my husband told me I wouldn't be able to keep up if I added any more. I continued adding and now have somewhere around 40.
I mow from May until October although last year I mowed in November for someone who wasn't a regular customer but insisted that his lawn needed mowing although I tried to talk him out of it since I didn't want it to winter kill. Three days after I mowed his lawn we had a snow storm. The lawn survived but didn't look as good as it has other years.
I only spent 4 hours mowing and trimming today. During the busy times I often spend 10 to 12 hours working each day. Six days a week. Since it is only for a short time, I don't mind the long days.
I worked in one of the larger Cemetaries today. You might think that hours spent alone, mowing and trimming would be boring. It isn't. I have a radio in my hearing protection, so I can listen to the radio or my mp3 player. Also, this cemetary is out of the way and I get to see a bit of "wildlife". Today I saw a Pheasant. He kept hiding behind a bush before he finally got too scared and took off running for safer, quieter ground. At one time, a flock of seagulls flew over. You generally see one or two at a time, but seldom see 50 or more flying over in a flock. They must have seen something that interested them. Some days I have watched momma Pheasants with their babies. Last time I mowed there I saw 9 little pheasants and their mom. They were not even really scared and didn't really want to listen to momma when she called them. At other times I have seen eagles flying low overhead. What beautiful birds. After seeing one up close and personal (I transported one to the mainland once for Natural Resources after it had been shot in the wing...but thats another story) I can truly understand the size of those birds. Until then, I knew they were big, but didn't have first hand knowledge.
On the way home, I stopped into another customers house. She didn't need her lawn mowed but since she is elderly, I just wanted to stop in and see how she is doing. I worry about her as she lives alone. I let her know that I was just checking up on her and would mow the lawn later on if it needs it. I have a few elderly customers that I enjoy stopping in and chatting with every now and then.
I am all over the place with this blog...maybe I will eventually be able to focus on one specific thing and write about it. Until that time, I hope whoever might read this will bear with me.
Close to 15 years ago my husband bought a lawncare business from an older gentleman. A few customers came along with that business. Eight years ago my husband had problems with his spine (3 operations in less than 3 years) and since we had just bought a commercial grade mower, I had to take over the business...or we would lose it. I started adding customers almost immediately. When I had 19 (Including 2 good sized cemetaries and 2 small ones) my husband told me I wouldn't be able to keep up if I added any more. I continued adding and now have somewhere around 40.
I mow from May until October although last year I mowed in November for someone who wasn't a regular customer but insisted that his lawn needed mowing although I tried to talk him out of it since I didn't want it to winter kill. Three days after I mowed his lawn we had a snow storm. The lawn survived but didn't look as good as it has other years.
I only spent 4 hours mowing and trimming today. During the busy times I often spend 10 to 12 hours working each day. Six days a week. Since it is only for a short time, I don't mind the long days.
I worked in one of the larger Cemetaries today. You might think that hours spent alone, mowing and trimming would be boring. It isn't. I have a radio in my hearing protection, so I can listen to the radio or my mp3 player. Also, this cemetary is out of the way and I get to see a bit of "wildlife". Today I saw a Pheasant. He kept hiding behind a bush before he finally got too scared and took off running for safer, quieter ground. At one time, a flock of seagulls flew over. You generally see one or two at a time, but seldom see 50 or more flying over in a flock. They must have seen something that interested them. Some days I have watched momma Pheasants with their babies. Last time I mowed there I saw 9 little pheasants and their mom. They were not even really scared and didn't really want to listen to momma when she called them. At other times I have seen eagles flying low overhead. What beautiful birds. After seeing one up close and personal (I transported one to the mainland once for Natural Resources after it had been shot in the wing...but thats another story) I can truly understand the size of those birds. Until then, I knew they were big, but didn't have first hand knowledge.
On the way home, I stopped into another customers house. She didn't need her lawn mowed but since she is elderly, I just wanted to stop in and see how she is doing. I worry about her as she lives alone. I let her know that I was just checking up on her and would mow the lawn later on if it needs it. I have a few elderly customers that I enjoy stopping in and chatting with every now and then.
I am all over the place with this blog...maybe I will eventually be able to focus on one specific thing and write about it. Until that time, I hope whoever might read this will bear with me.
My first attempt at blogging
What am I doing here? I am not sure, right now. I should be on my way out the door but...well, this is something I have thought about starting but until right this minute...or rather, in the last few minutes, I never got "round to it". Here I am.
I have a million thoughts...well, maybe 50...or less...running around inside of my head. On the top of the heap is the kids and how much I miss them. They aren't really kids anymore since they are 21 and 23 but they are MY kids and I will probably always think of them as kids. One is in university, the other works on a Salmon site. Which do I worry about the most? The one on the water or the other in university? I guess it depends on the day. But in the end, I have to let go of the worry or I will drive myself crazy. Besides, the Bible says something like "Can you add one more hour to your life by worrying?" It is true. Worrying is foolishly wasted time.
I have often considered my life to be boring. But in reality, it isn't boring. When I talk to people from "away" they are often amazed at the life I have. Living on a small Island of about 2300 people that is accessable only by plane or boat. It is, in ways, a very sheltered life.
In the future I hope to tell about my Island life. Sorry, it isn't a tropical Island. I'm in Canada. I will also talk about my kids, my animals, my friends, my husband and a host of other things. This is hopefully just a start. I am not even sure who might read this. Or maybe it is just for me.
I have a million thoughts...well, maybe 50...or less...running around inside of my head. On the top of the heap is the kids and how much I miss them. They aren't really kids anymore since they are 21 and 23 but they are MY kids and I will probably always think of them as kids. One is in university, the other works on a Salmon site. Which do I worry about the most? The one on the water or the other in university? I guess it depends on the day. But in the end, I have to let go of the worry or I will drive myself crazy. Besides, the Bible says something like "Can you add one more hour to your life by worrying?" It is true. Worrying is foolishly wasted time.
I have often considered my life to be boring. But in reality, it isn't boring. When I talk to people from "away" they are often amazed at the life I have. Living on a small Island of about 2300 people that is accessable only by plane or boat. It is, in ways, a very sheltered life.
In the future I hope to tell about my Island life. Sorry, it isn't a tropical Island. I'm in Canada. I will also talk about my kids, my animals, my friends, my husband and a host of other things. This is hopefully just a start. I am not even sure who might read this. Or maybe it is just for me.
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