Having a Queen fest with youtube. Suddenly Somebody to Love popped into my head, and I just had to hear it again.
I find it painfully ironic that I didn't know who Queen was when Freddie died. In my defence I was 13 at the time. I distinctly remember hearing them announce it on MuchMusic.... Because I had no idea who Queen or Freddie Mercury was, or why it was such a big deal he was gay. I've never understood that particular prejudice.
It was only after Freddie's death, with all the media focus on Queen, that I 'discovered' them, and in turn found Rock N Roll.
Queen changed my life. I'm sure that sounds melodramatic, but it's true; I just can't imagine what my life would be like without them, without rock and roll.
I've always been a music lover, I get it from my mom. Before poetry, I had music. Such a powerful thing, to have someone speak to, speak for your heart and soul. Queen, did that for me, still does (as do many other men and women with guitars and attitude). They... they spoke to me, they soothed, they raged, they prayed, sorrowed, exalted with me.They made my passage from childhood to adult, fuller, easier, they helped make me the woman I am. And I don't think I've done too badly for myself. ;)
Also, while I'm being a sap, I gotta say, I cannot be happier to have the particular prayer of this ^^ song answered. Having somebody to love, I never thought I'd get it. All through my youth, it was my deepest wish, but the one I was most certain I would never have granted. Now, now my life is so much fuller of love, because I can see the love that's always been there in my family, and now my husband and his family. So much love spread around. But gods, I'm a lucky woman to have a man who loves me so very much!
Okay, no more sappy time. Time to knit! I've got lions to make! :D
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mom. Show all posts
Friday, March 30, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Day I Lost My Faith
My hubby sent me a link, that brought me somewhere else - to a blog entry recounting the writer's journey from Catholic to Agnostic: http://goo.gl/iCJLT. It's from 2007, but that doesn't matter, it's still as poignant and thoughtful today.
The article made me think about my own conversion as she puts it. Hers seems... much more thoughtful and torturous than my own. Though, I don't think mine was any easier.
I was 13 when I started thinking about god, and whether or not he was real. I read the bible, hoping it would re-kindle my dwindling faith. I even got baptized in hopes it would help me feel a connection to God. neither worked as I'd hoped. Instead I was left angry and faithless. I spent the year in turmoil before I eventually made my decision.
I read the bible, up to maybe Genesis; it's a whole fucking chapter of who sired who. Watching paint dry is more interesting. But the bits that stuck were before that. The bible straight out says that women were evil, just for being born. As a young woman, this pissed me off to no end. It made my blood boil. I'm evil because Eve opened Adam's eyes to the truth, to the real world?! I didn't see how that was such a bad thing in the first place.
On the whole, the bible is pretty misogynistic, at least that's how my 13 year old brain felt. I haven't picked up a bible since, I don't see any reason to either. I decided then and there, that sunny afternoon, that I wanted no part in any religion that thought me evil or somehow less just because I was a woman. I refused to believe that just because I had a vagina instead of a penis I was less worthy, of less value, less capable, less anything.
I'm pretty sure I was baptized by the time I came to that conclusion and I know the experience weighed heavily on me then, and for years after. You see, I wasn't a 'believer' when I was baptized. I was, instead, confused, scared (who did you turn to when God wasn't there?), and wanting to please my religious mom. My actual baptism was a nightmare. See, I have asthma, so I've never had good lung capacity, and during a baptism - at least at the church I was going to then - the preacher dude held you under the water while he did the ritual, much talking was involved.
They did baptisms in batches, since they had to fill this tank in the floor of the stage with water. Really cold water by the way. And we had to wear white shifts. When my turn came, I gasped as I stepped into the cold ass water. He grabbed my wrists, and pulled them behind me and held them in one big hand. He told me to take a deep breath, then wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck, and dunked me. About half way through his long-winded speech, I need to breath. I tired to pull up, but he pushed me in farther. I squirmed and tried to get away, but his hand was like a vise on my wrists. I should mention, that at 13, I was 5ft 6in tall, and a size 13. I was not child-sized. The water was under 4 ft, so part of my problem was my body was doubled over and confined by the floor, and his body pressed to mine. I was terrified. I thought I was going to die. I needed AIR, and this brute just squeezed my neck harder!
When all was said and done, I didn't die, clearly, and I didn't like Christians one little bit. All I could think, over and over in my head was "he tried to kill me!" For at least ten, maybe fifteen years after this, any time someone touched the back of my neck, I freaked out, like hyperventilating panic attack. You can imagine what a damper this put on any chance I had to make-out with boys/men! It didn't matter that I wasn't in water, that he wanted to kiss me, pull me in to him, not kill me, I couldn't handle it. To this day I don't like it. I tense up. My husband knows, as I've shared this story with him, and doesn't touch the back of my neck. So yeah, the baptism only secured my dislike of Christians and their views on women.
For years I had a hatred of Christianity. Anytime the religion was brought up, an intense feeling of betrayal, hatred, and disdain filled me. I didn't hate the believers, my mom believed, and still does, in God, and I love her more than I can ever articulate. But I think pushing your beliefs on others is just rude. I don't push my atheism at others. That's one of the things I respect most about my mom: she believes in god, she goes to church, she prays, she says grace at meals, she prays for non-believers in her life, just as she does believers, Christ/God/Christianity is part of her life, part of who she is, but she never pushes, she doesn't try to recruit others. I try to emulate her in that.
I realized back then that religion was a safety blanket for dealing with the world, a way to make it less scary. And when I abandoned mine, I was scared. One of my favourite sayings in my teen years was "ignorance is bliss", and I believed that with all my heart. If I'd just stayed ignorant, if I'd just not questioned God, I could believe in him, that he was helping me, that he had a plan, that my life didn't end with my decomposing body. But, I couldn't not question. I'm not the smartest person, but I have heavy doses of skepticism, common sense, and feminist pride.
Ironically, when I was in first year university, I tried on a lark, to pray to Fria, an ancient Germanic goddess who was an early incarnation of the Viking goddess Freya. I was in so much pain carrying my 50+lbs of school books home with a broken backpack. I saw the moon, half full in the 4pm blue sky, I thought of her immediately.
How did I learn of Fria? When I was 14 I read a book that was based on historical fact, about the time the Romans were invading what is now Germany/Austria. Fria was an earth goddess, her tree the oak, her 'planet' the moon. Women here sacred, but they too could be warriors in their culture. Women's menstrual blood was scared, because it signified a woman's ability to make babies, to create life, so they believed. Fria caught in my mind then, and at 19, I still wanted to believe. I don't actually believe she's real, and yet... I prayed to her all through university. I have marked my flesh with her moon where my lifeblood runs close to the skin (inner wrists). I freely give her part of my soul. If she were to command me, I would follow.
That day, with the moon high, facing off the sun, so prominent, I prayed. I prayed for her to take the pain away, to help me get through it, to help me get home without breaking down, overwhelmed with the pain. As I stared at the moon, begging for Fria's mercy, it came. The pain was still there, but somehow, miraculously, it didn't touch me. I could feel it, but it was like I was outside of the pain somehow, like I was looking at it, not truly feeling it. In that moment I believed, or at least I wanted to. My logical mind just can't believe in something there is no proof for. I can't help it. And yet, I made my allegiance to her that day. Whenever I say the moon from that day on, I thought of her. I saw the moon as my symbol for her answer. If I could clearly see the moon, then everything would be all right. If the moon was clouded over, if it kept hiding in the clouds, then everything wouldn't be all right. And you know, it worked for me. It really did. Seeing the moon clear, even in hard times, made me feel like I could concur whatever came at me, that with her at my side, I would be fine. That is the power of faith.
Do I still believe? I'm not entirely sure. Do I still love Fria? Oh yes. Pain is a theme in my life. To be given a reprieve, even for so short a time, for that one act of kindness, she had my heart and soul, and will always have a piece of me.
I guess I just couldn't live without a safety blanket of my own.
The article made me think about my own conversion as she puts it. Hers seems... much more thoughtful and torturous than my own. Though, I don't think mine was any easier.
I was 13 when I started thinking about god, and whether or not he was real. I read the bible, hoping it would re-kindle my dwindling faith. I even got baptized in hopes it would help me feel a connection to God. neither worked as I'd hoped. Instead I was left angry and faithless. I spent the year in turmoil before I eventually made my decision.
I read the bible, up to maybe Genesis; it's a whole fucking chapter of who sired who. Watching paint dry is more interesting. But the bits that stuck were before that. The bible straight out says that women were evil, just for being born. As a young woman, this pissed me off to no end. It made my blood boil. I'm evil because Eve opened Adam's eyes to the truth, to the real world?! I didn't see how that was such a bad thing in the first place.
On the whole, the bible is pretty misogynistic, at least that's how my 13 year old brain felt. I haven't picked up a bible since, I don't see any reason to either. I decided then and there, that sunny afternoon, that I wanted no part in any religion that thought me evil or somehow less just because I was a woman. I refused to believe that just because I had a vagina instead of a penis I was less worthy, of less value, less capable, less anything.
I'm pretty sure I was baptized by the time I came to that conclusion and I know the experience weighed heavily on me then, and for years after. You see, I wasn't a 'believer' when I was baptized. I was, instead, confused, scared (who did you turn to when God wasn't there?), and wanting to please my religious mom. My actual baptism was a nightmare. See, I have asthma, so I've never had good lung capacity, and during a baptism - at least at the church I was going to then - the preacher dude held you under the water while he did the ritual, much talking was involved.
They did baptisms in batches, since they had to fill this tank in the floor of the stage with water. Really cold water by the way. And we had to wear white shifts. When my turn came, I gasped as I stepped into the cold ass water. He grabbed my wrists, and pulled them behind me and held them in one big hand. He told me to take a deep breath, then wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck, and dunked me. About half way through his long-winded speech, I need to breath. I tired to pull up, but he pushed me in farther. I squirmed and tried to get away, but his hand was like a vise on my wrists. I should mention, that at 13, I was 5ft 6in tall, and a size 13. I was not child-sized. The water was under 4 ft, so part of my problem was my body was doubled over and confined by the floor, and his body pressed to mine. I was terrified. I thought I was going to die. I needed AIR, and this brute just squeezed my neck harder!
When all was said and done, I didn't die, clearly, and I didn't like Christians one little bit. All I could think, over and over in my head was "he tried to kill me!" For at least ten, maybe fifteen years after this, any time someone touched the back of my neck, I freaked out, like hyperventilating panic attack. You can imagine what a damper this put on any chance I had to make-out with boys/men! It didn't matter that I wasn't in water, that he wanted to kiss me, pull me in to him, not kill me, I couldn't handle it. To this day I don't like it. I tense up. My husband knows, as I've shared this story with him, and doesn't touch the back of my neck. So yeah, the baptism only secured my dislike of Christians and their views on women.
For years I had a hatred of Christianity. Anytime the religion was brought up, an intense feeling of betrayal, hatred, and disdain filled me. I didn't hate the believers, my mom believed, and still does, in God, and I love her more than I can ever articulate. But I think pushing your beliefs on others is just rude. I don't push my atheism at others. That's one of the things I respect most about my mom: she believes in god, she goes to church, she prays, she says grace at meals, she prays for non-believers in her life, just as she does believers, Christ/God/Christianity is part of her life, part of who she is, but she never pushes, she doesn't try to recruit others. I try to emulate her in that.
I realized back then that religion was a safety blanket for dealing with the world, a way to make it less scary. And when I abandoned mine, I was scared. One of my favourite sayings in my teen years was "ignorance is bliss", and I believed that with all my heart. If I'd just stayed ignorant, if I'd just not questioned God, I could believe in him, that he was helping me, that he had a plan, that my life didn't end with my decomposing body. But, I couldn't not question. I'm not the smartest person, but I have heavy doses of skepticism, common sense, and feminist pride.
Ironically, when I was in first year university, I tried on a lark, to pray to Fria, an ancient Germanic goddess who was an early incarnation of the Viking goddess Freya. I was in so much pain carrying my 50+lbs of school books home with a broken backpack. I saw the moon, half full in the 4pm blue sky, I thought of her immediately.
How did I learn of Fria? When I was 14 I read a book that was based on historical fact, about the time the Romans were invading what is now Germany/Austria. Fria was an earth goddess, her tree the oak, her 'planet' the moon. Women here sacred, but they too could be warriors in their culture. Women's menstrual blood was scared, because it signified a woman's ability to make babies, to create life, so they believed. Fria caught in my mind then, and at 19, I still wanted to believe. I don't actually believe she's real, and yet... I prayed to her all through university. I have marked my flesh with her moon where my lifeblood runs close to the skin (inner wrists). I freely give her part of my soul. If she were to command me, I would follow.
That day, with the moon high, facing off the sun, so prominent, I prayed. I prayed for her to take the pain away, to help me get through it, to help me get home without breaking down, overwhelmed with the pain. As I stared at the moon, begging for Fria's mercy, it came. The pain was still there, but somehow, miraculously, it didn't touch me. I could feel it, but it was like I was outside of the pain somehow, like I was looking at it, not truly feeling it. In that moment I believed, or at least I wanted to. My logical mind just can't believe in something there is no proof for. I can't help it. And yet, I made my allegiance to her that day. Whenever I say the moon from that day on, I thought of her. I saw the moon as my symbol for her answer. If I could clearly see the moon, then everything would be all right. If the moon was clouded over, if it kept hiding in the clouds, then everything wouldn't be all right. And you know, it worked for me. It really did. Seeing the moon clear, even in hard times, made me feel like I could concur whatever came at me, that with her at my side, I would be fine. That is the power of faith.
Do I still believe? I'm not entirely sure. Do I still love Fria? Oh yes. Pain is a theme in my life. To be given a reprieve, even for so short a time, for that one act of kindness, she had my heart and soul, and will always have a piece of me.
I guess I just couldn't live without a safety blanket of my own.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Not As Devoted A Daughter As I Thought?
Last night I had a nightmare, and it's left me wondering just how devoted I am to my mom. I love my mom. I'd give my life for hers. I'd walk through hell for her, and have, emotionally speaking. But would I go into glorious debt, really risk my life? According to my dream, maybe not.
I dreamt last night, that I went to China with some friends on a kind of retreat. And my mom surprised me by signing up and coming too. It was sweet and wonderful, and we had a mostly great week.
On the last day everything was rather chaotic. The ladies were getting manicures and pedicures in shifts (I opted out of the manicure). We were collecting and showing off the things we'd made. We were having having smoothies and light snacks - everyone was going to lunch/dinner together before leaving.
So in the hustle and bustle, I lost track of my mom. I wasn't worried initially. I was talking with one of the girls, and picking out the make-up (from the pile we'd tried the day before) that I wanted to keep - we all got the option to keep the ones we'd used ourselves.
But when I couldn't find her in any of the rooms or out in the garden, and no one had seen her for some time. I got anxious. I asked if it were possible she left on her own, but the organizers said no, that we were all getting in the van together to go to the airport, that if she'd said she wanted to leave, she'd have been told to wait. Only she never approached them. When I told them I couldn't find her, they got worried too. Everyone looked. No one found her.
This huge man, that I guess was security - I'd not actually noticed we'd HAD security until then, went next door to this bar, and laid down suppressing flames before entering. He went in rattled the patrons and came back out saying a crew of gangsters were seen taking her.
There were two options: (1) the gang took her to escalate a turf war that was at a truce between the people(gang?) that were our security, and their gang, in which case she was probably dead, and hanging from the rafters somewhere to show off their kill/taunt the people we were with OR (2) the gang was branching out into kidnapping/ransoming and in that case she'd be alive for now.
I had to make a decision, did I leave her for dead/assume she was dead, or did I send the security crew in, guns blazing, and possibly start a turf war that would get many other innocents killed. The answer was easy, I would risk anything, everything to get my mother back.
This one old woman scoffed at me, and said I was selfish, that it was a fool's errand. I got up in her face and told her my mom was everything to me, she was the person I loved most in the world (I felt guilty saying this, knowing I had a husband at home waiting for me that I loved, just... not as much as my mom). I'd walk through hell for her, and she'd done that for me. That I owed her everything. That I wouldn't be there, I wouldn't be the person I am if it wasn't for her. That I would do anything and everything in my power to get her back back. If that meant starting some kind of turf war, then so be it.
The huge guy with the flame thrower, and some others went to their headquarters, and I tagged along. No one gave me a gun, and I was in the middle of a gun fight, it was totally stupid of me to go in unarmed. We got to the building, got in without being captured, but then their numbers overwhelmed us and we were their prisoners.
The leader was an arrogant ass, just as one might suspect. I had more than my mother captive, and at first I didn't see her. Then he lead me by my elbow, to show my mom wrapped in some kind of green tarp, laying helpless on the low table, her glasses and personal effects taken from her. In my dream she still needed her glasses to see (she had cataract surgery last winter and doesn't need glasses to see anymore), so they'd effectively frightened her to near death by not allowing her to know one inkling of what was going on. I thought my heart would break just from seeing her like that. My mom has never been a powerless person, she's always been so capable, and confident.
The horrible man, whose touch made my skin crawl, said he wanted $300,000 CDN, and all the pictures from the weekend retreat. Over the weekend, mostly the younger of us, did a 'love your body' two day thing where we were naked a lot, we did yoga, body painting, took pictures throughout the whole thing - they would be ours to keep, but it was a way to see our bodies as beautiful, they had a pro come in and set up a studio for us. I guess the leader guy was a creepy perv, or perhaps he wanted to sell those too, I don't know. I was too busy worrying about how in the hell I was going to come up with three hundred grand fast enough, and if I could ever pay it back.
The big guy that was with us, said they'd get the money, told the leader it was not a problem and started making a call - when the gang goons let him - to some lawyer or banker of some kind? The call made is seem like they were pretty familiar with the whole kidnapping ransom thing, and were good about getting the money fast. At the time I was too busy freaking out about the money - only Chris works, I have no money of my own, how in the hell were we ever going to pay off such a large sum?? We'd never own a home, we'd never be out of debt. My stomach was roiling with worry/anxiety/fear/doubt. It occurred to me that some of my aunts and uncles might chip in to help pay the debt, as they'd be just as willing to get mom back, but it wasn't any kind of a guarantee. Most of my family weren't... in a position to help, and those that were... well, I didn't trust they would. Which would mean I'd be ruining my husband's life. I'd be ruining our chances of every having the life we wanted. Could I really do that?
Then I started wondering if they would ever actually let any of us go. We'd seen their faces, we knew who they were. This wasn't some anonymous deal. Perhaps they would make me sign over the money, make sure they get it, and then kill us all.
Apparently my brain did not like where this was going, and decided it wanted to start over.
I went back to the point where I decided to go in after my mom, and this time, I went on my own, loaded for bear with as much ammo and guns as I could carry.
I got in easily, confused the bad guys and shot them down while they were still confused about how I got in. I killed maybe half or more that way. Then they caught on and went after me. There was about 4 or 5 of them, laying down impressive suppressing fire.I managed to hide behind this huge marble stand - they had a museum in the front room of their warehouse - real professional-like, with meaty marble pedestals, great recessed lighting, and glass cases for everything). So I hid, and managed to shoot 3 of the 5 in the legs and one in the hip - their hiding spot initially was no where good as mine. I even managed to get the leader in the knee. Boy was he pissed off. I'd destroyed his knee! But once they got cover they started shooting at metal plates I hadn't noticed before in the ceiling, sending bullets at me from the side not protected by the marble. I hunkered down, and used some kind of wall divider that had been near me as cover, putting it over my head, so at least they couldn't see where I was under it.
Somehow this skinny blond bitch, pretending she was an angel (her look was too innocent, it made my teeth hurt), snuck up on me while I was trying not to die from ricocheted shots. Maybe she was hypnotic, because suddenly my gun was out of ammo, and I was surrounded. I played it cool. I knew showing fear, or panicking would get me no where and just make me look weak.
They captured me, but didn't frisk me. Stupid. I still had my gun. And I had ammo at my back, under my jacket, I just needed to loose my empty clip and refill without them noticing. I set them at ease, perhaps cause I'm such a sweet looking white girl? And managed to dump my empty clip in a closet and put in a full clip without them seeing. Only, they saw me do something, and checked finding the empty clip. Everyone suddenly pointed their guns at me, looking worried. I had after all killed over half of them without getting even a scratch.
They wanted to know where my gun was. I showed them my hands. They asked about my pockets. Very slowly I started showing them my empty pockets on my left side, knowing full well my loaded gun was in my right main pocket. My brain was working fast, trying to figure out how I was going to shoot all four of them, that surrounded me in a half circle without getting dread myself.
And this is when I woke up. I gasped, like I was coming out water from some depth. Immediately I felt shame for doubting, for not being sure I'd take on the debt to save my mom. After the adamant, heartfelt speech I'd made to that woman, when it came down to it, I.. I wasn't sure I'd actually do what I said. I just.. I don't know. The dream is making me doubt. But I don't get my whole brain in dreams, I miss things that become obvious once I'm awake, I don't have the same... decision making capabilities. But if I was alone, without Chris to back me up, and was asked to come up with $300,000... I just.. I don't have that kind of money. I don't know if I could even get a loan! and if I could.. how on earth would I ever pay it back? *Sigh*
But on the flip side, could I watch her die? Could I stand back and see the tears flow, as she didn't know what was going on at all. Could I watch her suffer? No. No, that I could not do.
I dreamt last night, that I went to China with some friends on a kind of retreat. And my mom surprised me by signing up and coming too. It was sweet and wonderful, and we had a mostly great week.
On the last day everything was rather chaotic. The ladies were getting manicures and pedicures in shifts (I opted out of the manicure). We were collecting and showing off the things we'd made. We were having having smoothies and light snacks - everyone was going to lunch/dinner together before leaving.
So in the hustle and bustle, I lost track of my mom. I wasn't worried initially. I was talking with one of the girls, and picking out the make-up (from the pile we'd tried the day before) that I wanted to keep - we all got the option to keep the ones we'd used ourselves.
But when I couldn't find her in any of the rooms or out in the garden, and no one had seen her for some time. I got anxious. I asked if it were possible she left on her own, but the organizers said no, that we were all getting in the van together to go to the airport, that if she'd said she wanted to leave, she'd have been told to wait. Only she never approached them. When I told them I couldn't find her, they got worried too. Everyone looked. No one found her.
This huge man, that I guess was security - I'd not actually noticed we'd HAD security until then, went next door to this bar, and laid down suppressing flames before entering. He went in rattled the patrons and came back out saying a crew of gangsters were seen taking her.
There were two options: (1) the gang took her to escalate a turf war that was at a truce between the people(gang?) that were our security, and their gang, in which case she was probably dead, and hanging from the rafters somewhere to show off their kill/taunt the people we were with OR (2) the gang was branching out into kidnapping/ransoming and in that case she'd be alive for now.
I had to make a decision, did I leave her for dead/assume she was dead, or did I send the security crew in, guns blazing, and possibly start a turf war that would get many other innocents killed. The answer was easy, I would risk anything, everything to get my mother back.
This one old woman scoffed at me, and said I was selfish, that it was a fool's errand. I got up in her face and told her my mom was everything to me, she was the person I loved most in the world (I felt guilty saying this, knowing I had a husband at home waiting for me that I loved, just... not as much as my mom). I'd walk through hell for her, and she'd done that for me. That I owed her everything. That I wouldn't be there, I wouldn't be the person I am if it wasn't for her. That I would do anything and everything in my power to get her back back. If that meant starting some kind of turf war, then so be it.
The huge guy with the flame thrower, and some others went to their headquarters, and I tagged along. No one gave me a gun, and I was in the middle of a gun fight, it was totally stupid of me to go in unarmed. We got to the building, got in without being captured, but then their numbers overwhelmed us and we were their prisoners.
The leader was an arrogant ass, just as one might suspect. I had more than my mother captive, and at first I didn't see her. Then he lead me by my elbow, to show my mom wrapped in some kind of green tarp, laying helpless on the low table, her glasses and personal effects taken from her. In my dream she still needed her glasses to see (she had cataract surgery last winter and doesn't need glasses to see anymore), so they'd effectively frightened her to near death by not allowing her to know one inkling of what was going on. I thought my heart would break just from seeing her like that. My mom has never been a powerless person, she's always been so capable, and confident.
The horrible man, whose touch made my skin crawl, said he wanted $300,000 CDN, and all the pictures from the weekend retreat. Over the weekend, mostly the younger of us, did a 'love your body' two day thing where we were naked a lot, we did yoga, body painting, took pictures throughout the whole thing - they would be ours to keep, but it was a way to see our bodies as beautiful, they had a pro come in and set up a studio for us. I guess the leader guy was a creepy perv, or perhaps he wanted to sell those too, I don't know. I was too busy worrying about how in the hell I was going to come up with three hundred grand fast enough, and if I could ever pay it back.
The big guy that was with us, said they'd get the money, told the leader it was not a problem and started making a call - when the gang goons let him - to some lawyer or banker of some kind? The call made is seem like they were pretty familiar with the whole kidnapping ransom thing, and were good about getting the money fast. At the time I was too busy freaking out about the money - only Chris works, I have no money of my own, how in the hell were we ever going to pay off such a large sum?? We'd never own a home, we'd never be out of debt. My stomach was roiling with worry/anxiety/fear/doubt. It occurred to me that some of my aunts and uncles might chip in to help pay the debt, as they'd be just as willing to get mom back, but it wasn't any kind of a guarantee. Most of my family weren't... in a position to help, and those that were... well, I didn't trust they would. Which would mean I'd be ruining my husband's life. I'd be ruining our chances of every having the life we wanted. Could I really do that?
Then I started wondering if they would ever actually let any of us go. We'd seen their faces, we knew who they were. This wasn't some anonymous deal. Perhaps they would make me sign over the money, make sure they get it, and then kill us all.
Apparently my brain did not like where this was going, and decided it wanted to start over.
I went back to the point where I decided to go in after my mom, and this time, I went on my own, loaded for bear with as much ammo and guns as I could carry.
I got in easily, confused the bad guys and shot them down while they were still confused about how I got in. I killed maybe half or more that way. Then they caught on and went after me. There was about 4 or 5 of them, laying down impressive suppressing fire.I managed to hide behind this huge marble stand - they had a museum in the front room of their warehouse - real professional-like, with meaty marble pedestals, great recessed lighting, and glass cases for everything). So I hid, and managed to shoot 3 of the 5 in the legs and one in the hip - their hiding spot initially was no where good as mine. I even managed to get the leader in the knee. Boy was he pissed off. I'd destroyed his knee! But once they got cover they started shooting at metal plates I hadn't noticed before in the ceiling, sending bullets at me from the side not protected by the marble. I hunkered down, and used some kind of wall divider that had been near me as cover, putting it over my head, so at least they couldn't see where I was under it.
Somehow this skinny blond bitch, pretending she was an angel (her look was too innocent, it made my teeth hurt), snuck up on me while I was trying not to die from ricocheted shots. Maybe she was hypnotic, because suddenly my gun was out of ammo, and I was surrounded. I played it cool. I knew showing fear, or panicking would get me no where and just make me look weak.
They captured me, but didn't frisk me. Stupid. I still had my gun. And I had ammo at my back, under my jacket, I just needed to loose my empty clip and refill without them noticing. I set them at ease, perhaps cause I'm such a sweet looking white girl? And managed to dump my empty clip in a closet and put in a full clip without them seeing. Only, they saw me do something, and checked finding the empty clip. Everyone suddenly pointed their guns at me, looking worried. I had after all killed over half of them without getting even a scratch.
They wanted to know where my gun was. I showed them my hands. They asked about my pockets. Very slowly I started showing them my empty pockets on my left side, knowing full well my loaded gun was in my right main pocket. My brain was working fast, trying to figure out how I was going to shoot all four of them, that surrounded me in a half circle without getting dread myself.
And this is when I woke up. I gasped, like I was coming out water from some depth. Immediately I felt shame for doubting, for not being sure I'd take on the debt to save my mom. After the adamant, heartfelt speech I'd made to that woman, when it came down to it, I.. I wasn't sure I'd actually do what I said. I just.. I don't know. The dream is making me doubt. But I don't get my whole brain in dreams, I miss things that become obvious once I'm awake, I don't have the same... decision making capabilities. But if I was alone, without Chris to back me up, and was asked to come up with $300,000... I just.. I don't have that kind of money. I don't know if I could even get a loan! and if I could.. how on earth would I ever pay it back? *Sigh*
But on the flip side, could I watch her die? Could I stand back and see the tears flow, as she didn't know what was going on at all. Could I watch her suffer? No. No, that I could not do.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Happy 2012!
So, it's a new year. Christmas, aka, December was a little crazy, but I did my best to keep things within my abilities. I made lots of cookies for my MIL, and even had enough over for my uncle, and visiting with friends.
I survived xmas shopping! Gods, I hate shopping in December, and what with all of November being devoted to NANO, December starts stressful. I think next year I'm going to start either the baking or the shopping at the end of October. Maybe get some halloween candy for stocking stuffers? LOL.
I watched this video via A girl's guide to taking over the world on the Facebook, it was about middle age women in the UK and how they go crazy over xmas because of all the stress and expectations they put on themselves. Part of it was funny, about how husbands tend to just totally sidestep all the crap we as women deal with.
It made me very glad I didn't go in for all that crap. I couldn't imagine worrying about Christmas for six months of the year!! o.0 I happen to love Christmas - for me it's all about spending time with my loved ones, and of course the cookies!
I really do hate baking with Splenda, BUT I also really love my husband and being able to bake for his mom. She appreciates it - I think it's one of the few times she doesn't have to worry about eating baked goods. But for me, it's about the man I love, and how much he appreciates it. I'd make 100 (actually that's close!) cookies every year to hear that hitch in his voice! aww! Yeah yeah.
Anyway. December. Christmas. It was lovely! We had the in-laws over a few days before Christmas, I cooked a turkey with all the fixings - which turned out fabulous!! We had a nice visit, and exchanged gifts. Then on xmas eve, we went to my parents to spend the night. That's really the gift my husband gives me, he lets me have Christmas with my parents. I'm SUCH a mamma's girl. I just... As long as they are living, I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to be there with them Christmas morning. It just... It wouldn't feel right to do anything else. They're my family, and like I said, that's what Christmas is all about for me.
Chris was off until today, so we had lots of time just relaxing, playing mario party on his new computer via a gamecube emulator, and watching the Doctor Who I got him. There was also lots of TV and knitting for me, and video games for him. A good time was had by all!
Today I cut the fabric for the lining I'm making for his coat - to replace the lining that's well, totally worn out. It took over two hours! o.0 I only cut out 4 pieces, effectively, but it still took forever. Part of the trouble is I don't have a dedicated table, so I took my time making sure everything was as flat and smooth as I could get it. Then cut carefully. Having your fabric well cut is 50% of the work of sewing, and if it's a simple sew, like what I'm doing, it's more like 70% of your effort, so well done!
Now that I've babbled sufficiently, I'm going to make the confession, that prompted this post: I am a huge Pink fan. Huge.
About, oh, ten years ago, when I was dabbling in pop music (again), I fell for her, and then sort of just went to boys and guitars exclusively for years. The other day, I'm not even sure how, in my browsing about Youtube, re-discovered her. Man, she rocks! I so want her, like, last three albums! She's got a great voice, and an even more amazing attitude. I loathe to say it, because usually only douches say it, but, she's fun! She can be serious, and she has the smokey voice to go with it, but, gods help me, she's fun, and I love her for it.
And this video/song has me wanting to sing at the top of my lungs!
I survived xmas shopping! Gods, I hate shopping in December, and what with all of November being devoted to NANO, December starts stressful. I think next year I'm going to start either the baking or the shopping at the end of October. Maybe get some halloween candy for stocking stuffers? LOL.
I watched this video via A girl's guide to taking over the world on the Facebook, it was about middle age women in the UK and how they go crazy over xmas because of all the stress and expectations they put on themselves. Part of it was funny, about how husbands tend to just totally sidestep all the crap we as women deal with.
It made me very glad I didn't go in for all that crap. I couldn't imagine worrying about Christmas for six months of the year!! o.0 I happen to love Christmas - for me it's all about spending time with my loved ones, and of course the cookies!
I really do hate baking with Splenda, BUT I also really love my husband and being able to bake for his mom. She appreciates it - I think it's one of the few times she doesn't have to worry about eating baked goods. But for me, it's about the man I love, and how much he appreciates it. I'd make 100 (actually that's close!) cookies every year to hear that hitch in his voice! aww! Yeah yeah.
Anyway. December. Christmas. It was lovely! We had the in-laws over a few days before Christmas, I cooked a turkey with all the fixings - which turned out fabulous!! We had a nice visit, and exchanged gifts. Then on xmas eve, we went to my parents to spend the night. That's really the gift my husband gives me, he lets me have Christmas with my parents. I'm SUCH a mamma's girl. I just... As long as they are living, I'm pretty sure I'm going to want to be there with them Christmas morning. It just... It wouldn't feel right to do anything else. They're my family, and like I said, that's what Christmas is all about for me.
Chris was off until today, so we had lots of time just relaxing, playing mario party on his new computer via a gamecube emulator, and watching the Doctor Who I got him. There was also lots of TV and knitting for me, and video games for him. A good time was had by all!
Today I cut the fabric for the lining I'm making for his coat - to replace the lining that's well, totally worn out. It took over two hours! o.0 I only cut out 4 pieces, effectively, but it still took forever. Part of the trouble is I don't have a dedicated table, so I took my time making sure everything was as flat and smooth as I could get it. Then cut carefully. Having your fabric well cut is 50% of the work of sewing, and if it's a simple sew, like what I'm doing, it's more like 70% of your effort, so well done!
Now that I've babbled sufficiently, I'm going to make the confession, that prompted this post: I am a huge Pink fan. Huge.
About, oh, ten years ago, when I was dabbling in pop music (again), I fell for her, and then sort of just went to boys and guitars exclusively for years. The other day, I'm not even sure how, in my browsing about Youtube, re-discovered her. Man, she rocks! I so want her, like, last three albums! She's got a great voice, and an even more amazing attitude. I loathe to say it, because usually only douches say it, but, she's fun! She can be serious, and she has the smokey voice to go with it, but, gods help me, she's fun, and I love her for it.
And this video/song has me wanting to sing at the top of my lungs!
Monday, December 5, 2011
Today is a Better Day
Its been a long time coming, but today is a better day.
I slept in, 'cause I needed it. I had rice krispies and bananas for brunch. I talked to my mom for a long time. She let me vent, bless her. And we talked about how she's doing too! It was a good talk. I felt a lot better about things when I got off the phone with her.
I made carrot muffins and curry lentil soup. This took more effort and time than I thought, but so worth it. And I did oh, three sink/racks of dishes. Baking takes a lot of dishes! And cleaning up directly after makes the clean up so much easier. Batter dried to a bowl is a bitch!
I even showered! No really, this is a victory. I thought I'd be too spent, but I managed easily. I just took breaks. And didn't push. Well, I mean, making the muffins and soup was a push on it's own. I felt exhausted when I started. But I needed to do something useful. I feel better when I'm useful.
I always remember when I'm out of the hole, that there is an out, that the darkness isn't all consuming. That I will find hope again. It's just so damn hard to believe that when depression has you in it's claws. I feel like I need to leave my future self a note, to remind me, that no matter how dark it gets, it will get better, it will be light again, and I will see that I am lucky, I'm loved and supported by the ones I love; it could be so much worse. I'm not alone.
Depression is a battle. Living, surviving chronic pain is a battle. Fibromyalgia is a battle. I get overwhelmed, who wouldn't? But I'm fighting. And I'll continue to fight. Even when I don't want to fight anymore, when I'm done, I can't stop fighting, cause it's not just me in this. I've always said I'd walk through hell for my mom, and now, for my husband, for them, I walk through hell. It's for them that I keep fighting, even when I think I'm not. I'm here, and some days, that's enough, that is a victory. Because tomorrow, gods help me, tomorrow is a new day.
The sun will come out tomorrow!
Sorry, couldn't help myself. But you know, it's true. You just have to survive the night, because Ra, Ra will always come.
I'm sore. I ache, but it's not all over. I won back bits of myself. I'm tired, but somehow less tired than I felt on getting up. But best of all, I accomplished something. I beat this bout of depression, and I made yummy foods. Today, I win.
I slept in, 'cause I needed it. I had rice krispies and bananas for brunch. I talked to my mom for a long time. She let me vent, bless her. And we talked about how she's doing too! It was a good talk. I felt a lot better about things when I got off the phone with her.
I made carrot muffins and curry lentil soup. This took more effort and time than I thought, but so worth it. And I did oh, three sink/racks of dishes. Baking takes a lot of dishes! And cleaning up directly after makes the clean up so much easier. Batter dried to a bowl is a bitch!
I even showered! No really, this is a victory. I thought I'd be too spent, but I managed easily. I just took breaks. And didn't push. Well, I mean, making the muffins and soup was a push on it's own. I felt exhausted when I started. But I needed to do something useful. I feel better when I'm useful.
I always remember when I'm out of the hole, that there is an out, that the darkness isn't all consuming. That I will find hope again. It's just so damn hard to believe that when depression has you in it's claws. I feel like I need to leave my future self a note, to remind me, that no matter how dark it gets, it will get better, it will be light again, and I will see that I am lucky, I'm loved and supported by the ones I love; it could be so much worse. I'm not alone.
Depression is a battle. Living, surviving chronic pain is a battle. Fibromyalgia is a battle. I get overwhelmed, who wouldn't? But I'm fighting. And I'll continue to fight. Even when I don't want to fight anymore, when I'm done, I can't stop fighting, cause it's not just me in this. I've always said I'd walk through hell for my mom, and now, for my husband, for them, I walk through hell. It's for them that I keep fighting, even when I think I'm not. I'm here, and some days, that's enough, that is a victory. Because tomorrow, gods help me, tomorrow is a new day.
The sun will come out tomorrow!
Sorry, couldn't help myself. But you know, it's true. You just have to survive the night, because Ra, Ra will always come.
I'm sore. I ache, but it's not all over. I won back bits of myself. I'm tired, but somehow less tired than I felt on getting up. But best of all, I accomplished something. I beat this bout of depression, and I made yummy foods. Today, I win.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
I did it
Did what, you (my fictitious audience) ask? I finally went to the gym. It's been forever. No literally. Like since before the wedding. For the most part, I honestly haven't felt well enough often. And when I DID feel well enough, I used that energy to get groceries, and make soup, or bread or what-have-you.
Today, instead of getting groceries, I went to the gym. I actually managed 30 minutes on the elliptical! For me, that's EPIC. Hell, I didn't think I was going to make it to the first five, never mind thirty. Yay me! And the gym wasn't scary or busy or anything (why I think the gym is scary I do not know, likely anxiety disorder). Everyone there is really nice, which always makes me feel more guilty for not going more often. Does that even make sense? Who knows.
Now I'm exhausted, and really need a nap. I've been up since 5:15am. I laid awake until 6am, then just got up. So it's already been a long day for me. Yesterday felt unbearably long. I have a feeling today and tomorrow will too.
I'm rather looking forward to Tuesday. It's class day, and then I'm going to go visit my parents. I think I might end up staying a few days. I don't see them enough, and I miss them. It's not like Chris will miss me, one way or the other, so why not. I don't get out much, socially. Hell, I don't really have any friends, and the last time I saw any of my acquaintances was three weeks ago now, when everyone lied and said they'd stop by that Saturday... Anyway, my point is, my parents, my mom especially, are some of the very few people I actually talk to. And I need some socialization in the worst way. One thing that truly sucks though, is I so CANNOT talk to my mom about what's really bothering me. I don't have anyone to talk to, and it's killing me, slowly. I was going to make up some emo analogy, but fuck it, it just hurts, and scares me, and makes me long for something I'll just never have again.
I was thinking of going to the Haikim Optical near-ish my doctor's office (allergy needle time) while I was in town, to see what it might cost me for 1 or 2 pairs of glasses, but the sad/scary truth is we just can't afford them. I feel truly stupid for wasting the money getting my eyes tested. My eyes have been bothering me, headaches reading, trouble with distance vision, so I got my eyes tested, not realizing we were so tight for cash I'd never be able to actually use the Rx. *sigh*
Today, instead of getting groceries, I went to the gym. I actually managed 30 minutes on the elliptical! For me, that's EPIC. Hell, I didn't think I was going to make it to the first five, never mind thirty. Yay me! And the gym wasn't scary or busy or anything (why I think the gym is scary I do not know, likely anxiety disorder). Everyone there is really nice, which always makes me feel more guilty for not going more often. Does that even make sense? Who knows.
Now I'm exhausted, and really need a nap. I've been up since 5:15am. I laid awake until 6am, then just got up. So it's already been a long day for me. Yesterday felt unbearably long. I have a feeling today and tomorrow will too.
I'm rather looking forward to Tuesday. It's class day, and then I'm going to go visit my parents. I think I might end up staying a few days. I don't see them enough, and I miss them. It's not like Chris will miss me, one way or the other, so why not. I don't get out much, socially. Hell, I don't really have any friends, and the last time I saw any of my acquaintances was three weeks ago now, when everyone lied and said they'd stop by that Saturday... Anyway, my point is, my parents, my mom especially, are some of the very few people I actually talk to. And I need some socialization in the worst way. One thing that truly sucks though, is I so CANNOT talk to my mom about what's really bothering me. I don't have anyone to talk to, and it's killing me, slowly. I was going to make up some emo analogy, but fuck it, it just hurts, and scares me, and makes me long for something I'll just never have again.
I was thinking of going to the Haikim Optical near-ish my doctor's office (allergy needle time) while I was in town, to see what it might cost me for 1 or 2 pairs of glasses, but the sad/scary truth is we just can't afford them. I feel truly stupid for wasting the money getting my eyes tested. My eyes have been bothering me, headaches reading, trouble with distance vision, so I got my eyes tested, not realizing we were so tight for cash I'd never be able to actually use the Rx. *sigh*
Friday, May 20, 2011
I Act Like A Baby When Sick With A Cold
So I now have my husband's cold. He's mostly better, and I'm feeling like death warmed over. It started yesterday, with a stuffy nose and sore throat. It continues today, and adds congestion headache, wicked sore jaw, more than normal exhaustion, and general malaise. Bleck.
It's kinda ironic to me. Men, stereotypically, act like babies when they are sick, and women are silent warriors that take care of everyone, no matter how sick they are. Maybe it's because I've always been taken care of by a silent warrior woman, or perhaps because I'm chronically ill, but I just don't take having a cold/being sick well. I act like a baby. I never used to. I mean, when I was younger, and didn't like in pain 24/7, I could handle a simple head cold without it knocking me on my ass and me turning into a baby. These days, anything more than what I handle on a daily basis seems to kick my ass. I think in great part because my daily life means I have no energy or tolerance left for more discomfort and pain.
So this weekend my husband is going to take care of me. Which is good. Left to my own devises there are no clean dishes and I'm considering chips and dip or popcorn for lunch. Anything else requires too much energy to make. That and I'm feeling nauseous. I don't want to have to make anything, honestly. I'm not sure I can even handle eating. Damn post nasal drip. That and my head hurts more than I can put into words. If I didn't know it would hurt so much worse, I'd cry.
It's kinda ironic to me. Men, stereotypically, act like babies when they are sick, and women are silent warriors that take care of everyone, no matter how sick they are. Maybe it's because I've always been taken care of by a silent warrior woman, or perhaps because I'm chronically ill, but I just don't take having a cold/being sick well. I act like a baby. I never used to. I mean, when I was younger, and didn't like in pain 24/7, I could handle a simple head cold without it knocking me on my ass and me turning into a baby. These days, anything more than what I handle on a daily basis seems to kick my ass. I think in great part because my daily life means I have no energy or tolerance left for more discomfort and pain.
So this weekend my husband is going to take care of me. Which is good. Left to my own devises there are no clean dishes and I'm considering chips and dip or popcorn for lunch. Anything else requires too much energy to make. That and I'm feeling nauseous. I don't want to have to make anything, honestly. I'm not sure I can even handle eating. Damn post nasal drip. That and my head hurts more than I can put into words. If I didn't know it would hurt so much worse, I'd cry.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Creative Writing Class
Today is the first day of my creative writing class, and I'm nervous. I'm sure it will be fine, but I just can't help the nerves. It's always the details that worry me, not the action. For instance, the first time I traveled alone I was more worried about my luggage being under weight, and if I was going to have to pick it up at LAX, then to re-check it, because my ticket said I might, than I was about the actual traveling alone. heh.
So today, true to form, I'm more worried about being able to find my classroom, what I need to bring, if I'm going to have to prove who I am, than I am the actual class. I guess I figure the class will take care of itself, it's all the details that keep me nervous. Though I am nervous about meeting my classmates, and what they will be like. I don't actually figure on making friends, I'm not very good at that anyway. *sigh* I just hate having to explain myself to people and being judged for my circumstances in life.
I am looking forward to it. I really do want to improve my writing. It's something I've always loved to do, and since I can't do fuck all else with myself at this point, why not give the pipe dream a shot? My mom's comment of, "so you think you can write do you?" really irks me, but then she didn't really think I could finish university and come out the other side with an engineering degree. It's not so much because she didn't think I was smart, more that she never finished any kind of schooling, and I don't think all of her kids finished high school, never mind doing more, so it's just so out of her scope she couldn't fathom it. It took me awhile not to take it personally. I don't think I really understood until I'd graduated and she'd explained part of it to me. She was so genuinely proud of me then, I knew there was no malice in her words before. So I'm know I need to take this the same way. I mean, she even mentioned a friend of my aunt's has a couple children's books published and how unbelievable it is to think we know someone that's a published author. It also helps that she's never read anything I've written as an adult, so she has no way of knowing if I can or can't write.
Anyway, I'm babbling and stalling, and trying to fill my mind with other things so I won't panic, or let my nerves eat me. Gah. It will be fine. I know it will. I just sincerely hope they don't need me to prove who I am. I don't have any ID with my married name on it. I thought my damn health card would be here by now, but noooo. Bah. I really need to get on changing my name with the bank and such. doh.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Mrs. Hazelton's Cabbage Soup
Ingredients:
Directions:
Makes 24-28 cups.
- 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
- 2 onions, diced
- 3-4 medium carrots, chopped finely
- 4-5 stalks celery, chopped finely
- 0.5kg extra lean ground beef
- 1 small/medium cabbage, chopped to 1/2" pieces
- 2 cups frozen peas
- 2 pouches Lipton Onion Soup Mix
- 3 beef bullion cubes
- 3 cans whole tomatoes, stewed with herbs and spices (we use Our Compliments brand)
- 8 cups water (add more as needed)
- 2-3 cups brown rice
Directions:
- In a large pot, add olive oil, on medium heat. Add onions, carrots, celery as you chop them, stirring often.
- Break up the ground beef into ~1" size pieces as you add it to the pot. Add the onion soup mix and bullion cubes. Stir well.
- Chop cabbage, stiring pot, to ensure even beef browning. Add cabbage as you chop it. Add frozen peas, and stir.
- Open cans of tomatoes, add the juice. Squish the tomatoes with your hands as you add them. Remove any tomato skin you find.
- Add 8 cups of water, stir. Turn heat up to bring to a boil, then turn down to medium heat. Boil for 1-1 11/2 hours.
- Add brown rice, and stir. Add more water, if needed. Cook for another 1 1/2, or until rice is fully cooked and soft.
- Let cool, and put into containers for freezing. When warming up, add more water if you prefer a soupier soup.
Makes 24-28 cups.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Late Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Hope everyone's Christmas was lovely, mine certainly was! I got to spend some time with my parents, before the big day, which made Christmas feel much more whole for me.
I 'helped' my mom make donuts. She does the actual making, and once they are fried, I shook them in the cinnamon and sugar combo to coat them -- that's always been my job since I was little. It is a help though, it means mom doesn't have to stop frying to coat them, cause if you let them cool too much then the sugar just doesn't stick to the donuts.
Last year I had a terrible cold the week before Christmas, so I only saw my parents Christmas eve, and part of Christmas day. I felt cheated. I barely got any rappie pie and not one single donut. When I realised after Christmas that I'd missed out on my mom's donuts completely I literally sobbed my dismay to Chris. He totally didn't get it. But mom only makes donuts at Christmas. And they are fantastic! They're a 'tea time' donut, meant to be eaten the day they are made. The nutmeg in them is what makes them delicious, well that and the cinnamon and sugar coating on the outside. They are kinda like Tim Horton's Old Fashioned Plain donut, only with a coating. Though Timmie's has nothing on my mom's donuts.
So yeah, this year I got my fill of donuts. Or at least I had enough to satisfy my craving. I also got to have lots and lots of rappie pie. So very good! So very filling. So very strange, really, if you aren't used to it. It's basically meat and potatoes. But it's about as close to shepard's pie as Quittach is to soccer. lol.
I really enjoyed Christmas this year. We didn't have to rush, and everyone pitched in to help my mom with dinner. Chris and I helped with some of the set-up, and my aunts helped with the clean-up, which meant my mom didn't have to do everything herself. I haven't actually had a chance to talk to her since, but I'm hoping Christmas didn't leave her as drained as it did last year. She seemed to be holding up pretty well when we left at 5pm, which was well after our Christmas dinner. Though we call it dinner, it's always a late-ish lunch at about 2pm. That way we eat, we sit and talk, and about the time it's getting dark everyone is about ready to go home. Which works out perfectly for my young cousins who were there and my uncle who is in his 80s. And frankly for mom and Pa who are no longer spring chickens themselves, though I think they do far better than many people their age.
Christmas, for me, is all about family, and getting to spend it with my family and my husband was very very happy making. We even got to spend boxing day with our adopted family of Toronto friends, which was totally awesome!
This New Years Eve we are going to party held by our aforementioned Toronto friends. It's a theme party - tarts and vicars! I'm very much looking forward to it. Thanks to Halloween's past Chris already has his costume, mine is more up in the air. I'm sure I'll come up with something sufficiently tarty. If I had more time/energy/money I would totally be tempted to buy an outrageous wig, and some fake press on nails. lol. But I think I'll have to make do with what's already in my closets. I wish I had my tall boots in Toronto, but we had way too much to carry home Christmas day for me to bring them from Hamilton sadly.
And because I just can't not mention it, my mom gave us the most wonderful Christmas gift!! I know it's not supposed to be about gifts, and it's not, really, it's the thought behind it that has me all gushy. After we got married this last October, I confessed to my mom that even though we said no physical gifts, what I really wanted, was for my mom to buy me nice silverware. I have absolutely no luck in picking out silverware. I've bought some before for work, twice even, and both times they so did not work out. They rusted! They tasted of metallic decay! It was awful! My mom on the other hand has lovely taste in silverware. And I still remember when I was quite young, and one of my cousins was getting married. Mom bought him and his new wife silverware and a lovely wooden case for it. From that moment on, in my head, that was thee most perfect wedding gift. Nothing more was said, time went on, Chris and I last week bought ourselves a set of silverware while at Ikea -- we've wanted something better than what we have for some time, but the wedding came first. Since we were there (IKEA) we thought we'd pick something up that looked good. Thankfully we didn't get around to opening it as Christmas morning we found not one, but three sets of beautiful, simple, elegant silverware under the tree from my mom and pa!! Ironically the silverware mom picked looks almost exactly like the set I picked at Ikea that they didn't have any of. They had it on display, but we couldn't find a package of it. Mom said she'd liked another better, but they didn't have enough, so she got this one, remembering I like things plain. She picked perfectly. I love love love them. I know, considering I told her I wanted her to pick them for me only two months before I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was! I really really was. And what a wonderful surprise indeed!
It's a little morbid, but I know I'm not going to have my mom and pa forever. They are getting on in years. And although they may be with me for the next ten years, give or take, I (hopefully) will be around a lot longer... And the idea of having something so lovely, that I will use every day, to remind me of her is just a wonderful thought. So she'll never be 100% gone. I'm a physical person.. having a physical something that says 'mom loves me' around, is worth its weight in gold, as they say.
So yeah, Christmas was great! And I'm hoping NYE will be equally as fun.
I 'helped' my mom make donuts. She does the actual making, and once they are fried, I shook them in the cinnamon and sugar combo to coat them -- that's always been my job since I was little. It is a help though, it means mom doesn't have to stop frying to coat them, cause if you let them cool too much then the sugar just doesn't stick to the donuts.
Last year I had a terrible cold the week before Christmas, so I only saw my parents Christmas eve, and part of Christmas day. I felt cheated. I barely got any rappie pie and not one single donut. When I realised after Christmas that I'd missed out on my mom's donuts completely I literally sobbed my dismay to Chris. He totally didn't get it. But mom only makes donuts at Christmas. And they are fantastic! They're a 'tea time' donut, meant to be eaten the day they are made. The nutmeg in them is what makes them delicious, well that and the cinnamon and sugar coating on the outside. They are kinda like Tim Horton's Old Fashioned Plain donut, only with a coating. Though Timmie's has nothing on my mom's donuts.
So yeah, this year I got my fill of donuts. Or at least I had enough to satisfy my craving. I also got to have lots and lots of rappie pie. So very good! So very filling. So very strange, really, if you aren't used to it. It's basically meat and potatoes. But it's about as close to shepard's pie as Quittach is to soccer. lol.
I really enjoyed Christmas this year. We didn't have to rush, and everyone pitched in to help my mom with dinner. Chris and I helped with some of the set-up, and my aunts helped with the clean-up, which meant my mom didn't have to do everything herself. I haven't actually had a chance to talk to her since, but I'm hoping Christmas didn't leave her as drained as it did last year. She seemed to be holding up pretty well when we left at 5pm, which was well after our Christmas dinner. Though we call it dinner, it's always a late-ish lunch at about 2pm. That way we eat, we sit and talk, and about the time it's getting dark everyone is about ready to go home. Which works out perfectly for my young cousins who were there and my uncle who is in his 80s. And frankly for mom and Pa who are no longer spring chickens themselves, though I think they do far better than many people their age.
Christmas, for me, is all about family, and getting to spend it with my family and my husband was very very happy making. We even got to spend boxing day with our adopted family of Toronto friends, which was totally awesome!
This New Years Eve we are going to party held by our aforementioned Toronto friends. It's a theme party - tarts and vicars! I'm very much looking forward to it. Thanks to Halloween's past Chris already has his costume, mine is more up in the air. I'm sure I'll come up with something sufficiently tarty. If I had more time/energy/money I would totally be tempted to buy an outrageous wig, and some fake press on nails. lol. But I think I'll have to make do with what's already in my closets. I wish I had my tall boots in Toronto, but we had way too much to carry home Christmas day for me to bring them from Hamilton sadly.
And because I just can't not mention it, my mom gave us the most wonderful Christmas gift!! I know it's not supposed to be about gifts, and it's not, really, it's the thought behind it that has me all gushy. After we got married this last October, I confessed to my mom that even though we said no physical gifts, what I really wanted, was for my mom to buy me nice silverware. I have absolutely no luck in picking out silverware. I've bought some before for work, twice even, and both times they so did not work out. They rusted! They tasted of metallic decay! It was awful! My mom on the other hand has lovely taste in silverware. And I still remember when I was quite young, and one of my cousins was getting married. Mom bought him and his new wife silverware and a lovely wooden case for it. From that moment on, in my head, that was thee most perfect wedding gift. Nothing more was said, time went on, Chris and I last week bought ourselves a set of silverware while at Ikea -- we've wanted something better than what we have for some time, but the wedding came first. Since we were there (IKEA) we thought we'd pick something up that looked good. Thankfully we didn't get around to opening it as Christmas morning we found not one, but three sets of beautiful, simple, elegant silverware under the tree from my mom and pa!! Ironically the silverware mom picked looks almost exactly like the set I picked at Ikea that they didn't have any of. They had it on display, but we couldn't find a package of it. Mom said she'd liked another better, but they didn't have enough, so she got this one, remembering I like things plain. She picked perfectly. I love love love them. I know, considering I told her I wanted her to pick them for me only two months before I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was! I really really was. And what a wonderful surprise indeed!
It's a little morbid, but I know I'm not going to have my mom and pa forever. They are getting on in years. And although they may be with me for the next ten years, give or take, I (hopefully) will be around a lot longer... And the idea of having something so lovely, that I will use every day, to remind me of her is just a wonderful thought. So she'll never be 100% gone. I'm a physical person.. having a physical something that says 'mom loves me' around, is worth its weight in gold, as they say.
So yeah, Christmas was great! And I'm hoping NYE will be equally as fun.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Decision!
Okay, so like, I even asked my facebook peeps for help, and no one bothered to have a look. I feel unloved!!
Anyway, I badgered my husband, and he likes the owls one, since I was leaning that way, I'm going with that. :) Maybe I'll be able to at least swatch this week. I have a lot I want to get done, so we will see.
I'm planning to bake for both my parents and Chris' parents for xmas. So that means lots and lots of cookies in my future! Maybe I should have picked up another set of bowls at Canadian Tire when they had them on sale! *sigh* Though, honestly, I can stop at Honest Ed's like tomorrow or today if I have energy(yes I'm totally dreaming).
Today my goals are to get all the ingredients, which will likely take two trips, and to make it to the bank and get my online banking sorted out. And maybe, maybe check out Dollarama for Christmas tins since I only have ones for Chris' parents.
I wasn't planning on making my parents cookies, until I realised just how bad my mom's eyes are and how busy they are this month between mom's eye appointments and Pa's. They both have cateracts. Mom had surgery on one of her eyes last week. It's still blurry, and she's having a lot of trouble seeing well enough to take pictures, never mind making cookies! So I want to help out, take some of the pressure off of her, ya know? So that's my hope. mmhmm.
As a result, need more pretty tins for gifts! Gods, I really hope I don't go crazy making the... oh, hundreds of cookies I have planned. ha. We shall see!
If I don't forget, I'll try to take some pictures of all the cookies I'm making, and link to recipes as well. :) I'm not good at artful pictures though, just fair warning.
Anyway, I badgered my husband, and he likes the owls one, since I was leaning that way, I'm going with that. :) Maybe I'll be able to at least swatch this week. I have a lot I want to get done, so we will see.
I'm planning to bake for both my parents and Chris' parents for xmas. So that means lots and lots of cookies in my future! Maybe I should have picked up another set of bowls at Canadian Tire when they had them on sale! *sigh* Though, honestly, I can stop at Honest Ed's like tomorrow or today if I have energy(yes I'm totally dreaming).
Today my goals are to get all the ingredients, which will likely take two trips, and to make it to the bank and get my online banking sorted out. And maybe, maybe check out Dollarama for Christmas tins since I only have ones for Chris' parents.
I wasn't planning on making my parents cookies, until I realised just how bad my mom's eyes are and how busy they are this month between mom's eye appointments and Pa's. They both have cateracts. Mom had surgery on one of her eyes last week. It's still blurry, and she's having a lot of trouble seeing well enough to take pictures, never mind making cookies! So I want to help out, take some of the pressure off of her, ya know? So that's my hope. mmhmm.
As a result, need more pretty tins for gifts! Gods, I really hope I don't go crazy making the... oh, hundreds of cookies I have planned. ha. We shall see!
If I don't forget, I'll try to take some pictures of all the cookies I'm making, and link to recipes as well. :) I'm not good at artful pictures though, just fair warning.
Monday, October 11, 2010
We're Married!!!!
We're married! We did it! Yaaaaay!
I don't have any pictures to share because I was too busy getting married to take any! ;)
All my planning and preparations paid off. Everything went so very smoothly! Only two tiny things didn't go as planned:
(1) We didn't end up getting my laptop set up so Neda could skype in. We just didn't have the time. Though oddly enough we were running ahead of schedule all morning until about 9am. But then, that's exactly why I have us extra time! On the plus side Sabrina and Brian were able to record the ceremony with their fancy schamzy new camera, so Neda will get to see it!
(2) The boutoneires I made didn't sit quite right. They were too heavy, in part, and as my Pa pointed out (he is soooo smart!) I put the pins too low, it would have worked better with them higher. How he knew that I don't know. I've got such amazing parents, I do!
And that's it really. Everything else went according to plan, or at least worked out just fine, so yay! And really, as far as what could go wrong, such minor things as did, really aren't a big deal at all. Honestly, I'm thrilled everything went so very smoothly!
The catering manager said this was the easiest wedding she'd done, and I was the nicest, least bridezilla bride she's ever had to deal with!! This makes me very happy indeed! Chris joked about me being bridezilla, but honestly, not so much. I was my bitchiest as I was waiting for Chris to do up my dress, and while he was doing it. Mostly because I felt to dang helpless. Doing up my dress, since it's a corset back was something I could most definitely not do myself. Giving up control bothered me, but mostly being so helpless frustrated me. Having to stand around waiting for someone to dress me was the oddest feeling ever! So helpless, so indebted. I like being able to do for myself damnit. lol.
Everyone loved my dress, was impressed with my flowers, even more so when they learned I did them myself! :D Chris was my cheerleader and helper the whole day through. People kept complimenting the wedding, and the things I made, and Chris would pipe up 'She made that too', and everyone would be even more amazed! Heh. I honestly thought people realised I'd made all the things I did, but they always seemed surprised when Chris told them I did it, so yay! Go me! The crafty bride! Judy, our photographer told Chris that I was the craftiest bride she's ever done a wedding for!! How awesome is that?!
One of my oldest friends, Will, who is the other half of Will and Angie (two of my oldest and dearest friends), who has always been kinda like our big brother, and often 'one of the girls', was just totally amazing for us on our wedding day. He took care of the music, helped up coral people, drove us out to the picture location, stayed and waited to take us back to the hotel. Got me food and water when we arrived back at the hotel - I was just so thirsty, and really sad we didn't get to even try our hors d'ourves. I totally didn't ask, he just came out with a little plate and a glass of water! My hero! Chris said then, he really is like an older brother, and he is. I wouldn't feel right without saying how wonderful he was, he really made things so much easier for us. He totally stepped up, like he always does 'cause that's the kind of man he is, and I love him to bits for being such a wonderful man. :)
Now to the events in the order they occurred...
The ceremony was an amazing blur for me. I remember Carole our officiant reading the part about the teapot that I wrote, and smiling at me. That was awesome. She really seemed to get it, which thrilled me.
The pictures went off without a hitch, we got to use the most amazing backdrop of fall colours! A pond, with changing trees behind, oh it was breathtaking! The pictures of just us were fabulous. It felt like we got a lot done, and honestly, it really felt like we had three hours with Judy, not just the one and a bit we did have, so YAY. I really can't wait to see the pictures!!
Dinner was lovely, just... lovely. The tables looked amazing with all my ornamental gourds against the black table clothes. Everyone seemed to like the hors d'ourves I picked! Except for the spring rolls; they were not what I expected either, but that's okay, there was more than enough food! Dinner itself was great. The buffet worked out really well I think. And the fact that we had extra space was awesome - the two and three year old had lots of room to play and run around.
Thanks to Sabrina, everyone signed my guest book. I got smiles and laughs about my octopus comment (the sign I made said if they didn't sign the guest book, the guest book octopus would get them), and the actual knitted octopuses. The four kids, and their parents seemed very pleased that they each got to take one home! So yay!! My cousin Malcolm, ever the sweetheart, asked me which one was my favourite, and that's the one he picked!
Everyone just loved the cake. I received lots of compliments on how good it looked, how professional. Then they ate it, and were blown away by my chocolate cake! YAY! I cut the chocolate, bottom layer first, so a lot of people didn't get to try the coconut, but that's okay. Even Chris' shy cousin asked, in a kind of awed voice, if I'd made that chocolate cake, and if I made it often! I said yes, it's my go-to chocolate cake. He seemed really surprised and impressed! Woohooo!
The flying pigs, though some loved straight off, most didn't get until I explained - I always said I'd get married when pigs fly... David and Alice have to be some of my most favourite people, they loved the piggies straight off, and didn't need an explanation to make them awesome. :D David even mentioned that when I'd written on facebook that I was knitting octopuses for the wedding he'd thought 'this wedding is going to be awesome'! It really well and truly makes me feel just amazing when people actually get my sense of humour and understand my... aesthetic. So woohoo!
Everyone said there goodbyes after cake - it'd been a long day for everyone, I was totally okay with this timing! And by 4:30 we were in a cab and on our way home. We got to have a nice nap, then Chris made me dinner! We had snuggles and TV in bed. The perfect ending to our day - for us.
I don't have any pictures to share because I was too busy getting married to take any! ;)
All my planning and preparations paid off. Everything went so very smoothly! Only two tiny things didn't go as planned:
(1) We didn't end up getting my laptop set up so Neda could skype in. We just didn't have the time. Though oddly enough we were running ahead of schedule all morning until about 9am. But then, that's exactly why I have us extra time! On the plus side Sabrina and Brian were able to record the ceremony with their fancy schamzy new camera, so Neda will get to see it!
(2) The boutoneires I made didn't sit quite right. They were too heavy, in part, and as my Pa pointed out (he is soooo smart!) I put the pins too low, it would have worked better with them higher. How he knew that I don't know. I've got such amazing parents, I do!
And that's it really. Everything else went according to plan, or at least worked out just fine, so yay! And really, as far as what could go wrong, such minor things as did, really aren't a big deal at all. Honestly, I'm thrilled everything went so very smoothly!
The catering manager said this was the easiest wedding she'd done, and I was the nicest, least bridezilla bride she's ever had to deal with!! This makes me very happy indeed! Chris joked about me being bridezilla, but honestly, not so much. I was my bitchiest as I was waiting for Chris to do up my dress, and while he was doing it. Mostly because I felt to dang helpless. Doing up my dress, since it's a corset back was something I could most definitely not do myself. Giving up control bothered me, but mostly being so helpless frustrated me. Having to stand around waiting for someone to dress me was the oddest feeling ever! So helpless, so indebted. I like being able to do for myself damnit. lol.
Everyone loved my dress, was impressed with my flowers, even more so when they learned I did them myself! :D Chris was my cheerleader and helper the whole day through. People kept complimenting the wedding, and the things I made, and Chris would pipe up 'She made that too', and everyone would be even more amazed! Heh. I honestly thought people realised I'd made all the things I did, but they always seemed surprised when Chris told them I did it, so yay! Go me! The crafty bride! Judy, our photographer told Chris that I was the craftiest bride she's ever done a wedding for!! How awesome is that?!
One of my oldest friends, Will, who is the other half of Will and Angie (two of my oldest and dearest friends), who has always been kinda like our big brother, and often 'one of the girls', was just totally amazing for us on our wedding day. He took care of the music, helped up coral people, drove us out to the picture location, stayed and waited to take us back to the hotel. Got me food and water when we arrived back at the hotel - I was just so thirsty, and really sad we didn't get to even try our hors d'ourves. I totally didn't ask, he just came out with a little plate and a glass of water! My hero! Chris said then, he really is like an older brother, and he is. I wouldn't feel right without saying how wonderful he was, he really made things so much easier for us. He totally stepped up, like he always does 'cause that's the kind of man he is, and I love him to bits for being such a wonderful man. :)
Now to the events in the order they occurred...
The ceremony was an amazing blur for me. I remember Carole our officiant reading the part about the teapot that I wrote, and smiling at me. That was awesome. She really seemed to get it, which thrilled me.
The pictures went off without a hitch, we got to use the most amazing backdrop of fall colours! A pond, with changing trees behind, oh it was breathtaking! The pictures of just us were fabulous. It felt like we got a lot done, and honestly, it really felt like we had three hours with Judy, not just the one and a bit we did have, so YAY. I really can't wait to see the pictures!!
Dinner was lovely, just... lovely. The tables looked amazing with all my ornamental gourds against the black table clothes. Everyone seemed to like the hors d'ourves I picked! Except for the spring rolls; they were not what I expected either, but that's okay, there was more than enough food! Dinner itself was great. The buffet worked out really well I think. And the fact that we had extra space was awesome - the two and three year old had lots of room to play and run around.
Thanks to Sabrina, everyone signed my guest book. I got smiles and laughs about my octopus comment (the sign I made said if they didn't sign the guest book, the guest book octopus would get them), and the actual knitted octopuses. The four kids, and their parents seemed very pleased that they each got to take one home! So yay!! My cousin Malcolm, ever the sweetheart, asked me which one was my favourite, and that's the one he picked!
Everyone just loved the cake. I received lots of compliments on how good it looked, how professional. Then they ate it, and were blown away by my chocolate cake! YAY! I cut the chocolate, bottom layer first, so a lot of people didn't get to try the coconut, but that's okay. Even Chris' shy cousin asked, in a kind of awed voice, if I'd made that chocolate cake, and if I made it often! I said yes, it's my go-to chocolate cake. He seemed really surprised and impressed! Woohooo!
The flying pigs, though some loved straight off, most didn't get until I explained - I always said I'd get married when pigs fly... David and Alice have to be some of my most favourite people, they loved the piggies straight off, and didn't need an explanation to make them awesome. :D David even mentioned that when I'd written on facebook that I was knitting octopuses for the wedding he'd thought 'this wedding is going to be awesome'! It really well and truly makes me feel just amazing when people actually get my sense of humour and understand my... aesthetic. So woohoo!
Everyone said there goodbyes after cake - it'd been a long day for everyone, I was totally okay with this timing! And by 4:30 we were in a cab and on our way home. We got to have a nice nap, then Chris made me dinner! We had snuggles and TV in bed. The perfect ending to our day - for us.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Taking His Name...Is FREAKING ME OUT!
Okay, so... When FH first proposed I asked if I could take his name and he said no. I was a little hurt, I let it go, however, a first for me really. Later I asked him why the idea of me taking his name bothered him. He said he was raised not to expect anyone would take his name... I think it freaked him out too because it made it more 'real'. Eventually I got him to agree to it - I said I wanted to, that I wanted us to be one family and that meant one name.
Now I'm the one freaking out. Big time.
I went to get our marriage license yesterday, and it comes with a info sheet about your options for name change. Apparently if I legally change my name in Ontario, because I was born here, they will re-issue my birth certificate with my new name! My old name would be in brackets beside it, but still!! OMG!
My heart is still in my throat, where it's been since reading that.
I feel like that is a step too far! I want to be Mrs. Awesome, but I don't want to erase Ms.WickedCool to do it! Ya know??
*sigh*
Now I don't know what to do.
I... I may not always like who I am, I know I haven't always liked me, but, I'm still me, I still have a vested interest in me. I'm cool with being Mrs.Awesome from this point forward, but I never thought the gov't would go back and change who I was. That's what it feels like for me. I don't know why I'm personalizing it so but I am.
I'm proud of my last name. It's where I came from. My grandparents took me in when my father basically abandoned me. They didn't have to, but they did. My name is tied to them. And I feel like having their name is tied to my loyalty, my gratitude for them being my parents. I don't want to change my freaking birth certificate!
Logically, a name change doesn't change who I am - a rose by any other name, would smell just as sweet. But it freaks me right the hell out! There is connotation in names, and I don't want for one second for my parents to think I don't love them, that I don't love being their daughter, that I'm not proud of them, and all they've accomplished, and grateful for all they've done and continue to do for me.
So what do I do? Bah. I'm the one that convinced my FH that I wanted to take his name. And I still do. I just... Fuck, why does the gov't have to fuck with my BIRTH CERTIFICATE?!
I wonder if I can apply for a name change with another branch of gov't so they will leave my birth certificate the fuck alone. I suppose I could just keep my old one and cut the new one up into little pieces?? I won't give it to them, that much I will refuse.
UPDATE!
Okay! So finding more information, yay useful gov't sites! I'm going to "assume" FH's name. That info sheet did not represent it well!
I can get my health card, driver's license(if I had one!), Passport(!), bank account's, credit cards, all in my "assumed" name by showing them my marriage certificate(when I get it of course). Wee! This is just want I wanted, and I still get to be me, Ms. Hazelton, legally, while also being Mrs. Wood for all intents and purposes! Best solution ever!
Now I'm the one freaking out. Big time.
I went to get our marriage license yesterday, and it comes with a info sheet about your options for name change. Apparently if I legally change my name in Ontario, because I was born here, they will re-issue my birth certificate with my new name! My old name would be in brackets beside it, but still!! OMG!
My heart is still in my throat, where it's been since reading that.
I feel like that is a step too far! I want to be Mrs. Awesome, but I don't want to erase Ms.WickedCool to do it! Ya know??
*sigh*
Now I don't know what to do.
I... I may not always like who I am, I know I haven't always liked me, but, I'm still me, I still have a vested interest in me. I'm cool with being Mrs.Awesome from this point forward, but I never thought the gov't would go back and change who I was. That's what it feels like for me. I don't know why I'm personalizing it so but I am.
I'm proud of my last name. It's where I came from. My grandparents took me in when my father basically abandoned me. They didn't have to, but they did. My name is tied to them. And I feel like having their name is tied to my loyalty, my gratitude for them being my parents. I don't want to change my freaking birth certificate!
Logically, a name change doesn't change who I am - a rose by any other name, would smell just as sweet. But it freaks me right the hell out! There is connotation in names, and I don't want for one second for my parents to think I don't love them, that I don't love being their daughter, that I'm not proud of them, and all they've accomplished, and grateful for all they've done and continue to do for me.
So what do I do? Bah. I'm the one that convinced my FH that I wanted to take his name. And I still do. I just... Fuck, why does the gov't have to fuck with my BIRTH CERTIFICATE?!
I wonder if I can apply for a name change with another branch of gov't so they will leave my birth certificate the fuck alone. I suppose I could just keep my old one and cut the new one up into little pieces?? I won't give it to them, that much I will refuse.
UPDATE!
Okay! So finding more information, yay useful gov't sites! I'm going to "assume" FH's name. That info sheet did not represent it well!
I can get my health card, driver's license(if I had one!), Passport(!), bank account's, credit cards, all in my "assumed" name by showing them my marriage certificate(when I get it of course). Wee! This is just want I wanted, and I still get to be me, Ms. Hazelton, legally, while also being Mrs. Wood for all intents and purposes! Best solution ever!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Worry Update
My Pa is out of the hospital! Yay!! Mom just called to tell me he's home and feeling pretty good. Such a relief! I've been worried. More worried than I wanted to let on I think, even to myself! ha. Grumpy me broke out in a smile when I heard the good news!
And, he's definitely going to be able to drive me to my dress appointment on Monday since he has to take himself to the doctor's then too. Yay! And we know they wouldn't be asking him to drive if they, they being the doctors, didn't think he'd be perfectly fine to do it. Woohoo!
Two pieces of very good news that have taken my worry down a couple notches.
And, he's definitely going to be able to drive me to my dress appointment on Monday since he has to take himself to the doctor's then too. Yay! And we know they wouldn't be asking him to drive if they, they being the doctors, didn't think he'd be perfectly fine to do it. Woohoo!
Two pieces of very good news that have taken my worry down a couple notches.
Stressed out, grumpy woman
My grandpa's in the hospital with pneumonia. He's in a ward now, which makes me wonder if my Mom just didn't want to tell me he was in the ICU and left that out. o.0 He's teasing the nurses, and eating lots, as of yesterday, so I know he's getting better. I'm not too too worried, or I would be at home in Hamilton. Still...worried. Omg.
Also on a selfish note, I have a dress appointment next Monday, and with Pa not well, even if he's home by then, he'll be in no position to drive me, so I have no way out there. I'm going to call my Mom later today, as she's at the hospital visiting Pa right now, as far as I know anyway, to ask if she has any bright ideas on the subject. I'm kinda thinking my uncle Bob might take us, if they aren't on vacation themselves then... as I know they go away for a week in August... *sigh* Or maybe my Dad as he's been taking Mom (Mom being his mom too) places. Very unusual that. I don't know as I've ever known him to be helpful in his whole life. No, seriously, he was never helpful to my parents, his parents, when I was younger. They raised me all on their own, never penny or any other kind of help did they see from him. Do I sound bitter? I am. For their sake. My loyalty is all for them, and I feel like he's taken advantage of their goodness and independence.
Anyway! I have no way out there. It's in Waterdown you see. Like a 25-30 minute drive from my parents. I suppose we could take a cab, I'm just worried about how much that would cost. =/ Maybe I should postpone the dress fitting until I can actually get a ride....though I don't even know when that will be. =/
And how do I get the damn dress home to Toronto? No really. I just thought of that. How do I get it here in good shape, in I can wear this down the isle shape?? Do I take it on the train?? Cause there ain't no where to hang a dress on the bus...there isn't on the train either, but there is at least more room. I could maybe sit it on the seat beside me, kinda hanging over it? I don't drive. My Pa won't drive in Toronto...most of my family would rather not or simply won't, in fact. I don't know of anyone I could ask. And I hate asking to begin with. So what do I do? Do I just get it steamed once I get home??? And who the hell do I trust with my dress??? Gee, can you tell I'm stressing? ha.
I'm also grumpy because I'm frustrated and disappointed that we can't do our engagement photos on the day we'd agreed. Chris came home a few days ago to tell me the day he previously agreed to, and specifically requested, was now during is 'on call' week, and he couldn't do it. We could have picked a day the week before, but nooo, he wanted the 27th. I honestly wonder if it did that knowing full well it would end up his 'on call' week, so he could get out of doing them. He hates having his picture taken. Almost all the pictures I have of him, where he knows I'm taking the picture, are of him scowling at me. Bah. I'm just so damn frustrated.
And now that it's wedding season, and it's in full swing our photographer basically has no time for us. Expect possibly like one day two weeks before our wedding. Bah! Oh well. It's not like I wanted the engagement photos for like... something at the wedding... I just thought.. it'd be nice to have casual pictures of us, and that our parents would appreciate them more than us in our wedding clothes. I know I'd like to have casual pictures of us, even if I am the size of a house...
I want to be all 'whatever, it doesn't matter', but it does matter, damnit. And I was really looking forward to doing them. Now I'm all disappointed and grumpy and really worried they just aren't going to happen. And angry. I'm angry damnit. And I don't want to be angry at Chris, it's not really his fault. But, at the same time it is. He picked the day damnit. She had time the week before, but nooo, he wanted the 27th. He didn't have his on-call schedule for then at the time, so he didn't know for sure if it would be his week, but at the same time, the schedule is like freaking clockwork, and he could have just extrapolated from what he knew and guessed. But he didn't bother to do that. I'm sure it will be fine he said. Well it wasn't fine. It wasn't anywhere close to fine. And he didn't even bother to see if someone would be willing to cover for him so he could take half the day. Nooo. Because he only every takes time for people, he never expects them to return the favour. *Growl*
And if I have it right, there is exactly 4 weeks of no on call time, and then it's his week again, which puts his next week as exactly the week of the wedding. Who wants to bet instead of taking the time off, he gets someone to cover him exactly the time of the wedding and nothing else?? I'd say it's a fair bet. So I'll get to do all the last minute running around, and shit all by myself. I'll then get to spend the week after the wedding, when I hopped we could have some time together, alone. He said he'd take time off, but he hasn't mentioned asking for it off yet... I don't think he has. And when he finds out it's his on call week, he won't take it off. He never does. He always plans everything around that week, like it's fucking sacred.
Maybe I'm being completely unfair because I'm stressed about everything else, and nothing seems to be going my way, so why should this? But at the same time...... He works so damn hard.... He really does treat his 'on call' week like it's a sacred duty and they'd fire him if he ever asked to change it/have someone cover for him for a day even. I don't think he values himself at all. Like he can't ask or something... Which is ridiculous. He's covered for lots of his co-workers, they should bloody well be willing to return the damn favour.
I've been telling him for a year now that he is not working our fucking wedding; that I want him available to help me on the Friday and Saturday, because I don't know what I'm going to need, and me with fibro, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to do it all alone. *Sigh* But I know him. If he's on call that week, he won't help me, he won't take time off, other than the wedding day itself. And I'll be left to do it all myself, or just not have it done.
Here's where I wish I had friends I could count on. But Sabrina works full time and has three kids. She's also totally unwilling to even think of coming to Toronto, so she's no help. And Angie.... well, we weren't ever that close really, and besides, I know she always works weekends. They both blame me for not making an effort to stay in touch - I got the lecture from Sabrina over the weekend. Meanwhile it's been years since Angie actually invited me to her home or called or tried to get together with me. Sabrina always says I should come down to Hamilton and spend time with her, but she's totally unwilling to come to Toronto to see me. She does that vague thing 'we should get together', but that's it. She's works full time; she has three kids; she's busy. I'm not going to assume she can drop everything, but she never tells me when's a good time. And why is the gods damn onus all on me?! Why don't they share any of the responsibility?! It's totally unfair. And it makes me so angry. Why is it all my fault??? It's not damnit.
Anyway, back to my wedding prep help issue... I don't... I have friends in Toronto, but none so close that I invited them to my wedding, and I'd feel like a real ass asking for their help. Hell, even if they were coming, I'd still feel like an ass. I don't feel like I have any business asking them.... We aren't that close. And I'm terrible about asking for help. I hate it. Besides, I know the days before the wedding I'm going to be all stressed out, and not good company, and then asking for them to help me lug things.... No, I couldn't do it.
*sigh* Perhaps I won't need the help. I mean, it's not like I'll have a lot to do. I'm hoping to have everything but the cake and flowers done well before the week of the wedding. The cakes can be baked and frozen over the week before, and I can frost it in pieces on the Friday I think. Then I'll have Saturday to get flowers and make my bouquet and the buttonholes. Since those are the only flowers it shouldn't be too much for just me. I've already asked my semi-pro cake making friend if she'd make our cake toppers. I'm pretty sure I can do the rest myself... or you know, in a pinch I'll leave it plain and it will be fine.... assuming I can find cake pans. fuck my luck. I still don't know where to even find square pans.
Stressing! Everything is stressing me out. It will be fine. I'm sure it will be fine. Even if Chris decided to work the whole week, it will be fine. I didn't want a honeymoon anyway. I kept saying I didn't so if I don't get one, well, that's just what I asked for. And it's my own damn fault if I regret it. As for the engagement pictures....I'm as fat as a house. I hate how I look. I can't look at myself without disgust. This is not a time in my life I particularly want immortalized anyway. So if it doesn't happen, oh well. I honestly don't think I'll miss them.
It doesn't help that I feel tired and sore and bone weary all the time. It's so fucking draining. I don't want to do anything most of the time...except sleep. It's really hard to get the motivation to do anything when you're so damn tired, and riddled with pain. And nauseous. Lets not forget the nausea. I don't know how other people do it. I know others with chronic pain/illness and they are all better woman than I. They all seem to have drive and determination, and they just keep going. I honestly don't know how they do it. I can't. I just can't. I don't have it in me anymore.
Also on a selfish note, I have a dress appointment next Monday, and with Pa not well, even if he's home by then, he'll be in no position to drive me, so I have no way out there. I'm going to call my Mom later today, as she's at the hospital visiting Pa right now, as far as I know anyway, to ask if she has any bright ideas on the subject. I'm kinda thinking my uncle Bob might take us, if they aren't on vacation themselves then... as I know they go away for a week in August... *sigh* Or maybe my Dad as he's been taking Mom (Mom being his mom too) places. Very unusual that. I don't know as I've ever known him to be helpful in his whole life. No, seriously, he was never helpful to my parents, his parents, when I was younger. They raised me all on their own, never penny or any other kind of help did they see from him. Do I sound bitter? I am. For their sake. My loyalty is all for them, and I feel like he's taken advantage of their goodness and independence.
Anyway! I have no way out there. It's in Waterdown you see. Like a 25-30 minute drive from my parents. I suppose we could take a cab, I'm just worried about how much that would cost. =/ Maybe I should postpone the dress fitting until I can actually get a ride....though I don't even know when that will be. =/
And how do I get the damn dress home to Toronto? No really. I just thought of that. How do I get it here in good shape, in I can wear this down the isle shape?? Do I take it on the train?? Cause there ain't no where to hang a dress on the bus...there isn't on the train either, but there is at least more room. I could maybe sit it on the seat beside me, kinda hanging over it? I don't drive. My Pa won't drive in Toronto...most of my family would rather not or simply won't, in fact. I don't know of anyone I could ask. And I hate asking to begin with. So what do I do? Do I just get it steamed once I get home??? And who the hell do I trust with my dress??? Gee, can you tell I'm stressing? ha.
I'm also grumpy because I'm frustrated and disappointed that we can't do our engagement photos on the day we'd agreed. Chris came home a few days ago to tell me the day he previously agreed to, and specifically requested, was now during is 'on call' week, and he couldn't do it. We could have picked a day the week before, but nooo, he wanted the 27th. I honestly wonder if it did that knowing full well it would end up his 'on call' week, so he could get out of doing them. He hates having his picture taken. Almost all the pictures I have of him, where he knows I'm taking the picture, are of him scowling at me. Bah. I'm just so damn frustrated.
And now that it's wedding season, and it's in full swing our photographer basically has no time for us. Expect possibly like one day two weeks before our wedding. Bah! Oh well. It's not like I wanted the engagement photos for like... something at the wedding... I just thought.. it'd be nice to have casual pictures of us, and that our parents would appreciate them more than us in our wedding clothes. I know I'd like to have casual pictures of us, even if I am the size of a house...
I want to be all 'whatever, it doesn't matter', but it does matter, damnit. And I was really looking forward to doing them. Now I'm all disappointed and grumpy and really worried they just aren't going to happen. And angry. I'm angry damnit. And I don't want to be angry at Chris, it's not really his fault. But, at the same time it is. He picked the day damnit. She had time the week before, but nooo, he wanted the 27th. He didn't have his on-call schedule for then at the time, so he didn't know for sure if it would be his week, but at the same time, the schedule is like freaking clockwork, and he could have just extrapolated from what he knew and guessed. But he didn't bother to do that. I'm sure it will be fine he said. Well it wasn't fine. It wasn't anywhere close to fine. And he didn't even bother to see if someone would be willing to cover for him so he could take half the day. Nooo. Because he only every takes time for people, he never expects them to return the favour. *Growl*
And if I have it right, there is exactly 4 weeks of no on call time, and then it's his week again, which puts his next week as exactly the week of the wedding. Who wants to bet instead of taking the time off, he gets someone to cover him exactly the time of the wedding and nothing else?? I'd say it's a fair bet. So I'll get to do all the last minute running around, and shit all by myself. I'll then get to spend the week after the wedding, when I hopped we could have some time together, alone. He said he'd take time off, but he hasn't mentioned asking for it off yet... I don't think he has. And when he finds out it's his on call week, he won't take it off. He never does. He always plans everything around that week, like it's fucking sacred.
Maybe I'm being completely unfair because I'm stressed about everything else, and nothing seems to be going my way, so why should this? But at the same time...... He works so damn hard.... He really does treat his 'on call' week like it's a sacred duty and they'd fire him if he ever asked to change it/have someone cover for him for a day even. I don't think he values himself at all. Like he can't ask or something... Which is ridiculous. He's covered for lots of his co-workers, they should bloody well be willing to return the damn favour.
I've been telling him for a year now that he is not working our fucking wedding; that I want him available to help me on the Friday and Saturday, because I don't know what I'm going to need, and me with fibro, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to do it all alone. *Sigh* But I know him. If he's on call that week, he won't help me, he won't take time off, other than the wedding day itself. And I'll be left to do it all myself, or just not have it done.
Here's where I wish I had friends I could count on. But Sabrina works full time and has three kids. She's also totally unwilling to even think of coming to Toronto, so she's no help. And Angie.... well, we weren't ever that close really, and besides, I know she always works weekends. They both blame me for not making an effort to stay in touch - I got the lecture from Sabrina over the weekend. Meanwhile it's been years since Angie actually invited me to her home or called or tried to get together with me. Sabrina always says I should come down to Hamilton and spend time with her, but she's totally unwilling to come to Toronto to see me. She does that vague thing 'we should get together', but that's it. She's works full time; she has three kids; she's busy. I'm not going to assume she can drop everything, but she never tells me when's a good time. And why is the gods damn onus all on me?! Why don't they share any of the responsibility?! It's totally unfair. And it makes me so angry. Why is it all my fault??? It's not damnit.
Anyway, back to my wedding prep help issue... I don't... I have friends in Toronto, but none so close that I invited them to my wedding, and I'd feel like a real ass asking for their help. Hell, even if they were coming, I'd still feel like an ass. I don't feel like I have any business asking them.... We aren't that close. And I'm terrible about asking for help. I hate it. Besides, I know the days before the wedding I'm going to be all stressed out, and not good company, and then asking for them to help me lug things.... No, I couldn't do it.
*sigh* Perhaps I won't need the help. I mean, it's not like I'll have a lot to do. I'm hoping to have everything but the cake and flowers done well before the week of the wedding. The cakes can be baked and frozen over the week before, and I can frost it in pieces on the Friday I think. Then I'll have Saturday to get flowers and make my bouquet and the buttonholes. Since those are the only flowers it shouldn't be too much for just me. I've already asked my semi-pro cake making friend if she'd make our cake toppers. I'm pretty sure I can do the rest myself... or you know, in a pinch I'll leave it plain and it will be fine.... assuming I can find cake pans. fuck my luck. I still don't know where to even find square pans.
Stressing! Everything is stressing me out. It will be fine. I'm sure it will be fine. Even if Chris decided to work the whole week, it will be fine. I didn't want a honeymoon anyway. I kept saying I didn't so if I don't get one, well, that's just what I asked for. And it's my own damn fault if I regret it. As for the engagement pictures....I'm as fat as a house. I hate how I look. I can't look at myself without disgust. This is not a time in my life I particularly want immortalized anyway. So if it doesn't happen, oh well. I honestly don't think I'll miss them.
It doesn't help that I feel tired and sore and bone weary all the time. It's so fucking draining. I don't want to do anything most of the time...except sleep. It's really hard to get the motivation to do anything when you're so damn tired, and riddled with pain. And nauseous. Lets not forget the nausea. I don't know how other people do it. I know others with chronic pain/illness and they are all better woman than I. They all seem to have drive and determination, and they just keep going. I honestly don't know how they do it. I can't. I just can't. I don't have it in me anymore.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Good News, Bad News
I had a pretty good weekend. Chris and I went with his parents to Humber Arboretum to take a look around. We are hoping to do wedding pictures there, but I'd never seen it, so we wanted to check it out. It's beautiful. There are so many wonderful spots for pictures. So many lovely plants. I'm terribly excited. I really hope it doesn't rain! I want pictures there. Chris suggested I come back much closer to the wedding to scout it out again - to see how it's changed. I'm totally up for that. I really like the place. Heck, it has a sort of forest in the back with paths, I would love to just go walking in there. So pretty and green!
I really want/wanted fall colours for my wedding, but I don't think that's going to happen in Southern Ontario in the beginning of October. Perhaps if the wedding was in the beginning of November...but we wanted 10.10.10, so oh well. I'm happy with my date. If everything is still green, the pictures will look lovely for it as well. :)
So that was the good news.... Now to the bad news. I called my mom today to see how she and Pa are doing, and to ask about fasting for a cholesterol test, as I know she's done it. She reluctantly told me that Pa is in the hospital with pneumonia! She called an ambulance for him Friday, and he's been in there since. o.0 She's seen him every day, and yesterday he was feeling a lot better, was eating like he's starved, and wants to come home - all good signs. I'm not too terribly worried. If he's eating like she said, he can't be that sick. My Pa can eat, the only time he can't eat is when he's really sick. So yeah, he's on the road to recovery, yay! B
What I can't wrap my brain around is that mom didn't want to tell me because she didn't want me to worry!! o.0 Of course I'm going to worry! And I told her so! They're my parents! I love them! Of course I worry about them. She laughed when I told her. I think it was my tone. But like, she specifically didn't tell me cause she didn't want to worry me. I swear, that woman is going to give me a facial tick!
I still haven't gotten the pictures off my camera from the Arboretum. We had a really busy weekend, at least it felt busy. I need to charge my battery first I think, since it was flashing empty when we were there. But I'll post some of the pictures cause the place is just lovely!
I really want/wanted fall colours for my wedding, but I don't think that's going to happen in Southern Ontario in the beginning of October. Perhaps if the wedding was in the beginning of November...but we wanted 10.10.10, so oh well. I'm happy with my date. If everything is still green, the pictures will look lovely for it as well. :)
So that was the good news.... Now to the bad news. I called my mom today to see how she and Pa are doing, and to ask about fasting for a cholesterol test, as I know she's done it. She reluctantly told me that Pa is in the hospital with pneumonia! She called an ambulance for him Friday, and he's been in there since. o.0 She's seen him every day, and yesterday he was feeling a lot better, was eating like he's starved, and wants to come home - all good signs. I'm not too terribly worried. If he's eating like she said, he can't be that sick. My Pa can eat, the only time he can't eat is when he's really sick. So yeah, he's on the road to recovery, yay! B
What I can't wrap my brain around is that mom didn't want to tell me because she didn't want me to worry!! o.0 Of course I'm going to worry! And I told her so! They're my parents! I love them! Of course I worry about them. She laughed when I told her. I think it was my tone. But like, she specifically didn't tell me cause she didn't want to worry me. I swear, that woman is going to give me a facial tick!
I still haven't gotten the pictures off my camera from the Arboretum. We had a really busy weekend, at least it felt busy. I need to charge my battery first I think, since it was flashing empty when we were there. But I'll post some of the pictures cause the place is just lovely!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Wedding Ceremony & Dress Fitting
So yesterday I had my first real dress fitting!! :D The last time I went to see my dressmaker, all we were working with was a muslin blueprint of my upper dress/body. This time I had a whole dress!! Squee! Of course I don't have pictures because I forgot my camera. DOH. My mom was there, and she took pictures though! So when when she gets them developed, I'll have pictures for you all. You know, I was really really scared she was never going to see my dress about two months ago now. I just cannot get over how lucky I am to still have her!! So lucky. It was so nice to have her there. For her to see my dress, that she's buying for me ! Squee! I'm so spoiled. And so so very grateful!
It's so so so pretty!! I can't get over how lovely it is! I still don't now what to do about a necklace. It definitely needs to be small, there just isn't a lot of real estate for it frankly. I'm kinda thinking I might not wear a necklace at all! I love my dress, I feel like a queen in it! The train is just the perfect length! The lacing in the back, and the gathering, oh my goodness, so amazing! Sorry for teasing. Porn soon. Really. And I did decide on laces for my wedding sneakers - red if I can find them, black if not. Oh, the colour of my dress. I'd forgotten just how stunning the silk I bought it!
Okay, enough gushing.
Wedding ceremony. *sigh* I'm trying to write/Frankenstein my own. It's so not easy! The other day I added a piece that is very me, and suits both Chris' and my sense of humour. Reading it today, I feel like it doesn't fit with the general mood. I don't want to cut it out, it's too perfectly us, but I'm not entirely sure how to change the mood elsewhere to fit.
I kinda want to share it with you all. On the hopes you'll tell me what you think. I love Chris, and he's really easy going about most wedding stuff, which can be great, I get what I want! But sometimes not so helpful when I don't know what I want. So I'm hoping some of my friends who indulge me enough to read once in awhile, will read and help. :)
So, this is what I have so far:
__________________________________
Welcome
It is my pleasure and my privilege to be with you today. My name is Nice Lady, a Humanist Officiant.
Welcome Melissa, Christopher, and all of you here today to witness and to celebrate their happiness in the joining of their lives. You are the people who mean the most to them and each of you have played a special part in the shaping of their lives. The support you bring to them today gives further meaning and depth to the vows they are about to make to each other.
We would also like to recognize those unable to be here, and those no longer with us, whose love and guidance has added to the richness of their lives.
Today Christopher and Melissa make formal and legal what has already been created between them. Theirs is a partnership freely chosen, and founded on friendship, trust, and respect; a partnership that encourages not only self-expression, understanding and the development of wisdom through the sharing of knowledge, but also an enthusiasm for living. It is based on the belief that each is equally important.
Reading
I would like to invite Dad Awesomesause, father of the groom, to recite a reading chosen by the bride.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare
Question/Charge
Melissa and Christopher, you have come now to affirm the union that already exists between you. Do you give yourselves freely to each other with honour and a sense of dedication? We do.
To Guests
Do you who are present here bestow your blessings on their marriage? We do.
Vow Reading???
Vows
The vows through which you accept each other as partners have no hidden power within them; they are merely words. Nothing is easier than saying words, and nothing harder than living them day by day. What you promise today must be renewed and reaffirmed tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. At the end of this ceremony, legally, you will be husband and wife, but you must still decide, each day that stretches out before you, that you want to be married. It is your continuing commitment to each other and conviction in your vows that give them meaning.
I invite you now to join hands as you repeat your vows.
In the presence of our family and friends, I, Christopher Awesomesause, take you Melissa Honeybee, to be my [lawfully] wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and respect you, as long as we both shall live. OR till death do us part???
In the presence of our family and friends, I, Melissa Honeybee, take you Christopher Awesomesause, to be my [lawfully] wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and respect you, as long as we both shall live.
Exchange of Rings
Love, tuw wuv, is a teapot, but we wear rings since they are easier to get on our fingers. Love is a teapot, love is a circle, a square, a polygram - love is what you make of it. And here today, Christopher and Melissa vow to make their love the lasting kind. Their love will keep them safe and warm through whatever storms life throws at them, just like a good teapot would.
Now, as you place this ring on Melissa/Christoper's finger, please repeat after me:
With this ring I thee wed.
Pronouncement
Inasmuch as Christopher and Melissa have grown in the knowledge and love of one another, because they have agreed in their desire to go forward in life together, seeking an even richer, deeper relationship, and because they have pledged themselves to meet sorrow and joy as one family, I now pronounce them husband and wife.
Will you seal your vows with a kiss?
Reading(this is dependent on FH finding a reading he likes/and if this is even a good spot for one)
I would like to invite Uncle Honeybee, uncle of the bride, to recite a reading chosen by the groom.
Sign Register
Melissa and Christopher, will you join me with your witnesses BridesBestGirl [No MOH] and Dad Awesomesause to sign the marriage documents.
Presentation of Record of Marriage
By the power vested in me by the Province of Ontario and Humanist Association of Canada, I now pronounce your marriage official and legal. Congratulations.
Closing
Ladies and Gentlemen: I have the pleasure of introducing to you, for the very first time, Mr. & Mrs. Awesomesause. Come froward and join them in congratulations.
__________________________________
So what do y'all think?? Is there anything glaring that I'm missing?? Where is/are good spots in the ceremony to include readings??? I know the first reading is fine, but where to put the second? And possible third?? Any advice would be greatly appreciated!
It's so so so pretty!! I can't get over how lovely it is! I still don't now what to do about a necklace. It definitely needs to be small, there just isn't a lot of real estate for it frankly. I'm kinda thinking I might not wear a necklace at all! I love my dress, I feel like a queen in it! The train is just the perfect length! The lacing in the back, and the gathering, oh my goodness, so amazing! Sorry for teasing. Porn soon. Really. And I did decide on laces for my wedding sneakers - red if I can find them, black if not. Oh, the colour of my dress. I'd forgotten just how stunning the silk I bought it!
Okay, enough gushing.
Wedding ceremony. *sigh* I'm trying to write/Frankenstein my own. It's so not easy! The other day I added a piece that is very me, and suits both Chris' and my sense of humour. Reading it today, I feel like it doesn't fit with the general mood. I don't want to cut it out, it's too perfectly us, but I'm not entirely sure how to change the mood elsewhere to fit.
I kinda want to share it with you all. On the hopes you'll tell me what you think. I love Chris, and he's really easy going about most wedding stuff, which can be great, I get what I want! But sometimes not so helpful when I don't know what I want. So I'm hoping some of my friends who indulge me enough to read once in awhile, will read and help. :)
So, this is what I have so far:
__________________________________
Welcome
It is my pleasure and my privilege to be with you today. My name is Nice Lady, a Humanist Officiant.
Welcome Melissa, Christopher, and all of you here today to witness and to celebrate their happiness in the joining of their lives. You are the people who mean the most to them and each of you have played a special part in the shaping of their lives. The support you bring to them today gives further meaning and depth to the vows they are about to make to each other.
We would also like to recognize those unable to be here, and those no longer with us, whose love and guidance has added to the richness of their lives.
Today Christopher and Melissa make formal and legal what has already been created between them. Theirs is a partnership freely chosen, and founded on friendship, trust, and respect; a partnership that encourages not only self-expression, understanding and the development of wisdom through the sharing of knowledge, but also an enthusiasm for living. It is based on the belief that each is equally important.
Reading
I would like to invite Dad Awesomesause, father of the groom, to recite a reading chosen by the bride.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare
Question/Charge
Melissa and Christopher, you have come now to affirm the union that already exists between you. Do you give yourselves freely to each other with honour and a sense of dedication? We do.
To Guests
Do you who are present here bestow your blessings on their marriage? We do.
Vow Reading???
Vows
The vows through which you accept each other as partners have no hidden power within them; they are merely words. Nothing is easier than saying words, and nothing harder than living them day by day. What you promise today must be renewed and reaffirmed tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. At the end of this ceremony, legally, you will be husband and wife, but you must still decide, each day that stretches out before you, that you want to be married. It is your continuing commitment to each other and conviction in your vows that give them meaning.
I invite you now to join hands as you repeat your vows.
In the presence of our family and friends, I, Christopher Awesomesause, take you Melissa Honeybee, to be my [lawfully] wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and respect you, as long as we both shall live. OR till death do us part???
In the presence of our family and friends, I, Melissa Honeybee, take you Christopher Awesomesause, to be my [lawfully] wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, honor and respect you, as long as we both shall live.
Exchange of Rings
Love, tuw wuv, is a teapot, but we wear rings since they are easier to get on our fingers. Love is a teapot, love is a circle, a square, a polygram - love is what you make of it. And here today, Christopher and Melissa vow to make their love the lasting kind. Their love will keep them safe and warm through whatever storms life throws at them, just like a good teapot would.
Now, as you place this ring on Melissa/Christoper's finger, please repeat after me:
With this ring I thee wed.
Pronouncement
Inasmuch as Christopher and Melissa have grown in the knowledge and love of one another, because they have agreed in their desire to go forward in life together, seeking an even richer, deeper relationship, and because they have pledged themselves to meet sorrow and joy as one family, I now pronounce them husband and wife.
Will you seal your vows with a kiss?
Reading(this is dependent on FH finding a reading he likes/and if this is even a good spot for one)
I would like to invite Uncle Honeybee, uncle of the bride, to recite a reading chosen by the groom.
Sign Register
Melissa and Christopher, will you join me with your witnesses BridesBestGirl [No MOH] and Dad Awesomesause to sign the marriage documents.
Presentation of Record of Marriage
By the power vested in me by the Province of Ontario and Humanist Association of Canada, I now pronounce your marriage official and legal. Congratulations.
Closing
Ladies and Gentlemen: I have the pleasure of introducing to you, for the very first time, Mr. & Mrs. Awesomesause. Come froward and join them in congratulations.
__________________________________
So what do y'all think?? Is there anything glaring that I'm missing?? Where is/are good spots in the ceremony to include readings??? I know the first reading is fine, but where to put the second? And possible third?? Any advice would be greatly appreciated!
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Mrs. Hazelton's Cabbage Soup
Makes: 24-28 cups
Ingredients
Directions:
Ingredients
- 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
- 2 onions, diced
- 3-4 medium carrots, chopped finely
- 4-5 stalks celery, chopped finely
- 0.5kg extra lean ground beef
- 1 small/medium cabbage, chopped to 1/2" pieces
- 2 cups frozen peas
- 2 pouches Lipton Onion Soup Mix
- 3 beef bullion cubes
- 3 cans whole tomatoes, stewed with herbs and spices (we use Our Compliments brand)
- 8 cups water (add more as needed)
- 2-3 cups brown rice
Directions:
- In a large pot, add olive oil, on medium heat. Add onions, carrots, celery as you chop them, stirring often.
- Break up the ground beef into ~1" size pieces as you add it to the pot. Add the onion soup mix and bullion cubes. Stir well.
- Chop cabbage, stirring pot, to ensure even beef browning. Add cabbage as you chop it. Add frozen peas, and stir.
- Open cans of tomatoes, add the juice. Squish the tomatoes with your hands as you add them. Remove any tomato skin you find.
- Add 8 cups of water, stir. Turn heat up to bring to a boil, then turn down to medium heat. Boil for 1-1 11/2 hours.
- Add brown rice, and stir. Add more water, if needed. Cook for another 1 1/2, or until rice is fully cooked and soft.
- Let cool, and put into containers for freezing. When warming up, add more water if you prefer a soupier soup.
Mom
I haven't posted in forever. Honestly, I've been too busy, or too tired for the most part. The last month has been a little crazy for me.
May 26th I was planning to go to Hamilton to visit my parents and get my monthly allergy shot. I get a call from my mom. I didn't answer because, well, I was exhausted and still in bed trying to actually sleep. When I got up, about twenty minutes later, I listened to the message.
My mom called to tell me to bring my keys because her and Pa weren't going to be home - Pa was taking her to the hospital. But I shouldn't worry. She was fine. A little shaky, but that was just nerves. o.0
o.0
I messaged Chris as work, nearly in a panic. Mom hates hospitals, she would not go there on a whim. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I got ready in record time and went to the only hospital I could imagine mom going to - the General. She just told me 'the hospital'. There are lots of hospitals in Hamilton! What if I picked the wrong one? What if they sent her to another? Gah. I went to the General straight from the GO Station. I took a cab. If mom wasn't there, I'd go home and hope she left a note. If not, I'd call every hospital in town until I found her. This was my plan.
Thankfully, she was at the General. I found her in an observation room in Emergency. They had admitted her and swept her away as soon as she arrived. For all the cut backs, sometimes, sometimes they get it very right.
When I talk to mom, she's shocked I came! o.0 Oh mom, she has absolutely no idea how much me all love her. Until I saw her, my heart was in my throat thinking I might have lost her -- not the last time I'd feel that way in this ordeal.
She looked pretty good, she had colour, she was talking, trying to take care of me - she was till my mom. She was still here. whew. But she was shaking. Scared I think really.
She tells me she had a heart attack, Friday night. 2am to 4am, Saturday morning, really. She was in so much pain she was scared to move. She thought she was going to die. She said if she'd had paper and a pen, she'd have written me a letter. o.0 I'm getting married in October, she didn't want me to not have a wedding if she didn't make it through the night. Jesus. She didn't even tell Pa until 11am the next morning!!
She refused to go to the hospital. Her eldest daughter was staying with them, she was going to visit her late husband's family in Calgary Monday, and getting a flight out of Hamilton airport. My Aunt tried to get mom to go to the hospital. Pa tried. No go. Finally they got her to agree to call Dr. Roy, our GP, Monday morning. But she didn't slow down! She went grocery shopping, she did laundry, she went to church, christ, she even vacuumed the living floor Monday morning. o.0
o.0
Pa had to hound her to even get her to call Dr. Roy! Finally she did. Pa then had to push to find out what Dr. Roy said. He told her to go to the hospital. NOW. Yeah. Geez Mom!
So, she's admitted to the hospital, much to her dismay. I stay in Hamilton - of course. Everyone's asking me how long I'm staying. I say, until mom is better. How could I leave?! Also, my Pa is 84. He's more capable than he lets on, but he still doesn't know which meds to take when, or even which are his or mom's. I can't leave him alone! They raised me. I'm not going anywhere until mom's home and okay.
In all this I learn she had a heart attack seven years ago! But it was no where near as bad she says. She did go to the hospital then, but they didn't test her as thoroughly, and said she was fine. o.0 My bet it she wasn't really fine, it just wasn't as obvious then.
They did all kinds of tests. We learn she did have a heart attack, and that there was damage to her heart, but they don't know how much. They schedule a angioplasty for the Wednesday, which was as soon as they could. There was this wonderful young female doctor, I wish I could remember her name! She was amazing. I really liked her. I can picture her face perfectly, but her name, I'm at a loss. doh. I'm not too positive, but I believe she was a cardiac specialist resident. She didn't look more than 28. She was a full doctor, but she had a boss, which is why I'm thinking resident. If she's the future of medicine, we don't have anything to worry about, I tell you what. Smart as a whip, friendly, caring, so so so good at explaining things! Oh, I can't speak well enough of her.
Anyway! The lovely doctor explains that they'll inject a die into one of mom's arteries, and take 'pictures' of her heart to see how it looks. If there is damage/partial blockage to one of her arteries that supplies blood to the heart muscle, which they believe there is, they will put a balloon in to compress the blockage, and then put a stint in to keep it open.
We don't find out until Wednesday night what they did/found. What a long ass day waiting! omg! My Aunt Alice and I go in to see mom Wednesday night. We meet Aunt Christine just leaviing, she's a mess. Crying, distraught. She tells us there is a LOT of damage to mom's heart. Way more than they or we thought. They couldn't fix it that way. But they can do something right, we ask. There has to be something else they can do? Right? Aunt Christine tells us all three of mom's arteries are blocked, and the only option is surgery, but mom doesn't want to do it. We all freaked out. Tears streamed down our faces. We shook. We sobbed. I thought my knees where going to give out. All three? All three blocked? Well she has to do it, I say. We'll convince her Alice and I tell Christine. We're all mom's daughters. We won't lose her. Not without a fight.
Aunt Alice and I wipe away our tears. Blow our noses. Put on our brave faces, and go to see mom. We see the drawing the doctor did of her heart. This doctor being the boss of the wonderful lady I mentioned above. He did the angioplasty. He even came by while we were there to explain to us how blocked her heart is. One of her arteries is blocked solid all the way along. The second is 80% blocked! The third is fully blocked in two places, making it unusable. Her entire heart is running on 20% of the capacity of ONE of her veins. Oh my fucking god. The doctor said they're really surprised she's still waling around. Woah. He said he's done what he can, and has referred mom to a surgeon, who will come talk to her soon.
Mom is still adamant that she doesn't want to do it at this point. She says everyone that has it done spends a year being an invalid, in pain, unable to do anything, then dies. She doesn't want that. My heart was in my throat again. I tell her to at least wait until she hears what the surgeon says before she makes a decision. Aunt Alice tells her about her husband's golf buddy who has had two heart surgeries, ten years apart, and he's fine. He's out playing golf! We try to tell mom medicine has come a long way, it doesn't have to be like that. Aunt Alice reminds her of all the great grandchildren that are going to be born in the next year - 3 more! She wants to be around to see them, doesn't she? I tell her, I'm getting married in October! She has to be there. The only reason I'm having a wedding is - my heart catches in my throat as I try to finish my sentence. I let the tears come and try again. The only reason I'm having a wedding is because I want you there mom, I tell her as I squeeze her hand. We beg her to at least not decide until she talk to the doctor.
I know my mom, if she makes up her mind, she's not going to change it. She's the most stubborn, strong willed person I know. So all I ask of her is not to decide. In my head I pray to Fria. It's been a long time, but she's the only one that's every answered. With all my heart and soul, I pray my mom just listens, just waits to decide until she knows all the facts.
We leave mom hours later, having at least gotten her to promise not to make up her mind until she talks to the doctor. Now we have to go home and tell grandpa. How are we going to tell him, we ask each other. Aunt Alice wants to wait till morning. She doesn't want to worry him. But he's already worried. This is his wife. He's been worried since Saturday morning. I decide, if he's up, we tell him. He has to know.
When we get home, poor Pa is beside himself. We left hours ago! What happened he asks. I say lets go and sit down. I can't tell him standing up. I almost fell down when I heard, I don't want him loosing his feet! So we tell him. He's just as shocked as we are. We all three agree we have to convince her. She has to do it. She just has to. We can't loose her. Pa says he'd be lost without her. And you know, it's so true. They've spent the last 63 years together! I can't even fathom it.
When Pa and I go in the next morning, we're ready for a fight. We are going to convince her. But when we get there, she's already decided she has to do it. Thank the gods. They are keeping her in the hospital - there was some question last night as to what they were going to do with her. They're keeping her until they can do the surgery. They've got it scheduled for Monday afternoon, the soonest they can manage it.
We meet the surgeon on Friday. I say we because it was Aunt Alice, myself, and uncle Russell. He tells us they are going to take veins from mom's legs, and maybe her arms, and replace the blocked arteries. Mom's heart muscle is very strong, but because there is so many blockages, it makes things slightly more risky. Yet again my heart is in my throat waiting for him to tell us the percentages. I'm thinking he'll say there's a 30% chance of her dying. I'm scared, and yet, I'll take those odds. If she doesn't do it, she might live a few days or a few months, but she won't be with us long. Dr. Lami (his name I remember because I saw it written a few times) tells us there is a 5% chance mom could have a heart attack or stroke during the surgery. Only 5%! That's a 95% chance of success I tell mom! That's great! I'll take those odds!
Mom seemed pretty stable, so I go home to visit Chris. I'd called him every night. I fell apart talking to him more than once. He was my rock. He tole me I was his wife. In sickness and in health. That's what he was there for. Sweet man. I needed to see him. I needed to spend some times with my friends. I felt a lot better coming home Sunday after some time with my beloved. He even came home with me to see my mommy. I told him he didn't have to. He said I sounded just like my mom (who I had been complaining was trying to take care of everyone but herself). Yeah. Caught. So he came home with me.
Everyone came to visit mom that Sunday. Alice, her hubby, her eldest son and his girlfriend. Christine and her youngest son, her eldest daughter, her hubby and daughter had already been in I believe. Her daughter Beatrice who hadn't really been talking to mom for. well, years. How good it was to see her there! I know just how much it meant to mom. Even two of mom's great-grandchildren who were visiting Hamilton, came in. Heck, even one of her daughters that lives in New Brunswick, came up with her husband to see mom!!
Monday Morning Aunt Alice came over around 9am, saying she was going to the hospital to see mom, she couldn't wait any longer. Pa went up with Rick and Doris (our N.B. travellers). Aunt Alice had said she was going to come back. I wasn't in a hurry. I'm just so not a morning person. But I was ready by 10 am, and wondering if Aunt Alice really was coming back. I had the phone in my hand and was looking for her cell number when she called. She said they were prepping mom for surgery and if I wanted to see her I better hurry. I called a cab as soon as I hung up with here. Heart in my throat again. I was feeling like it might just take up permanent residence there. I just had to see her. I had to. Oh gods. I couldn't miss her.
When I got to the hospital, I asked Information where she was, in case they'd moved her. I went to the bank of the slowest moving elevators I've ever had to deal with. There was none near the main floor. Screw this, I thought. It's only two floor ups, I can do those stairs. I have bad knees. Stairs in general just don't like me. On bad days my knees scream even going down, and up is always worse. But I just didn't care. I had to see my mom. I could take a little pain, hell, I could take a lot. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. It took all I had not to run through the hallways. Actually, I was pretty winded, the main floor and one above it are extra tall, so it was more like three flights of stairs.
Mom was just coming out of the bathroom when I got there. She'd just had a bath. They already had the bed in the hall that they were taking her downstairs to surgery in! Jeez! Aunt Alice apologized for leaving me. She's such a sweetheart. She felt bad I was left without a way to the hospital. That's what cabs are for I told her. It's no big deal. I got to give my mom a hug. That's what was important. I told her she was the bravest woman I know. Alice, Pa, Doris and I all got to take the huge patient elevator downstairs with mom. Pa and I went into the surgery prep room and said our "I love you"s.
You know, if mom hadn't been in the hospital that weekend we would have lost her then. She had a few small attacks over the weekend. But she was getting better at telling the nurses when she had a problem. In the week she'd been in the hospital there had been an army of Hazeltons come to visit her. And we all told her the same thing: you have to TELL US when something is wrong! Geez. So she was slowly getting better at it. It's a hard habit to break. I have it too, I know. But things work out better when you tell people you aren't feeling well. Especially when you are in the hospital - they can do something about it.
They kicked us out at 1pm. They asked who the representative for the family was going to be when Pa and I were with her. I looked at mom. I said, she's always our rep. Who do you want mom, I asked. She said I better do it. Usually it would be the husband, but Pa is hard of hearing, and can't understand people with accents, like at all. It's best to be me. Same number, and then I can tell him, and everyone else. They tell us Dr. Lami will come see us in the heart investigation waiting room, at 5pm. We plan to be back there by 4:30pm. We don't want to miss him!
Alice, Pa and I end up arriving by 4:20pm. Just before 5pm Doris, Rick and Jean(another of mom's daughters) show up. Uncle Russell shows up just after 5pm. Our doctor is a no show, but we learn they didn't take her into surgery until 2pm, an hour later than planned. Richard, Aunt Barb's youngest arrives around 6pm. Felicia, Aunt Chistine's eldest daughter, arrives just after him. At 6:40pm, Dr. Lami finally comes to see us. He tells us the surgery went 'reasonably well'. Mom is being prepped for a blood transfusion. She's a little woman, with little veins, it was technically challenging, Dr. Lami said, but he's happy with the results. When can we see her, we all want to know. He said we should wait 40 minutes or so for them to to the transfusion and move her to the ICU. Then we can go to the ICU waiting room and call ICU West to see if we can see her. But only two of us can go in at a time he warns us.
Richard leaves, he has to go take care of his family. I can't remember if Felicia left just after him or not. Doh. Aunt Christine found us at some point. I think we'd moved to the ICU waiting room by the time she caught up with us. After we got the news Jean and Doris went for a walk. I think Alice and Pa just went to the other waiting room. I went for some food, I was freaking staring, and I had to take my meds. Taking them on an empty stomach would have been a bad idea. I wanted to call Chris, but I don't have a cell phone, I couldn't remember our 905 number, and calling our 416 would be $5 on a pay phone. And I really didn't feel comfy sticking my VISA in a pay phone.
We called 45 minutes after seeing Dr. Lami. They were still working with mom, and we couldn't see her. They asked us to call back in another 40 minutes. When we called back, they let us all come in to see her. She was in a bed near a window. She had tubes down her throat. She had needles hooked into her, and tubes everywhere. She was covered in this odd moving blanket. She was soooooo swollen. None of us had ever seen her look like this before. Pa nearly fell over when he saw her. Thank goodness he had three of his girls beside him. They kept him standing. All them with tears in their eyes, streaming down their face. It occured to me then that they were all the same height, the same small frame. I wasn't crying. She was still with us! She was here. She made it. The ICU nurse explained the odd blanket was keeping her warm with warm air. She'd had two blood transfusions. She was on lots of drugs, for pain, to help her heart work, all sorts. The nurse said she'd woken up, and squeezed their hand when they asked, and that now she was resting - they'd put her out.
Her first night was a little rough. Tuesday morning they did more tests, and found out that either during or soon after her surgery she'd had another attack and had done damage to the back of her heart. She was on lots of drugs to let her heart rest as much as it could, so her heart could heal. Scared. So very very scared. I didn't find all this out until Tuesday night or was it Wednesday? I think it was Wednesday that I learned all this. Yes, Wednesday. She was still the same, still needing lots of support. Still with the damaged heart. Jesus.
I was so scared I called Chris with no pretense even of not crying. I was so scared I was going to lose her. After all this and we were going to lose her. I couldn't lose her! I just couldn't. Heart in my throat. Tears streaming down my face. I needed him. I asked Chris to come to Hamilton, or maybe I begged, my heart was begging, I'm not sure what words were coming out; if he could swing it with work, that is. I was so scared. So very very scared.
I think it was Thursday when Chris came down to see mom. Pa and I went to the hospital in the morning and Chris met me there. We went up to see mom. He told mom he wanted her at his wedding, that he was expecting her there. She squeezed his hand. She was still hooked up to so many tubes, and that horrible tube down her throat! But she was doing better. She was stable now.
I didn't go home that weekend, Chris was sick. But mom had her tube out of her throat by Friday, and was telling me to go! I was not about to risk getting sick. I told her I was staying and why so she wouldn't worry about me. She's all hooked up, just had open heart surgery, and she's worried about me! That's my mom. I love her, and sometimes she makes me crazy.
It was a full week before she was out of ICU. But by that Saturday she was home! I left Friday to visit Chris. Mom had said they didn't think they were letting her out until next week, but she called me Saturday afternoon to tell me she was home! She told me Alice was there, did some laundry, had bought her some groceries, and that she didn't want for anything. So I came home Sunday as planned. You know, I was shocked to see her up and walking around the house. Go mom!
She's still recovering. It's a long ass road. I've been spending my weekends in Toronto and my weeks in Hamilton taking care of my parents as much as they'll let me. Mom can shower all by herself, cook dinner for her and Pa, fill both their pill cases, order prescription refills, all sorts, but she isn't leaving the house, she not that well yet. I think she's doing great! All I really do is get groceries, and do laundry, as that's in the basement.
We're working on plan to get the washer and dryer upstairs. I am finally moving out of my bedroom. Really, we're just playing tetris with the house. Most of my clothes and stuff are going up into the attic. I'm giving Pa my chair, TV, VCR, and DVD player, and letting him borrow the armour it's in. I think at some point I might want the armour back, but that might not be for many years. We're going to take apart my bed, put the frame up int he attic, and the mattress in what is no Pa's room. He'll get my room. And his room can be a pantry/laundry room I think. So much to do. Mom is thinking we don't need to move stuff up from downstairs, but frig, when I'm there I go up and down those stairs about 14 times a day! She can't be doing that. Dr. Lami said when she came home she wouldn't have any restrictions on what she could do, but how well she is makes restrictions. I'm not sure she can handle doing that many stairs! And why should she if she doesn't have to? So yeah, that's where I've been for the past month.
I have always been very very grateful to have my parents as my parents. They took me in when they didn't have to. They loved me and raised me like their own. They spoiled me, loved me, and taught me how to love, and what was really important in life. I'm so very lucky to have them. And after all this, I feel even more lucky. My mommy is going to be at my wedding. My guest of honour.
I told Chris, when we can, I want to donate to the Canadian Heart and Stroke Foundation. And I want to keep doing it. If it wasn't for them, for organizations like them, my mom would not be with us. There just isn't anything more valuable to me. I still have my mommy. And I'm hoping I'll get to keep her for many more years to come.
May 26th I was planning to go to Hamilton to visit my parents and get my monthly allergy shot. I get a call from my mom. I didn't answer because, well, I was exhausted and still in bed trying to actually sleep. When I got up, about twenty minutes later, I listened to the message.
My mom called to tell me to bring my keys because her and Pa weren't going to be home - Pa was taking her to the hospital. But I shouldn't worry. She was fine. A little shaky, but that was just nerves. o.0
o.0
I messaged Chris as work, nearly in a panic. Mom hates hospitals, she would not go there on a whim. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I got ready in record time and went to the only hospital I could imagine mom going to - the General. She just told me 'the hospital'. There are lots of hospitals in Hamilton! What if I picked the wrong one? What if they sent her to another? Gah. I went to the General straight from the GO Station. I took a cab. If mom wasn't there, I'd go home and hope she left a note. If not, I'd call every hospital in town until I found her. This was my plan.
Thankfully, she was at the General. I found her in an observation room in Emergency. They had admitted her and swept her away as soon as she arrived. For all the cut backs, sometimes, sometimes they get it very right.
When I talk to mom, she's shocked I came! o.0 Oh mom, she has absolutely no idea how much me all love her. Until I saw her, my heart was in my throat thinking I might have lost her -- not the last time I'd feel that way in this ordeal.
She looked pretty good, she had colour, she was talking, trying to take care of me - she was till my mom. She was still here. whew. But she was shaking. Scared I think really.
She tells me she had a heart attack, Friday night. 2am to 4am, Saturday morning, really. She was in so much pain she was scared to move. She thought she was going to die. She said if she'd had paper and a pen, she'd have written me a letter. o.0 I'm getting married in October, she didn't want me to not have a wedding if she didn't make it through the night. Jesus. She didn't even tell Pa until 11am the next morning!!
She refused to go to the hospital. Her eldest daughter was staying with them, she was going to visit her late husband's family in Calgary Monday, and getting a flight out of Hamilton airport. My Aunt tried to get mom to go to the hospital. Pa tried. No go. Finally they got her to agree to call Dr. Roy, our GP, Monday morning. But she didn't slow down! She went grocery shopping, she did laundry, she went to church, christ, she even vacuumed the living floor Monday morning. o.0
o.0
Pa had to hound her to even get her to call Dr. Roy! Finally she did. Pa then had to push to find out what Dr. Roy said. He told her to go to the hospital. NOW. Yeah. Geez Mom!
So, she's admitted to the hospital, much to her dismay. I stay in Hamilton - of course. Everyone's asking me how long I'm staying. I say, until mom is better. How could I leave?! Also, my Pa is 84. He's more capable than he lets on, but he still doesn't know which meds to take when, or even which are his or mom's. I can't leave him alone! They raised me. I'm not going anywhere until mom's home and okay.
In all this I learn she had a heart attack seven years ago! But it was no where near as bad she says. She did go to the hospital then, but they didn't test her as thoroughly, and said she was fine. o.0 My bet it she wasn't really fine, it just wasn't as obvious then.
They did all kinds of tests. We learn she did have a heart attack, and that there was damage to her heart, but they don't know how much. They schedule a angioplasty for the Wednesday, which was as soon as they could. There was this wonderful young female doctor, I wish I could remember her name! She was amazing. I really liked her. I can picture her face perfectly, but her name, I'm at a loss. doh. I'm not too positive, but I believe she was a cardiac specialist resident. She didn't look more than 28. She was a full doctor, but she had a boss, which is why I'm thinking resident. If she's the future of medicine, we don't have anything to worry about, I tell you what. Smart as a whip, friendly, caring, so so so good at explaining things! Oh, I can't speak well enough of her.
Anyway! The lovely doctor explains that they'll inject a die into one of mom's arteries, and take 'pictures' of her heart to see how it looks. If there is damage/partial blockage to one of her arteries that supplies blood to the heart muscle, which they believe there is, they will put a balloon in to compress the blockage, and then put a stint in to keep it open.
We don't find out until Wednesday night what they did/found. What a long ass day waiting! omg! My Aunt Alice and I go in to see mom Wednesday night. We meet Aunt Christine just leaviing, she's a mess. Crying, distraught. She tells us there is a LOT of damage to mom's heart. Way more than they or we thought. They couldn't fix it that way. But they can do something right, we ask. There has to be something else they can do? Right? Aunt Christine tells us all three of mom's arteries are blocked, and the only option is surgery, but mom doesn't want to do it. We all freaked out. Tears streamed down our faces. We shook. We sobbed. I thought my knees where going to give out. All three? All three blocked? Well she has to do it, I say. We'll convince her Alice and I tell Christine. We're all mom's daughters. We won't lose her. Not without a fight.
Aunt Alice and I wipe away our tears. Blow our noses. Put on our brave faces, and go to see mom. We see the drawing the doctor did of her heart. This doctor being the boss of the wonderful lady I mentioned above. He did the angioplasty. He even came by while we were there to explain to us how blocked her heart is. One of her arteries is blocked solid all the way along. The second is 80% blocked! The third is fully blocked in two places, making it unusable. Her entire heart is running on 20% of the capacity of ONE of her veins. Oh my fucking god. The doctor said they're really surprised she's still waling around. Woah. He said he's done what he can, and has referred mom to a surgeon, who will come talk to her soon.
Mom is still adamant that she doesn't want to do it at this point. She says everyone that has it done spends a year being an invalid, in pain, unable to do anything, then dies. She doesn't want that. My heart was in my throat again. I tell her to at least wait until she hears what the surgeon says before she makes a decision. Aunt Alice tells her about her husband's golf buddy who has had two heart surgeries, ten years apart, and he's fine. He's out playing golf! We try to tell mom medicine has come a long way, it doesn't have to be like that. Aunt Alice reminds her of all the great grandchildren that are going to be born in the next year - 3 more! She wants to be around to see them, doesn't she? I tell her, I'm getting married in October! She has to be there. The only reason I'm having a wedding is - my heart catches in my throat as I try to finish my sentence. I let the tears come and try again. The only reason I'm having a wedding is because I want you there mom, I tell her as I squeeze her hand. We beg her to at least not decide until she talk to the doctor.
I know my mom, if she makes up her mind, she's not going to change it. She's the most stubborn, strong willed person I know. So all I ask of her is not to decide. In my head I pray to Fria. It's been a long time, but she's the only one that's every answered. With all my heart and soul, I pray my mom just listens, just waits to decide until she knows all the facts.
We leave mom hours later, having at least gotten her to promise not to make up her mind until she talks to the doctor. Now we have to go home and tell grandpa. How are we going to tell him, we ask each other. Aunt Alice wants to wait till morning. She doesn't want to worry him. But he's already worried. This is his wife. He's been worried since Saturday morning. I decide, if he's up, we tell him. He has to know.
When we get home, poor Pa is beside himself. We left hours ago! What happened he asks. I say lets go and sit down. I can't tell him standing up. I almost fell down when I heard, I don't want him loosing his feet! So we tell him. He's just as shocked as we are. We all three agree we have to convince her. She has to do it. She just has to. We can't loose her. Pa says he'd be lost without her. And you know, it's so true. They've spent the last 63 years together! I can't even fathom it.
When Pa and I go in the next morning, we're ready for a fight. We are going to convince her. But when we get there, she's already decided she has to do it. Thank the gods. They are keeping her in the hospital - there was some question last night as to what they were going to do with her. They're keeping her until they can do the surgery. They've got it scheduled for Monday afternoon, the soonest they can manage it.
We meet the surgeon on Friday. I say we because it was Aunt Alice, myself, and uncle Russell. He tells us they are going to take veins from mom's legs, and maybe her arms, and replace the blocked arteries. Mom's heart muscle is very strong, but because there is so many blockages, it makes things slightly more risky. Yet again my heart is in my throat waiting for him to tell us the percentages. I'm thinking he'll say there's a 30% chance of her dying. I'm scared, and yet, I'll take those odds. If she doesn't do it, she might live a few days or a few months, but she won't be with us long. Dr. Lami (his name I remember because I saw it written a few times) tells us there is a 5% chance mom could have a heart attack or stroke during the surgery. Only 5%! That's a 95% chance of success I tell mom! That's great! I'll take those odds!
Mom seemed pretty stable, so I go home to visit Chris. I'd called him every night. I fell apart talking to him more than once. He was my rock. He tole me I was his wife. In sickness and in health. That's what he was there for. Sweet man. I needed to see him. I needed to spend some times with my friends. I felt a lot better coming home Sunday after some time with my beloved. He even came home with me to see my mommy. I told him he didn't have to. He said I sounded just like my mom (who I had been complaining was trying to take care of everyone but herself). Yeah. Caught. So he came home with me.
Everyone came to visit mom that Sunday. Alice, her hubby, her eldest son and his girlfriend. Christine and her youngest son, her eldest daughter, her hubby and daughter had already been in I believe. Her daughter Beatrice who hadn't really been talking to mom for. well, years. How good it was to see her there! I know just how much it meant to mom. Even two of mom's great-grandchildren who were visiting Hamilton, came in. Heck, even one of her daughters that lives in New Brunswick, came up with her husband to see mom!!
Monday Morning Aunt Alice came over around 9am, saying she was going to the hospital to see mom, she couldn't wait any longer. Pa went up with Rick and Doris (our N.B. travellers). Aunt Alice had said she was going to come back. I wasn't in a hurry. I'm just so not a morning person. But I was ready by 10 am, and wondering if Aunt Alice really was coming back. I had the phone in my hand and was looking for her cell number when she called. She said they were prepping mom for surgery and if I wanted to see her I better hurry. I called a cab as soon as I hung up with here. Heart in my throat again. I was feeling like it might just take up permanent residence there. I just had to see her. I had to. Oh gods. I couldn't miss her.
When I got to the hospital, I asked Information where she was, in case they'd moved her. I went to the bank of the slowest moving elevators I've ever had to deal with. There was none near the main floor. Screw this, I thought. It's only two floor ups, I can do those stairs. I have bad knees. Stairs in general just don't like me. On bad days my knees scream even going down, and up is always worse. But I just didn't care. I had to see my mom. I could take a little pain, hell, I could take a lot. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. It took all I had not to run through the hallways. Actually, I was pretty winded, the main floor and one above it are extra tall, so it was more like three flights of stairs.
Mom was just coming out of the bathroom when I got there. She'd just had a bath. They already had the bed in the hall that they were taking her downstairs to surgery in! Jeez! Aunt Alice apologized for leaving me. She's such a sweetheart. She felt bad I was left without a way to the hospital. That's what cabs are for I told her. It's no big deal. I got to give my mom a hug. That's what was important. I told her she was the bravest woman I know. Alice, Pa, Doris and I all got to take the huge patient elevator downstairs with mom. Pa and I went into the surgery prep room and said our "I love you"s.
You know, if mom hadn't been in the hospital that weekend we would have lost her then. She had a few small attacks over the weekend. But she was getting better at telling the nurses when she had a problem. In the week she'd been in the hospital there had been an army of Hazeltons come to visit her. And we all told her the same thing: you have to TELL US when something is wrong! Geez. So she was slowly getting better at it. It's a hard habit to break. I have it too, I know. But things work out better when you tell people you aren't feeling well. Especially when you are in the hospital - they can do something about it.
They kicked us out at 1pm. They asked who the representative for the family was going to be when Pa and I were with her. I looked at mom. I said, she's always our rep. Who do you want mom, I asked. She said I better do it. Usually it would be the husband, but Pa is hard of hearing, and can't understand people with accents, like at all. It's best to be me. Same number, and then I can tell him, and everyone else. They tell us Dr. Lami will come see us in the heart investigation waiting room, at 5pm. We plan to be back there by 4:30pm. We don't want to miss him!
Alice, Pa and I end up arriving by 4:20pm. Just before 5pm Doris, Rick and Jean(another of mom's daughters) show up. Uncle Russell shows up just after 5pm. Our doctor is a no show, but we learn they didn't take her into surgery until 2pm, an hour later than planned. Richard, Aunt Barb's youngest arrives around 6pm. Felicia, Aunt Chistine's eldest daughter, arrives just after him. At 6:40pm, Dr. Lami finally comes to see us. He tells us the surgery went 'reasonably well'. Mom is being prepped for a blood transfusion. She's a little woman, with little veins, it was technically challenging, Dr. Lami said, but he's happy with the results. When can we see her, we all want to know. He said we should wait 40 minutes or so for them to to the transfusion and move her to the ICU. Then we can go to the ICU waiting room and call ICU West to see if we can see her. But only two of us can go in at a time he warns us.
Richard leaves, he has to go take care of his family. I can't remember if Felicia left just after him or not. Doh. Aunt Christine found us at some point. I think we'd moved to the ICU waiting room by the time she caught up with us. After we got the news Jean and Doris went for a walk. I think Alice and Pa just went to the other waiting room. I went for some food, I was freaking staring, and I had to take my meds. Taking them on an empty stomach would have been a bad idea. I wanted to call Chris, but I don't have a cell phone, I couldn't remember our 905 number, and calling our 416 would be $5 on a pay phone. And I really didn't feel comfy sticking my VISA in a pay phone.
We called 45 minutes after seeing Dr. Lami. They were still working with mom, and we couldn't see her. They asked us to call back in another 40 minutes. When we called back, they let us all come in to see her. She was in a bed near a window. She had tubes down her throat. She had needles hooked into her, and tubes everywhere. She was covered in this odd moving blanket. She was soooooo swollen. None of us had ever seen her look like this before. Pa nearly fell over when he saw her. Thank goodness he had three of his girls beside him. They kept him standing. All them with tears in their eyes, streaming down their face. It occured to me then that they were all the same height, the same small frame. I wasn't crying. She was still with us! She was here. She made it. The ICU nurse explained the odd blanket was keeping her warm with warm air. She'd had two blood transfusions. She was on lots of drugs, for pain, to help her heart work, all sorts. The nurse said she'd woken up, and squeezed their hand when they asked, and that now she was resting - they'd put her out.
Her first night was a little rough. Tuesday morning they did more tests, and found out that either during or soon after her surgery she'd had another attack and had done damage to the back of her heart. She was on lots of drugs to let her heart rest as much as it could, so her heart could heal. Scared. So very very scared. I didn't find all this out until Tuesday night or was it Wednesday? I think it was Wednesday that I learned all this. Yes, Wednesday. She was still the same, still needing lots of support. Still with the damaged heart. Jesus.
I was so scared I called Chris with no pretense even of not crying. I was so scared I was going to lose her. After all this and we were going to lose her. I couldn't lose her! I just couldn't. Heart in my throat. Tears streaming down my face. I needed him. I asked Chris to come to Hamilton, or maybe I begged, my heart was begging, I'm not sure what words were coming out; if he could swing it with work, that is. I was so scared. So very very scared.
I think it was Thursday when Chris came down to see mom. Pa and I went to the hospital in the morning and Chris met me there. We went up to see mom. He told mom he wanted her at his wedding, that he was expecting her there. She squeezed his hand. She was still hooked up to so many tubes, and that horrible tube down her throat! But she was doing better. She was stable now.
I didn't go home that weekend, Chris was sick. But mom had her tube out of her throat by Friday, and was telling me to go! I was not about to risk getting sick. I told her I was staying and why so she wouldn't worry about me. She's all hooked up, just had open heart surgery, and she's worried about me! That's my mom. I love her, and sometimes she makes me crazy.
It was a full week before she was out of ICU. But by that Saturday she was home! I left Friday to visit Chris. Mom had said they didn't think they were letting her out until next week, but she called me Saturday afternoon to tell me she was home! She told me Alice was there, did some laundry, had bought her some groceries, and that she didn't want for anything. So I came home Sunday as planned. You know, I was shocked to see her up and walking around the house. Go mom!
She's still recovering. It's a long ass road. I've been spending my weekends in Toronto and my weeks in Hamilton taking care of my parents as much as they'll let me. Mom can shower all by herself, cook dinner for her and Pa, fill both their pill cases, order prescription refills, all sorts, but she isn't leaving the house, she not that well yet. I think she's doing great! All I really do is get groceries, and do laundry, as that's in the basement.
We're working on plan to get the washer and dryer upstairs. I am finally moving out of my bedroom. Really, we're just playing tetris with the house. Most of my clothes and stuff are going up into the attic. I'm giving Pa my chair, TV, VCR, and DVD player, and letting him borrow the armour it's in. I think at some point I might want the armour back, but that might not be for many years. We're going to take apart my bed, put the frame up int he attic, and the mattress in what is no Pa's room. He'll get my room. And his room can be a pantry/laundry room I think. So much to do. Mom is thinking we don't need to move stuff up from downstairs, but frig, when I'm there I go up and down those stairs about 14 times a day! She can't be doing that. Dr. Lami said when she came home she wouldn't have any restrictions on what she could do, but how well she is makes restrictions. I'm not sure she can handle doing that many stairs! And why should she if she doesn't have to? So yeah, that's where I've been for the past month.
I have always been very very grateful to have my parents as my parents. They took me in when they didn't have to. They loved me and raised me like their own. They spoiled me, loved me, and taught me how to love, and what was really important in life. I'm so very lucky to have them. And after all this, I feel even more lucky. My mommy is going to be at my wedding. My guest of honour.
I told Chris, when we can, I want to donate to the Canadian Heart and Stroke Foundation. And I want to keep doing it. If it wasn't for them, for organizations like them, my mom would not be with us. There just isn't anything more valuable to me. I still have my mommy. And I'm hoping I'll get to keep her for many more years to come.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
I'm so ashamed! And so sore! Ugh.
So I finally realised Tuesday after my shower, that something really was wrong, and it couldn't just be my firbo fucking with me. *sigh* Hot, swollen, gooey...Infection. Bleck. I called my dr, got at appointment for the next morning, and made my way to Hamilton. Sure, I could have spent 4 hours or more at a clinic, seen a dr that doesn't know me, or all the drugs I'm allergic to, but then I'd just have antibiotics that would make me very sick, possibly too sick to even keep them down. No, I'd much rather make the trip and see my own doctor. Besides, it gave me a chance to see my parents for a bit, and they appreciated that. My mom misses me I think, bless her heart.
I started treatment yesterday. I'm sure in a few days I'll have a yeast infection, and a few days after that I'm sure I'll have thrush. I fucking hate yeast. I really really do. I wish there was some way I could just get rid of them, but there isn't. *sigh* At least not that I know of anyway. boo-urns.
I'm also really embarrassed by the whole situation. First, that I was too prideful, too damn stubborn to admit I could have fucked up and got my tattoo infected. I would almost say I was too quick to blame the fibro, but fibro just loves to fuck with my skin and my pain responses, so really, I don't blame myself for thinking that's what was going on. Still. Infected. Damnit.
The only thing I can think of, is that very first night, I didn't tape down the very bottom of one side of the bandage more. I'd thought of it, but then I thought my undies would hold it down. They didn't. When I woke up the bandage had lifted, and the skin where the infection is was all tender and oozing. Granted the whole tattoo was pretty damn tender and bits were oozing as well, tender bits that had been worked more than they could take. I thought that's what had happened to the area I now know was/is infected. *sigh*
I can't really blame myself for not knowing the signs of infection from the signs of a pissed off tattoo. The whole damn thing was sore and swollen for the first few days! It was bruised. About day 4 I say the tell tail sickly yellow-greenish colour of a healing bruise at the top of one part of the tattoo. I just thought the bruise under the flower was bigger/angrier. Boy was I wrong!
I feel like a git. I should know better! I've healed almost a dozen tattoo sessions and NEVER, not once did I get an infection! They all healed really well damnit. And this time, this time when it hurt more than I can put into words, this is the time I get an infection. *sigh* It's my fault. I should have tapped the bandage down. I should have known sooner what was going on....before colour lifted and turned my skin into a scarred mess. *pouts*
Fuck, how am I going to tell Rick? So ashamed... I could just kick myself.
I started treatment yesterday. I'm sure in a few days I'll have a yeast infection, and a few days after that I'm sure I'll have thrush. I fucking hate yeast. I really really do. I wish there was some way I could just get rid of them, but there isn't. *sigh* At least not that I know of anyway. boo-urns.
I'm also really embarrassed by the whole situation. First, that I was too prideful, too damn stubborn to admit I could have fucked up and got my tattoo infected. I would almost say I was too quick to blame the fibro, but fibro just loves to fuck with my skin and my pain responses, so really, I don't blame myself for thinking that's what was going on. Still. Infected. Damnit.
The only thing I can think of, is that very first night, I didn't tape down the very bottom of one side of the bandage more. I'd thought of it, but then I thought my undies would hold it down. They didn't. When I woke up the bandage had lifted, and the skin where the infection is was all tender and oozing. Granted the whole tattoo was pretty damn tender and bits were oozing as well, tender bits that had been worked more than they could take. I thought that's what had happened to the area I now know was/is infected. *sigh*
I can't really blame myself for not knowing the signs of infection from the signs of a pissed off tattoo. The whole damn thing was sore and swollen for the first few days! It was bruised. About day 4 I say the tell tail sickly yellow-greenish colour of a healing bruise at the top of one part of the tattoo. I just thought the bruise under the flower was bigger/angrier. Boy was I wrong!
I feel like a git. I should know better! I've healed almost a dozen tattoo sessions and NEVER, not once did I get an infection! They all healed really well damnit. And this time, this time when it hurt more than I can put into words, this is the time I get an infection. *sigh* It's my fault. I should have tapped the bandage down. I should have known sooner what was going on....before colour lifted and turned my skin into a scarred mess. *pouts*
Fuck, how am I going to tell Rick? So ashamed... I could just kick myself.
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