February 25, 1925

•February 28, 2009 • Leave a Comment

On Wednesday my dad would have been 84 years old. My dad died when he was 56 years old from a heart attack. I was 15 and a half. That was a long time ago. Nearly 28 years ago. Almost twice as long as I actually knew him!

My dad was born into a very poor Jewish family in New York city. He was born at home and the doctor used forceps to pull him out. My grandmother blamed this fact for my father’s terrible temper. Actually my dad was a “Good Guy.” He had lots of friends, some of them really close. He was generous, always helped people (even when they didn’t want it!) and was never proud enough to deny the suffering he had seen during World War II. He was never romantic about the war. He thought it was a horrible horrible thing and did everything he could to make sure my brother never joined the Military. Actually, he had the soul of an artist, stuck behind a desk as a tax accountant. He wrote poetry, acted, sang, painted, drew, did wood work, invented cool things, even made a matching mosaic coffee table and  curtains for our living room all before we were born. And he sat all day in a dingy, dark state office five days a week for 27 years. And on the weekends he sat in a basement office and ran my mother’s father’s insurance business. I don’t think the forceps were what made him angry. 

I don’t have a lot of positive memories of him. He sought (like any good father of the 1960’s and 70’s) to control his children with force. I also don’t think he realized how my mother’s emotional absence affected his children. We were needy and fearful and he wanted us to be independent and self sufficient. He seemed to me to be always battling with everything. I don’t think he was always like that, but I never really knew him as a person. 

I rarely miss my father. But I do sometimes wonder how things might have been different for me if he hadn’t died so young. Or if he wasn’t always so angry. I wonder what kind of grandfather he might have been. What him and my mom might have done with these last 28 years. There’s a lot of wondering there sometimes. 

Happy Birthday Dad!! I hope your next life was a more joyous one for you.



•February 11, 2009 • Leave a Comment

I hate Janufeb. Seriously. Even though C’s birthday is on the 6th of Feb., I still hate this time of year. I should say I hate  Novdecjanufebmarapril. Since the weather really does suck from Halloween till May. So happy we have managed to escape from Byron. Not happy it wasn’t to some place warm. Phase two of the escape plan is going to have to be starting an internet business. I have a good idea, but S vetoed it. I think because he found it boring.

It was warm today, but everything is dirty and muddy and overcast, so I didn’t go out anywhere. R wasn’t interested in taking a walk, so I stayed in and cleaned. And put books away. And took things into the basement. And did lots of dishes. And made Valentines with the kids. And cooked. And read books and watched Little Bear and the Wiggles AGAIN. 

And you know who is awake, again. So, i have to cut my complaining short.

love hate relationship

•January 16, 2009 • Leave a Comment

Okay, so I love and hate mostly everything about our new house and living here. Interesting.

My new kitchen is beautiful. I love the granite countertops. But I am really fearful of staining or scratching them. I love my new wood (!!) cupboards. But I hate the deep pantry where I can’t see anything once it goes into the dark recesses beyond the front row. A new fridge is great, but the freezer is on the top and I hate crawling on the floor to get into the crisper drawers.  I really did love my bottom freezer fridge (which I sold yesterday). I do really love my new dishwasher. It’s big and holds tons and washes really well. But there seems to be no place for my corelle rice bowls (which we use all the time), and I can’t turn it off to prevent the baby from starting it. Yesterday it was full of clean dishes and she started it and by the time I figured it out and cancelled the cycle, all the dishes were wet. And there isn’t anyway to just run the dry cycle.

I am going a bit nutsy trying to figure out how to fit everything into this kitchen in a funtional way. If it’s not funtional, what’s the point? It’s useless.

I love the size of the house. It’s cheaper to heat and light, less to clean and forces S to get rid of a lot of his crap collections. But it’s frustrating to not have places to put certain things.

I love where the house is located. I went to a “late season farmer’s market” last night for goodness sake! But just when I make a decision to lose 30 pounds, I see that there are nearly 10 interesting and yummy looking places to eat within walking distance of the house!

I love that there is someone right across the street who is an AP mama and a localvore like me, but worry about her judging me. I drive up with the my huge Ford Explorer and carry in my Walmart bags and wonder if she is tsking her tongue at me in disapproval. In the country I was free to be as crazy I wanted and no one was there to see me or judge me.

I was thinking about last time we moved… it was almost January and it snowed for 2 weeks straight and we didn’t go anywhere (R was 5 months old) for a long time. Stuck in the house, looking out the window at all the white white white as far as you could see.  Now it’s winter again and we are having an “Alberta Clipper.” Temps are in the single digits and here we are stuck in the house again!! All kinds of places to walk to and it’s so cold I can feel my nose hairs freezing when I go outside to get the mail. History repeats itself. Heh.

Apparently everything in my life is an apparent contradiction. Why does this not surprise me?

The city isn’t so bad….

•December 30, 2008 • Leave a Comment

So, here we are, almost New Year’s Day and still living with my mom. The first house we were supposed to buy I decided I hated and didn’t want to live in. So when the inspection showed it needed loads of work just to move in, I just said “cancel the contract” and that’s what happened. I never pushed to have anything else happen and so it didn’t. Then we found another house and we were so stupid to sign a contract with someone who was drunk at the showing and making wild promises and didn’t have anywhere to go after the sale. It was foolish of us to do and we paid for ur stupidity. He refused to close when he promised and refused to close before Xmas and refused to even set a closing date. So this time S. said “cancel the contract!” and so we did. And it was a good thing, because the house was really half-assed and had a tiny yard. It did have a huge man-cave in the attic, but i am happier with S having an office downstairs than hidden away in the attic. So, the new house we settled on is on Hickory street. Which makes me happy. And the yard is nice and big for the city and while it’s not huge, it’s functional and everything is brand new since it’s a flip. We will likely close next week.

In the meantime we have been living with my mom in the city. Of course, S forgot to lock his car and all his work tools were stolen the second week we were here. I hope this was a wake up call for him. Other than that, the city isn’t so bad after all. My mom’s street is quiet, and the neighbors are mostly older and keep to themselves. And I love how close I am to everything. That I can make 5 stops in 2 hours; WITH the kids! And most important , I have been taking R swimming and it’s so good for his SPD. He’s so different when we swim. I think I’ll take him everyday after we move. The water was off for a few hours this morning, but, that’s not so bad after a whole summer and fall of drought at the house last year.

moving on

•November 12, 2008 • Leave a Comment

So, in less than 2 weeks we’ll become urbanities rather than rural dwellers. It’s a move that’s 4 years overdue. I’ve never fit in here. Being who I am, someone who has rarely fit in anywhere I have been, being out here has been something akin to slow drowning. I guess no matter where you are you have to give yourself acceptance rather than look for it outside yourself, but it will be so nice to not be in such a small town, where no one said “welcome!” No one ever asks your name or if they can help, or can my kid play with yours? Everyone is so insulated in their own little bubble, there isn’t room for people who can’t be classified or pigeonholed. I might as well have 2 heads. 

And there’s also that little thing of coming to accept the difference between what you want and what you can have. S. is never going to be a homesteader or even a run a green sustainable home. He’s too cerebral for that kind of physical work. He livs in hsi head and likes to stay there. So unless I want to be a single parent homesteader, I need to look towards urban sustainability on a very small scale after we move. I just can’t fight with him anymore about “what needs to be done.”

Yup, so we’re moving on. In so many ways. 

I leave behind what I thought I wanted, but realized I didn’t. I leave behind the illusions of relationships both past and present. I leave behind the stars, and the woodsmoke and the birds and the land and quiet. I leave behind the place where my son’s placenta is buried, where the tiny baby I lost is buried, where my daughter was born, where my children learned to walk and talk and my son has grown in a boy, not a baby anymore. I leave behind the place I was married, and the place I spent 3 years in depression and all the loneliness and silence and isolation. 

I really do hope we can make a new start. All of us. And I pray having more of what we want will make us all happier and have more joy in our lives.

Hello world!

•September 8, 2008 • 1 Comment

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