Christmas Time Is A-Changing

We became accustomed to young children waking us up at 4:00 a.m., then at 4:30 a.m. and then again at 5:00 and perhaps even 5:30. By 6:00 we'd drag our wobbly legs out of bed and gather around the Christmas Tree (often times before our first coffee of the day) squinting at all the bright lights that the children have flicked on at this ridiculous hour of the morning. We help the youngest, whomever that may be at the time, sort and hand out the gifts and the kids proceed to viciously unwrap the long awaited presents.With lots of oooohs, aaahs, thank-you-very-muches, and sometimes tears (usually due to lack of batteries in a particular toy) we make it through our annual Christmas morning ritual.

Things have changed over time and so this year was totally different. Mike was woken up by the canine duo at about 6:30 and took them for a walk. When he returned, he shoveled snow, fed the mutts, made himself a coffee and clicked around on the TV remote only to find himself a '70's movie with Jeff Bridges as an alien and waited patiently for everyone else to get it together. I crawled out of hibernation about 7:15, made myself a coffee and continued working on my crochet basket until, well, whatever it is I'm waiting for, oh yeah, for everybody else to get up. Our oldest worked a night shift and headed home to bed right after his shift this morning and informed us through texts that he won't be arriving at our house until at least noon because he's "dangerously" tired. (I get that!) The other two offspring nonchalantly start their day later in the morning.

When did this all change?

Whatever Christmas morning brings us now is okay. We have to face the facts--our kiddies are growing. We still (eventually) get together by the tree, open our gifts and I can still hear the oooohs, aaaahs and thank-you-very-muches (no more tears, thank goodness). You won't see huge piles of gifts under our tree anymore because many gifts have taken a turn towards the more creative side and are given to their recipients earlier or later than December 25th. (Besides, it was those nasty, battery-sucking toys that hogged all the room under the Christmas Tree.)

And sure, sometimes I miss being with family from other parts of the country but for the most part we enjoy our quiet, low-key little Christmases. We still enjoy a traditional cooked turkey or ham, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce....and don't forget homemade cookies and trail mix. We hang around the house, play games, talk and watch movies (and over eat!)


As I can only hope for grandchildren, like many women my age have already, ahem, I won't put any of that pressure on my own children. Christmases are just changing for us and honestly, if I will be looking for more excitement during the holidays, maybe it's time for giving back to the community .......volunteering at the soup kitchen? ....visiting people at the hospital?

Who knows what future holidays will bring!

Dieting, Not A Piece Of Cake

Something really strange happened to me earlier this year. I can't explain how it happened or why it happened but no amount of excuses will justify the fact that it happened to me. You see, I gained 25 pounds within a rather short period of time. And, no, I'm not pregnant. It doesn't matter how many times I sweet-talk my bathroom scale, it will not back me up.

I love food alot. I realize I don't have to eat every meal like it's my last supper. It's too bad that I have many weaknesses. Oh. My. Goodness.....even the wine I have consumed in the past year.....I could've opened my own little liquor store. I know for certain that wine is NOT good for the waistline either.

I'll admit, I'm getting older and my metabolism is slowing down (and I need to get my ass to a gym) but my walks in the early hours just are not cutting it anymore.

I don't want to live out my days where my husband and I point at each other's bellies and laugh. Or listen to our bodies make noises when bending over with tight jeans that should ...just...be....thrown....away already.

I've gained and lost weight before and what used to work for me is getting myself in the mindset that I don't need to eat until I pop a button. That concept was easier when I was younger though. I know I'll never look as thin as I did in my 20's and that's okay because I'm not so sure my kids would recognize me.

As I'm fretting about my weight, I often think about those Dove ads where they want women to love themselves for whom they are. The ads show women of all ages, colors and body types and sizes. I absolutely love those ads because they (presumably) use "real" women, not actors. These ads make me think differently. The commercials are obviously designed to make you want to buy their products but I'm past that....I'll buy what I want to use but I like the idea behind the promotion.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7DdM-4siaQw
This video brings me to tears every time I watch it. What makes us think we're not worthy of going through the "beautiful" door. C'mon! We must watch too many celebrities on TV and flip through too many magazines with photo-shopped models adorning the pages because many people are confused about the definition of beautiful. Including me sometimes.

I'm not trying to make excuses for the amount of chocolate and other treats I plan on consuming during the Christmas season....no, no, no...I will make an honest effort to stop myself from stuffing my face like a hamster and get some much-needed exercise.

I smell a New Year's resolution coming on!

Christmas Time's A-Comin'

Ah yes, the season is upon us. I've decorated the house...as good as it's going to get. I've started the shopping although I'm not as organized with the Christmas shopping as I should be. My list of giftees changes almost every year mainly because I'm sort of grinchy when it comes to buying gifts for people who I don't see very often. It's not that I'm not thinking of them. It's that I'm just not very good at keeping in touch.

Do not fear, my Martha Stewart-type friends, I really do have more than just a tree decorated.

 The most exciting thing for me about Christmas time is the time off I take from work and having the family home with no commitments for a few days. I like to do what I want for once whether it be bullying a family member to play a game of crokinole or just shuffling around the house and looking out the window every now and then.....or quilting....or reading.....or blogging. I may even make a few phone calls to my siblings (with a glass of wine in hand.)

This game is calling my name.

On my to-do list: buy more wine.

My favorite movies to watch during these holidays are Stand By Me, Planes, Trains and Automobiles and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. I don't like to go out in the cold during my Christmas time off if I don't have to and I enjoy eating copious amounts of chocolate. I'm unhealthy as it gets during this self-confinement period.

No worries, if you're dropping by my house for a visit, I will roll out the red carpet.....with wine and coffee stains maybe, but rolled out nonetheless. 

(Here's a stand-up comedian talking about when company would stop in 20 years ago as opposed to today. I can relate to it in so many ways! )

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Swzvm-gXHg

But really, I'm not that selfish to think that these holidays are all about me, me, me. My Mennonite-ness taught me that Jesus is the reason for the season.  We can't forget that our women and men in uniform have played a huge part of giving us choices on how we want to spend our Christmas holidays. And of course I need to thank my parents. Mom and Dad raised a human being with common sense and a sense of humour...although I've been known not to utilize either one...but all in all, they did what they knew how to do.

Merry Christmas everyone! Stay safe and warm this holiday season!

What's Up Doc?

When the kids were little, every other week we were in the doctor's office due to an infection or bizarre-looking rash. Doc would send me off with a prescription or advice for the kids' ailments and off we'd go. As Mike and I are approaching middle age, it's us that always seem to be in the doctor's office with an infection or bizarre-looking rash. The only difference is, when we go to the doctor we are required to get blood tests, hand over stool samples and God only knows what else Doc has up his sleeve that day (besides our colons).

I think Doc has a colon-cleansing fetish. ......

Doc told me to eat a salad every day. I can do that .....I love salads! I may miss a day or two because, face it, I don't have somebody making my meals for me. Doc told me to take Metamucil every day. That I cannot do. I'm okay with the taste of it, believe it or not, but it's the painful side effects it has on me. Doc tells me I need to soak in the bath tub 2-3 times a day with epsom salts. Ummm, I don't have somebody to run my bath and yell "You're bath is ready, Rebecca!" so I'm shooting for 2 times a week?? .....maybe?? Doc tells me to drink more water. Ookaaay, if I drink more water my back teeth will start floating but I'll see what I can do. Doc says come back in ten days and tell me how it's going. Oh yeah, I'll come back. "I love coming to see you!" (I get the over-the-glasses look again.)

I know I need to exercise...doing stretches just doesn't cut it...especially for my heart. I don't want to end up like my parents  --  over-worked and out of shape.

I figured I did pretty good when I stopped smoking in 2006. I quit that nasty habit with the help of nicotine gum. Gum was probably not the best solution because then I was addicted to that for 10 years. When I talked to my doctor about it, 3 years into the gum addiction, he told me that it was better than smoking. Okay, good. My jaw took a beating all those years but eventually I got off of that too.

I know I'm getting older and for the most part I'm okay with that....although I thought I just turned 18 until recently when I couldn't find my reading glasses and they were on the top of my head. Hmmm. I was looking for those things for quite some time too.

Thankfully, hubby and I have never had very serious health issues but as we're aging and dangling around the half-century mark, we're seeing our health in a new light. But Doc, do we really need to go through all the colon-cleansing? I think he needs to calm down with that.....is this his addiction, I wonder? 

Reading Books is What I Do

Clan of the Cave Bear

This novel of awesome beauty and power is a moving saga about people, relationships, and the boundaries of love. Through Jean M. Auel’s magnificent storytelling we are taken back to the dawn of modern humans, and with a girl named Ayla we are swept up in the harsh and beautiful Ice Age world they shared with the ones who called themselves the Clan of the Cave Bear. A natural disaster leaves the young girl wandering alone in an unfamiliar and dangerous land until she is found by a woman of the Clan, people very different from her own kind. To them, blond, blue-eyed Ayla looks peculiar and ugly--she is one of the Others, those who have moved into their ancient homeland; but Iza cannot leave the girl to die and takes her with them. Iza and Creb, the old Mog-ur, grow to love her, and as Ayla learns the ways of the Clan and Iza’s way of healing, most come to accept her. But the brutal and proud youth who is destined to become their next leader sees her differences as a threat to his authority. He develops a deep and abiding hatred for the strange girl of the Others who lives in their midst, and is determined to get his revenge.

Oh my goodness, is this ever a great book to read! I should have read this classic years ago. If you're going to do the short-cut way and watch the movie, I'll tell you right now that the movie doesn't do this story justice. (It rarely does.) I watched bits and pieces of the movie online when I was almost finished reading it and found watching the movie painful.

The days where I was only able to read two or three pages and then didn't get back to Clan of the Cave Bear for a couple of days (by then I'm having withdrawal symptoms), I would totally remember where I left off and what had happened in those last few pages. Everything is unforgettable in this book. There are several more books of this series but I'm not sure if I'll have time to read them all. I have stuff on my plate right now, but maybe when I'm retired and living on an island, ahem, I'll get to the rest of the series.

Right now I'm reading a Stephen King book. Nope, not a novel. It's a book called On Writing, A Memoir of the Craft. In his witty way, (he's hilarious actually) he talks about his life and gives advice on good writing. I love Stephen King's written work and many of the movies based on his books tickle me pink. I've read several of his books over the years and although I lean towards non-fiction, every now and then I just have to pick up a King book. I mean it, I HAVE TO. His books are like using an occasional drug..... sometimes I feel like my brain needs to let loose. This guy has been pumping out books like a machine-gun so there's no shortage to choose from. His books from decades ago are just as enthralling as the ones he's written in the last couple of years.

So for any of my fellow bookworms who haven't read Clan of the Cave Bear, go ahead and dive in. Let me know what you think. Give me your opinion of the rest of the series too....no spoilers! 

Who's Donald Drunk?

My dad died in December 2003. On the day of the funeral, it was bitterly cold. I mean bite-me cold...... -30 was the high temp that particular day. No kidding. Dad was 81 years old when he died and in his later years was a heavy drinker and grumpy as hell. Growing up with him was no picnic but even when we didn't get along, we still got along.

Although most times we didn't see eye-to-eye, we still had conversations. These conversations would get quite interesting and I wish I could thank him now because I have plenty of patience when speaking with people with hearing impairments and strong opinions.

If I could talk to him today, I'm thinking the conversation may go something like this:
"Knock, knock"
He'd look at me over his glasses. "The damn door is open"
"How are you?"
We would go through the usual formalities....how's everyone doing?....etc.
"Since you've been gone, some really weird stuff has been going on"
"Oh, really? What have I missed?"
"Well, our country voted in Justin Trudeau as Prime Minister last year."
"Who is this Justin? Any relation?"
"Pierre's son"
Dad stares at me for about a minute.
"What the ****? This country is going to hell in a hand basket. He's just a snot-nosed kid." Shakes his head.
"Not only that but the Alberta people voted in NDP as well."
"What the Sam Hill? What are they thinking?"
"Aaand the US just voted for a new president this week. Donald Trump won."
"Who's Donald Duck? Somebody actually named their kid that?"
"Close ...but no, Donald Trump" I say it slower and louder.
Dad stares at me again. "Donald's Drunk?"
"Pretty much.....Donald Trump. He's a real estate mogul. Rich bastard. Even paid for his own campaign. He's got absolutely no experience in politics and now he's President of the United States. Isn't that something?"
"They're all bastards, Rebecca, don't kid yourself."

Today I see where his train of thought was heading. Several years ago I didn't or didn't want to. I knew him well enough that when Justin Trudeau was voted in for PM of Canada, I could feel my dad twitching in his grave.

I sometimes look back at the few pictures that I have of him. He's really handsome...definitely a man. He was fearless. Worked too hard to keep his family fed, clothed and a roof over our heads. Back in the day, I'd watch him work on the farm and although he had a slim build, he had muscles popping out all over his arms and back. He could flip a 300 lb pig like nobody's business. He didn't work out--just worked. He was loyal and stubborn. He was easily irritated by hypocrisy and stupid people. Dad would go absolutely livid if he found out somebody was bullshitting him. He was an engineer at heart and the smartest man I've ever known. (Maybe it's the little girl in me talking, looking up at her daddy). He and my mom bought 10 acres of land in 1968 for $2000 and it took them 20 years to pay it off. (So those neighbors of my mom's, if any of you are reading this, and you'd like to have coffee with her AGAIN to discuss the sale of some her land....fuhgeddaboudit....it ain't gonna happen.)

Hmmm....I see a little bit of myself in him...and not the handsome or muscular part.

In 1941 or 1942, when my dad would've been about 19 years of age, and World War 2 was in full swing, the government and military boys came a-calling to my Grandpa's farm in rural Manitoba. All the conscientious objectors were collected and carted off to the Headingley Correctional Centre to pay for their crimes of not responding to the draft. Needless to say, my dad and some of his brothers were on that bus. Dad spent a year in the klink. "It was the most well-run jail at that time. Some of us even learned how to cook," he would say with a smirk. He said the guards loved having all those Manitoba farm boys incarcerated. I think he regretted the decision of not fighting for our country later on, but he never said anything. He saw how soldiers were treated by the Mennonite churches in our area and was very disgusted. (Another reason why our family stopped going to church, I think.)

So as I'm standing there in the graveyard on that frightfully (insert your favorite expletive here) cold afternoon in December, 2003 waiting for my turn to shovel his grave closed, all I'm thinking about is how damn cold it is and this is what dad would have done for me.

Hurting Hearts

I heard on the news recently that a 59 year old man broke into a home in the early hours and sexually assaulted the young girl whose bedroom was in the basement of the home. That just pissed me off. I shook my head and carried on with my day. This afternoon my son texts me that he's coming home early from school because he's quite shaken and can't focus. His friend was raped a couple of nights ago. Now there's a connection. Now my heart hurts.

Something like this happens and it affects so many people. I can't imagine what her parents are feeling! How about her neighbors? relatives? teachers? I have an idea how her friends and their parents are feeling. My heart hurts thinking about all of them.

What's the justice system going to do with him? Apparently not much. He's done this kind of thing before.....for over 10 years! He's out of jail in no time and released into the public to do as he pleases. No big deal.

So now what?

I can't help thinking about my own daughter. She's 13 years old. She and her friends have rubby-dubbs making lewd comments towards them on the city bus. What does the bus driver say? "Now guys, stop it or I'm going to kick you off the bus." How about kicking those fuckers off of the bus right now? These are young women being treated as objects for Christ's sake! I'm afraid for my daughter but I try to teach her how to handle these situations because these people are not worth wasting one's breath over. It's probably a good thing I'm not around when things like this happen. I'd end up serving time in jail longer than a rapist.

I've had to report a physical assault. It was at my place of work about 13 years ago and when I called the labour board they told me that there wasn't a workplace harassment law in Alberta. That's interesting. I was told to call the police because pushing people into warehouse racking and pulling hair so hard my neck almost snapped off was not appropriate. No kidding. I filed a police report. The police interviewed everyone involved...even my witness. I got a call a few days later telling me that everyone likes to joke around at their place of work and the policeman basically told me to lighten up. Oh, okay. What was I thinking when I reported this? My heart still hurts thinking about this.

So now what?

I don't personally know the young lady who was assaulted a couple of days ago but I know that she if was brave enough to report it immediately, she's an awesome person in my books. I know she will carry on and lead a wonderful life. I don't know her but I have faith in her.

I'm Late, I'm Late for a Very Important Date!

Every time I am rushed, I think of the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. I'm pretty sure he's my alter ego. I think of him constantly as I'm running around, continuously glancing at my wrist watch. Oh Nivens McTwisp!..... and you thought you were forgotten.

I always have so much on my plate that I have to make time to have some fun. Tonight I'm hosting what some us have dubbed The Crappy Dinner Party. My friend, Janet, came across an article talking about how one woman enjoys having friends or family coming over for dinner without notice. The woman in said article, checks the fridge, the freezer and whatever she can pull together for a meal is totally fine with her guest. Now, our Crappy Dinner rules are not quite that clear, in fact everything gets a little fuzzy after an hour or two anyway, but we have established that the person hosting is not required to clean their house, dress up or do any special shopping. I really don't care if the host is in pajama pants and a stained tank top with no bra. The point is to get together, have a bite to eat, perhaps a few drinks and just have a nice time. If the guest so chooses, she may bring a dessert (nothing fancy) and perhaps a beverage she'd like to share. (May or may not be alcoholic). 

Between Scouting, quilting, reading, family, work, household stuff and whatever else I decided to throw in the ring the past couple of decades, I almost forgot to add friends. Everyone needs to add friendship and humour to their life! I'm terrible with staying in touch but I've come to learn that when somebody just stops in for a visit, I'm totally okay with it as long as they realize that they may not get a full four-course meal with all the fixin's but I will try my best to roll out a red carpet.

The last couple of years, I've been trying to "scrape my plate off" a little to make time for more important things. My daughter likes to have tea with me. Sometimes we talk, sometimes we don't say much and that's okay. My sons sometimes like to come by and talk about what's going on with themselves, ask advice or whatever. The guys sometimes say what they want to say and walk away and that's okay too because I realized that they knew I was there to say it to. (Their conversation skills are normally better than that though)

I enjoyed the years of carting children off to soccer and swimming but I'm glad our family slowed down because I knew I couldn't do it anymore. I didn't learn my lesson though....I started making myself busy again with other things. What's wrong with me?

I may have to do some plate-scraping. 

Orrrr....maybe we should call these so-called dinner parties Group Therapy Sessions. :)

A Free Ride to Vandalize

I have a memory from a very young age that has stuck with me all these years. I've got a few of these silly memories and certain events, dates or situations will pull these memories from their hiding places in my head. I'm talking about something that I saw back when I was...oh, about six years old. I wish I would have had a camera back then and taken a picture because the picture in my head is clear and I'm not sure if I can capture the scene with words.

This memory would have taken place back in the '70's. We lived a few miles out of the town of Winkler, MB and on Halloween night, sometime after the supper hour, (I remember it being dark anyway) my brother's 17 year-old girlfriend asked my dad for a ride into town. I tagged along. I'm thinking Dad assumed she wanted a ride home but as we pulled into town she asked him to pull over and drop her off on Main Street. When she got out of the vehicle, I looked out of the side window of the pick up and I couldn't believe my baby blues! There was a big crowd of people, mostly teenagers but there may have been some adults in the mix, trashing the street and everything on it. As a girl proceeded to turn over a sidewalk grate, she made eye contact with me. Garbage was strewn about, people were throwing eggs everywhere including at the store fronts, and many were tipping anything that stood upright....it was a huge mess and nobody was doing anything about it. It was a crazy sight.

My dad didn't say a word all the way back home. Either he had not wanted me to see that or he saw it for the first time too. I'm thinking a little bit of both. He never wanted to to talk about it and I got the "look" every time I brought it up. I think he was embarrassed for our little Mennonite town. The population of Winkler at that time may not have been much over five thousand and employed a very small police force. There was nothing anybody could do but ride it out until morning. How awful would that be in this day? It was a license to vandalize on that one night of the year.

My husband, who is only four years my senior, remembers sitting in the car with his dad, parked down the road from the chaos, and watching the scene unfold. I heard years later that this event took place every Halloween and it was a ritual. This activity would have petered out by the time I was of age to partake or I would have heard about it. Something like that was not my bag anyway...I did stupid things but that would not have been one of them.

This morning as I walked my dogs at five in the morning, I couldn't help but think about the scene I witnessed forty-one years ago. I walked past a chip bag wrapper left on somebody's lawn and saw a jack-o-lantern that had rolled off of a front step. Perhaps more damage was done here in Lethbridge last night but never to the extent Winkler's youth used to celebrate. I've never seen anything like it since except for on TV. Maybe my immature brain at the time thought it was crazier than it actually was but I have talked to others that remember how bizarre Halloween night was in our sleepy little prairie town so my memory couldn't be too far off.

Maybe other towns and cities did this kind of thing? .....I haven't actually researched this. Maybe I'm over reacting and it was just a cool thing to do, like smoking in public places.  I'd like to hear from others from this era and get the low-down.

My Credit Report is Scarier Than Halloween Night

My favorite scary movie is the original Halloween. It scares the pants off of me every time I watch it. I love it! But my credit report, now there's a true-to-life scary story.

In the past five years or so I finally got a little smarter and started requesting my husband's and my credit reports. I don't pay a cent for them either. (Must be the cheap Menno in me.) I fill out the form, which I find online, photocopy the appropriate ID, put it into a secure envelope and drop it in the mail. Within a few weeks I get a detailed report of what these credit reporting places have on us. I get reports from Equifax and Trans Union and they can have totally different information on us. That's only one weird thing about this ... it gets even more strange. Here's a list of things I've either had to request to get corrected or have investigated and dropped from our reports.

• Incorrect previous employment. Equifax had information on me working at a bodyshop back when we moved here in 2001. Mike worked there for a little while but why was it on my report? Obviously a misunderstanding. 
• A bank I didn't recognize was doing frequent credit checks on me. Laurentian Bank of Canada was doing credit checks every few months. I requested more information and nothing was found so the credit checks stopped and it was dropped from my credit report.
• Mike's personal phone number changed. We tracked it down to a credit union that had done a credit check on him when he made a loan for our trailer. But why would Mike's phone number change? Weird.
• MTS...I'm thinking it was the the Manitoba Telephone System? It was hard to tell on the report. They apparently had reported me to a collections agency. Wait...what? I made sure to clean everything up before we left Manitoba in 2001 and left a forwarding address so I asked that to be investigated. They came back with no information and it was dropped from my credit report. 
• Combinations of Mike's name changes every now and then which is understandable because his birth name is Jon Michael but he often just goes by Mike. Whenever he corrects it (and he will list Mike or Michael as an alias) they screw around with it. I've noticed they enjoy using hyphens.
• Mike's workplace name changed. Hmmm, he's still working at the same place he's worked at for over a decade. The address is correct. Maybe it's misspelled? It's hard to say. The alphabet is a crazy concept. 

If anyone out there works for, or understands, either one of these reporting agencies, please, please let me know how information gets incorrect and jumbled up from year to year. Some of these things just shouldn't get messed up. They don't let you know when something changes at their end. It's your own responsibility to find out your facts.

For those of you who haven't requested your credit reports, Equifax has information about a lot of your bills too. It even tells you how many late payments or missed payments you've had on your cellphone bill. Yep....so if you've sloppy about your bill paying, your credit report will reflect it.

A credit report is different than one's credit score, which you have to pay for.  We just asked for our credit scores when we applied for a mortgage last year and that's good enough for me. (There's the Menno in me again.) I'm sure you could get it from your bank when you apply for a loan or a credit card because they have to request it anyway. After all, you pay the bank a lot of money every year, why wouldn't they just tell you what it is?

So there's my scary Halloween story for all you kids. The first time I received our credit reports, I felt like somebody had been watching me all these years. It gave me a jolt as I read eight pages of my personal information. They have a lot, I mean a lot, of information about us. It's frightening how my personal information can change without me ever knowing too....but that's the world we live in.

Have a great Halloween!

Low-German Word of the Day

Schlawp....hope I spelled that correctly. Is there really a correct way to spell low-german words? Has anyone actually seen a low-german dictionary? I'm not sure something like that exists. I think of a low-german dictionary kind of like the Loch Ness monster......there have been sightings but does anyone actually have legitimate proof? If anybody knows of one, let me know. I'd like to get my hands on it.

From growing up in a mostly Mennonite community in southern Manitoba, we often used the word schlawp to describe things, and sometimes people, when you didn't want to waste too much breath. This one word can shorten a sentence immensely. Instead of saying "My boss doesn't answer his phone calls, doesn't help his employees and sits in his office all day doing nothing" you can just say "My boss is schlawp."  Anyone that understands the meaning of the word will know exactly what you are trying to say. It generally means weak, lazy, disorganized or describes someone who just doesn't care or has no idea what their doing. I've had schlawp bosses and co-workers. I've bought small appliances, clothes and other items that don't work properly or fall apart easily so I don't like to use them because they're schlawp.

So go ahead...use the word. It's quite funny when it comes spouting out of your mouth at the opportune time. When you're trying to get your toddler's arms into their jacket sleeves and your beautiful cherub is just laying on the floor pretending like he/she is a wet noodle, tell them to quit being schlawp. It's not a bad word so kids can blurt it out in class the next day and can't get into trouble!

Why Can't You Just Be a Princess?

I know, I know....I should be encouraging individuality with my daughter but if you saw what I'm sewing up for her Halloween costume this year, you might be on my side. "Why can't you just be a Teletubbie?" I may ask her as we're browsing Halloween Alley, answered with silence and the "look". Don't know where she gets that from.

Over the years I've had to put together a costume or two...sometimes purchased and sometimes put together creatively . My daughter is 13 and still loves dressing up for Halloween. Her brothers were done with dressing up for All Hallow's Eve by that age. Raelynn is going to be....you know those kind of people....the ones that are 35 years old and go to work for their 8-hour shift in full clown attire and feel totally comfortable with it.

Really, I am okay with making her costumes.

The school girl uni still needs some touches but I've got the major parts done.
Ooops....don't look at the fireman's calendar to the right.

This year she is some sort of anime character, I think? I don't know, but I do know that I'm sewing up a black and red Japanese school girl uniform. To order the uniform was to cost a ridiculous amount of money but going to Fabricland when they have the Buy 1 Metre, Get 2 Free Metres Event was priceless. (I'll need lots of fabric because there's a good possibility that I'll screw it up the first time.) I love it that Raelynn doesn't mind homemade costumes because they're usually a whole lot nicer than the store-bought ones that come in a 9x12 plastic bag and thinner than tissue paper. Besides, you can be much more creative and authentic-looking if you can put together your own costume.

Coleson & Raelynn...Coleson's is homemade, believe it or not

Here's a few costumes of Halloween past...

I think this is Brody

This is Brody but Coleson also wore
this costume 5 years later.
This one
is also homemade....my first!

Brody is a ninja....homemade costume

Raelynn is a ....fairy? The store-bought little girls' costumes all look the same to me....princesses, fairies, they're all the same

Our house isn't quite as busy at this time of the year as it used to be. Now that the youngun's are getting bigger, I can make the time for Raelynn's costumes. She approached me sometime in August with her ideas and together we figured out how we could make it happen.

Gone are the ghosts, grim reapers, princesses and fairies that I used to buy off the Wal-Mart shelves.

Hello? Edward Scissorhands? Can you come over?

Could you imagine having Johnny Depp over on a Saturday afternoon helping with the gardening? I'd even make him supper!

We bought this house in April 2015 and the front flowerbed is choked with Bishop's Weed. At first I was thinking "Great! Low maintenance!" but not anymore. Now I'm thinking I want something much prettier in the little garden adorning the front of my house. There is a really nice hosta and a lily in there somewhere but they just get bullied out by these weeds. Even the sprinklers are buried under there somewhere and I have to constantly pull weeds so the sprinklers can actually spray the lawn. I do believe there is a place for vigorous ground covering plants but a potentially cute front flower bed is not the place. This stuff creeps into the lawn, between the steps and drops seeds like mad in spring. I've been in crazy mode trying to keep it under control. Anyway, we'll be digging out the roots the next nice weekend and dealing with this elephant on the yard.

We also have these beautiful vines that grow up along the deck posts in the back yard. I love them but if I don't keep those under control, the place looks like something from a horror movie. Last summer, obviously too late in the summer, I went out to trim them and they had spread over to the neighbor's back parking area and were making their way around their yard. I was horrified....I didn't even know the neighbors yet! Needless to say, I trimmed them immediately.

Now, I'm not blaming previous owners at all. In fact, after we'd lived in the house for about a month, we found out that this was a show home back in 2001 when this neighborhood was in it's infancy. That would explain fast-growing plants among a few other quirky things that I won't get into.

I love this house. I wished we could've moved here sooner... although I miss our old neighborhood like crazy. I guess working out things on your house and yard are just part of the journey of making your house your home.

I wonder if Johnny Depp would enjoy kielke and schmontfat?

Turkey Hunting

I was not prepared for Thanksgiving weekend this year and I have no excuses. I figured I could get what I needed for Thanksgiving dinner the night before. What was I thinking? No, really.....I'm old enough to know that you don't run out and purchase what you need last minute at this time of year.

Since we were doing some business in another area of the city than where we live, we decided to pick up a few Thanksgiving dinner items at our favorite stores before we headed home on Saturday night. We checked several grocery stores and kept meeting up with the same pathetic, unprepared turkey hunters in every store we went into. We were feeling defeated after checking our fourth grocery store. After hopping back into the vehicle for the fifth time, my husband looked me square in the eye and said "Ham it is then?" 

On the way home that night, we decided to check the store nearest our home. With a heavy heart and thinking we would probably be picking up a ham instead, hallelujah, we found plenty of turkeys. Sigh.

WANTED! DEAD OR ALIVE
....PREFERABLY DEAD, DE-FEATHERED AND FROZEN

Fortunately (and thankfully), it all worked out and our family got together Sunday at noon with a cooked turkey and all the fixin's.

We played several rounds of crokinole (knips braat or knips dasch for my fellow low-german comrades), ate more, watched a movie, ate some more, played more games and ate more. (Cheesecake pumpkin pie is REALLY good.)

Of course there's many things we are thankful for but I realized, once again, how easily we lost sight of why we were getting together and celebrating this Thanksgiving weekend. It's embarrassing how we take advantage of everything at our fingertips and we would have had just as good a time if we would have had ham instead of turkey. 

Can I Get Directions to the Nearest Insane Asylum?

Now, I wasn't going to make this site of mine a "how-to" blog but on occasion I may share my vast knowledge on a particular subject. I'll start off by saying that once your children are teenagers, it's all payback and parents should take full advantage of it. For instance, I have this apron that has mustaches all over it and everytime I wear it, the conversation goes something like this...."Coleson?" and he says "Yep" and then I wait until he looks at me and I say "I mustache you a question". He just shakes his head and tries with all his might not to smile.

The Dispicable Apron

Another approach a parent may try is to recite lines from movies and childhood shows frequently. For example, when you walk into a room where your teenager is sitting, probably his or her room, and yell "Who...made... this... great ...big... mess?!" (This is from the Big Comfy Couch... if anyone had the pleasure of watching at least a hundred episodes of this show, you probably own a straight jacket). Shrek and Toy Story movies have some great lines to use on your teenager until they run screaming from the room.

Or how about when your teen is in the bathroom, walk by and knock on the door and yell "I have to pee!" ...even though there are other bathrooms in the house and you don't have to go pee. Every now and then when my teenager steps on my toe or bumps into me, I yell "ouch!" A really good one (I'm quivering as I'm thinking about it because I LOVE this one) when your teenager passes their learners license you can inconveniently ask them to drive you places like the grocery store or gas station at all hours of the day....preferably when they're playing games on the computer with their friends or better yet, wake them up early on a Saturday or Sunday morning.

Remember, your quest is to get the eye roll.

If the truth should be told, I don't think I've ever caught a full-on eye roll but I know I may have to stop tormenting my offspring at some point or one day I'll get a pat on the head and the nurses will say "there, there".

The Oldest Munchkin

Our oldest child moved out on his own about a year ago. He knew and we knew when it was time for him to get out of the house. Brody's a great guy and didn't cause us too much grief while he was at home but it came to a head the last few months before he moved. I felt awful the day he and his friend started carrying all his belongings out to the truck. I had to keep myself in check because I kept thinking "Have I failed with Brody?". No! I didn't fail...if he was smart and brave enough to decide to live on his own, then there was no reason why he shouldn't be moving on. Why was I feeling bad? He needed his own space and besides, he wasn't living that far from us.

Brody in his room at our old house.
One of those sticky notes on his computer says "Get a Job"

Brody went to the college the year after he graduated from high school. He took one year of the Computer Technician Program and decided that wasn't for him. Now he's back at the college, upgrading so he can get into an engineering course at the University. He's paying for this himself this time and it's hard to watch my boy struggle but I know it's for the best. Nowadays he appreciates it when we offer to buy tires for his car for his birthday.

I know Brody's a busy man now, trying to build a life for himself and I try to connect with him every week or so without nagging. I invite him over for supper every now and then and on occasion he'll just pop in to talk for a few minutes.

I wish him all the luck in the world.....although it'll be his hard work and dedication that will determine whether he gets through the tough stuff. It's hard to keep your head up when all the stress in the world seems to be sitting on your shoulders but I know he can do it. He's stubborn. 

Stop and Smell The Flowers

Our kids are under so much pressure these days. Besides me nagging them all the time to wake up on time to catch the bus, eat a decent breakfast and whatever else I decide to nag them about that day, they also have the pressures of selecting a post secondary school and careers at very young ages. That's almost crazy. I think schools want to see their students succeed but sometimes there's a price that many are not prepared to pay. I hate watching stressed kids. I remember holding down a part-time job myself while going to school. I couldn't do it.
Here in Alberta, kids can write their learners license at the age of 14! That's fine and dandy, but when I'm in the passenger side of my truck, staring at my 14-year-old child BEHIND THE WHEEL, it scares me at first. First thing I tell them is that they have, have, have to listen to me or else I'll just pay to have them take driver's ed. Number one, I don't want my truck banged up and number two, I'd like for us to come back home alive. So far I haven't had to pay for driver's ed. (Notice how my truck was more important than our lives.) In my opinion, 14 years old is way to young to be behind the wheel of a vehicle even if it's with an experienced driver.

Don't get me wrong, I want my offspring to work hard and be successful in life, but they're expected to start so young. The tension building in teens today is scary.

With all the pressure our kids are experiencing right now, it makes my heart smile when I see them smiling, laughing, being with friends or just plain having a good time. I loved it when my daughter, Raelynn, came to me a few days ago and showed me this photo.

This is a picture she took with her tablet early one morning from her bedroom window. She loves looking at the sky, day and night. This picture tells me she took time away from her busy, over-worked mind, to enjoy something relaxing to her. I suppose life's about balance and even these young ones need to learn to release tension productively.

I also need to learn to stop and smell flowers more often just like Daffodil here likes to do. Except I don't think she's actually smelling the scent of the flowers. 

It's Grandma's Way or The Highway

Anyone who has done genealogy knows it's time consuming. Several years ago I thought I'd try to find my family's history so I eagerly opened my laptop, searched for a website where I could hunt down my ancestors and, with shaky hands, keyed in some names. I was so excited! Well, if I should know anything about Mennonite history, I should have been aware that there were about 50-75 people with the same name that came on any given boat to Canada in the late 1800's. I totally understand why the people I know, who have done extensive research on their family's lineage, are retired. That's right...retired. They generally have a little more patience, can organize their time better and probably know more relatives and have connections to figure out which relative on the boat was their ancestor.

So I gave that up...for now.

This is my maternal grandmother. I don't know much about her. She looks like a no bullsh*t kind of lady, doesn't she? I feel like yelling low german expletives when I look at this picture too long. She raised many children and did a lot of cooking and cleaning. I know that in this picture she is about 65 years old. 

Elizabeth Harder was born in 1890 and died in 1968, which was a year before I was born. My family doesn't talk much about her and I don't know why.  I hear little snippets of stories about her but nothing that sticks to my memory bank. I know that this is a passport photo so that makes me wonder whether she travelled. 

My mom and I went looking for her grave about 8 years ago and we found it, unmarked, in the Winkler cemetery. Grandma's grave had not been visited, by anyone in my family anyway, since her funeral in June 1968. My mom and her sister purchased a nice little headstone and had it placed at her grave. 

I often wonder whether Elizabeth and I have anything in common. Oh, I need to talk to her!

Oh for the Love of Scouting!

We put Coleson in scouting when he was 9 years old and he has never looked back. I started volunteering a year later....I have looked back. I quit for a couple of years then jumped back in. I started off helping the leaders with Cub Scouts and then was registrar for for the group three more years. I registered this year as fundraising coordinator. I just couldn't stay away!

It's the camaraderie between leaders, parents and youth that I missed so much. I'm sure I gave the group commissioner a sideways look when he asked me if I was interested in volunteering back in 2010. I'm not the camping type but I found that one doesn't have to like camping in -40 degree weather to enjoy scouting! What a bonus! Paperwork and organizing things is more my bag anyway. 
Warning: One may develop wonderful friendships with other members and parents of the group. 

14th McKillop Scouting Group has an Investiture day at the beginning of every Scouting year where we invest all the new members. It's quite the ceremony! This year it was at Park Lake and all the families were invited to witness and be involved in the great event. Later, we all went to the corn maze a few kilometres down the road, got lost for awhile, petted some farm animals then enjoyed a weiner/marshmallow supper over a beautiful camp fire. Many youth and leaders made a camping weekend of it at Park Lake.....they find any excuse to go camping....but many of us just went for the day. It was so much fun.

Mennonites Are Us: Kielke und Schmontfat

That's pretty much the extent of my low German since I left southern Manitoba. I know a few other impressive words but that's all I'll amaze you with for now. I can understand low german better than I can speak it for when I was growing up in the Mennonite community in southern Manitoba, I wasn't required to actually speak it very often. I grew up in the village of Schanzenfeld which is about three km's south of Winkler (which is about 16 km's north of the Canadian/US border). It's not a colony, as some of you may think. Mennonites like us don't colonize....unless we were drinking too heavily. Today, if you drive through Schanzenfeld, it is the suburbs of the small city of Winkler.

There is the Mexican Mennonites and then there are us "modern?" Mennonites (for lack of a better word). The Mexican Mennonites are the ones whose ancestors came to Canada on the boat and then travelled to Mexico and then back to Canada. Many of the Mexican Mennonite women still dress in the old-style garb....the duek (kerchief or shawl on the head), simple dresses, socks with heeled shoes or sandals....you've seen them. You may have thought they were an off-shoot of the Hutterites. Most Mennonites dress like anybody else though and speak really good English....most of the time....unless we've been drinking heavily you may hear the word "oba" every now and again.

My family is of Mennonite descent but we weren't very good ones. We didn't do church and that seemed to define being true Mennonite in the Winkler community. Our family was from bad seed I think but I still call myself a Mennonite and we grew up eating plenty of the good food which I still make and we enjoy today.

BBQ'ing Farmer sausage.....from Winkler. Something about southern MB farmer sausage...there's nothing like it, I mean nothing. The farmer sausage sold here doesn't compare. I have to get my MB sausage on the black market. Well, not that bad. I get it "imported" from family members. When I run low, I send out an SOS.

This is Kielke. Also known as homemade pasta. It's not gluten-free by a long shot...more like injected with gluten. Gluten-intolerant people would just die at our house.

And this is Schmontfat. Also known as cream gravy. There's different variations of this stuff. I like mine with lots of pepper, parsley, salt, garlic powder and tabasco sauce. You non-Mennoniters would say it's close to an Alfredo Sauce. This would be another gluten-injected food item.

And there you have it. One heck of a Mennonite meal that we enjoy frequently when we have the right farmer sausage.

Any of my fellow Menno's who read this blog, please correct me if I'm wrong on any of my information. I didn't do extensive research.   ;)  

The Zippered Path

Found a catchy title for my new post......it's the name of the pattern for the most recent throw quilt I made. I think I'm going to be donating this one to the scouting group' s silent auction in December. Hopefully I can make a few bucks for the kids going to Canadian Jamboree in Halifax next summer.

This quilt was fun to make. I know, I know....some of you are rolling your eyes. I was a non-believer too at one point in my life. I find quilting very relaxing. I don't give myself a deadline (anymore) or else it's really not fun. I may work on it for ten minutes before I go to work. I may work on it a few minutes before going to bed or while I'm waiting to head off for an appointment. I think that's the key to enjoying a hobby like this--just working on it whenever you feel like it.

At least it turned out better than the cake I made today...

The Concussion Game. Sorry I Meant Football

So here we are watching Winston Churchill Bulldogs Football on Thursday night. This is Coleson's High School team. Unfortunately they lost once again but it was a great game. They were playing really good at the beginning but somewhere along the line they lost their mojo. The score was something like 43-26 for the Chinook Coyotes. 

Raelynn and Mike. Raelynn has been enjoying the football games this year. I'm sure I enjoyed watching boys running around in tight pants at that age too. ;)

And here we are.....the fearless leaders of our Dyck clan.....of the Lethbridge chapter. That night was a nice evening. We're usually in toques, mitts and heavier jackets.

When we grew up in southern Manitoba, football was not a popular sport and I knew absolutely nothing about it. Since Coleson has been playing, I've been learning and enjoying it. We encouraged Coleson to play when the opportunity came to him last year. He has never played before but he loves it. Mike and I played plenty of sports as youngsters and it's not just the sport itself that is so enjoyable, it's the camaraderie the team shares. 

I Won't Always be There...

I was hoping to write about something a little more upbeat this time around but my mother has gone into the hospital recently and my head has been filled with other thoughts. She's 84 years and she doesn't get hospitalized very often but when she does, it can be worrisome for us kids. This time she's dealing with infections in her legs and lungs. Living so far away from her, I must contact family to find out what's happening with her. If she's in the hospital for a couple of days, then I call the hospital so I can speak directly to her. At that point I just need to hear from HER how she's doing.

As a child, when I would fall out of a tree and get bumped and bruised, she'd say "I won't always be there to say 'Rebecca, watch out'". Today, when I think back, all I hear is "I won't always be there". She had a point and I probably should not have rolled my eyes. There's a lot of things I should not have said or done.

Being the youngest in the family and being born later in her life, I see her a little differently than my older siblings. We're not really close but we have a bond and, after all, she's my mum. Who cannot worry about their mum?