Okay, just a few more random songs that came to me after my first post. I promise I’ll stop with the old favorites now. current faves and local music still to come.
Second Hand News - Fleetwood Mac
This one has been with me since high school. It’s another one of those songs that just makes me smile and gets my body moving. Another one of those driving down the open road, singing at the top of my lungs kinda songs. How can I stay cranky when I hear that beat and the words, “Won’t you lay me down in tall grass and let me do my stuff”. Oh yea baby, of course I will.
Pride (In the Name Of Love) - U2
It just so happens that I believe Bono to be likely the coolest person on earth. Aside from automatic cool factor that just comes from being a rock star, this man is an utter and complete inspiration. His humanitarian work (not the least of which is the ONE campaign and product RED) reminds me how much work there is to be done in the world. His speech at the NAACP awards alone is enough reason to fall in love with him. I’m not a religious person, but that gives me chills. That aside, the music of U2 is simply part of the soundtrack of my youth. Their music is interwoven in the fabric of my memories.
Desert Rose – Sting
Okay, so if there is a race for coolest musician, I happen to think Sting could give Bono a run for his money. I mean, all else aside, there’s that voice and those tantric sex rumors! This is one of those songs that gets me out of my head and into my body. I usually run to hip-hop dance-type music, but this is one of my favorite songs to run to. It has this otherworldy feeling for me, lets me let go of my mind and be in the moment.
Songbird - Eva Cassidy
Eva Cassidy is one of the worlds underappreciated musical greats. She died of melanoma at 33, but in her short life managed to record an incredible library of songs, both original and remakes of classic songs. If you don’t know Eva, do yourself a favour and spend some time discovering her. I have a ton of her songs in my library, and love them all for different reasons. This is the first one I ever heard (on the soundtrack of one of my favorite movies, Love, Actually) and it’s still my favorite. It is my special song for Bella and I to dance to when we need to reconnect.
Water Is Wide – Sarah Mac Lachlan, Jewel, Indigo Girls
This is a live recording from Lillith Fair. We already know how I feel about Sarah, and the Indigo Girls have also been a favorite of mine since college. In this song their voices mesh into such beautiful harmonies – and Sarah’s voice at the end. Oh my. This song is one that reminds me that I can’t do it alone, that sometimes I need to ask for help and that because of the relationships I have cultivated in this life, there is always help available.
Closer To Fine - Indigo Girls
What could I possibly say about what this song has meant to me over the years. I discovered the Indigo Girls early in college and was transformed by their music. They represented something different for me musically – and over the years the lyrics to their songs have helped me make sense of my life over and over again.
“The less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine”. Wise words indeed.
Rag Doll - Aerosmith
Some songs are favorites not because you listen to them all the time, or even because they are examples of fantastic music. Sometimes a song sticks around because of it’s power to take you back to a place and time. Aerosmith to me is slumber parties with girlfriends, school dances in darkened cafeterias, the sickly sweet smells of Salon Selectives hairspray and Debbie Gibson’s Electric Youth perfume. Have not listened to this song in years, but it’s one of those songs that takes me right back to those days from the first few beats. Everyone needs a little musical nostalgia every now and then.
She left. Can you believe it? She just drove off in her big ole’ truck, with her ghetto camper in the truck bed, her strong man at the wheel and her two sprites sleeping in the backseat – heads bent at precarious angles - oblivious for a moment to what lies ahead.
Gone.
She burst into my house - the way she always does - completely filling the space with her presence. Wildly gesturing hands. Ever expressive face. Undeniable physicality. Uncontainable Energy. Staccato communication. Profound strength. Kind and open heart. Ancient and wise soul. A whirlwind of life and love and knowing and the sweetest kind of friendship.
One of a kind.
She was in and out of here in less than ten minutes. Quick and painless, that was the plan. We hugged and smiled and said our goodbyes casually, almost as if I was going to be meeting up with her later at the park near her house where we’d picnic on a juice-stained blanket in the sun. I forgot to take an extra second to breathe in her scent, or to touch her hair or memorize that sparkle in her eye. I was distracted by the effort it took not to cry.
I watched her truck roll down the street and felt the first twinge of what I know will only be fully realized in time. Loss. Sadness. A small empty space inside my heart. Joy. Hope. Excitement for her upcoming journey. Eagerness to see her again, belly full to bursting with her wee dove-baby.
It’s not like I didn’t know this was coming, but denial is a powerful thing. For months and months I’ve told myself to prepare for her inevitable exit, but what I did was push it from my mind. It’s not as if ignoring something ever makes it go away – but I was determined to give it my very best shot. Until today I simply was not ready to truly accept that she was leaving us.
And then she left, just as quickly and smoothly as she once entered my life, my heart, my soul.
I want to run ahead and tell the world to get ready – here she comes. I want to caution them to cherish her brilliance. I want to urge them to open themselves wide to accept her infinite wisdom. I want to make sure they all understand that we released her so that she could splash her unique brand of love and life from here all the way through the Pacific Northwest.
I want to manifest a blessed community for her in her new hometown, the sort of community that will provide her with comfort, nourish her spirit and recognize the gift that has befallen them from the very first second she enters their realm. I picture for her the kind of profound and life-changing connections that I know fuel her mind and spirit. I envision her reaching and growing and creating – thriving in the midst of mountains and oceans and green, green, green.
No way could this parched desert soil ever hope to contain such a vital spirit. A life like that needs the rolling ocean, and the jagged cliffs and growing, growing, growing all around her in order to be truly in possession of herself. I can see her there, planted firmly in mountain pose, stretching from the earth to the sky. Larger than life and at one with her surroundings in a way she could never have been in this suburban wasteland. There, I believe, she will reach her potential in ways more glorious than we could ever have envisioned.
She left, but she’s not gone, not really. She’s inside my heart, my soul, my spirit. She always will be.
Mb – you divine, mystical, magical creature. I will miss you till it takes my breath away and I will see you again soon.
Today I’m posting to ask for your donations as I prepare to take part in the 15th Anniversary of the Komen Phoenix Race for the Cure. The Phoenix Race is one of the largest 5K runs/fitness walks in Arizona, benefiting breast cancer research, education, screening and treatment programs. For more information about the Phoenix Affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure® and the Phoenix Race, visit www.KomenPhoenix.org.
I am walking as a part of the Arizona Birth Network Team. Most of you know that the ABN is my baby, co-founded by myself and Mani over three years ago. One of the founding board members of the Birth Network, Kristan Landry, was diagnosed with Breast Cancer in early 2006. Her inspirational and courageous fight against this disease is what initially brought me to this event, and I walk this year for Kristan, and for all the other women who are fighting the same fight.
I have set a donation goal of $500.00. If each of you would consider donating just $25-$50 I can easily surpass this goal. Please use the link below to donate online quickly & securely. You will receive email confirmation and I will be notified as soon as you make your donation. I thank you in advance for your support, and really truly appreciate your generosity.
Leigh did a little live blogging thing the other day, and one of the slides showed her checking her blogs through iGoogle.com. I was intrigued so I went and checked it out, signed up for Google Reader and never looked back.
Seriously, don’t laugh. This has revolutionized my blog reading experience. Would you believe that up till now I’ve been doing this the old fashioned way, just clicking on individual links in my own blog side bar. In some cases (insert incredulous gasp) even painstakingly typing in the entire URL on my own. Am I lame or what?
I tried Bloglines before, but the flow and layout of it never really worked for me. This Google Reader thing just makes it all so easy. I just added my subscriptions, and now when I log in all the updated blogs are just sitting there and waiting for me, all orderly and well-behaved-like. When I read one it, quite properly, removes itself to the back of the line until it’s got something new to show me. No more obsessive checking and re-checking for updates, no more stalking my favorites waiting for new posts. I just sit back and let them all come to me baby.
I’ve already subscribed to 77 blogs (combo of mommy blogs, photoblogs and birth blogs - summing up my life and interests quite nicely) and now I can keep up with all of them on a daily basis.
I’m in blog bliss right now, I tell you.
PS: It’s almost 1030, and Bella is still awake. You know what is keeping her up tonight? One lone-f’ing-phantom-bastard-buzzing mosquito. Apparently, the goal of its short, pathetic life is to single handedly drive me insane. The damn thing has been surviving my increasingly desperate attempts to squash it into oblivion, and the freaking incessant buzzing has Bella so paranoid that she is lying in bed with her eyes wide open, spasmodically jerking this way and that whenever she hears the thing. I’m beginning to feel a little irrational about the thing myself. Wish me luck.
I jotted these notes down here and there throughout my five weeks in Canada….
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The trip was eventful, to say the least (endless hours stuck on the tarmac, missed flights, $300 Boston hotel rooms, lost clothing, etc).
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Being home is like heaven to me. I swear I feel a hundred pounds lighter and totally stress free. I’m a different woman here.
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I’m staying at my parent’s summer home (eventual retirement home), recently purchased, circa 1800-something, and mostly falling apart. To call it rustic would be kind. I love it. The kids love it. Did I mention we’re happy here?
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There is no phone, no television and internet connection and only one mirror in the entire house. For numerous reasons, these things are very good for me.
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My girls are having the kind of summer all children should have.
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This place, Cheverie, land of my ancestors, is my heart-home. I feel so rooted here - like my veins continue out of my feet, and into the soil. I am a part of this place, and this place is a part of me. It is the only place my soul will ever call home. I hear my ancestors whispering on the wind. I feel love in the touch of the tall grass against my legs, the rocks beneath my feet, the sound of the waves in my ears, the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.
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There is nothing like being out in a field with your kids on a cool summer evening, grass so tall you could get lost in it, picking and eating miniature wild strawberries until your fingers are dyed red, and your nose is running. Seriously - nothing like it.
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Wild flower bouquets picked by an almost six year old for her great-grandmother’s birthday and tied with a grubby piece of ribbon are more beautiful than a roomful of expensive flower arrangements.
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I am infinitely less stressed, more loving, more patient, and taking more pure joy in my girls than I have in ages.
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Despite this, I still feel that bedtime is part of a diabolical plot hatched by my wee ones to break my spirit and leave me begging for mercy.
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The girls have not seemed to adjust themselves to Atlantic Time (four hours ahead of Arizona). They don’t fall asleep until between 10 and 11pm, and generally wake up between 830 and 9am.
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The sleep thing is made more difficult by how late it gets dark here - the sun does not set until around 9pm, and it’s usually not totally dark until nearly 10pm. My girls think it’s still time to party long after they should have been asleep. How do Maritime parents deal with this craziness?
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Jules is nursing far less often though, pretty much only in the morning (her long nursing session) and at nap time if we are home. She still asks now and then, but is easily distracted and not at all upset when I try to divert her attention. It seemed to transition fairly easily after we arrived here - and I’m pretty happy about it. She was nursing SO constantly at home that I was beginning to feel resentful, and I don’t want that emotion to define our nursing relationship. Now, nursing has become joyous again - a special time just for the two of us, and I am giving freely of body and my soul.
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Once again, I packed totally wrong. I’ve got drawers full of clothing that is going unworn, and I’m doing a wash about every three days. Sigh, I never learn.
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Cow’s Ice Cream on the Halifax Waterfront is the best ice cream in the entire world. No argument.
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We took the girls to the Halifax International Tattoo. Julianna fell asleep right before the intermission (often holding her hands over her ears saying “Too Loud! Too Loud!”, Bella was transfixed until the very end of the nearly three hour performance.
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The bagpipes are my favorite part of the show. Just as I believe that salt water runs in my veins, I’m also sure that my heart beats to the rhythm of the pipes and drums. I come alive when I hear them. There are not many bagpipes in Phoenix. Go figure.
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A week and a half here and I’m reminded a million times a day what I try to make myself forget when I’m in Phoenix- I am not meant to live in the desert. I’ll never be fully whole unless I reside near the sea.
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I always forget how much I appreciate a long hot shower until I’m here in Cheverie, where everyone has a well with a finite amount of water and there is no way to fool yourself that there is an endless supply. Overuse of water is distinctly frowned upon - I’d like to continue to live in that mindset back in Phoenix.
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Despite my desire to conserve water in the desert, I still believe a hot shower at the end of the day to be one of life’s purest pleasures. I’ll have to find other ways to conserve.
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I love, love, love that no matter where you go in Nova Scotia - you see garbage in public places, malls, even on the street separated into three sections ‘Trash, Recyclables, and Organics/Compost”. It reminds me of just how far behind the US is in terms of respect for finite resources. I even took pictures - locals must have thought I was crazy
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However, no matter how environmentally impactful it may be, I so wish that Nova Scotia would see the light and place toilet seat covers in all public restrooms. I start taking that for granted when I’m in the US. Me, I can just squat, but I hate the delicate balancing of strips of toilet paper necessary to have Bella go pee.
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Tonight we got a call from the RCMP saying that my father had been in an accident, and had been taken to the hospital. He hydroplaned, his car spun in a circle, and flipped completely over into a ditch, coming to rest on it’s wheels. He is totally okay, and I cannot believe that he walked away without a scratch. The ‘what if’s’ have been playing through my head all night long.
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Never arrive at a church supper 15 minutes before it is supposed to end. You won’t get any food.
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Tonight I accidentally tripped Julianna and sent her flying onto her face. Her upper lip is swollen at least twice normal size, and I feel horrible. Yes, I took pictures.
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Living in the city, where there is always some artificial light, I forget just how many stars there are. On a clear night I can walk outside and loose myself gazing up at the majesty of the universe. It almost makes me dizzy.
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Bella has collected about eight hundred pounds of rocks, sea glass, shells, dead crabs, seaweed, driftwood, and even one really clear fossil from our daily walks on the beach. I have not yet found the courage to tell her that we’re not going to be able to bring it all home.
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Tonight I was on the beach watching the sun go down. My girls were laughing and chattering away, chasing my brother, sister in law and cousin around the beach, building houses for crabs and collecting treasures. Three dogs were running around, climbing rocks, and exploring the shore. The tide was out, and the air was perfect, barely a hint of breeze. The light had that magical golden quality only found at sunset. As we walked along the beach, the sun turned from yellow into a big ball of orange and pink, making a vibrant path across the water and mud and rocks and reflecting up onto the faces of my family. The sun hovered over the horizon, and the clouds above were a creamy white, rimed by a narrow outline with the same magical pink and orange light, as if they were lit from within. My aunt and uncle arrived with their guests, and started a big beach fire. We all sat on a huge piece of driftwood, made smooth by it’s travels in the waters of the Atlantic and relaxed in the warmth of the fire. Moments like this are easily found in a Cheverie summer, perhaps even more priceless because of their plentitude. I am beyond blessed to be here.
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I miss my husband tonight. More than usual - in a lump in my throat, dying to hold him and kiss him kind of way. Just two and a half more weeks and I’ll be able to do just that.
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As much as I miss Sam, it’s always hard to think about leaving here, saying goodbye to my family and my heart-home.
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This is the view from my Grandmother’s kitchen window. Makes me wonder why on earth I’d ever want to be anywhere else.
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This week we went to Halifax for the Tall Ships Festival. We spent the day on the waterfront with Kate, wee Ben and several thousand others.
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Kate is a hundred times more lovely in person (which seems hard to believe but is undeniably true), and wee Ben a zillion times more cute. To give her credit, Kate’s pretty darn cute herself, but it’s Ben who stopped traffic all day long. He’s attention getting - that boy. Yes - I took pictures.
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Bella was in pirate heaven - not only getting to board a real pirate ship (one used in the filming of Dead Mans Chest and Mutiny on the Bounty), digging for buried treasure, visiting a pirate museum, purchasing some pirate loot, watching a pirate show and meeting several ‘real’ pirates - one of whom gave her a piece of his treasure with specific instructions;
“Don’t let this be seen in the light of day, and if you lie, I’ll know where to find you. Argh?”
My girlie took this instruction so seriously that she kept that treasure clenched tightly in her fist for several hours after the exchange - only being convinced to drop it after we convinced her that she could put it in her purse without it ‘seeing the light of day’. She’s still not looked at it - that seriously did she heed his warning.
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Nova Scotia, with its fairly strong history of pirates and privateers, is riding the wave of this pirate frenzy quite well. I remember when Bella first began to be interested in pirates we were hard pressed to find her anything pirate related - now you can’t turn around without seeing pirate merchandise, especially here in the Maritimes - where it at least has the weight of authenticity and is not just propelled by the Disney marketing machine. Bella got $20 vacation money when we got here and has collected more along the way from relatives. I’d say at least 90% of that has been spent on Pirate paraphernalia.
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I am reminded today that there is no really good reason to say no to a request to get filthy-dirty-soaking-wet by jumping in mud puddles, and a million good reasons to say yes.
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Julianna is absolutely, completely not ready for potty training. I gave it a (half-hearted) effort earlier this week and it is sooooooo not happening right now.
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Being a city girl, I tend to forget what real quiet sounds like. Here, in the country, I realize that quiet is not just the absence of sound, but also opportunity to really hear all the sounds that are otherwise pushed into the background. In the right place, silence is actually composed of an entire symphony of noises. You’ve just to got to stop and listen.
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Almost every night I walk across the street to my grandmother’s house after the girls finally succumb to the lures of slumber. I sit in the quiet house (my Grammie being an early to bed kinda girl) and talk to my husband, trying hard to fit an entire day or two worth of events and stories into a short phone call. It reminds me of the time when we were dating but not yet living together. Sadly, sometimes it seems that we talk more this way than we do when we’re living in the same house and caught up in the routine of daily life. Sometimes absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.
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I am here, in a place where the natural beauty is such a constant that it is almost easy to take it for granted. Light dances, and changes colour before your eyes, there are a million different shades of green, rustic barns, old bridges, fields full of wildflowers. I see opportunities for the most amazing pictures each and every day, and most of the time I cannot find the desire to pick up my camera. While I am here, I think, I want to live in the moment, not behind the lens.
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Bella got bitten by a dog today. She’s doing okay - but was pretty hysterical at the time. She’s on antibiotics but does not need stitches. When I go to a new doc here in the US I have to fill out page after page of medical history and proof of insurance - here, all the country clinic needed before seeing Bella was her name, address and $25.00.
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Tonight we all sat around in my parent’s kitchen and had a good, old fashioned sing-a-long, everything from Johnny Cash to Janis Joplin. With my Dad and his friend Harold on their guitars, Bella and Jules kicking in with some wicked harmonica riffs and everyone singing and having a good time - it was truly one of the highlights of my stay.
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My mom and aunt took the girls for a walk on the beach today and found bushes just dripping with wild currents (which Julianna calls ‘curtains’). The girls ate their fill and begged to go back for more. We went down again the next day and Julianna must have eaten hundreds of berries. I finally had to tell her that the birds needed us to leave them some for lunch in order to get her to leave. I think she would have remained all day, picking berries and happily munching away.
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We’ve walked on the beach just about every day we’ve been here, and I still don’t think to bring swimsuits when I know the tide will be in. They just go in with their clothes on anyway, and then strip off later! My kiddo’s have done lots of skinny dipping this summer, and you know what - we’ve always got the beach to ourselves, so it does not even matter. I’ve got the cutest naked butt pic that I’d love to share, but unfortunately there are too many freaks on the internet:(
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Tonight is our last night here, I am ready to go home, but my heart is heavy and sad. I took the girls over to my grandmothers for a bath and they wanted to go down to the beach one last time. We ran into my mother and aunt down there and all sat down to watch what has to be the most spectacular sunset I have ever seen. There was not a cloud in the sky, and Blomidon was completely outlined in dark-edged silhouette. The sun was a giant, pulsing orb of the most vibrant pink-orange colour, standing in sharp relief against the clear white sky. We all watched as it sank, ever so slowly and smoothly, below the horizon. It was utterly flawless and filled me with peace.
Yesterday my cousin Scott married his partner Maxime in the same country church where Sam and I exchanged our vows eight years ago. The church, with it’s weathered white paint, deep red carpet and dark stained pews, has hosted the weddings of my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles and most of my extended family. This wedding was a little more high profile than mine - given Scott’s political status (no former Prime Ministers on my guest list, I’m afraid) and the fact that - oh yea - he married another man.
Scott is a damn fun guy to be around, always the life of the party. He can’t sing worth a damn, but insists upon doing so at every available opportunity (usually Johnny Cash). He’s got a dry humor that can keep a crowd laughing (or groaning) in spite of themselves (check him out on the Rick Mercer Show**) and I’ve never heard anyone massacre the French language quite like him. He is passionate about his political beliefs, his feels strongly about the environment and like most members of my family, is damn effective at arguing his side of whatever debate he finds himself in.
I remember him as a shirtless, gangly teenager, mowing my grandparents lawn in the summer, or making my cousin Jennifer and I laugh (I thought he was just old enough to be cool, without being so old as to be considered a boring adult). He couldn’t be at our wedding, but he gave us free use of his fabulous house on the shore for the entire weekend. I remember just how proud my grandfather was of Scott and his accomplishments, and how he predicted that he would go far.
I am so happy for Scott that I don’t think I really have words to express it. I’m amused by the news coverage, because honestly, in a perfect world this would not be news at all. I’m proud that my country is one of only five in the world that has recognized legally and politically that EVERYONE has a right to enjoy the benefits of marriage. As a Canadian living in George Bush’s America it’s sometimes hard to remain optimistic about the world my daughters will grow up in. This gives me hope (although reading some of the comments below those articles reminds me that bigotry, hatred and small-mindedness can be found everywhere).
Congratulations Scott and Maxime, may your marriage be blessed with much joy
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** I couldn’t get the Rick Mercer link working - will add it when I can get it to work.
