“Ye say, they all have passed away, That noble race and brave, that their light canoes have vanished from off the crested wave; that ‘mid the forests where they roamed there rings no hunter’s shout; but their name is on your waters, Ye may not wash it out.”

Lydia Howard ne  e Huntley Sigourney

indian Collage


Toronto’s Rom  – interesting sights and shapes.  The building looks like it’s going to fall onto the street.  It’s daring don’t you think – to build an object that imposes itself over a very busy street in a downtown area.    The lines and shapes inside the building were pretty neat too.  We spent the day there several years ago and the boys took my camera and took some 3000 pictures!


When we toured the Egyptian area, suddenly I turned and my youngest son was gone.  I panicked and started running around the area and couldn’t find him anywhere.  I went through the exit doors of that area and found him on a bench  looking  a little white.  I immediately laid into him about walking away and not telling me and he said ” I couldn’t stay they have dead people in there.  Also, mom if that’s the way the Egyptians treated their pets I want nothing to do with them; they wrapped their poor animals up and buried them alive with their masters.   I’m not going back in there and you can’t make me.”


Dirty Laundry

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAA little while back a friend of mine asked me this question; “Why do you blog?”  I looked at her blankly because I really didn’t have an answer.  That whole day  I kept asking myself  “Why do you blog?”  This friend of mine is a good 15 years my junior and she does not participate in social media.  She doesn’t have a  facebook account,  a blog, a twitter account, a google account or a Pinterest account.  I think the reason my friend asked me that question is because she is feeling the pressure to social media as all of her friends have  Facebook, twitter and a host of other social media accounts.  So back to why I blog; I really don’t have one answer.  I’m not the most private person in the world; actually I tend to tell too much.  So does being a blogger make me narcissistic?  I wonder sometimes if my friend thinks that I suffer from narcissism.   I’m getting more private as I get older, but I sometimes need a sounding board or a shoulder to cry on.  I’m blessed to have good friends and family who are always there for me.  Maybe blogging is an extension of that support, after all you do make new friends blogging.  People who have never met connect to one another because of the stories and experiences they share.  Is blogging just dirty laundry, well some bloggers share dirty laundry.  My personal feeling is that most bloggers are just  honest story tellers.  Like the aunt or the uncle who sat around the camp fire telling stories; that’s what the community of bloggers are – story tellers.   The funny thing is, when people find out I blog they kind of look at me like I have two heads.  I guess they don’t understand the need to share stories, experiences or life.  Back to my friend’s question, “why do you blog?”  when I really give some thought to this question, one word keeps popping into my head and that word is “voice.”  Blogging gives me a voice; in a world full of people afraid to be individuals or stand out from the rest, blogging gives me just that, a voice to say what I want to say without being judged.  If someone doesn’t like what I have to say, they don’t have to read my blog or post a comment.   My own personal experience has been one of support; I’ve sought out blogs that I enjoy and through comments and “likes” I’ve become a part of a much larger community and I love it.  Of course there are limits to what I blog.  I don’t share everything, there are some things that are left behind closed doors in the secret compartment in my head.  However, my blogging can be useful in dealing with my children.  The blogging world makes my children nervous because every time they do something silly or something to get themselves in trouble, the first thing they say to me “are you going to blog this mom?”  Kinda like Santa Claus, “better not be naughty or else Santa’s not coming.”  The beauty of blogging is I blog all year, Santa only comes once a year!  “Better be good or else I’ll blog it.”  Maybe that’s the answer; I blog to keep my children in line!


*Pictures taken at Dirty Laundry Vineyard in Summerland, BC



“As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”

Henry David Thoreau


OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAs she stood on the edge of the bridge staring into the depth of her soul watching the swirls of waves crashing against the rocks  hundreds of feet below her, all she could feel was empty.  She felt numb from the horror of watching her whole life walk out the door on her two weeks ago.   A couple of weeks of hell she thought, two weeks of questioning everything, did she know? How could she not know?  All those nights Steve said he was working, going out with a few of the guys from work for a drink.   “We will make up for it baby, I promise.”   She believed him and now felt extremely naive and stupid for trusting him.   She was actually happy for him as he seemed happier than he’d been in a few years.  The last few years Steve and Nora’s marriage had lost its spark as Steve suffered from depression.  It can be exhausting living with someone who is mentally ill and she had been so strong for him, constantly trying to lift him up, making him feel good about himself, believing in him, helping him believe in himself.    Now Nora was starting to wonder if maybe she did too good of a job.  Lifted his ego right up, he started dressing better, taking care of himself, gaining confidence.  Shit, he was even singing and here she was thanking the good Lord for his intervention and helping Steve out of his dark days.   Little did she know that the devil was helping Steve out and sent a messenger by the name of Clarissa.  Clarissa worked for Steve, she was his assistant and took care of his every needs.  His every needs she thought, not just drafting his letters, answering his phone, getting his coffee but Clarissa took care of Steve’s needs in the bedroom as well.  The woman looked like she belonged in a brothel rather than an office.   Why couldn’t Steve see through her manipulative ways, the phony  laugh and flash of her eyes at every man she encountered? Nora saw through her immediately, but Steve thought she was wonderful, making his days brighter at work he’d say; apparently making his nights brighter as well.

Staring at those rocks so far below all Nora could think of was how much work she had done over the years, work in the house while Steve sat in a chair staring at the floor,  waitressing to make ends meet when Steve couldn’t work, keeping everyone happy, the children, Steve, the dog and the bloody cat.  She hated cats but Steve wanted the cat and Nora did her best to ignore the hideous creature.   All she’s ever done is give, give, give and give some more, not asking for anything back.  Nora never complained, she prided herself on being a good wife and a good mom.  So how is it possible that she is standing on this lonely bridge staring down at cold, dark, slimy rocks?  Nora felt completely defeated and she knew if she jumped not one person would care.  Steve can move ahead and spend his life with that bitch Clarissa.  Only two things pulled at her heart and those tugs were her children.  They could take care of themselves now as  they were 18 and 25.  Sarah had always been a sensitive little girl and she had grown into a highly intelligent sensitive young woman.     Keegan just wanted to be a little boy, always wanted to play and he’s still like that, with that charming boyish grin and the little mischievous look in his eyes.    Sarah had a year left to finish up her schooling and she was looking forward to living her dream as a veterinarian.   Keegan just finished high school and was finding his way into the work world.  Nora figured  she’d be  a burden to the children; worrying about her being lonely and if she had a enough money.   This was  not what she signed up for when she married Steve,  so she was going to end it right now while she still had the chance.  Any more numbness setting in and she wouldn’t be able to move.

“Hey lady, are you ok?”  Who the hell asks a lady about to jump off a bridge if she was ok?   She turned and saw a rather portly man with glasses, that were too round, dressed in overalls that were covered in paint.  Lady what the hell are you doing up there?  Nora just turned and totally ignored him.  Lady you’re going to fall and if you don’t fall you’re going to catch yourself some pneumonia.  Wow, bright this one is Nora thought.  Look mister, I just want to be left alone if you don’t mind, just go along your merry way and pretend you never saw me.  I don’t think so lady, you look like you’re having a real bad day and maybe you need a shoulder to cry on.  No thanks mister, I’ve done enough crying in these last two weeks for the both of us, I’m all dried out, got no more tears left.   Lady whatever this is about, it’s not worth jumping off this bridge for, what if you don’t die lady, you would be one mess, with a lot of broken bones, internal bleeding,  shoot you’d be in rehab forever and if you were ever able to walk again you would probably have steel bars in your body everywhere.   Talk about being in pain for the rest of your life; is that what you want to be a burden to everyone? Not to mention the people that gotta come rescue you, the firemen are probably enjoying themselves with a nice dinner right now and then you come and long and do this?  Gonna piss them off some lady, you ever think about that.

Nora couldn’t believe this idiot.  Mister do  I look like someone who really gives a rat’s ass about some fireman sitting down to eat his dinner?   Well maybe that’s your problem mam, you gotta start caring and stop being so self-centred.   Mister what are you doing here?  This bridge is closed, that’s why I’m standing here so I can be left alone from idiots like you.  Well mam, I was driving around the bend in that lower road over there and looked up and saw you, now that’s not a sight you see every day now is it, a woman standing on the edge of a bridge?  Figured I better be driving over here to see if I could just help out in some way lady.  Whatever is going on with your life is not that bad.  This time Nora snapped at the man, “what the hell would you know, you married mister?”  Yes mam I’m married and I’ll be happily married for the rest of my life because nobody can replace my Lilly.  She was the most beautiful person ever to be put on this earth.  Was, did you say was mister?  Yes mam, four years ago Lilly and I got to take the vacation we long dreamed about,  down to the Caribbean, took one of those fancy cruises where everything is done for ya; my poor Lilly was sick the whole time.  When we got home from that trip it turned out that my Lilly had ovarian cancer; stage 4 and the doctors told us there was nothing they could do.  My poor little Lilly died a month later, just like that she did.  Did you have any children?   No mam we could never have children, it was the one thing Lilly and I wanted, never could, so we just got busy being happy and grateful for the wonderful blessings we had in our life from our family and friends. We never had a sad day and my Lilly used to say “every day that we’re  not six feet under is a good day.”  Little did we know that we were not that far from one of us being six feet under.  So lady let me say this again, no matter what you got going on, it ain’t that bad.  Just come down from that bridge lady.  What do you say we go for a drink to discuss our problems.    I really don’t want to talk to you mister, it’s none of your business, you sound like a nice guy and all but just go back to your life and leave me alone.  Can’t do that lady, can’t walk away from here and leave you like this, even if you decide to jump, then know you have a friend here with you.

Hearing this man offer himself as a friend when she didn’t feel like she had a friend in the world and Steve was with Clarissa in some cheap hotel not caring one ounce how Nora was doing.  Something in this man’s gesture broke her and she blurted out;   “he left me, he’s screwing around with his assistant and now he says he loves her and wants to marry her;” Nora blurted out between sobs.  “I’ve worked so hard at our marriage for the last 28 years, pulled him out of depression, worked two jobs to help us get by and now he slaps me in the face by running off with that woman!”  Well mam if you ask me your husband is stupid, aint no where is he gonna find your kinda woman.  You’re a pretty lady, a dedicated wife and mother, he’s gonna find out the hard way that the woman he’s with ain’t got your class.  Lady he should be standing on this bridge regrettin what he’s done not you; you’ve done nothing wrong.  Come on lady, you get down from here, let me buy you a drink and then I’ll drive you home.   You seem like a nice guy and all, but how do I know you’re not some kind of psycho killer?  At this the portly man with the too round glasses started laughing uncontrollably.  Nora thought maybe he was little off his rocker.  “What is so funny mister?”  Well lady you just said the funniest thing, if I was a psycho killer and you want to kill yourself, we’d be the perfect match don’t ya think!   Nora thought about everything she’d been going through the last few years, the pain of the last two weeks and she realized how deranged she had become to be standing on this bridge contemplating jumping to her death.  The appearance of this stranger and her ridiculous statement of him being a possible psycho killer made her laugh and once she started she couldn’t stop, all the last two weeks of pain and hurt turned into hysterics.  The portly man came running over to her because he was afraid she was going to fall from the laughing.  Give me your hand and let me help you off the bridge.  Nora complied without incident, she was ready to get off of that cold and lonely bridge.   There they stood laughing and when the laughing subsided they stared at one another and Nora thought; two souls in the depth of such great pain came together to help each other out.  God was listening and this man was right; tragic things could happen and this wasn’t tragic.  Sad ending it was but not tragic.  Mam I would like to drive you home.  No mister, if you don’t mind walking me to my car, I’ll be alright.

An ironic thought occurred to Nora as they walked toward her car;  Steve would have snubbed this man, his appearance, his job.  Steve was always a snob that way; thought he was above the average worker and his attitude use to make Nora cringe because she was a big believer of people.   She really doubted Steve would have gone out of his way if he saw someone standing on a closed bridge and she doubted he would have offered his friendship to someone about to kill themselves. Small miracles she thought, God sent her a small miracle in this portly man with too round glasses dressed in dirty overalls.