be-musings

Recently I've discovered that I'm a famous TV personality. The person I greatly resemble is a classy female. She holds the family together with finesse, and usually manages to get through difficult spots with her hair, dress, and jewelry still in good position. Her job as mom isn't easy, because her three children can be challenging. One is an overachiever, one barely registers on the attention scale, and the other very difficult to deal with. Like my new extended family, but I won't say which person is which. The husband is a bum, with little class, again like........okay maybe that's taking it too far. Who is this classy dame?



Since moving in here, I've noticed a change. When things aren't going my way with tthe computer or I don't like something that is happening (or an answer to one of my questions) I do the gravelly noise that Marg does when she isn't happy. If you watch the show you know what I mean. I can't help it, it just comes. I didn't ask for it. I don't even know that I want it to stay. I just can't seem to stop!

So, it's your first kiss and several questions might come to mind:

Is it the right time?

Is anyone watching?

Does your partner even want to?

Is your breath fresh?
And the big question...

Should you use some tongue?

Then you lean in and just go for it!!!

I wanted to be an actress. When I was 10, my exposure to movie stars was either Star Trek (William Shatner always showed his chest) or old pictures of movie stars. So, I thought that being a movie star was something refined. Sleek dresses, men with slicked hair, pretty women in high heels. There was always a kissing scene in the movies, and often the women bent one leg slightly when they kissed. When standing on our porch with the wall on one side of it, I used to practise being smooth. I would try to gracefully peer around the corner of the wall, with one leg slightly bent back. I could envision wearing a sleek dress and bright, clicky high heels. Of, if I had a long cigarette holder that would be even sexier.
I was missing one element of movie star imitation. I had never been kissed. My sister and I set a plan into motion to get the necesary experience. But the subjects weren't always willing. That's where my sister came in. I thought she was being nice by helping me catch my running subjects, but really I think she enjoyed my public humiliation. The sad thing is, I didn't know that I should have been humiliated. I know now, and am humiliated to post this.
Go easy on me.

I like making paper snowflakes with Matthew. We sometimes paint them with glitter paint, because they're prettier that way. To be honest, that's the only redeeming thing about some of my paper snowflakes.
Here are some pictures of paper sculptures that are more amazing than anything I have ever imagined.

I like clicky things. My favorite memory of seeing the move Serpico when too young to see it was the scene where he was walking down a hallway. I think it was underground. He was wearing dress shoes, that make a click sound with each step. I loved that.
As a girl I liked a play cash register that I used for a while. The sound of the buttons and the opening ding was cool. I learned to play a little organ because I liked to push the keys. Besides liking the music, once again I liked the clicking sound of depressing them. A few years later I began to play the piano, but this time it was because of the music.
I like most things that can be pressed - like a computer keyboard. I wish my keystrokes were more regular, because then I could get a nice sounding rhythm. Because after all, more important than accuracy when typing is.....the clicking sound.

Since Jenn tagged me for the 8 things about me, I'll play along. There might not be 8 things, because so much has been covered already. Don't mind the repeats. Instead of writing a list in one blog, I'm going to do one blog per item. How boring for you!

In grade 4 I had a best friend named Therese. She had dark wavy hair, darker skin, some excema, was of French descent. Our dads were in the armed forces, and we lived in Medley Alberta, near Cold Lake. Oh by the way, Scott also lived there, but a few years after I left. His grade 7 friend Brent is also a friend of mine. I met Brent a few years ago. 'Small world' hey?
I remember walking to Therese's place across a few streets on the base. I remember her house and her brother and his record collection that was filed in one of those brass coloured metal multi-slot holders. Do you remember those?
At the end of grade 4 my dad's 20 years of service was over, and he opted out rather than staying extra time. I got Therese's address so we could write. I couldn't give her mine, because I didn't know it yet. We left immediately after school was out. That was my first memory of staying in a hotel and flying. I puked on the plane. I was wearing my green palazzo pants. Okay, maybe it was green suit pants. The palazzo ones make a better side story though.
I think my mother was tired of having me around when she made them, because they were death waiting to happen. Every time I walked they would wrap around the opposite leg so that I either walked like a geisha or tripped. Imagine trying to run/hobble to school like that!
This is a long story hey?
I missed Therese so much that I didn't like to think about it. I didn't write her because I thought it would have made me miss her more. So, I just didn't do anything. I remember sitting in grade 6 drama thinking about her, wishing we were still friends.
When I was 21 I tried to find Therese via a name search system and later the internet. I don't really know what that would have done, because we might be so different and then the memory could become jaded. Nostalgia and curiosity I guess. I don't think I really want to find her. I like the image I have in my mind of when we were 10.
If this were Aesops Tale, it would have a moral. And it does. I have learned from Therese that what is surpressed later comes back as more of a problem. If I had been in touch and the relationship slowly declined through natural curcumstances I wouldn't always wonder. I wouldn't idealize it so much. But I don't mind idealizing it, because some childhood memories should be left that way. I have learned though that those things which I don't "deal with" come back to haunt me. Feelings that aren't resolved burn into the soul more than I want them to. Not at that moment perhaps, but years later they surface quickly and surprise. I know that it's best to have dealt with it before that, no matter how it hurts at the time. Surpressing doesn't mean eliminating.
As a reminder of my friend and of my lesson, I keep this. I've thought of letting it go, but don't know that I want to. It has taught me much.
Besides, maybe it will remind me to pray for her.

i am so lucky to have scott

This Thanksgiving is special for me. I have had a couple hard years and am finding my rhythm in life. It might be a jarring motion and perhaps the movement seems a bit "quirky" or out of step, like the spindle on the chair Erin is restoring. I accept that I am not normal.
Years ago I looked at life around me and thought I was the only normal one, and that most everyone else was weird. I have come to accept that I am unique. But I think that's no different than all of us. Unique...created by Him to be that way.
I have come to accept most of my limitations, my weaknesses, and my passionate manner. I hide my passion in so many ways. Not as overt as others. Not as driven for a cause. But driven to my own ideas, ideals, and standards.
There have been many hard times in my life. You can identify. Dead is the man or woman who has no struggle, for life is about the pull of existence and the path to the Creator. One way or another the soul one day identifies that which it has been avoiding or that which it has been running toward.
I remember happy Thanksgivings and painful ones. Times with friends and family, yet moments of sheer loneliness and inner death. Yes, you know because you have that too.
I'm preparing for tonight's dinner with loved ones. The ones who will be here are different than who I have been with before. The friends are newer, the family very new. It's a happy home today as on all days. Laughing, music, activity. Mine is not a sedentary life, with more people and a bigger house and a puppy. My life is full. My life is good.
Over the years and the hopes and the disappointments and the turmoil and the wish for a second child and asking God why about many things several times, I have learned one thing. That even in misery there is still something to be thankful for. Sometimes I had to go to the basics of existence, even when I perhaps wished existence was snuffed out. I was thankful for family even though I missed some of them. Thankful for what God has taught, through the joy and even the pain. Not for the pain, but for the outcome.
I have learned that in whatever state I am, to give thanks. Sounds pious but it isn't. Sounds unrealistic and difficult and it is. Sometimes I was too much of a baby to do it at the times I should. I haven't perfected it. But I have learned that I haven't arrived and I'm okay with that.
This Thanksgiving I wish you life. In your depths, in your love, in your wish to remove yourself from the pain of this moment of living, in your hopes. I wish you life. It will come.

Last night at 11:00 we were supposed to be trying to get to sleep. But instead I was asking Scott "How could this happen?" I was sure that the rumours we false about dogs not lasting long in the Williams house. We kept warning the children not to get too attached to Angus because this home has gone through 7 dogs in 6 years (or something like that).
At 9:00 we went to go for a walk, and Scott saw the dog run by him and out the open door. He heard the dog steps jaunting away down the street. We all looked for him for 2 hours. Ben searched the house. We called his name everywhere. The boys were sad. I wondered how to tell Matthew about it in the morning.
As I lay in bed at 7:00 the next morning, tired after a restless Angus-less sleep, I heard excited pitter patter sounds. Scott asked "Do you recognize the footsteps?" It was Angus! At 4:00 am he starting licking a sleeping Nathan, who woke Ben up to show that Angus was safe. Phew, I didn't have to tell Matthew. It all became a humorous story to tell then.
So today Scott prepared everyone for the future by saying..."Don't get too attached to the dog..."

Friday was our 2 month anniversary, which cued me to get these pictures loaded. After a couple weeks of investigating how to change a power point to a bloggable format, we finally got it figured out! I have now joined the thousands of nerds with a YouTube account. The fade in and out format didn't transfer to the video, but you get the idea.



The Secret Service made an appearance:


Our family (also our attendants):



















Studs:






Matthew's Blue Steel face:
















One of my favourite moments: