From the Coastland

Last Day….

Carol — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 02:28:47 +0000

It’s the last day and what have I learned? I thought it was the same song, same verse, stuck in neutral with plans to move forward, exactly how I felt last year on this day. But…I changed my mind. Everywhere there is the year in review playing the good and the bad. I’ve decided not to review the bad, only the good. The good to surpass everything: a new dog, Marlowe, who lives with #1 Son & DIL and the birth of a darling baby girl for parents #2 Son and DIL. Our sweet grand-daughter, Gray is a beauty with a full head of hair, a serious countenance and smile to melt the coldest of hearts.

Mom had several downward spirals. My family, as always, the best. Old friends, new friends; loved and appreciated. Trips to Tahiti, Portland and New York City. Three writing conferences. My friend, Pam and I roomed together in NYC. Met favourite authors: Robyn Carr and Jenny Crusie. Loved Jennifer’s collage workshop and Michael Hauge is always excellent. Three UBC creative writing classes. Ten pounds up and ten pounds down. A 40th high school reunion which turned out to be great fun and the only reunion I’ve ever attended. An in-law health crisis. Traveled by train to Portland, Eugene and San Francisco. Met Julie. Rode the Golden Gate Bridge on my best birthday ever according to the Big Guy. AND… one beautiful baby granddaughter. A very good year.

My year in review.

Click to view slideshow.

Hoping this coming year brings many blessings and much love to your life.

Stay safe. Stay well. Stay warm.

It’s quick…

Carol — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 02:32:22 +0000

So was it food poisoning or the dreaded Norwalk? Same symptoms according to the Nurse Hotline. I am assuming the very rapid walk through the halls to visit Mama on Friday afternoon was all it took. Mama is fine. No symptoms. I promised I would visit her in two days. Sadly I have disappointed her and cannot visit until New Years Day. Feeling like I have abandoned her on Christmas, much like the rest of her children who do not visit. Life does suck at times.

On the other hand, half the family spend the day together, the other half worried about their little one and did not come. Norwalk is very contagious up to seventy-two hours. We will have two Christmas celebrations. So…it was a very quiet, full of laughter celebration with eldest son, wife and Marlowe, the wonder dog. He loves visiting our house, bounds out of the car and waits for the door to open. He knows he gets treats and kisses. I think we should have a dog again. Perhaps this coming year. Hope your Christmas day was full of family cheer and love. Looking forward to a wonderful 2012. Stay warm, safe and very much-loved.

96 and counting…

Carol — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 00:20:42 +0000

Who would have thought it? I’m sure Mom never thought she would live to be 96. When she was 90, she said she was going to die at 95 or after S & A have a baby. Well, the year has come and gone and what a year it was. A very big downward spiral physically, mentally and emotionally. It really has been a roller coaster ride. Many times I thought this would be the year but she has a strong heart. She is here for the very long haul. I’m going to need a lot of money if I have inherited the “strong heart gene.” If one has good health and mobility and a sharp mind, it wouldn’t be so bad to live well into one’s 90′s. The key word is “if.”

I bought a beautiful bouquet, very festive colours to celebrate her birthday and Christmas. I forgot the Purdy’s Turkish Delight. Santa will have to put it in her stocking. Mom did acknowledge it was her birthday and marveled at the number. I couldn’t stay long, I have a cold. They don’t like anyone visiting with a cold, fever, etc. The staff were advised it is Mom’s birthday. Many wished her a happy birthday. She was very gracious and thanked everyone. We had a little hug and a “love you” before I left. As I was leaving the building I noticed the “STOP, No Visitors” sign and “Do not Cross” ribbons which were not there when I arrived. The first floor has an outbreak of Norwalk, also known as the “winter vomiting flu.” Life just keeps on throwing stones on my path. Hoping Mom’s immune system will fight it off when the germs ride the elevator upstairs. You just know they will.

A very happy birthday to my dear Mama. Happy 96th! Here we are at the last Christmas party.

In the writing sandbox, a postcard story…

Carol — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 02:16:35 +0000

My blog has been sorely neglected of late. As promised here is my postcard story, but first…. A classroom exercise morphed into the back story for a small mid-western town full of characters on the cusp of decline or a push towards prosperity. Of course, the townspeople are in conflict and a body is found, stopping the new highway construction. Our little writing group each submitted a postcard story. This is mine…

End Of The Road

Riley held her mother’s hand, watching the crowd press closer. Flood lights pierced the darkness, casting long shadows. Standing close together under a big fir-tree, they shivered as mist swirled upon from the hole.

“Mom, do you think it’s someone we know?” Riley whispered.

“I don’t know sweetie. We’ve only been here a year.” Jenny wrapped her arms around Riley’s thin shoulders and squeezed. “We don’t know everyone in this crazy town. Maybe we need to move on. Some place warm.”

“But Mom, you said no more moving.” Riley wrenched free, standing angry and defiant in the gloom.

“Okay, okay. We won’t move, stay close.” Jenny pulled her daughter back into the warmth and protection of her body. Maybe, if that’s Sinclair down there, maybe we’ll stay. She stared across the chasm at the face of her grandmother-in-law Evelyn Cavanagh, the oldest woman in Bonnyville. Evelyn clutched a lace handkerchief to her mouth and leaned towards the crater. Shadows and shapes moved as the light played across the grey blanket covering a body. Dirt and rocks tumbled as the firemen climbed, pulling the stretcher up the slope.

“Stand back! Dan get these people out-of-the-way.” Chester Knight shouted to the deputy. He pushed his way towards the men, determined to see whose dead body had just screwed up three years of back slapping to get the highway approved.

“Chester, move out-of-the-way. Give the guys room.” Dan yelled back. “Let them get out of the hole.” Chester pressed towards the stretcher and slipped on the wet grass. He fell on his right knee and grabbed at the first fireman to reach the top. Chester’s solid frame toppled into the man and onto the body. Shrieks and profanities, dirt and mist rose like smoking curling from a fire. Crackling and sharp.

Jenny watched in horror as the corpse fell over exposing a pilot’s uniform. She turned Riley into her body as she glimpsed the blackened face. Evelyn sank to her knees and looked up at Jenny. Not Sinclair. Peter.

~ ~ ~ ~

A first draft submission. There were so many characters to choose from in our brainstorming class. I chose Mrs. Cavanagh, the oldest woman in Bonnyville, suspected of killing her husband and an eight year girl, Riley, living with her single mother. Chester Knight is the big contractor in town who wanted to build a highway into the town.

What a great class and group of writers. Would love to share the rest of the stories with you but I can’t. There was a ghost story, a paranormal story, a sad pathetic guy being set up and bodies piling up all over the town. I’d love to set up a weekend for my writer friends. A retreat to write, read, critique, brainstorm and eat good food. Sounds like fun to me.

Stay safe, warm and very much-loved.

Very tardy, but I’m writing…

Carol — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 22:11:39 +0000

Where have I been for over a month? Right here. Busy with life. Last week I finished another eight weeks of Creative Writing at UBC. Again, with my favourite instructor Stephanie and a group of wonderful women writers. Alas, no men writers joined us. We missed them. They add to our little group as well as entertain us. Two new writers added to the group of seven. We had fun writing, reading each others’ submissions, critiquing, brain storming and, of course, eating tasty treats at coffee break. I will post my postcard story in a few days. As Stephanie said, “this is chapter one of a novel.” Hmm….that will be the start of third novel. Unfortunately novel #1 and novel #2 are not finished. I did submit the first chapter of novel #2, a re-write of the first chapter and an opening scene for chapter two. Very well received and excellent comments.

If only I were independently wealthy, I could write all day and hire someone else to do my job. Ah, dream on dreamer. Stay safe and warm.

And back to the rollercoaster….

Carol — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 02:21:34 +0000

An update on Mother ~

Up: she knows me and we have had some lovely conversations.

Down: not drinking or eating and I’m not her daughter, again.

I really think she is just being obstinate as only she can be. Tonight, she gave me the ‘once over’ look, well…the once over the face ‘look’ with the “I’m not going to cooperate” expression and then she said it; “You are not my daughter!” Right. There was a little lift of the lips. Ha, not fooling me, Mom. I had to laugh which shocked the care aid. What? I’m not suppose to recognize when my mother is being obtuse. Mama understood she is about to become a great-grandmother very soon. The mind was all there. So it was good, even if I wasn’t her daughter and I kissed her hand three times which brought a smile to eyes and lips. Tonight was the ‘good’ in the long-term care saga.

Hope your weekend was wonderful. Mine was grand. More about my four days at the SiWC later. Also known as the Surrey international Writers Conference. Also a roller coaster ride of confidence in my writing. Yes, Lani, I am a great writer. There. Stay safe.

A sort-of bucket list…

Carol — Sun, 16 Oct 2011 01:40:00 +0000

Apparently I have one, a bucket list. There are things I should do before I die according to the Big Guy. I have more “I should do that” or “That would be fun, let’s do that one day” thoughts which are not on paper and may or may not happen. So…nope, no sheet of paper with the title “Things I really want to do” with a sub-title of “Must do or I will die unhappy” list taped to the fridge. No, I have just two little dreams: 1 – is to write and 2 – is to play the piano again. Both by the way, I am doing, well, the writing I am doing, s-l-o-w-l-y and the tinkling of the ivories, not at all.

I want to play, really I do. But, I am not disciplined. I procrastinate. I have many others things to do. I have priorities which I am or not fulfilling. Therefore a bucket list would languish and fade with time, never to be fulfilled.

Oh, I would like to go back to Italy one day, visit Scotland, Ireland, back to England, maybe some parts of France and Spain, yes to Australia. Maybe a safari in Africa. Friends who have been say it is awe-inspiring.

I am not a ride in a balloon or shoot the rapids or bungee jump off a cliff or a bridge or any tall free-standing edifice, (are you freaking kidding me, people do that for FUN!) or climb to the mountain tops, kind of person. I like my feet on the ground. I like safe. I like dry as opposed to wet. So…nope to the bucket list of things I must do before I croak. Besides, I want to stick close to home if Mom declines or departs. I need and want to be with her.

Now the Big Guy is talking about what we should do together, a sort of list of things to do in the future, like go to Scotland for a single malt tour. Last year our best neighbours went to San Francisco and rode bicycles over the Golden Gate Bridge, into Sausalito and back across the water on a ferry. He, the Big Guy loves, loves to ride his bicycle. Me, not so much liking the bicycle. I like walking. So, for my birthday week last month, we travelled by train to Eugene to have some fun with Julie and Dan, then onto San Francisco to ride bikes over the Golden Gate Bridge. It was my best birthday week ever according to the man.

If I can, you can. See!

Click to view slideshow.

So, if I did have a list and ride bikes across the Golden Gate was on it, I could cross it off. I wonder what else is on his list which includes me riding another bicycle. Maybe an European bicycle tour. I’m not fond of that idea. Although, I am thinking about the pilgrim’s walk in Spain and I would have to train for that trip. Maybe, I should start a list? Nah.

Stay safe and loved.

It feels like cheating….

Carol — Fri, 07 Oct 2011 21:25:36 +0000

I confess, I broke down and bought an e-reader. I’m running out of space. The shelves are packed. Full. The storage boxes jammed. And still I buy more. Now I’m cheating on my books. The poor things are languishing while I gleefully read from my electronic library of books. I have several genres, even a few I probably would not have purchased had I not had the reader. There are free books and classics for no charge or a pittance, as in $1.99 or $2.99. There are back lists from favored authors taunting me. I bought two of my faves. It’s a great way to catch up on earlier works now out of print.

An e-reader can hold lots of books. Lots! As in hundreds. When I travel I now take my reader full of books. One book instead of five. Only one. And yet, it feels like cheating. It’s not a real book. No tactile pages to turn. I just tap lightly on the right side. Tap lightly on the left side to go back a page or two. I can look up the meaning of a word with another little tap. No dictionary to lug around. It’s very freeing, sort of.

But I love my real books. The hardcovers, the soft covers, the pretty covers, the script, oh, just everything about a book. Youngest son and I were talking about a book versus an electronic book. We see the expediency of an e-reader, especially for travel, but, we cannot, cannot, stop buying books. Hmm…..the Big Guy says I have a “buying books” addiction. “Yes, I know,” I said sweetly and carry on. Actually I believe it is in my DNA coming down through the generations of readers. It’s in the blood.

It still feels like cheating on my “real” books, though. So I bought a few books yesterday. Lovely books. Vibrant covers. Two memoirs and a novel. And I started to read Melissa Senate’s book, The Secret of Joy. A real book with pages to turn. When I stand in line, I whip out the reader and continue on with The Reading Promise by Alice Ozma. I guess I have the best of both worlds, lovely books to curl up with in a chair and a cup of tea and a standing in line book/s to choose from while I’m waiting my turn. It’s a buffet of books tempting me. Still the e-reader feels a bit like cheating.

Stay safe, warm and very much-loved.

I met a Betty…

Carol — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 04:57:55 +0000

Last week was a joyful week. Not only did the Big Guy and I spend a week celebrating my birthday by riding bicycles over the Golden Gate bridge, eating great food and sipping excellent coffee, I met a Betty. Not just any Betty…but the fabulous Julie, also known as Lunar Betty. We are known as the Tall Canadians because we are just a bit taller than Julie. Thinking about it now, we should have taken a photo of the four of us, Julie, Me, Dan and the Big Guy, totem pole style. I wore platform sandals just to add a bit more height. I want to be taller so I cheat sometimes. Julie called me on it.

Julie and I had a running series of text messages back and forth as we traveled down the coastline on the train. Almost an “are we there yet” conversation counting down the minutes. We planned to met at the hotel and go for dinner. We all love great food and who doesn’t? Julie and Dan took us to their favorite seafood restaurant. Over dinner we talked a lot, laughed a lot and ate a lot. Love us some Julie and Dan. After dinner, a little walk around the block and back to the hotel for coffee and cocoa.

I love bringing joy to others. So I planned the perfect birthday present for Julie. I knew Julie’s favorite Lani Diane Rich novel is The Fortune Quilt. I had an almost pristine copy which I sent to Lani. She very kindly autographed it for Julie. Then it had to travel back to me by snail mail. I started sweating bullets as it was taking FOREVER to get back to me. Finally the very last possible day, Friday, September 21st, the book arrived in the mailbox. Hallelujah.

The surprise was back on.

Lani wrote a lovely note to Julie.

See!

There was joy in the room.

I got such a kick out of giving Julie my book with Lani’s note.

So. Much. Fun.

Dan took photos which you can see on Julie’s September 26 and 27 blog posts. The poor guy had so many instructions on how he could photograph us. And still….we had veto rights, this one, not that one and delete those. Julie doesn’t like this photo, but, it does capture the joyful moment.

Here we are two betties sitting on the red couch having a wonderful time, connecting, sharing and full of joy.

Stay warm, stay safe, stay loved.

On the family front, I missed Mom. She continues to know me which is very good. Plus, this entry is a stellar milestone. Post # 200.

Pardon me?

Carol — Tue, 20 Sep 2011 22:41:54 +0000

My mother never swore or very rarely used swear words when I was a child. Once in a while she would swear. This was always a surprise to me. My mother knew swear words and even more astounding, she said them. Mother is very proper. She always used big words , words to get her meaning across to me. Mom also corrected my pronunciation and told me what the word meant and how to use it. Swearing was not part of our speech. Today was a different story.

So, during my visit with Mama, she suddenly took a detour around sanity and started to swear. Some how she had the idea I was standing in the toilet and someone, anyone, could just shit on me. OKAY. This language is not the norm. It is out there, way out in left field for my mother to swear.

I had to laugh, just a little, because it struck me as funny. No big words were spoken, just a word while demanding me to move. Her fierce look of indignation was so Mother. Even during a detour into dementia, Mom still is a force to be reckoned with.

It took a little while of reasoning before she believed me. Other than the little blip, her mind was working well and she promised to be nice to my brother when he comes for a visit. My brother is being a wimp. If I can take the detours, the angry bursts, the “you are not my child” talk then he should be able to handle it too. Come on buck up, brother and be a man.

Actually, a lot of my siblings and half-siblings are not visiting, much to my indignation!

And, lest you think I never swear…nope, I can swear like a trooper when things are rapidly heading south. Staying true to my roots, “bloody hell” is often heard when stress levels are high. I once had a necklace which said, “Oh Shit” of which I wore to work when I toiled for someone else, back in the olden days. I know, shocking, isn’t it.

You know there are just times when a good old swear word fits the bill. Today, my very proper Mom swore to make her point. Then sanity returned. The best part of all, she knows who I am and loves me. Today was a good day.

I know, a long post instead of a short one. Barb, you did warn me.

Stay warm. Stay safe. Stay loved.