A perfect weekend...

For me the weekend started on Thursday with the birth of my grandson. I came into work on Friday morning to finish up some things I had to drop when Jen went into labour, but I left at noon to stop in at the hospital then go home to prepare for the company we had been expecting.

We had planned to have my brother-in-law, Jerome, and his two boys, Sol and Nathan, down for the Labour Day weekend to make chili sauce, go to the Harrow Fair and get in some beach time.

Friday afternoon was spent chopping peppers, tomatoes, onions and celery then simmering cauldrons of sauce on the stove. We threw a few burgers on the grill and ate them in front of the TV watching DVDs of the Carol Burnett Show. An after dinner swim at the lake and a round of ice cream sandwiches nicely finished off the day.

Saturday was Harrow Fair day. I had already done the Comber Fair and the Corn Fest the two previous weekends so I wasn't planning on spending the entire day. My mission was to visit the poultry barn and find someone who raises the breed of chickens I'd like to have. Beyond that all I wanted was a corn dog and some chip wagon fries (you can't really go to a fair without having some type of fair food - it just isn't right).

On my way to the poultry barn I got distracted by a pen full of alpacas. What beautiful creatures! Lise and I are considering them for when we buy our farm. After talking to the alpaca lady I ambled over to the poultry barn and talked to the poultry folk. I found a man who will sell me some pullets so my mission was accomplished. A corn dog and fries in the pavilion then a detour to the local United Church's pie tent to pick up a couple of pies for supper (peach and blueberry) and I was on my way home.

I left Lise and the gang at the fair so I could get home to get things ready for the kids coming out for supper later that afternoon. Of course when I left the fair grounds was right around the time they were starting the parade so I had to navigate around all the closed streets and find a way around the town then back in again to stop at the hardware store for more canning jars.

Lise and the boys arrived just as the jars were ready to be filled. The boys were restless so Lise took them down the lane to the beach and soon Matt, Sue, Natalie and Eve arrived. Natalie is really into Hannah Montana. I had picked up a Hannah Montana magazine for her and couldn't wait to surprise her with it. She was thrilled and immediately put it away in their car so she wouldn't forget it. Sol and Nathan started showing Natalie their origami projects and Sue and I took a little ride into Amherstburg to look at a swing set I saw on sale.

I really enjoyed having that time alone with Sue. Now that I'm not taking classes with Matt and Sue is back to work I don't see them as often as I'd like and I really miss them. Sue's a smart, level-headed girl and a good match for Matt. I like her so much and I'm glad she's my daughter-in-law. We've both been single moms so we have a lot in common. We jawed all the way into A'burg but when we got there the swing set I saw was gone so we stopped at the dollar store for marshmallows and water pistols.

We got back to the house just behind Jen, Phil, Khai and baby Tyson. Jen had been released from the hospital that morning. Little Tyson got passed around like a football while I tried to make the exhausted new parents comfy. Natalie, Eve and Khai changed into their swim suits, we passed out the water pistols, gathered the beach toys and off everyone treked, down the lane back to the beach. I stayed behind with Jen, Phil and baby and got them settled then made some lemonade and visited.

When the crew returned from the beach we all pitched in to set tables and chairs out under the big ash tree in the front of the house (yes, the one that's scheduled for removal). The corn was cooked, wine uncorked and the lamb nicely roasted so we sat down and toasted our growing family. As I sat at the table watching everyone laugh, talk and eat I couldn't help but feel like matriarch Barbara Stanwyck (aka Victoria Barkley) of The Big Valley.

Another after-dinner beach romp, bug spray, marshmallows and a fire and it was time to call it a day. It was then I wished I had a very big house so they all could have stayed the night. I know my kids are grown and have lives of their own but I still like to have them close. I enjoy them now, more than ever and I'm so proud of them.

I went to bed that night contented - no, I was happy and I was thankful. All those years of struggle and worry had led me to this very happy ending. I'm going to hang on to this feeling and store it away so I can revisit it on those days when I forget how wonderful life can really be.

Tyson's first day

Our Tyson's first day was filled with visitors. Of course I didn't waste any time making this little video tribute.

Please welcome Tyson Jamal

My daughter Jennifer gave birth yesterday to a healthy 7 pound baby boy!

I enjoyed the privilege of coaching her through her labour helping her push her son into the world. What an experience it is to be there with your daughter as she gives birth. As I held her and reminded her to breathe I couldn't help but remember me giving birth to her and how life truly does come full circle.

Anyway, here is a little video of Tyson's first bath at two hours old.

I can't begin to say how excited I am to now have two grandchildren. Tomorrow I'll have my son and his wife and their two girls and my daughter and her boyfriend and their two boys here for a beach day and roasted lamb supper. Yeah, life is good.

Driving stick

For the past few days I have been driving my daughter's boyfriend's Honda Civic 5 speed. Why? Well, because Jen can't drive stick. Her boyfriend is getting another car in a few days - one with an automatic transmission -  so we've swapped cars until then.

Learning to drive a car with a manual transmission is one of those things, (along with power tool usage, basic plumbing and electrical), that I think every gal should know how to do. I learned to drive stick back in the 70s on a boyfriend's old Renault. He broke my heart but he also taught me how to do donuts in parking lots. See? There's salt and sugar in everything.

My first brand new car ever was a little 4 speed Chevy Chevette. When my step-father bought me  that car I hadn't driven stick in quite some time and was very nervous about driving it home. I can't believe I'm confessing this here but I actually made the dealership deliver the car to me because I was too nervous to drive it off the lot.

When it arrived at my parent's house my kid brother Ricky kept pestering me to go for a ride. My mom said she'd like to see me drive it too and asked if I could take her up the street to the grocery store at the mall. Gee, when your mom asks you to take her to get groceries, how can you say no?

The three of us piled in and although I stalled the car a couple of times going up the hill, we arrived safely. I stayed in the car with Ricky as he bounced around rolling down windows, turning knobs and pushing buttons while Mom went shopping.

About a half an hour later with the groceries stashed in the hatchback, I tried to leave the parking lot. I stalled that car 23 times in a row. How do I know it was 23 times? Ricky. 

Yes, my baby brother, with all the perverse glee of a nine-year-old boy, counted every single time - "That's 15, oh, 16, ha, ha, 17..." Finally a man walked up to the car and asked if everything was alright. I wanted to tell him that everything was fine but before I could say anything my mom piped up, "She just got this car today and doesn't know how to drive it." I could have died.

"I too do know how to drive it, I'm just not used to it yet," I defensively said. The man poked his head in the car and looked at my feet. "Well young lady, the first thing you need to do is take those cowboy boots off," he advised.

I balked, "What and drive in my sock feet?" "Yes," he said, "you need to feel the clutch."

I took my boots off and chucked them in the back seat at my kid brother. It took about five minutes of coaching but the stranger talked me through feeling the clutch and changing the gears. It was all coming back to me. Finally with a toot of the horn we were off and I never stalled that car ever again.

Now that's not to say I've never stalled any other manual shift vehicle. About nine years ago my brother-in-law taught me how to drive a semi. I stalled that rig many times while I was learning but he was so patient. I eventually got my semi license and was so proud.

Yep, knowing how to drive stick is a skill that comes in handy. The thing to remember is that the clutch on every vehicle feels different and that until you can feel the difference, you're best not to wear cowboy boots.

She's a year old!

I can hardly believe it but Eve is one year old now. Aint' she sweet?

For the Bible Tells Me So

One of my favourite quotes was made by the late Erma Bombeck, "Guilt is the gift that keeps on giving." With a Catholic mom and a Baptist father and as a young adult becoming a Salvationist, I know guilt - and yes, it is the gift that keeps on giving.

In my early 30s when it became clear to me that I could not adhere to the heterosexual imperative our society demands, I stepped away from the church. Why hang around someplace where you know that they would run you out just for being who you are?

In the ensuing years I have had to find my own sense of spirituality but have often thought of all the young people, still within their churches, questioning their sexuality. I've read that suicide rates for young people who question their sexuality are much higher than the average and I often wonder if this is not because of the guilt and shame which is inflicted by fundamental and main-stream religions.

This past week while perusing the titles at the video store I came across this title:
For the Bible Tells Me So.

If you are a young person reading this who is struggling with your sexuality or a parent whose child has just revealed her/his sexuality, or anyone who has struggled with reconciling your faith with your sexuality, run to your video store and rent this film.

Having my first...

My daughter is expecting her first baby in August. Yes, I'm to be a Memé again. In going through some old file folders I found this little piece I wrote not long after having her.

I loved being pregnant. As my belly grew, I wallowed in the glory of all the preferential treatment I received and the mounds of pecan pie that I consumed. Visions of cherubs filled my dreams. My waking hours were spent decorating the nursery and devouring parenting books and while I fought a loosing battle with girth control, I developed a stout determination to be the best mother that ever walked the earth.

What could possibly go wrong? After all, they're only babies, nature's most adaptable creatures. It would be easy to get an infant on a reasonable schedule within two weeks right? Yes, those were the blissful days filled with pleasant dreams and anticipation of giving birth to the Gerber baby.

Someone once told me that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is - I went into labour three weeks early. Now most people know me as a cool and quite competent woman but I must confess that when my water broke, I lost it. Had it not been for the composed demeanor of the seasoned head nurse, I most certainly would have forgotten everything I learned in prenatal class.

Once I got it together again and resigned myself to the fact that this baby was going to be born before I got the garage to put the snow tires on the car, the delivery went well. Apart from a brief moment of respiratory arrest when they made the mistake with the epidural and froze me from the waist up instead of from the waist down, it was eight mercifully brief hours of labour, delivery in a regular hospital bed and back to the ward in time for supper.

After the delivery I was consumed with energy, ready to tackle anything that came my way and when they brought little Jennifer to me I nursed her like an old pro. Shortly after feeding time was visiting hour and with my cooing bundle nestled in my arms I held court like the Queen Mum. Exuding confidence I proudly exhibited my latest accomplishment and boasted that I felt so good that I felt like going home then and there.

Before I knew it visiting hour was over, my new daughter was finished her final feeding and was whisked off the the nursery until the wee hours of the night when she would be returned to me for another fix. I settled down in bed to rest and dream about which of her new outfits I would bring her home in.

The morning bustle of the hospital roused me with vague recollections of fumbling in the dark with a screaming infant - surely a nightmare. When the nurse came in with my baby I asked her if anyone got the number of the bus that hit me. She giggled, placed Jennifer in my arms and on crepe soles squeaked away to get the rest of the layette.

Jennifer was wide away and hungry. Our eyes met and at that moment she began to howl. Perhaps I should have combed my hair I thought. Oh well, maybe if I feed her she might like me better. Calmly I began to go through the motions of breast feeding and as I pulled my baby towards me the reality of the situation overwhelmed me. I was condemned. For the next eighteen years I was solely responsible for this child.

Instantly my bravado dissolved, I was utterly inept and it wasn't long before I was howling louder than the baby. I spent the rest of the morning sobbing into my pillow, inconsolable, trying to bear the disgrace of knowing that my baby was in the nursery being bottle fed.

Happy New Year

Little Eve has a lot to say New Year's Eve at Meme's place. She's such a happy little girl. She'll be walking any time now.

Dear Santa...

My oldest grand daughter Natalie has just finished typing out her letter to Santa. She had a little help from mom but this is pretty much verbatim:


Like many thousands of children in Canada she will be mailing her letter to:
Santa Claus
North Pole
H0H 0H0
Canada

Canada Post has an entire page set up for Canadian children who wish to send their letters to Santa and if they send them in early enough and if they include their return address, Santa will answer each child's letter. Remember though that this is a busy time for Santa so if you want him to answer you, send your letter in as soon as possible. Details are on the Canada Post web site.

I coulda been killed...

That's me. I wasn't even a year old in this picture and here I was zooming around a parking lot under the el, somewhere in the Bronx in, (oh my god) a walker! What were my parents thinking! Sheesh, by today's standards they might as well let me run with scissors!
Considering that cars didn't have seat belts or collapsible steering columns and babies were often placed to sleep in the back window next to the bobbing head Yankees player doll on the way to Bear Mountain, it's a miracle any of us baby boomers survived at all.

Happy Birthday Mom

Today, October 26th is my mom's birthday and she sits in an Ottawa hospital awaiting placement in a nursing home. She's recovered well from her stroke but remains disoriented and confused. As time goes on, she will become more confused and remember even less. She has already forgotten much of her past and I know that one day she will even forget who I am.

So while I still can, I believe it's important that I remember for her. I know that everyone says this about their moms but my mom was an incredible woman. No, she didn't discover a cure for cancer or solve world hunger or peace but she was incredible because she swam against the current of her time and tried to live her life differently. Her life may not have turned out as she would have liked and she did suffer greatly but along the way she had some pretty cool adventures.

I'd like to share one period of her life with you that had a tremendous influence on me throughout the years.

My mom was a from a Francophone community in Northern Ontario. Her father didn't believe in educating girls beyond grade six - why does a girl need an education when all she's going to do is change diapers? My mom argued with my grandfather and managed to stay in school until grade eight. After that, she would sneak out of the house to attend high school. I'm not sure if she managed to finish high school but when she was nineteen she started taking courses in typing and shorthand. By then World War Two had ended and she left home to find work.

One of her sisters had found a job in Ottawa working as a chambermaid at the historic Chateau Laurier hotel and mom left home to join her. Soon, her typing and shorthand skills landed her a job with Blue Cross in Toronto so she moved to Hogtown and lived there for four years until she accepted a transfer to a Blue Cross office in New York City.

I'm not exactly sure how long she worked for Blue Cross but her next job was to work for a man named Archie Bleyer. Mr. Bleyer had once been the band leader for Arthur Godfrey and in 1952 had started his own recording company he called Cadence Records.

Mom always fondly remembered Andy Williams, Phil and Don Everly (she said they were always polite, sweet boys), and Dorothy, Carol, Janet and Jinny of The Chordettes. Mom had friends in the secretarial pools of other record labels like RCA and Capitol and the gals used to swap disc jockey pressings of the 45s and albums of the day.

When my mom was pregnant with me, the gang at Cadence had a baby shower for her and all the label's stars were there to congratulate her. She left Cadence Records to stay home and be wife and mother but I always got the feeling that she missed the music business. But she hung on to all the records she collected while working for Cadence and these were the records I listened to growing up.

In our house we listened to all kinds of music from rock 'n roll to country, to pop, to big band, to classical. I grew up appreciating all kinds of music and it's small wonder that today I find myself married to a musician.

So to celebrate my mom's birthday here's a little video of a song she used to sing to me. Happy Birthday Mom!

Had a little visitor today

My daughter-in-law Sue borrowed my car this morning so she could go down to the Ministry of Transportation office to write the exam for her D (truck) license. Sue's dad works for one of the local waste removal companies and has encouraged her to get her truck license and apply for a driving job for when she comes off maternity leave in March. She's a gal after my own heart, seeing as how I hold a D class license with a Z (air brake endorsement).

Anyhow, after passing her written exam she brought the car back to me and surprised me with her tiny passenger.

Here's little Eve at grandma's office at the Local. I think she'll make a fine shop steward one day.

So much going on...

First, I want to say thank you to everyone for your kind words of support about my mother. When you get a call late at night saying that this may be the last time you get to see your mother alive, you tend to panic. The events of the last week certainly have "put my pacemaker in high gear".

Oh my, where do I start? Well, my mom had a stroke and a fall. We're not sure which came first, the stroke or the fall but she has bleeding on a couple of spots in her brain. The doctors were also rather concerned about the possibility of her developing pneumonia as she aspirated some vomit during one of the seizures she had when she got to the hospital.

She's spent this week in the neurological observation unit and I won't know if she will be stable enough to step down to a regular hospital room until the end of the week. Lise and I plan to travel back to Ottawa this weekend so I should know more in a few days.

Ok, so I have my mom in the hospital almost 800 kms away and I'm scheduled to go in for surgery on my shoulder next week. I have a pinched nerve in my back (which makes driving for 10 hours particularly delightful) and I'm supposed to have my new roof installed next week. Valium anyone?

This has been quite the emotional week for me. My mom has suffered the last few of years with dementia so when I call her she doesn't often know it's me she's talking to. She thinks she's talking to one of her sisters and that makes it hard because when my aunt asks her if she's heard from me she says she hasn't talked to me in years then I'll get a call from my aunt scolding me for not calling my mother. (sigh)

Mom does have moments of lucidity but 90% of the time you have to repeat things over and over because she doesn't remember things. They say that people with certain types of dementia can remember things from their past like it was yesterday but can't remember what they had for breakfast today. My mom, sometimes can't remember things from the past either. I was surprised that she even recognized me when I saw her at the hospital.

From what my brother said on the phone, as we drove to Ottawa, Lise and I were not sure what we'd be walking into. We didn't know what to pack so just in case we brought "funeral clothes". All I kept saying to myself as we traveled each kilometer was, "Mom, hang on, don't die, I'm on my way." I just wanted to see her alive one more time, even if it was only for 5 minutes, just to tell her that I love her and always have.

Mom and I spent several years estranged when I came out to her and she tried to have my kids taken from me. My mom is not a bad person it's just that she became a Catholic charsimaniac and for several years I simply couldn't reason with her. We finally patched things up about eight years ago but things remained rather strained.

We've never been a family that talks things over let alone express how we feel so in a lot of ways we are like a bunch of strangers where the only thing we have in common is that we survived being stranded on a deserted island. It's kind of sad when you think about it. I've waited almost 50 years to hear my mother tell me that she loves me. When I left her, she held my hand, kissed me and told me she loved me and while that was so very good to hear it also makes me very sad. Sad that I only hear this now that she is demented and disoriented. How do I know that she knew it was me she said she loved or if she thought I was someone else? At this point, does that even matter?

Anyway, just being in Ottawa has been very emotional for me. I've always loved the city of Ottawa. It has many charms and many fond memories but it is also the city I fled when leaving my abusive ex-husband. So returning to Ottawa has brought back those memories too and the thought that had I not had to leave Ottawa I might still live there and therefore been able to help my brothers look after my mom.

Oh well, you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube and shucks, if I hadn't left Ottawa perhaps I might have never met Lise or found my haven at my Lakeside Lair?

My mom

I'm in Ottawa today. My brother called late Thursday night to tell me that my mom had a fall and a stroke. Lise and I spent all day yesterday driving here. I saw her briefly last night. She looks so old and afraid.

I'm heading back to the hospital this morning. Will have more to write later.

Bouncy Baby

I've been trying to upload this video here for the last several days but haven't be able to because my internet connection sucks. Anyway, all frustration aside here's another short video of my little grand daughter Eve.

Eve Speaks

Ok, I'm dropping into grandmother mode again. Just can't help it and there ain't no cure for it either.
The kids took this short video of Eve blathering away while playing with her daddy. Don't know what she's saying but she sure does!

Two proud Memés

For Mother's Day the kids arranged for Lise and I to have our photos done with the two girls. My step-grand daughter, Natalie is seven and here Eve is three weeks old. Natalie's been a good girl at school this week so this afternoon I'm taking her to the movies to see Shrek 3.

For more Eve pictures check out: www.lakesidelair.com/ourAngel

Our Baby

Ok, I've tried really hard to spare you all and not to come here and keep blubbering on about my new grand daughter but...

The other day I picked up the kids to take them to get their Welcome Wagon New Baby kit. On the way back we stopped in to see my hairdresser. Her daughter had a baby too a few weeks ago and I wanted to see her grand daughter and, of course, show off mine.

After we had left and were driving back to the kid's place my son turned to me and said, "That was a cute kid." I agreed their baby was adorable. Then Matt said, with all the earnestness of a 23 year old new dad, "Ya know mom, I think I'm pretty sure about this but I think our baby is even more beautiful." I smiled then I thought about this photo:


Eve had fallen asleep while I was feeding her. Milk had pooled in the dimple around her perfect little cupid's bow and as she passed gas, she smiled. Yeah, my son is right. There is no baby as beautiful as our baby.

I've turned into...

...one of those insufferable grandparents who obsess over their grandchildren. Holy cow and it took less than 48 hours! They just look at you, coo innocently and instantly the subliminal message of the Borg is conveyed - Resistance is futile.

I made a similar video with the same music for my nephew and his wife's first baby. I simply love Alison Krause and this version of Baby of Mine so...

Hope you like it.

Introducing Eve Lillian

Our little Eve arrived this afternoon at 2:50pm Eastern, weighing six pounds, eleven ounces.



































Eve and her Mémé Lise.


















Eve and her Mémé Barb