Don’t Be So Soft and Shitty

Remember when they would have christmas specials on ,like The Little Matchgirl? Well I do. It was a sad story about a poor child who sold matches on the street and she saw Happy Christmases by lighting her matches to keep warm. She died inthe end by freezing to death while looking through a window at afamily having a wonderful Christmas. Sad huh? I thought so to.

One of the biggest laughs my family got at Christmas was watching me while I cried my way through this show. They did it every year and every year mamma would say to me”Don’t be so soft and shitty!” But she didn’t laugh with the rest of them.

I got olderand got smart enough not to watch The Little Matchgirl in front of anyone. It didn’t matter though. The tears would come over any sad story. Old Yeller was big one. I cried when I was happy and when I was sad!

I knew that I had to buck up and stop being so soft and shitty. I worked very hard on it and low and behold I became as cutting and sarcastic as the rest of my family. Well that was what the rest of the world saw. I held it all in check until my second year teaching primary when this little guy came into my class ,rivers of tears streaming down his dirty little face.

His life was hard,but he always faced it with a grin, which was why this was so unusual for him. Thinking somebody hurt him, I put my arms around him,wiped his nose, and asked what was wrong. He looked up at me with big tear washed blue eyes and sobbed”Miss, somebody pizened me dog! “, then desolved into tears again. I hugged him to me and let my own tears flow sobbing “Some people are jerks!”We cried till we felt better.

Here was a little guy to whom fate hard delt a tough hand and he wasn’t scared to be soft and shitty, so why should I.

I am soft and shitty! And I’ll cry when Iam happy, or sad or whenever I feel like it., because that is me ! Soft and shitty!

The Wind is Up the Cat’s Arse

Two days ago our great little cat Rosabelle was nuts! this normally calm ,cool collected cat was running ,jumping, attacking and generally making a nuisance of herself. I should have known! The wind was up her arse and a big storm was coming.

Mamma always said when the cat acted like that, a storm was coming.

When I was little, I found a kitten.( I was always finding strays.) It was very small and multi coloured and I called it Dan Richard because if it was a male I might be able to keep it. After much begging and cajoling, mamma said I could keep it. He turned out to be a she and I loved her dearly. She never grew to be very big and was a wonderful mouser.

She had litter after litter of kittens, which were promptly drowned. There was no SPCA and we couldn’t afford a doctor for the kids let alone a vet for the cat!

dan Richard was a great one for bringing home presents. One spring day she hopped through the window with a small snake.

Now my mother had one great fear. Snakes. The snake was still rather sluggish so I had time to grab a shovel and scootch it outside and beat it to death before Mamma saw it (we were also taught to have NO mercy on snakes). Had she seen it , Dan Richard’s life would have been in jepardy too.

When winter came Dan Richard was our weather forecaster. She would go wild ,running around being foolish.

Mamma would say”Oh Christ! No school tomorrow. The wind is up the cat’s arse!” And she would be right, or rather Dan Richard would.

So as I sit here , petting my beautiful little cat, I remember Dan Richard, and wait for the wind to go up my cat’s arse again and call my friend Marg and impress her with my weathe predicting skills!

Away In A Manger

No matter who sings this song at Christmas, it always brings a tear to my eye. it was the only Christmas carrol my mother knew all the words to, and she sang it all the time. She even taught it to my little girl when she was two and I still have the tape they made for me. mamma was not a church goer, even though she made us go, but she loved this song.

Maybe because it was easy to sing, or maybe it was easy to teach, whatever, she loved it! And when I hear it ,I think of her.

I think of the times all of us over five would go out in the woods behind the house and bring home a tree. There would be eight christmas trees in the yard waiting her inspection. She’d come out, look them all over,and make comments.

“Nope, too big .Nope too skinny. Nope there’s a hole in it. Cripes that’s a catpiss spruce!”

Finally she’d pick the best of a not so great lot. I think she sent us all out just to have some peace and quiet with only three kids home.

She’d take that little tree in , nail an X shape board on the bottom of it and put it in the corner farthest away from the warm morning heater.Then she’d puton the lights. Her prized bubble lights were always the best. they were like little tubes of coloured water that were heated by the bulbs in them and they actually bubbled. Then there would be a rather strange assortment of balls and beads and last but not least, the tinsel! The heavy  kind that you could straighten with your fingernail and it stayed straight. Mamma swore she was the best tree decorator in the world and we believed her.

We got what we got at Christmas and it always turned out to be what we wanted even if we didn’t.

Christmas dinner was either chicken or turkey, usually very dry, with excellent gravy! There’d be tons of potatoes , carrots and turnip to go with it. For dessert there was apple or lemon pie, if brother Brian didn’t eat it all first. She had to work to save it fro “the gannet” as she called him.

The tree was put out on boxing day because it was too dangerous with the stove and there was just no room.

Years later when things were so much easier for her (read down to three kids) we’d flock to the little house on the Halfway road just to be with her and shower her with as much as we could. She’d open her gifts and tell us we shouldn’t have been so foolish with our money, or that we had more money than brains!

Then there came the Christmas when she wasn’t there. My older sister tried hard to fill the void but  there was never that same something that was there when she was alive.

Oh we feasted  and gifted and sang, but nobody sang  Away in A Manger in the key of off.

I wish I could tell her she made Christmas and I don’t care if she bought me things four sizes too big. They’d fit me now. And when I hear Away In A Manger,I think of her.

Whoever knit that person, wasted their wool!

Mamma did not like lazy! Now that I think of it ,she wasn’t nuts about stupid either, but lazy got you nowhere with her. If you had homework,you got it done right away. If you had chores, do them and shut up about it. I’m feeling a little guilty about this blog since I haven’t written in it for a while. Why? Because I was being lazy. Not lazy in the regular way. I’ve been cooking and cleaning and shopping and raking leaves and putting in wood but I haven’t been thinking about anything much. All those other things you do as a matter of course but I am giving my brain a rest.

I think I need a project. I don’t want to be a waste of wool. Christmas is coming and there are a few things that needs be done around here, but I need to make a little difference somehow. Maybe a Christmas tea for our seniors. Wait a minute.That would be me.

Ok. how about adopt a family for Christmas.Yeah ! I could get the people at darts to donate their tips to providing a family with a Christmas. OHHH the pot’s starting to boil now. I could hit the cooking class up for donations, and the fire department and you never know what or who else.Hmmmmm. Maybe I’m going to be a fair mitten after all. I’ll let you know how it goes.In the meantime, there’s the laundry and the bathroom and the kitty litter and supper and Christmas baking ad infinatum. Got any suggestions. I’m open!Gotta go. There’s work to do.

Ask A Busy Person

I retired in June and to be truthful, I don’t know when I had time to work! It seems sometimes that the more you do, the more people need you to do things. I love it. I love this little community in which I live. I love doing for this community. Those who say they are bored with retirement are just lazy. I have often told my kids that intelligent people are never bored. And it’s true!

Recently we lost a family friend to a massive heart attack. His name was John Graham MacInnes. Not just John ,but John Graham. He taught my daughter and he mentored my husband who was the rookie councillor for district 5.

But he was more than that. He was a devoted husband, father and community activist. He was a councillor for 23 years ,some of those as warden and deputy warden. He was very active in his church, the local drama group, an excellent educator, a mentor on many levels, a good neighbour and a friend.

When I would go with hubby to official functions ,I sought out John Graham because he made me feel comfortable, (and he would always sneak out for a smoke with me!) He made meeting other people easy for me.

John Graham took the time to make you feel good. He had a wicked sense of humour and was always up for a joke. He was real people. And he did all this as a matter of course. No matter how busy he was, he made time for you.

John Graham loved his broody hens and would drink rum with the best of men. Imagine our shock and dismay when at 6:10 Monday morning we got a call telling us he had died. Hubby had been talking to him at 8:30 on Sunday evening. We are going to miss him as a friend but his little community is going to miss him as a doer , a listner, a creative force and as somebody who loved his roots, community and family.

Mamma said to me one time,”If you need something done, ask a busy person!”

I don’t think I understood this until now. And not only do I do my own selfish mourning for John Graham, but I mourn for his little community which has just lost it’s most busy person.

People complain about how this isn’t done or that isn’t done in their communities. I say “Get off your arse and make a difference. Life is not all about you all the time.”

No, you will not get a prize and yes, people will take you for granted, but all that is bullshit. You make a difference when it doesn’t make a difference to you if you are not recognized for your efforts or not . Be a busy person.John Graham would love you for it. God bless the John Grahams of the world!

You’ll wish your cake dough!

As children we do not take advice terribly well. Often ,if I was about to do something that mamma was not crazy about, she would say only,”You’ll wish your cake dough!” And ,no, I didn’t have a clue what she meant and she would never elaborate. Nor would she offer advice. This kinda spooked me out.

Mamma loved to give advice, so when she would utter these words with that voice of doom, my ears perked up. I don’t know why, but they did.

Just recently I picked up abook called “Dictionary of Newfoundland and Labrador” by Ron Young (great book). And lo and behold this saying is in it along with a great number of down home sayings. Now  mamma meant this to mean you’d be wishing you could redo an action , and so does the definition in the book.

If I wished my cake was dough about things it would be these.

I wish I hadn’t been so lazy about my education.

I wish I had talked less and listened more.

I wish I had told my grade 11 english teacher what an ass he was.

I wish I’d done the dishes when I was told to.

I wish I could be more forgiving because I find this very hard to do.

I wish I was not so critical of others.

I wish I had learned to handle money better.

There were times when I wish I had put myself first.

I wish I had told certain people I loved them more often. Now that they’re gone I can’t.

But as mamma would say”Wish in one hand ,shit in the other!” What that means ,I can only guess.Sort of like “No sense crying over spilled milk ” I least I think that’s what she meant!

But in spite of these regrets, I think I would do my life over again without too many changes. I think I baked that dough pretty well. Thanks anyway ,mamma!

It’s all right for them they only got six kids!

Circumstances alter cases.There is no way that two incidences in life can be exactly the same.

I have always thought that I knew when things were possible and when they weren’t. Not true! When I was in grade six I wanted a watch. Now I needed a watch like I needed a hole in my head, but I wanted that watch! I began my tactics on my mother. I sucked up before asking. I made stellar marks , and finally I resorted to that old chestnut,”but Debbie got a new watch.”

 Mamma looked at me and said,”It’s alright for them. They only got six kids!” The ultimate guilt trip!

I never asked for a watch again. My friend only had six kids in her family and we had eleven. I determined never to be so demanding again. There she was with eleven kids, trying to hold things together and I was trying to get a watch that we couldn’t afford! To this day I don’t wear a watch. I am never late for anything and I don’t need a ticking boss to tell me what I should be doing.

Things changed as kids grew up and moved out. I grew up and provided for my own needs and wants. 

To tell the truth ,it was a wonderful lesson for me. I never want too many things. We have a tendency to measure our worth by the number of things you have. It seems as if the more “things ” you have , the more you want.

As I grow older I can’t even imagine people nowadays having six kids, let alone eleven.

In this material “me” world  I don’t think it would hurt us to look around and say to ourselves”It’s not all about me!” Our kids , maybe, but perhaps they need to be told too. It’s not all about you. There may be ten others to think about, or five or two. Sometimes l wish the most people would spend on their kids is time. This isn’t easy. It’s alright for me to say this , I only have two kids.

You Weren’t born Grown Up

It is always amazing to me, rightly or wrongly, that my kids think they know it all!

When they were in university, barely a year had gone by when, alahkazam, they knew it all. I found it truly amazing that these young whipper snappers knew all the nuances of life after just one year of university! This was the devil coming to bite me on the arse.

I remember coming home and actually sniffing at advice mamma gave to me when I started spouting off about what I knew about kids. In my over inflated opinion, my mother knew nothing! What an ass I was!

I had the methods. I had the opinions of experts! I had the psychology. What I didn’t have was the experience!

Often I would dicuss (argue would be a better word) with my mother the students in my class. When I got too huffy, she would say to me “Do you think you were born grown up?”

Well maybe I did think this! For years I didn’t listen to the sage advice my mamma gave me ,but one day I had a child. That changed the water on the beans. For months I read books, but when push came to shove, I went back to mamma!

I began to realize that kids were kids and they don’t always take advice well . Maybe the point was that everybody has to learn from experience.

You never forget a lesson that you have learned from your own mistakes. You own those mistakes, scars and all. Growing up is a series of scars, all of which ,hopefully, we learn from.

Yet we as humans,have a tendency to assume that our first efforts are correct. 

History will repeat itself if you don’t learn from it. We all learn from not only from our own mistakes ,but from the mistakes of those that have gone before us.

But we live in a different world today! We are separated by time and a totally different culture. My mother’s day is passed. Any interference by me with my children could result in my never seeing my beloved grandkids again. We are soooooo different! Different ain’t bad, it’s just different!

But I would like to remind all grand parents out there that none of us was born grown up. When you think you are right , doesn’t mean you ARE right! Life is different now! The times they are a changing! It has always been thus.

Still to all parents out there, “You were’t born grown up. “

You Never Miss The Water Until The Well Runs Dry#2

Sometimes in this life, one saying of mamma’s can apply to many situations.

In our little community there was,(I say was because as of October 4,it closed) the most unique little corner store, (but it wasn’t on a corner) a community ever had! It was Grants’s Store. When William Grant took over the store in the late twenties, it had everything people in a very rural area could want. From harness to pit props , to hundred pound bags of flour to Carter’s  various over the counter medications , Grants had it all.

Often no money changed hands and things would be done on the barter system. You might need sugar , but you had lots of homemade butter, so a trade would be made and Mr. Grant would deal the butter in another direction. Nobody had a great deal of cash money . There is no doubt in my mind, knowing the Grants, that they carried a number of people through the rough times of the dirty thirties. When William Grant died in 1951, his two sons, Robert and Lloyd, took over the store. Now Robert was the one who knew what to do. When you needed help on some project or other, he was the go to guy. While Lloyd was also a go to guy, he was also a bit of a prankster, especially when they had the store at the ferry. Everybody had a Lloyd story!

Hubby’s aunt went to Grant’s every week for her groceries because she knew fair value was given.

Well they built the bridge and the ferry was no longer in service. The ferry store closed and years later the family gave the building to the community for a community hall/fire department. The main store was still open ,but with the bridge and people leaving for work ,there was less and less business for the store. Robert had his backhoe business and Lloyd was a schoolbus driver. Robert was always more than fair when he did work for you and Lloyd would always wait for the kids at there driveway even if the were late! Just ask the MacIntyre kids.

Still in their spare time (ha), they kept the store open. It had a long counter and a warm morning  heater with chairs around for the locals to sit and talk about what was going on in the community.

Lloyd would always ask what was new when you came in .If he asked you three times ,you knew he had news, but you weren’t getting it until you shared your news.

Lots of characters sat around that stove. Two old gentlemen used to wait for hubby to come in .One day hubby went in and Lloyd set him up by saying “What are you doing today/” Hubby answered”Just working.” Now the two older gentlemen, one a former coal miner and the the other a former steel worker knew hubby taught school, which they didn’t consider work. “Huh,”says the coal miner,”you never worked a day in your life!” Hubby would laugh and he never missed a day going in if he saw their vehicles there. He loved their harrassment as much as they loved giving it!

When Lloyd retired from the bus I’d go in for milk and we’d chat about the weather. Lloyd would usually know when we were going to have a snow day and he was rarely wrong! He also had a notorious green thumb and had the most wonderful Christmas cacti that always bloomed when they were supposed to.

This week as I passed the store, I realized, that I had to go another 5 kilometres to get milk. I realized that there would be no more daily chats about weather, or grandkids, or neighbourhood news. We would no longer have a place to hang our posters about community events. I felt truly sad! Now it’s not as if we won’t see these wonderful men around, but it won’t be in the same comfortable easy atmosphere. And though I know that at 78 and 76 these gentlemen deserve to retire, I can’t help but think of what mamma said.

“You never miss the water until the well runs dry!” And I rather think that Robert and Lloyd would agree with her just as I do in this case. Thanks for being such good neighbours GENTLEMEN!

All You’re Getting Is Six Feet Of Dirt

Mamma believed that there was something better than this life ! When she was in a blue funk, however , she would often say that all you were getting out of this world ,in the very end, was six feet of dirt.

“Remember man that thou art dust and unto dust thou shalt return.” Is this so far from what mamma believed in her blue days?This one can be interpreted in many ways. Maybe there is no heaven or hell. Maybe what you are and what you do determines what is to be your end.

 Let’s say you believe that there is nothing beyond death.

This is impossible because of the fact that we are organic beings.

 We can rot and contribute to the soil and hence provide fertilizer for other plants to grow.

Energy cannot be destroyed but it can be changed. So if our thoughts are electrical impulses then it seems logical that we are never really gone, but are just changed.

So I rather celebrate that those who have gone before us are still here, but in a different form.

It is time for all of us to start thinking about where and what we come from. I really don’t want mamma to be right. I want to believe that she actually had some control in her life.

People need to think. Everyone of us has so much time on this earth. If you go through this life thinking only of yourself , then nobody will give you a second thought, but if you think about the kind of family you want to remember you, or the kind of community you want to live in, or the kind of country you want to be proud of and even the kind of world you want your grandchildren to have in the future, then it is up to you to make this third rock from the sun a better place. Even if you are another Ghandi, there will be opposition. That’s OK. and someday you and your memory will melt into annonimity and unlike Cheers, nobody will know your name.

And maybe once again, mamma will be right. But for a speck of time, if you care about this planet, the creatures who live on it, including us, and the things we may be able to start or stop you can make a difference. Somewhere in the time continuim you will have made a cosmic footprint.

Then again ,maybe we are all too proud .What makes us think we are not expendable? Other animals have gone extinct, so why not us? If this is the case ,all we are getting is six feet of dirt! And mamma will be right again.