5 Minute Friday – Gift

“Its time for the gypsy mama’s 5 minute Friday. (http://thegypsymama.com/2012/03/five-minute-friday-gift/

Write for 5 minutes flat on the prompt- no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking 2. Link back here and invite others to join in.  Meet & encourage someone who linked up before you.

OK, are you ready? Give us your best five minutes on:

Gift…

::There are all kinds of gifts:  The gift of sight, the gift of speech, dancing, painting, selling, the gift of gab….. well you get the idea.  I am not thinking of a specific gift but generally wrapping it up under one – it is talent and for the life of me since I cannot figure out why one person has a certain talent and another doesn’t then I figure it must be a gift.

I wonder if luck is a gift?  Some people seem to be and others do not.  Although I have heard that if you work hard enough you will be lucky.

There are gifts that come in packages and there are people who regift which I think is a wonderful thing.  No one wants to be stuck with a gift they don’t like but everyone likes ‘the thought’ behind a gift.

The act of giving is also wonderful and yes everyone knows it is better to give than receive but I bet any 5 year old can argue that one pretty good.  I mean there is satisfaction in giving but also in receiving ..only because I know it makes the giver feel so good.  Of course.

I do wonder how I can access some of the other gifts.  The talent ones.  Just imagine….oops times up!

Souldipper, Regina and No Fear

Amy at http://souldipper.wordpress.com/2012/03/28/occupy-blogosphere-thursday-march-29-2012/#comment-8507 has a brilliant post today including an amazing use of egg shells that I would never have thought of.

She also talked about Regina Dugan and her TED talk on:

“What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?”

asks Regina Dugan.

Amy of course had a brilliant answer as will most of you and it was not until I was completing my comment to her that I realized Regina’s question was for me, unsettling.  When I first saw the presentation my heart thrilled to the potential of it all and then the strangest feeling settled over me.

Yup.  That feeling was fear.  It scares me to think I could do something, achieve something, without fear.  Yes Regina, the very thought is freeing.  Or it should be.  If I let go of my fear?

I’m thinking that before I can leap to fearlessness I am going to require some guidance on getting there.  Does anyone else understand the fear of fearlessness or am I just not grasping the whole idea?  Am I afraid of being fearless?  The answer has to be ‘yes’.

Logically I understand that those who excel have set aside any fear preventing success. Would I like to overcome fear.  I sure would.  It just all seems a little too scary.

Any and all advice is sincerely welcome.  There must be a way around this road block.

I can see overcoming fear of some tangible thing or at least trying to overcome it but my fears in some things are actually a security.  Or perhaps an excuse.

Oil Changes and Assumptions

It’s nice to have time to sit quietly.  Where does one get this kind of time in the early morning?  Why at a Canadian Tire waiting for an oil change.  It’s quite lovely really sitting in an empty waiting room listening to the fellow at the front desk click away sporadically at his keyboard or field a call of enquiry on what services they provide and the resultant cost.

There has been a hint of summer approaching and babble that we would just skip spring altogether this year.  Ah then nature asserts his or her (why do we think of nature as a her?)  well..nature and we are reminded not to assume…anything..ever.  It makes me wonder how almanacs can be written with frequent accuracy or near accuracy so far into the future.  In the midst of our premature summer and early suntans we had one day and night of cold.  Cold enough to turn the beautiful pink magnolia blossoms brown and limp just hours before they were ready to burst in glory.   Three hardy little daffodils that surfaced earlier remain buttering an otherwise blah garden bed. We are so easily spoiled and then disappointed, forgetting there are basic reliable rules, one of those being, do not plant anything before May 24th.  Of course the way the weather is going it could be winter by then.  No, just kidding!  But not assuming anything.

And now the forecast is for 3-5 mm of snow tomorrow.  It may be a teaser but if not we will just wait it out.  Good thing I got my tan in the first to weeks of March!

Ah The Adventure of Weather

A couple of days ago I stepped out to greet a new day and watched as a few snowflakes did a wild dance above my head.  I am pretty sure I heard them calling out, “We want to dance to the ground and make a winter wonderland.”  But mighty winds roared forcing the small flakes higher into the sky and growled, “This is our day to play, so leave us!  The snowflakes left, forced away, and the winds played.  They played mightily for a long time and like naughty, screaming, out of control children, left a swath of destruction in many places.  Not even close enough to the upheaval their American cousins, the tornados left in many states that week, just enough to remind us that mother nature Rules the fate of many a poor creature on this little blue marble.

Yesterday I woke to snow.  Lots of it, falling in such  a thick blanket I could barely see across the street.  It lasted one hour and departed leaving an invitation to come play.  In the next hour while G2 and I got ready to accept the invitation that not so lazy old sun came out and took it all away and in fact brought the temperature all the way to a lovely spring day of 15 (C) or 59 (F).  Okay, thought I, spring play it is!

Well an hour later old man winter gathered enough strength to battle the spring prone sun to lay another blanket of the fluffly white stuff.  “Snow angels,” yelled G2, “Lets make snow angels!”

Ah but this time of year the forces of nature support a more springly appearance and once again the sun bore down with warmth and summoned the winds to carry away the old man and his mantle of winter.

It was quite a display of changing seasons again and again all within a few hours between breakfast and lunch.

This morning I went out to greet the day and its sun.  It is minus 7 (C) or 19 (F) and all seems calm but since tomorrow is supposed to be 13 (C) or 55 (F)  I expect there will be another battle and this time I think Spring will hold the line.  In fact this very morning I am pretty sure I saw the first robin.  Her orange breast looked pretty puffed up so I quickly did the traditional lick of my right folded underfist and slammed it into my left palm while making a wish.  I kept wondering after if it really was to soon for the harbinger of spring and hope I have not wasted a perfectly good spit and wish on a masquerading dove!

Kirk Cameron has a right to voice his opinion

Recently Kirk Cameron was asked his opinion by that ass Piers Morgan who was seeking to attain better sensationalism ratings by knowingly bringing up controversial topics. Kirk gave his known opinion and as a result is suffering outrageous response reaction.
The opinion..yours, mine, his, does not matter. What does matter is his right to express that opinion, which by the way he was not forcing on us.
He spoke true to his beliefs but it seems free speech is only acceptable when the words are acceptable to the very groups who initially had to fight for the right.

Asses.

Top 10 Fascinating Eggs

Reblogged from Listverse:

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Bacteria and other tiny cells merely divide in two to reproduce, but more complex creatures need more complex means of reproduction. Animals use eggs in one form or other; however, most are not very similar to the familiar breakfast food many of us enjoy. Animal eggs are as different and varied in their structure as the animals who made them.

Read more… 1,414 more words

A little fun Friday Facts

Hairy Start

HAIR

I woke up to the song ‘Hair’ this morning (Feb. 29, 2012) famously from the musical of the same name and was immediately transported to the Royal Alexandra Theatre in Toronto in December 1969.  I can actually feel the ermine, the butterflies and the tingles plus a bit of a blush.  What, you don’t remember any of that from the show?  Well, let me explain.

In 1969 I was a tiny wee slip of a girl who although a bride of a few months remained pretty virginal in several ways of the world.  Hair has been called The American Tribal Love-Rock Musical written by James Rado and Gerome Ragni and music by Galt MacDermot.  It was quite revolutionary at the time with its clear anti-war, pro-drug, complete integration and freedom of sex message.

Now the ermine was a coat I wore.  My then sister-in-law Lynne had inherited an ermine coat from an aunt.  The aunt was quite short and for her was knee length but on us fit perfectly in the miniskirt fashion of the day.  We dressed up for the Royal Alex (in those days everyone did) and I encouraged her to wear the coat but she could not as her husband forbade her to wear it for fear someone they knew would see her and think they had more money than he let on to the public.  (I never noticed it in him but I guess he was one of those, ‘I’m so poor’ people.  To what end I am not sure) however……  so I wore the treasure and sat watching the show as I stroked the sleeves and thought..hmmm I was meant to wear ermine.

While many of the critics embraced the revolutionary play it was protested by church groups in Indiana where the issue was not the depravity of the message but the nude scene and city authorities suggested the cast wear body stockings.  Many theatres were closed rather than present the musical.  It was given some dignity by the presence of power.  Princess Anne who was eighteen at the time was seen dancing on stage and in Washington Henry Kissinger attended.

Hair has been quoted as being responsible for the end of censorship worldwide.  Much has been written on its social, cultural and legal impact but on that evening it was just two young ladies stepping out in high fashion to enjoy great music and shocking story and scenes.  This was the very first live production for me and of course I purchased the LP (long playing record for those who…uh never mind), and I am sure that to this very day I can sing most of the lyrics.

So when ‘Hair’ rocked me from the sleepy saddle of slumber this morning, for a few moments there, time travel did exist.

She asks me why, I’m just a hairy guy
I’m hairy noon and night, hair that’s a fright
I’m hairy high and low, don’t ask me why, don’t know
It’s not for lack of bread, like the Greatful Dead, darlin’

Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there, hair, shoulder length or longer
Here baby, there, momma, everywhere, daddy, daddy

Hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow, my hair

Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees
Give a home to the fleas, in my hair
A home for fleas, a hive for the buzzing bees
A nest for birds, there ain’t no words
For the beauty, splendor, the wonder of my hair

Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow, my hair

I want long, straight, curly, fuzzy, snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty
[ From: http://www.elyrics.net/read/h/hair-lyrics/hair-lyrics.html]
Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen
Knotted, polka dotted, twisted, beaded, braided
Powered, flowered and confettied
Bangled, tangled, spangled and spahettied

Oh say, can you see my eyes if you can
Then my hair’s too short
Down with here, down to there
Down till there, down to where it’s stuck by itself

They’ll be ga-ga at the go-go, when they see me in my toga
My toga made of blond, brilliantined, biblical hair
My hair like Jesus wore it, Hallelujah I adore it
Hallelujah Mary loved her son, why don’t my mother love me?

Hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow
My hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow
My hair, flow it, show it
Long as God can grow
My hair

(Thanks to Wikipedia.org)

Imperfect Memories

If you knew you only had a few days or a few months to live, what would you do with that time?  This thought has been on my mind lately and I can’t figure out if it is something to seriously consider or if it is an excuse to not do other things that wait for my attention.  But by devoting time for this one can only hope that one thing will lead to another and I do like to multitask so…

I am a few months short of my sixty-fifth birthday and realize that just having outlived my parents I am not sure of my own longevity.  It’s hard to beat your genes.  Who would I like to read this story?  Certainly my children and the rest of my family but there is a danger in sharing with my brothers and sisters as I have discovered each of us has a different memory of a past event which just goes to prove the old idea of the truth being completely subjective and perhaps nonexistent in its purest form.  I know I have posted on this blog memories of events and my brother and sister have pointed out a different or corrected version (very kindly of course).  This is probably a good thing as they are younger than I so perhaps their minds are a little fresher.

Distant memory in particular is colored by what we think happened and our ensuing experiences and emotions.  And of course we choose to believe or remember a specific thing or occurrence according to our own mind.  One of my brothers believes my grandparents did not own their home because he remembers seeing a box with rent receipts after they died.  He may have forgotten that at least one offspring and family lived in that house with them continually for many years and yes they all paid rent.  That included my parents, two aunts and several others for shorter periods of time.  So he, my brother, would swear on a stack of bibles that they never owned that house even though the family sold it after Grandpa’s death.  Fortunately my one living paternal aunt can verify this and explains that she was fourteen when she had to quit school to stay home and look after her younger brother and sister so my grandmother could get a job to make money to buy the house which they purchased when my dad was overseas.

This is one of the reasons I tend to avoid reading famous people’s autobiographies – just too subjective.  So if you are reading this little story and share memories of the past with me, please understand this is my recollection and while I will strive to be accurate it just can’t be more than my own mind and heart will let it be.

My dad joined the army when he was seventeen, and yes he was underage, but it was 1941 and the Second World War was raging so a lot of youngsters were allowed to enlist as age wasn’t questioned much.  We have a couple of letters  that he sent home when he was posted overseas and one letter from his younger brother who I think was only fourteen at the time.  I will dig them out and scan them for the record and will tell you more about that at a later time.

I think now and then about the sort of things I want my children to know about such as old wood stoves that baked pies and cakes and wonderful homemade stews and soups, old dial black telephones and numbers that began with words or initials.  Our phone number was Sherwood 2—2 and the Sherwood was dialed as SH so the number in fact was 742—-2.  (Naturally I have the exact number in the family version but it would not be a good idea to publish it in the event someone else now has that number).  Everyone in those days was on a party line, so if you wanted to make a call you first picked up the receiver to be sure the line was clear.  Mind you at any time a neighbor could pick up their phone and listen in and if they were skilled at making the click very quiet you would never know.  I suppose if you were of the paraniod persuasion clicks were heard when no one was there.  People did not use the phone unless it was necessary.  There was no idle chatter.  There was also no such thing as cordless, caller ID, or speaker.  Oh, and no such thing as colors.  It was black and very heavy as I remember.

The one below is exactly like ours and everyone else’s for that matter.

 

There were no phone jacks that lines plugged into so if the cord was snapped from the wall you had to call the phone company to come in and repair it.  Now I must qualify the not using the phone unless it was necessary part.  I do recall vaguely the odd Saturday when our parents were out making prank calls that generally went, “Hello, is your refrigerator running? Well you better run after it!”  We just dialed numbers randomly and have no idea who we contacted and they sure could not trace us.

It is my intention not to reveal any family skeletons as such; at least I think I will not, as many of those old bones are not mine to share.  Neither will I necessarily whitewash things but the memories are pretty happy nostalgic ones.  I guess we will just have to wait and see as layers of the dusty past are removed.  I have also decided that I will not try to stay on a chronological path as memories seem to pop up in a rather irregular fashion and that is how they will be recorded.  I’ve tried the chronological thing in the last couple of years and it drives me bonkers.

My folks were married in Scotland and she being a war bride followed him here to Kitchener Ontario a few months after his return.  I have spoken with my aunt who is my mom’s younger sister and the last of that family of siblings and my aunt who is the last remaining member of my dad’s siblings and have asked as many questions as I could about their youth and what they remember.  As both are well into their eighties the memories are very subjective but amazingly detailed.  Besides what are memories if they have to be objective?  The full flavor of life is in the personal bias of it all.  That’s where the fun comes in!

Well now that I have that all straightened out I shall ponder a little more and then get down to some real work.  I won’t share every record of history with you but when the little oddities such as telephones pop up I will keep you in mind.

 

Vaya Con Dios

Just a few days ago I was nestled down in sun and sand to enjoy a week of Cayo Largo.

This small island to the south of Cuba is only 28 km long and 3-4 km wide and hosts all natural beaches and warm Caribbean surf.  A thousand years ago the island was inhabited by a nomadic tribe, the Guayabo Blanco, who lived on wild root vegetables and fruits, as well as fishing and hunting.  Christopher Columbus visited the island on his second trip to Cuba.  Hmm now that is something he and I have in common as this was my second trip.  who knew?  Chris Columbus, Chris King….sort of has a nice ring doesn’t it?

The island was also a popular destination of pirates and privateers and included John Hawkins, Sir Francis Drake (although he was not a Sir at the time), and Henry Morgan who apparently buried all his treasure somewhere in the key in 1666.

The island is inhabited by many large and small birds including parakeets and parrots and gulls cranes and pelicans, none of which I came across.  However there was one not so wee critter I crossed paths with that quite took me by surprise because of his camouflage which blended him right into the rocks I decided to lean against.  He didn’t seem to mind and stirred not a muscle but you can be sure I did and quickly.

The iguana is indigenous to the island and come in all sizes.  This fellow from nose to tail tip was about 3 feet.

Palm trees, palapas and warm Caribbean waters are all kept in as natural state as possible.  There are no permanent residents of this Cayo (Island).  The staff reside in temporary quarters for 20 days at a stretch and then are flown or boated home for a 10 day leave.  All employees work very long hours during their work term being on site in the wee hours of the morning and present til the late evening hours.  They do get a mid afternoon break but their time on the island is work and sleep.  There is an international airport on the island and it was quite pleasant to have only a ten minute commute from the airport to the hotel.

This is not a wild ‘let’s party hardy’ island and travel agents make it quite clear that if you are looking for night life and lots of varied activity you should look at another place.  There are some local trips to the marina and catamaran tours, swimming with the dolphins and turtles and huge starfish, but by and large the destination is designed for peace and quiet, something that meets my requirements.  It is interesting that the age groups ranged from small children to young adults to the uh more mature set.

When I travel I love those little airports where you embark and disembark from the ground itself.  Somehow it feels so adventurous.

Our destination on the island was Playa Blanco meaning white beach and it was the whitest sand I think I have encountered to date.

The Cuban people are amazing hosts and they consistently provide a safe hospitable environment.  Vacationers cannot purchase their currency prior to arriving in the country.  The CUC is a tourist peso which currently reflects the US dollar I think.  For one hundred dollars Canadian I got almost ninety-four pesos which isn’t too bad a deal.

It was a delightful week and it was with fond memories that I bade the island adios and Vaya Con Dios until next time.

Sun and Sand

Sun and Sand beckons

I can see it on the rise

Far from wintery winds and snow

Palms and surf will meet my eyes.

Cayo Largo beckons

And hither I flee

But I will think of you

Till I return to thee.

And it is Margaritas in each hand!

Adios Amigos see you in a week!