Ironing and other things

My Father’s line: “When I got married, I promised I would give her the best of everything. I bought her a glass wash board”.  That was one of his favourite lines. As far as I could tell, it was a popular joke as everyone would burst into laughter. I didn’t get it for a long, long time.*

I hated ironing because that’s what my Mother would say, but I was always fascinated that she was so meticulous, almost artistic, when she ironed every seam and corner. Fabrics were horrible back then. She would hang her clothes on the lines out the back door, summer and winter. She always made us laugh when she stood Elmer’s long johns in the corner when they came in on a freezing day and we would watch as they sank to the floor slowly but surely. Then the laundry would hang all over the kitchen and on a rack over the grate that was pumping hot air into the house from some unknown source. It smelled delicious.  She would sprinkle the dry clothes and roll them up in a basket until it became their turn to be ironed. The iron was heavy and she would work away at the little smocked dresses and puffy sleeves until they were perfect. I loved to watch her. She would say that she hated ironing, but I learned that she must love us so much to work so hard.

Of course I grew up saying “I hate ironing” too. Fabrics became more washable & wearable in the 70’s & 80’s, so I didn’t have to iron too much, and lived one piece at a time or not at all. There was always a basket or two of  laundry to be folded and ironed…someday.

I learned the secret of ironing in 1997 just a few days before my Grand daughter was born. I unpacked a few precious clothes that I had packed away left over from her Mom & her Aunt. (my daughters). I washed them in Ivory Snow and then I stood over the ironing board and meticulously ironed all the little dresses, the corners the frills and puffy sleeves. I didn’t need to sprinkle them, my tears flowed down my face. I don’t cry very often and I made up for it that day. I was crying because I was happy, excited, nostalgic, and lonely. I discovered that I could love ironing, but mostly that it was an act of love.

*Some wash boards were made of tin. The better ones were glass.

Getting there, and back

We visited  Miramichi, NB and attended a family wedding. Everything was beautiful. The bride and groom had made their arrangements with lots of help from the wedding party (bridesmaids, matron etc.) and their loving families, so if there were any glitches, we certainly didn’t notice. The temperature was 100F, or close, which is an unusual occurrence in that neck of the woods, but weddings are such a joyful occasion that we hardly noticed all the wedding programs used as fans in the church.

I enjoy new technology: When we entered the church an attendant led us to a photographer who asked if we would like a photo for the Guest Book.  Why not? I was so surprised when we got to the reception there was a guest book for us to sign, right under our photo and an extra print to take as a souvenir. Nice touch.

The decorations and flowers were exquisite, as was the food, the harpist, the MC and the speeches and video clips of the bride & groom as youngsters. It was all flawless and we had a great time.

Getting there, was a 12 hour drive which we did over 2 days. The evening we arrived, we went for a boat cruise on the Miramichi River. It was two hours + and gave us a nice view of the area.

On the way home, near St. Quentin, we “kissed” a moose. Thanks to skillful maneuvering and a measure of good luck, we avoided a head on hit. As it was, we clipped the hoof. It went down and then recovered and ran to the woods. At a second glance we saw the baby moose waiting by the roadside, ready to cross.  We stopped in St. Quentin, just 2 miles away to celebrate our good luck, and check the small damage to the bumper, at an ice cream stand. There is nothing like “cookie dough” flavoured ice cream to calm ones nerves.  It was our only incident. We found the highways were in good shape for once, and for the most part drivers were courteous and obeying the law which makes it a pleasent drive for all.

We over-nighted at the Quality Inn,  Riviere Du Loup, both ways, and it was very nice, with a big heated pool and lots of nice restaurants in the town (city?). We liked this pretty spot and could spend some time there… someday.

We learned a few things about travelling at our age now. (Besides avoiding Provincial Parks). One week at a time is enough these days, and we need to stay in one place, to ensure restful sleep. Moving from one hotel to another and schlepping our suitcases up hills and down dales (stairs) is not on our agenda anymore.

Cruises are looking better and better…Stay tuned!

SUNSET ON THE MIRAMICHI RIVIER

Getting there…

“Getting there is half the fun”. I agree. I guess that I have a wander lust, because I feel like a kid when I get out the suitcases and start making my lists. I pack and repack to be sure that I don’t fall into that much-criticized category “taking everything but the kitchen sink”. We have a truck, so it’s hard to keep it simple with all that space that can be filled up.

Nevermind. We are leaving for the Maritimes and a family wedding. It’ll be short and sweet. Our grand daughter has decided to come so there’s an added plus to this trip. She is very entertaining and will inspire us to do things…swim, site-see, and dance. (and watch a DVD while travelling) (?)

 Kids add another dimension to everything around us, I forget that sometimes. Thankfully I can be reminded.

Au Revoir

 

 

 

 

Walking Backwards

I recently read an article that touted the advantages of walking backwards. Apparently calorie burning is doubled. I haven’t tried it because sometimes I stumble walking frontwards and my body wasn’t designed to go backwards since my feet point frontwards, and my neck doesn’t swivel all that well. I thought it was an interesting prospect, however, so I just kept it in mind and wondered what other lesson I could learn from “backwards walking”.  

Last week, my daughter returned to her old school to take a computer course offered there, one afternoon a week. The school has changed in 20+ years, but I noticed that she walked the halls without thinking and found her way, easily, in what seemed to be a maze to me. It proved to me once again how our brains are imprinted. Thoughts, experiences, smells, and paths are all there, crystal clear when called upon.

Therefore, I concluded that going backwards can be a healthy thing. For some.

I revisited my youth by writing this blog. Many of the places I lived are gone, or too far away, but I found other ways to connect with the past. I told about my parents, my family, my life and somethings that I found interesting, hoping that some others would take the voyage with me. I hope so. In writing about my past, I was able to put my entire life in perspective. I saw the paths I had taken clearly, and understood the set of circumstances that led me one way or another. Not to say they were right, in fact some were pitifully misguided, but I just naturally wrote about the good times.  I could have written about the bad times too,  but as I wrote, they all lost their significance. Like a bad dream. I actually thought that I never learned a thing from my success’s, but learned everything I knew from my failures. Guess what?  That is only partly true. My failures taught me what not to do. My happiness taught me what to do.

Writing this blog has been an exercise in walking backwards. Along the way, I lost plenty of baggage (calories), and my head (mind) swivelled 360 degrees. Try it.

A Few of My Favourite Things

I heard this song the other day. Neither the song or the movie it headlined would make my list but it made me think about it. (The list that is.) Favourite things come and go, so I plan to add to this list as I recall, and I would appreciate some help in this department.

White shirts

White sheets

White paint

Lilacs

Christmas

Boxes &  jars

Shoes

Alfred Sung perfume

Yellow diamonds

Summer

Pecan pie

H2O Steamer

“Gone With The Wind”

Spray starch

Eraser pads

“In The Still Of The Night”

Candle light

Pink  pearls

Wild flowers

Gin & Tonic

Black

MIKI  from the Sunshine Coast, BC adds:

The smell of freshly mown grass

Full moon

Starry nights

Diamonds, any colour  (ya!)

Thanks, I’m inspired. I  added more:

Merlot or any wine

Babies feet, Babies breath, Babies anything.

Cherry blossoms, Apple blossoms

Rock & Roll music

Ron James (Canadian Comedian)

Fire flies

Fresh laundry

Greeting cards

Children’s choir

A Caleche ride in Old Montreal

A kind heart

Readers: Please  Send More! AND CLICK ON THE COMMENTS BELOW!

An Experienced Pet Lover

My husband says  “If it weren’t for…

• The chewing
• The piddling
• The walking
• The scooping
• The barking
• The snarling
• The training
• The feeding
• The Vet bills
• The grooming
• The brushing
• The shedding
• The drooling
• The dog sitting
• The chasing
• The fleas
• …he would get another dog”.

About “Mining Towns in Canada” Site

littlepatti 1963

 

 

It’s hard to stay “on topic”. My previous entry was called “Fat Sucks”. How much farther off topic can I possibly get? Just watch me!

I considered writing under a different banner, but I just couldn’t abandon the Mining Towns in Canada site. It would have seemed like I was adding to the toll of old abandoned mines. There are already enough of those.

What I am, what I think, what I write is all the “product” of  living in mining towns in Canada.

For those readers (11,000+ so far) who love to read about the towns: Go to May 2007 and read forward. Leave your comments. I love that!

littlepatti

Fat Sucks

I’ve been on a diet since 1958. I’ve been slim and I’ve been fat. Slim wins.

I’ve tried every diet known, they all work, for awhile and then I’m not sure what happens=My body screams “enough is enough”! No matter what anybody says, it comes down to deprivation. We are not a society accustomed to that, so we don’t take to it kindly. No matter how many times I start an exercise plan, I eventually fail. Despite the fact that I feel better and I sleep better. I keep learning that same lesson over and over again. (some lessons i.e: don’t touch the stove. I only needed to learn “the once”.)  Why is that?  If anyone knows, please tell me.

To simplify all this, I need to say, my body is just, plain, diet resistant. I can almost hear the fat cells yelling out ”here she goes again, shut down, shut down”. “Dive, dive, dive!”

So here I am, this time around. Maybe I’ve found the key, but probably not.

I have been counting both calories and carbohydrates. I allow under 1100 calories  and 130 or less carbs daily. I eat a little more on the weekends. AND I KEEP A MEAL DIARY!! I don’t eat potatoes, bread, cereal,  rice, pasta or fruit more than once a week. I just can’t afford the carbs. Of course there’s no place for dessert either or I have a sliver of something, but that makes me long for more. I don’t like milk, so that’s not a problem, but I have a yogourt/berry snack a few times a week. I feel healthy. I have ultra strong bones, take a few supplements (I swear on Omega 3-6-9) and have enough fat to survive a famine.

I think I’ve lost about 10 pounds in 2 months, but I stay off the scale, it’s my nemessis. I measure. I’ve lost about 7 inches total.

This diet is quite restrictive, but because I am eating low carb, my appetite, which is controlled by my blood sugar/glucose, is under control. I’m trying not to think about food. When it’s mealtime, I just put something together, making sure that I have lots of vegetables for a stir fry or a salad. I only plan a meal about 2-3 times a week, just enough to take something out of the freezer and to have leftovers. With my luck, my family will lose weight. They don’t need to.

I put the elliptical machine in the living room where I have decided it has to become part of the furniture. Not that snazzy, but it’s my reality,  because if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind. I do about 3 km 5x a week and trying hard to do a session in the afternoon or evening, but the spirit hasn’t moved me…yet. I have been doing a few light weights also. I can’t bring myself to do any floor exercises and probably never will. (It’s too hard getting up and down).

So there! This feels just like confession. Now, I’ll go and do my penance. Maybe, I’ll post again on this subject, and maybe not. Feel free to comment.

littlepatti

A Job Summary

Some people are well educated, trained for a profession, apprentice in a trade, called to a vocation.

I was none of the above.

At first, I didn’t have a career, I just had a job. Actually, I had many jobs, too numerous to mention. I didn’t stay long enough to get a gold watch, or build a decent pension plan. I tried to choose a job that was challenging, but after a couple of years I had to move on.  In those days, I never worried about being unemployed, I guess I was ever searching… Jobs were plentiful, I was industrious and I managed to earn above average. Between jobs, I would have a few days off, a week at the most, to rest a bit and go to job interviews, and then decide on the most suitable offer.   Ah, those good old days, we had to pay the rent and eat, and the only way to do that was to work.

Over the years I was given a few aptitude tests at personnel agencies (remember those?) and I was always told that I should be in sales. THAT HORRIFIED ME!   I thought that the only people in sales, were people who were lazy or couldn’t do anything else. (Sorry).

As my luck would have it, I was offered a job in sales the year I turned 40. My bosses offered me 25M a year and asked me to try to sell 125M. I said I had no idea if I could do that, and they said “we think you can”! About a week later, I made my first sale for $32.00 (!) and as I was driving home, I wondered “how in the hell can I sell 125 thousand dollars?” That memory was forever etched crystal-clear, swathed in fear.  Equally etched were those three little words:  “we think you can”. That year I sold $135M. The sweetest moment was  the day my sales reached 126M.

I loved sales! I was finally learning a trade with many facets, it was like a kaleidoscope, all the pieces coming together to form a pleasing sight. I had the good fortune of working with patient, knowledgeable, people.  I worked in a blue collar industry, sold to white collar industries and thrived.   It was the printing industry. It was very precise, difficult, competitive work. I never suffered a boring moment. The process of seeing an idea turned out on a thumb nail sketch, become a graphic composition, photography, text, film, paper,  ink and finally a printed article like a brochure, book or magazine delivered to the market was always remarkable to me and 99% of the time, a source of pride.   So who’s perfect?

All this just to describe the last 20 years of my career-life so that I could say:

Last week, I went to a Company reunion. I saw many of the people I had worked with for that final 20 years.  We hugged each other, howled with laughter, shed a few tears, and I went home feeling like the luckiest girl in the world! Imagine that!

Life is not that complicated. Find something you love to do, and love doing it!

TEN THOUSAND !

This week I welcomed my 10,000th reader to my blog.

I could not have imagined that there were so many readers out there. That’s more than the population of the town I live in now, and all those mining towns I described.

The Top 4:

• Snow Lake, Manitoba @ 650 readers

• Quebec Copper, Eastman Quebec  @ 540 readers

• Air Planes and Mining Towns @ 360 readers

• Eastman, Quebec “The Haunted House” @ 250

Thank you for reading and leaving comments.

I thought that I was just a voice in the wilderness…literally!

Best regards to all,

Pat