Random Thoughts-68
November 2, 2009
Until now, I never really had a problem with October. I thought it was always kind of a nice month. It’s colourful at the beginning and usually the weather is very comfortable for a game of football or a late game of golf, then, of course, October finishes with Halloween.
Good old “All Hallow’s Eve”, when you can dress up in a costume and go door to door and people put candy into your pillow case, or bag or plastic pumpkin for no other reason except that you yelled “TRICK OR TREAT”. I know! What could be better?
Then of course, every year in October, they crown a new World Series Champion. Well, technically, they drag it into November, now, so the greedy owners and TV execs and advertisers can milk more money out of the general public to pay the grossly overpaid players, but still, it was and will always remain “The October Classic.”
October usually brought the end of harvest (I said, usually, sorry farmers!) and October brings our Canadian version of Thanksgiving. Fresh pumpkin pies, new sweet Macintosh apples, sweet potatoes and so many more great seasonal dishes are at their tastiest during October.
Having said all of that, I was never so happy to see an October go by in my life as I was the gloomy 2009 version. According to the Weather Network, Broadview is supposed to average 167 hours of sunlight in the month of October. What did we get? Ten or twelve or something? Whatever it was it was the longest gloomiest October that I can remember. It was so rainy and gloomy that our solar lights wouldn’t even come on by the 31st. Seriously, I’m not kidding!
Although, I’ve never been to her place, I don’t think that Mother Nature has our human calendar on her wall to go by, but it seemed to me that as soon as November’s page turned up the sun came out. Coincidence? I think not.
I’ve never been a big fan of November, though. All you’ve got is Remembrance Day and the Blackstock Hockey Tournament. Okay, a couple of football games when the Americans decide it’s time to be thankful, but other than that, not too much to look forward to.
Perhaps this year will be different. Maybe November’s getting off on the right foot. We’ve had two, yes, count ‘em up, two sunny days in a row now. (I’m writing this on Monday night so there was yesterday and today). And the weather guys promise us that we’ll be seeing the thermometer rise to12C by the time this paper hits your mailbox. I certainly hope so.
There’s way too much crop still in the field and my vitamin D levels are already dangerously low and we still might have six months of winter to go! So c’mon now November, we’re counting on you to show us that you can be a worthy month, too. Do it for me. Do it for all of us.
“Weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society—things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed.”-E.B. White (1899-1985)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Random Thoughts-67
October 18, 2009
You know, three years have already passed since Kipling hosted “Saskatchewan’s Biggest Housewarming Party” celebrating Kyle MacDonald’s final trade from one red paperclip to a house. On that wild Labour Day Weekend in 2006 our son Nolan earned his role in Corbin Bernsen’s “Donna on Demand” movie as part of the trades that Kyle used to get his house.
If for some reason one of you reading this isn’t aware of the whole thing you can still log on to One Red Paper Clip.com and catch up, or you can buy Kyle’s book.
Coincidently, and totally lost in all of the brouhaha, was the fact that it was our 25th wedding anniversary on that weekend, too. Turns out, the timing couldn’t have been better. With a lot of our friends and family gathered around for the weekend, it was nice to be able to share the magic moments with so many people. It took our family a long time to come down from that cloud!
The filming had wrapped up and, to my knowledge, all of the final editing was completed before the end of 2007. So why would it take so long to finally get the finished product out to the public? My short and accurate answer is…I don’t know. And I’m not a Hollywood producer, either, but I am sure that they have their reasons.
One of the reasons may be that the content of “Donna on Demand” is pretty racy. Lots of swearing, some nudity and some violence with a killer twist at the end. Corbin himself has said that after he had spent some time in “wholesome” Kipling, “Donna” wasn’t the kind of movie that he would have used as his first choice for the winning role but the trade had been completed before he had even heard of Kipling.
The bottom line is that the movie is out now and available on DVD. And, yes, of course, there’s a twist. Or two. In order to get the movie you have to order it on the donnaondemand.com website. But wait! There’s more! By entering Nolan’s coupon code (NH1234) you will receive $2.00 off of the purchase price.
That’s it you ask?
Of course not!! There’s still more! For every DVD sold, with Nolan’s coupon code entered, he receives $3.00 from the sale of the movie!
Big deal you say?
Maybe so, but listen. Nolan is going to donate $1.00 from his take of every DVD sold and donate it to The Camp Easter Seal Foundation!
Howz that sound? What a deal! What are you waiting for? Hurry now and get your copy of Nolan’s first Hollywood movie while donating to a very worthy cause; all in the same transaction! Can’t get any better than that!
Once again, to order your movie-go to donnaondemand.com, enter your coupon code (NH1234) and…voila! It’ll come right to your mailbox. It’s that simple.
“So, you followed up your TV career with a couple of crappy movies. So what!? You made some money!”-Ned Palmer (Nolan’s character) to Ben Corbin (Corbin’s character).-Donna On Demand-2009.
October 18, 2009
You know, three years have already passed since Kipling hosted “Saskatchewan’s Biggest Housewarming Party” celebrating Kyle MacDonald’s final trade from one red paperclip to a house. On that wild Labour Day Weekend in 2006 our son Nolan earned his role in Corbin Bernsen’s “Donna on Demand” movie as part of the trades that Kyle used to get his house.
If for some reason one of you reading this isn’t aware of the whole thing you can still log on to One Red Paper Clip.com and catch up, or you can buy Kyle’s book.
Coincidently, and totally lost in all of the brouhaha, was the fact that it was our 25th wedding anniversary on that weekend, too. Turns out, the timing couldn’t have been better. With a lot of our friends and family gathered around for the weekend, it was nice to be able to share the magic moments with so many people. It took our family a long time to come down from that cloud!
The filming had wrapped up and, to my knowledge, all of the final editing was completed before the end of 2007. So why would it take so long to finally get the finished product out to the public? My short and accurate answer is…I don’t know. And I’m not a Hollywood producer, either, but I am sure that they have their reasons.
One of the reasons may be that the content of “Donna on Demand” is pretty racy. Lots of swearing, some nudity and some violence with a killer twist at the end. Corbin himself has said that after he had spent some time in “wholesome” Kipling, “Donna” wasn’t the kind of movie that he would have used as his first choice for the winning role but the trade had been completed before he had even heard of Kipling.
The bottom line is that the movie is out now and available on DVD. And, yes, of course, there’s a twist. Or two. In order to get the movie you have to order it on the donnaondemand.com website. But wait! There’s more! By entering Nolan’s coupon code (NH1234) you will receive $2.00 off of the purchase price.
That’s it you ask?
Of course not!! There’s still more! For every DVD sold, with Nolan’s coupon code entered, he receives $3.00 from the sale of the movie!
Big deal you say?
Maybe so, but listen. Nolan is going to donate $1.00 from his take of every DVD sold and donate it to The Camp Easter Seal Foundation!
Howz that sound? What a deal! What are you waiting for? Hurry now and get your copy of Nolan’s first Hollywood movie while donating to a very worthy cause; all in the same transaction! Can’t get any better than that!
Once again, to order your movie-go to donnaondemand.com, enter your coupon code (NH1234) and…voila! It’ll come right to your mailbox. It’s that simple.
“So, you followed up your TV career with a couple of crappy movies. So what!? You made some money!”-Ned Palmer (Nolan’s character) to Ben Corbin (Corbin’s character).-Donna On Demand-2009.
Random Thoughts-66
October 5, 2009
We had managed to put off the inevitable for about as long as we could possibly stand it. You remember, don’t you? How procrastination is nasty business? Sure, putting something off always seems like a good idea at the time, but when you really think about it, and if you would have just rolled up your sleeves and got to it, it usually isn’t as big a deal as you thought it would be in the first place.
Whether you’re putting off telling your spouse about the dint in their car, or hanging the Christmas lights, or asking for directions, or finally getting around to 2004’s spring cleaning, after all is said and done, you will look back and say, “that wasn’t so bad now was it, why didn’t I do that earlier?” Every freaking time!
So it was at our house this past weekend. Yes, we had finally decided not to put off the 2004 spring edition of “THE BASEMENT CLEANING” any longer. I guess five-and-a-half years are enough!
Now, our basement isn’t the carpeted rumpus room with a spare bedroom, a half bath and some storage space like many people have. Don’t get me wrong, our basement was probably state of the art when it was built, but that was ninety years ago. Ours is basically one big storage unit with room for the boiler, washer and dryer.
It doesn’t help when both my wife and I hate to depart with almost anything! Old shoes, old costumes, old clothes, old books and especially anything that the kids used to have because it all seems to have such great sentimental value to us.
I even found a pair of skates that I had bought from D & S Sporting Goods (owned by Morley Dickie and Bill Salloum in Kipling) somewhere around 1977! Seriously! I guess you just never know when you’re going to need a worn out pair of twenty-two year old skates or something. I think I misted up a bit throwing those old skates onto the garbage pile in the truck.
And so it went. “What should we do with this?” “Pitch it!” “But…” PITCH IT!” “Okay”.
I made so many trips up and down those stairs that I didn’t feel guilty at all about throwing out the old exercising equipment. Who uses a “Stairmaster” anymore anyway?
Then, there we were, too many hours later looking at the beautifully clean basement. “That wasn’t so bad now was it?” “Yes!! It was!” But at least it’s done. Now we can move some of the stuff from the bedrooms down there!
My friend Lonnie Cameron has a saying about procrastination, sorry, but I can’t use it here. Ask him about it the next time you see him. I’ll use this one instead.
“Procrastination isn’t the problem, it’s the solution. So procrastinate now, don’t put it off.”- Ellen DeGeneres.
October 5, 2009
We had managed to put off the inevitable for about as long as we could possibly stand it. You remember, don’t you? How procrastination is nasty business? Sure, putting something off always seems like a good idea at the time, but when you really think about it, and if you would have just rolled up your sleeves and got to it, it usually isn’t as big a deal as you thought it would be in the first place.
Whether you’re putting off telling your spouse about the dint in their car, or hanging the Christmas lights, or asking for directions, or finally getting around to 2004’s spring cleaning, after all is said and done, you will look back and say, “that wasn’t so bad now was it, why didn’t I do that earlier?” Every freaking time!
So it was at our house this past weekend. Yes, we had finally decided not to put off the 2004 spring edition of “THE BASEMENT CLEANING” any longer. I guess five-and-a-half years are enough!
Now, our basement isn’t the carpeted rumpus room with a spare bedroom, a half bath and some storage space like many people have. Don’t get me wrong, our basement was probably state of the art when it was built, but that was ninety years ago. Ours is basically one big storage unit with room for the boiler, washer and dryer.
It doesn’t help when both my wife and I hate to depart with almost anything! Old shoes, old costumes, old clothes, old books and especially anything that the kids used to have because it all seems to have such great sentimental value to us.
I even found a pair of skates that I had bought from D & S Sporting Goods (owned by Morley Dickie and Bill Salloum in Kipling) somewhere around 1977! Seriously! I guess you just never know when you’re going to need a worn out pair of twenty-two year old skates or something. I think I misted up a bit throwing those old skates onto the garbage pile in the truck.
And so it went. “What should we do with this?” “Pitch it!” “But…” PITCH IT!” “Okay”.
I made so many trips up and down those stairs that I didn’t feel guilty at all about throwing out the old exercising equipment. Who uses a “Stairmaster” anymore anyway?
Then, there we were, too many hours later looking at the beautifully clean basement. “That wasn’t so bad now was it?” “Yes!! It was!” But at least it’s done. Now we can move some of the stuff from the bedrooms down there!
My friend Lonnie Cameron has a saying about procrastination, sorry, but I can’t use it here. Ask him about it the next time you see him. I’ll use this one instead.
“Procrastination isn’t the problem, it’s the solution. So procrastinate now, don’t put it off.”- Ellen DeGeneres.
Random Thoughts-65
September 21st, 2009
The recent and very welcome heat wave may have made us think that it was still summer but the calendar says that on September 22nd autumn began. As long as we continue to have daytime temperatures in the 20s I don’t care what they call it, just keep ‘em comin’!
Even as summer-like weather is blessing us, the usual seasonal chores have to be done. The potatoes are ready for the bin, the tomatoes are almost ready for the salsa jars and the chickens are getting fattened up for their inevitable trip to the freezer.
Just the other day a couple of us were recalling the old chicken butchering days. Notice I didn’t say “Good old”, because, to me they weren’t. Good that is.
While I was attending high school, Mom and Dad would buy baby chicks in the spring and have them raised on a local farm until the fall. Part of the deal was that when it came time to butcher them, Mom and Dad and their slaves/children would help with the nasty business. Mom and Dad had grown up on farms and thought that the experience would be character building or something. I had lived all of my life in a city or town and hadn’t really cared how that tasty fried chicken got its start.
Well, I soon found out and it ain’t pretty! Between the headless creatures flapping about the farmyard and the nauseating aroma of the feather scalding, I was close to passing out or throwing up well before the plucking and the gutting even got started!
Thankfully, I was able to “man-up” and managed to stay upright and keep my stomach contents in my stomach while looking as busy as possible doing nothing until all the butchering was done.
As I recall, I didn’t have much of an appetite when we were called to the supper table that day. Then, with the distinct smell of scalded feathers still stinging my nose, the main course of Chicken Paprikas was put on the table.
What!? You can’t be serious!? I know this was how it was always done, but CHICKEN!?…NOW!?… Thanks, but no thanks.
I know it was probably just part of the evolutionary process and all, but really, who would have been the first one to think that eating a dead bird would be a good idea? I mean, he must have been STARVING! How many tries would he have made before he just ate the meat? Or even tried cooking it!
Yes, you’re right, it’s maybe best not to think about that. I’ve recovered quite nicely from the old chicken pluckin’ days and I make a pretty mean Chicken Paprikas myself now. So, in the end, it turned out to be a character builder anyway, because all of life’s experiences, good, bad or otherwise, usually are.
“If we could sell our experiences for what they cost us, we’d all be millionaires.”-Abigail Van Buren (1918-)
September 21st, 2009
The recent and very welcome heat wave may have made us think that it was still summer but the calendar says that on September 22nd autumn began. As long as we continue to have daytime temperatures in the 20s I don’t care what they call it, just keep ‘em comin’!
Even as summer-like weather is blessing us, the usual seasonal chores have to be done. The potatoes are ready for the bin, the tomatoes are almost ready for the salsa jars and the chickens are getting fattened up for their inevitable trip to the freezer.
Just the other day a couple of us were recalling the old chicken butchering days. Notice I didn’t say “Good old”, because, to me they weren’t. Good that is.
While I was attending high school, Mom and Dad would buy baby chicks in the spring and have them raised on a local farm until the fall. Part of the deal was that when it came time to butcher them, Mom and Dad and their slaves/children would help with the nasty business. Mom and Dad had grown up on farms and thought that the experience would be character building or something. I had lived all of my life in a city or town and hadn’t really cared how that tasty fried chicken got its start.
Well, I soon found out and it ain’t pretty! Between the headless creatures flapping about the farmyard and the nauseating aroma of the feather scalding, I was close to passing out or throwing up well before the plucking and the gutting even got started!
Thankfully, I was able to “man-up” and managed to stay upright and keep my stomach contents in my stomach while looking as busy as possible doing nothing until all the butchering was done.
As I recall, I didn’t have much of an appetite when we were called to the supper table that day. Then, with the distinct smell of scalded feathers still stinging my nose, the main course of Chicken Paprikas was put on the table.
What!? You can’t be serious!? I know this was how it was always done, but CHICKEN!?…NOW!?… Thanks, but no thanks.
I know it was probably just part of the evolutionary process and all, but really, who would have been the first one to think that eating a dead bird would be a good idea? I mean, he must have been STARVING! How many tries would he have made before he just ate the meat? Or even tried cooking it!
Yes, you’re right, it’s maybe best not to think about that. I’ve recovered quite nicely from the old chicken pluckin’ days and I make a pretty mean Chicken Paprikas myself now. So, in the end, it turned out to be a character builder anyway, because all of life’s experiences, good, bad or otherwise, usually are.
“If we could sell our experiences for what they cost us, we’d all be millionaires.”-Abigail Van Buren (1918-)
Random Thoughts-64
August 1st, 2009
This past weekend we moved our daughter, Emily, to her new digs in Moose Jaw for the upcoming SIAST school year. I am very familiar with the Moose Jaw area as my family had lived at Marquis, just twenty miles northwest, for five years and I attended school in the city in grades seven and eight.
Especially at this time of year, I am reminded of the many experiences that I had while I worked for a few summers on my sister and brother-in-law’s Moose Jaw area farm fixing grain bins and driving truck during harvest.
I learned how to drive on old dirt roads in a ’48 Ford ½ ton while carrying all the tools of a wood grain bin repair man. Tin flashing, spare boards, tar, nails, hammer, .22 rifle, in case the rats got too close, you know.
It was always a very hectic, stressful and rewarding time of the year. So much depended on the weather, which was completely out of one’s control, and also added to my brother-in-law’s already too-high blood pressure. He was responsible for taking off his crop, his Dad’s, his uncle’s and worked with his brother on his crop, too. Two combines and one old grain truck took the entire crop off.
At the time, early to middle ‘70s, we had a field moisture tester which would tell you when the grain was dry enough to start up the combines. That was a bit of an advantage back then as not many farmers had testers, so then they would have to take a sample to the grain elevator to get tested and wait in line before the results would be given. It could take up quite a bit of time, depending on the location of the elevator and the number of farmers waiting in line, which could mean some crucial minutes or hours of harvesting time.
I am not sure how much my brother-in-law paid for the tester but he needn’t have bothered while his Uncle Mike was still around. Uncle Mike was in his eighties, a life-long bachelor and his only love was his farm. He lived to farm.
I can vividly recall seeing him squatting over a swath with a handful of kernels in his hand blowing away the chaff. He’d take one spring wheat kernel and bite down on it and predict the moisture content to within a half of a percentage of the tester’s reading! When it cracked hard enough he’d smile, wink and say, “Let’s go!”
We always unloaded the combines “on the go”, as they say, unloading the hopper into the truck as both vehicles slowly cruised down the field. I got pretty good at it, too, if I do say so myself. The only time I didn’t like doing that was when we were combining barley. That damn chaff and grain dust would give you such an itch! The only other thing that I remember making me itch that badly was a dip in the old dugout too far into July giving me “The Itch”!
I feel so fortunate to have had those experiences, the itching excluded. The cucumber sandwiches in the field, the teamwork, the late-night meals after a long day, the sense of accomplishment, even the exhaustion, when your head finally hit the pillow, felt good.
I’ve had my share of jobs over the years and they are not without their rewards but I don’t think anything can compare to the feelings I was lucky enough to experience during my harvesting days.
“Out of the strain of the Doing,
Into the peace of the Done.”- Julia Louise Woodruff- “Harvest Home”, Sunday at home, 1910.
August 1st, 2009
This past weekend we moved our daughter, Emily, to her new digs in Moose Jaw for the upcoming SIAST school year. I am very familiar with the Moose Jaw area as my family had lived at Marquis, just twenty miles northwest, for five years and I attended school in the city in grades seven and eight.
Especially at this time of year, I am reminded of the many experiences that I had while I worked for a few summers on my sister and brother-in-law’s Moose Jaw area farm fixing grain bins and driving truck during harvest.
I learned how to drive on old dirt roads in a ’48 Ford ½ ton while carrying all the tools of a wood grain bin repair man. Tin flashing, spare boards, tar, nails, hammer, .22 rifle, in case the rats got too close, you know.
It was always a very hectic, stressful and rewarding time of the year. So much depended on the weather, which was completely out of one’s control, and also added to my brother-in-law’s already too-high blood pressure. He was responsible for taking off his crop, his Dad’s, his uncle’s and worked with his brother on his crop, too. Two combines and one old grain truck took the entire crop off.
At the time, early to middle ‘70s, we had a field moisture tester which would tell you when the grain was dry enough to start up the combines. That was a bit of an advantage back then as not many farmers had testers, so then they would have to take a sample to the grain elevator to get tested and wait in line before the results would be given. It could take up quite a bit of time, depending on the location of the elevator and the number of farmers waiting in line, which could mean some crucial minutes or hours of harvesting time.
I am not sure how much my brother-in-law paid for the tester but he needn’t have bothered while his Uncle Mike was still around. Uncle Mike was in his eighties, a life-long bachelor and his only love was his farm. He lived to farm.
I can vividly recall seeing him squatting over a swath with a handful of kernels in his hand blowing away the chaff. He’d take one spring wheat kernel and bite down on it and predict the moisture content to within a half of a percentage of the tester’s reading! When it cracked hard enough he’d smile, wink and say, “Let’s go!”
We always unloaded the combines “on the go”, as they say, unloading the hopper into the truck as both vehicles slowly cruised down the field. I got pretty good at it, too, if I do say so myself. The only time I didn’t like doing that was when we were combining barley. That damn chaff and grain dust would give you such an itch! The only other thing that I remember making me itch that badly was a dip in the old dugout too far into July giving me “The Itch”!
I feel so fortunate to have had those experiences, the itching excluded. The cucumber sandwiches in the field, the teamwork, the late-night meals after a long day, the sense of accomplishment, even the exhaustion, when your head finally hit the pillow, felt good.
I’ve had my share of jobs over the years and they are not without their rewards but I don’t think anything can compare to the feelings I was lucky enough to experience during my harvesting days.
“Out of the strain of the Doing,
Into the peace of the Done.”- Julia Louise Woodruff- “Harvest Home”, Sunday at home, 1910.
Random Thoughts-63
August 24, 2009
Do you lead a stress free life? Are your decisions always right? Do your physical actions always follow your brain thought patterns? Yes? Really?! Then you mustn’t be a golfer!
As if our lives weren’t stressful enough, what with bills to pay, children to move, (again and again), on-going home improvements, job stress, car repairs, yard work, laundry, cooking, cleaning... the list is endless; this year, Deb and I decided to put in a lot more of our free time on the golf course.
Yes, in an effort to give us some relief from the struggles of everyday life, escaping to the golf course was supposed to be our stress reliever. I guess it is to a point. If you just want to admire the scenery on the course and the camaraderie of the club house deck, then that’s the place to be.
If, however, you want to play the game properly and put that stupid ball in the cup with the fewest swings of your club, you might want to look up what “stress relief” really means.
Usually, doing something over and over should improve the end result of a repeated action. Usually. I’ve repeated my golf swing, and many various versions of it, oh, I would say a few thousand times. Many, many thousands of times and I’m not sure if “improved” would be one of the adjectives that I would use when describing the end result of one of my many, many golf swings.
Oh sure, you know, every now and then, and this is true for every golfer, Tiger included, you hit that one sweet perfect ball that goes exactly where you aim and gets there in a hurry. For Tiger, it’s lots of times, for me, not so much. Just enough to think you’re getting better so you go back out to see if you can do it again!
Then again, you know what they say, “a bad day of golf is better than a good day at work.”
There are many very positive things about golf. Done right, it will improve your concentration. Done wrong, you get to use words that aren’t usually allowed in public. You get lots of fresh air, a little exercise and on those rare occasions when the sun and moon and stars are lined up just right, you can put a game together that makes you really think you can golf!
“Golf and sex are about the only things you can enjoy without being good at.”-Jimmy Demaret.
August 24, 2009
Do you lead a stress free life? Are your decisions always right? Do your physical actions always follow your brain thought patterns? Yes? Really?! Then you mustn’t be a golfer!
As if our lives weren’t stressful enough, what with bills to pay, children to move, (again and again), on-going home improvements, job stress, car repairs, yard work, laundry, cooking, cleaning... the list is endless; this year, Deb and I decided to put in a lot more of our free time on the golf course.
Yes, in an effort to give us some relief from the struggles of everyday life, escaping to the golf course was supposed to be our stress reliever. I guess it is to a point. If you just want to admire the scenery on the course and the camaraderie of the club house deck, then that’s the place to be.
If, however, you want to play the game properly and put that stupid ball in the cup with the fewest swings of your club, you might want to look up what “stress relief” really means.
Usually, doing something over and over should improve the end result of a repeated action. Usually. I’ve repeated my golf swing, and many various versions of it, oh, I would say a few thousand times. Many, many thousands of times and I’m not sure if “improved” would be one of the adjectives that I would use when describing the end result of one of my many, many golf swings.
Oh sure, you know, every now and then, and this is true for every golfer, Tiger included, you hit that one sweet perfect ball that goes exactly where you aim and gets there in a hurry. For Tiger, it’s lots of times, for me, not so much. Just enough to think you’re getting better so you go back out to see if you can do it again!
Then again, you know what they say, “a bad day of golf is better than a good day at work.”
There are many very positive things about golf. Done right, it will improve your concentration. Done wrong, you get to use words that aren’t usually allowed in public. You get lots of fresh air, a little exercise and on those rare occasions when the sun and moon and stars are lined up just right, you can put a game together that makes you really think you can golf!
“Golf and sex are about the only things you can enjoy without being good at.”-Jimmy Demaret.
Random Thoughts-62
August 17, 2009
You know how they say that, “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone”? Well the peace and serenity of our empty nest was disrupted, recently, when one of our flock came back home to roost for a while.
We happily took our youngest daughter Emily back into our household as she returned home for a month of respite between finishing up her job, in Regina, and going to post-secondary school in Moose Jaw in September.
I vividly remember the day when our baby left home and Deb and I were left standing alone in front of the house thinking, “now what?”
Well, that was two years ago, and, over that time, we had adjusted quite fine, thank you very much.
Gone were the fights over the TV remote. Gone from the bathroom were the curling irons, the hair straightening irons, the blow dryers, the make-up bags and the wet towels on the bathroom floor.
Gone were the nights when we lay awake waiting for the front door to bang shut, signifying her late-night return home.
Now, two weeks after Emily’s return, there it is...deja vu all over again!
I remember fondly having a shower without running out of hot water. Or going to the fridge for that last hidden cold beer and finding it there.
Nostalgically our TV yearns to show something other than the latest reality television show.
But, you know, it’s not all bad. Her bubbly personality still lights up the room when she’s around. Many of her life-long friends have started to come around again and add a little life to this old house. She even runs errands for us and does some chores.
Yes, the young high-school girl left and a mature, responsible young woman has returned in her place.
In another two weeks we will be standing on the front step watching her move on again to the next phase of her life. Will we be saddened once more? You bet. Will we enjoy having the house back to ourselves? Yes, we will, but probably not right away.
Despite the clutter and the tiny inconveniences we’ll definitely miss all of that activity she’s brought home with her. We’ll slowly adjust back to “normal” and then we will yearn for the days when there was a little more life around here.
“Human beings are the only creatures that allow their children to come back home.”- Bill Cosby (1937-)
August 17, 2009
You know how they say that, “you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone”? Well the peace and serenity of our empty nest was disrupted, recently, when one of our flock came back home to roost for a while.
We happily took our youngest daughter Emily back into our household as she returned home for a month of respite between finishing up her job, in Regina, and going to post-secondary school in Moose Jaw in September.
I vividly remember the day when our baby left home and Deb and I were left standing alone in front of the house thinking, “now what?”
Well, that was two years ago, and, over that time, we had adjusted quite fine, thank you very much.
Gone were the fights over the TV remote. Gone from the bathroom were the curling irons, the hair straightening irons, the blow dryers, the make-up bags and the wet towels on the bathroom floor.
Gone were the nights when we lay awake waiting for the front door to bang shut, signifying her late-night return home.
Now, two weeks after Emily’s return, there it is...deja vu all over again!
I remember fondly having a shower without running out of hot water. Or going to the fridge for that last hidden cold beer and finding it there.
Nostalgically our TV yearns to show something other than the latest reality television show.
But, you know, it’s not all bad. Her bubbly personality still lights up the room when she’s around. Many of her life-long friends have started to come around again and add a little life to this old house. She even runs errands for us and does some chores.
Yes, the young high-school girl left and a mature, responsible young woman has returned in her place.
In another two weeks we will be standing on the front step watching her move on again to the next phase of her life. Will we be saddened once more? You bet. Will we enjoy having the house back to ourselves? Yes, we will, but probably not right away.
Despite the clutter and the tiny inconveniences we’ll definitely miss all of that activity she’s brought home with her. We’ll slowly adjust back to “normal” and then we will yearn for the days when there was a little more life around here.
“Human beings are the only creatures that allow their children to come back home.”- Bill Cosby (1937-)
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