Grace's Radio Adventure

Some the cast of Munsh Tales with Charity Brown 

    When Gracie auditioned for The Stirling Festival Theatre's Young Company's "Munch Tales", I knew this was an amazing opportunity for Grace.  Stirling Festival Theatre has much critical acclaim in our area, and even beyond our area.  I thought that she would gain confidence.  I thought that she would learn more about the theatre, and how to take direction.  I knew that she would make new friendships with kids who had a shared common interest.  Of all of the opportunities that I thought I "knew" about, I was surprised to discover today's opportunity, a radio interview.

    Gracie was beside her self with excitement when she learned that her name had been drawn to go to the radio station (the entire cast would not be able to fit into the small recording studio, so names had to be drawn to keep it fair).   She had a mixture of excitement and and an equal dose of nerves.  As we drove to Belleville, Grace looked like she might burst from excitement or throw up.  When all of the kids had assembled at the station, their faces mirrored Grace's.  You could feel the tingling like electricity from their combined feelings.  I looked at all of their fresh faces, taking in the atmosphere, thinking about their potential.  These kids are the potential for Canadian entertainment.  No matter what had happened, Celine Dion would have had a beautiful singing voice, but without people encouraging her, and helping her, the rest of the world would have never heard her voice.  The Stirling Festival Theatre's Young Company parents are encouraging the kids to reach their potential.  David Vanderlip the play's director has seen their potential, recognized their talent and helped them to shape their potential.  The radio station and Charity Brown the DJ, is feeding their potential, telling them they are on the right path, telling them to continue, strive harder.  

    When Grace came down the hall from the recording booth, her face was flushed, and she was walking on cloud nine.  She could barely contain herself.  As soon as we were in the car, she exploded with her joy.  " OH MOM!  We saw how they do the radio.  Charity pushes buttons.  Oh she is sooo much prettier in person Mom  She was soooooo nice Mom.  She's so pretty Mom.  Maybe I want to have my own radio show...."  It all tumbled out of my little girl's mouth.  It was pure joy to hear her. She gave me a play by play of what happened, each new piece of news building with excitement.

    The above is a clip of still pictures and their interview.  Grace and I listened to the interview on the radio as we drove home.  I could barely see the road for my tears of pride.  My little girl was growing up.  She has accomplished so much already.  I don't know if as an adult I would have the courage to do what she is able to do, even though I dearly wish that I could.  It has always been my dream to act in a play, to sing in public, but I just don't have the courage.  Here is my 11 year daughter ripping through my fears, with cautious abandon.  In this case I should be looking to my own child as a role model.

Living In The Moment, In The Now.

The Essence of a New Day

"This is the beginning of a new day.

You have been given this day to use as you will.

You can waste it or use it for good.

What you do today is important because you are 
exchanging a day of your life for it.

When tomorrow comes this day will be gone forever;

in it's place is something left behind....

let it be something good."

    The above poem, inspirational poem came at a perfect time for me.  After waiting for three hours in the emergency waiting room for Grace to be seen by a doctor, listening to a man wretch into a small newspaper bag, and smelling said wretch, I was ready for the next step.  I was so happy and relieved when we were called into a small examining room.  The walls were white with skids from beds, and who knows what else.  There was a big poster on the wall that stated something to the effect of "Sexual and physical assault are not love, call us if you need to talk to someone".  It don't remember the exact wording, but it was something like that.  On the other side of the wall was a framed picture of a beautiful tree at sunset.  Under the beautiful picture was the above, even more beautiful poem.

    I have often heard it said that the right thing or the right person comes to you when you are ready, and in the most need.  I believe this.  The poem came when my soul most needed reminding.  This summer I have been feeling robbed of my summer.  I have been feeling resentful, overwhelmed.  It is one thing to realize that you have chosen this path, it is another to accept it.  I have spent almost everyday feeling resentful and overwhelmed instead of choosing to see the possibilities of the day.

   The funny thing is that I am a "Glass Half Full" person.  I generally see the good in most things.  I think I drive my "Glass Half Empty" husband crazy.  The thing is that I have to see the world as a great place.  I have to see everyone as a good person.  I like to think that everyone in the world is like me, and wants the best.  That is why this resentfulness is so strange.  I have become so trapped in my negativity loop of thinking that I am not able to see the "Glass Half Full".

    Last night I was standing in that small dingy examining room, thinking what a big waste of time all of this was.  A few days ago Grace hurt her pinky finger riding her bike.  She has been crying and complaining about it everyday for the last 4 days.  My first instinct was to say "suck it up, it's just a sore finger."  Then I remember that Grace broke 3 bones in a six month period (and that she's just a little girl and deserves more sympathy).  We took her to her specialist who did a bone density test.  She has low normal bone density for an adult. They don't have statistics for children.  Every time that Grace hurts herself I wonder if it's a broken bone.  It was for that reason that I finally took her to the hospital last night.  After X-rays and 4 hours, we discovered that she had not broken any bones.  I was relieved.  It would seem like the evening had really been a waste of time, and money (gas and $14 for parking), but it wasn't.

    Because Grace hurt her hand, and I needed to make sure it was alright, we went to emergency.  Because we went to emergency we were placed in that dingy room that had that at least temporarily, had a life altering moment.  It seems like a funny thing to say, but the poem shook me awake.  I read it and read it.  It reminded me of that corny "Yesterday is history, Tomorrow is the future, but to day is the Present, and the present is a gift".  It reminded me like a stinging slap in the face, that I was wasting my summer, wasting my future, not making the most of my life right now.

    How many times have you looked back at your past and wished desperately for a do over?  Do you look at your past and wish you had made better choices, or even enjoyed the good more often?  Have you wished that you had been more present in your present?   When you look back over even this year do you remember the days that you did nothing?  Do you remember fondly the days that you wasted?

 By changing the way I look at my present, I can affect my future.  I need to find more joy in the simple.  I cannot find joy if I am bitter.  I need to make a change in the way that I am thinking.  Today is the day that I live in the now.  Today is the day I will not waste on negativity.  Today and everyday forward I will make a difference, even if it is only in a very small way.  Today is the day that I will change the way I think, and in so doing I change my future for the good.

The Case Of The Stinky Piano... Two many Pianos

    For a number of years my husband wanted a piano.  I had no objections to this, I don't play, but I would like the kids to learn.  I want to raise well rounded kids, and I feel like the arts are a big part of that (you notice that you never hear me singing praises for anything physical).  My cousin called me two years ago and asked if we would like to buy their piano.  I jumped at it, especially since they were kind enough to accept a ridiculous payment plan.  We found ourselves with a little piano.

    More times than I would care to have heard, I would hear my kids thumping on the piano, I mean playing the piano.  Christopher taught Grace how to play.  It was beautiful to see the two of them sitting head to head while my husbands huge hands directed Grace's small hands onto the correct keys.  Often I would come home from being out with the kids and find that Christopher had come home before us.  There he would be at the piano, a serene look on his face as he played.  That little piano fit perfectly into our home, not just in the case of space, but in the case of making our house a home.

    Last year our next door neighbour became very ill.  Her daughter had to place her in a nursing home.  That meant we would have a new neighbour.  One day when her daughter was there cleaning up her Mom's house she asked if we would be interested in purchasing her Mom's full sized piano.  Christopher's eyes became large.  He wanted that piano!  I did not!  I liked our little piano.  It fit it's little space perfectly.  Christopher began to harass, I mean explain why the large piano was better.  "There is no point in the kids learning to play a piano that did not have all of the keys!"  That was his first argument. "But I like our little piano".  There was no point, I knew it was all over, we would have the full sized piano.  I decided to play my last card, "If we can sell our piano, we can buy Pat's".  Agreed.  

Thankfully my stipulation proved a great bargaining chip for me.  I had no idea how difficult it is to sell a piano.  I was not sad about not selling our piano, or getting a much bigger one that would not fit into our tiny little house.  I was selling the piano for what we had paid for it, seems simple.  

    Everyone is talking about kijji.ca.  It's a free site that allows you to list items that you would like to sell.  It's pretty easy to set up.  The only thing we had close to an offer was someone who offered us less than half of what we were asking, and wanted delivery.  That was a NO, but perhaps I acted to quickly with my NO.  A year later, we still had my little adorable piano.  It looked like that was how it was going to stay, oh and I like that.  It allowed me to come out smelling like roses!  I was still the awesome wife who begrudgingly agreed to the new, much larger piano.  It was not my fault if people don't want to buy small adorable pianos.

    Last week our old neigbour's daughter was at the house.  She was finishing up the last bit of cleaning before they put the house up for sale.  She thanked me for keeping an eye on the house, and for being such a great neighbour to her mom.  I was humble, and told her that's just what neighbours did, no big deal.  It was around that time that my beautiful stroke of luck failed me.  "I know that you guys were wanting to buy the piano, but you had to sell yours first.  We would really like you to have it.  I know a local lady who would take your smaller piano, like a trade." she said.  My plan lay there on the floor, dead.  "Oh that is so kind of you, are you sure?"(please say no, please say no).  "It will just be nice to see Mom's piano being used!"  When Christopher came home he was over the top delighted, I was not!

    The big day came.  Christopher asked his bosses to help him move the piano.  I took the kids out to the park so that they would not be in the way (o.k. the truth is that my house was not as clean as it should have been to have Christopher's bosses see it.  It just pretended to be a nice lady and take the kids out so as to avoid embarrassment).  I came home from the park with three happy little kids, only to discover two pianos in my tiny living room, one of which stunk very, very much.  There really are no words to describe how bad the new piano stinks.  The closest I can come is take an antique that has been dosed in nicotine, and old urine, and a heavy dose of mildew... yup it smells that good!  So apparently the other lady had not been consulted, and by no way shape or form did she want our piano.  So now I have a piano that smells so much that it permeates through the entire house, leaving the living room uninhabitable.  I have a second adorable piano, that is on the other wall.  The kid's will only play the non-stinky piano.

    I poured vinegar into one cup and baking soda into another cup and placed them on top of the piano. I then took an entire box of dryer sheets and covered every spot of the piano with them.  The effect.... NONE!  Now I have to start the whole stupid Kijjii thing all over again!  Soooooo if anyone knows how to de-stink a piano, I could really use your help.  Also, if anyone is looking for a slightly used husband, he and the piano are available.

Grace's "Smelly Socks"

    Do you ever go to see a professional theatre production?  To me it is like being transported somewhere else.  The costumes, the backdrops and the actors!  You see those people stand there and sing.  Sing is not really the correct word for what they do, but I do not know what you could call what they do.  It's like saying that Lance Armstrong rides a bike pretty good.  To me this point was truly made when I took Grace to see her very first Mirvish show, Little House On The Prairie.  The year before for Christmas we had purchased the first season of Little House On The Prairie on DVD for Grace's Christmas gift.  I had found out that Little House On The Prairie had been made into a musical, and was starring the original "Half Pint", Melissa Gilbert.  We were so excited.  What made it all the more special was that it was just Grace and I.  What became very obvious that day is that the stage actors and actress are very different than other actors.  Melissa Gilbert had a lovely singing voice, but she could not sing from the tips of her toes like the other actors.  I felt so badly for her.  I wondered if she knew how out of her league she was.  My first instinct is to say that stage actors have a gift, but the reality is that they have worked hard to hone their skills.  God may have blessed them with a nice singing voice, but it took years of teaching and practice to achieve the power behind that voice.

    When Grace auditioned for "Munch Tales" for the Young Stirling Festival Theatre I knew that I would be spending a lot of time in my car driving her back and forth to Stirling.  My imagination did not prepare me for the tedium of it.  On one of the many trips I was moaning in my head, when it suddenly occurred to me, those amazing stage actors began here! Many of  those people with the amazing talent began their careers at theatres such as the Stirling Festival Theatre.  It was here they learned to take direction from their director.  It was here they learned to thicken their skins and pull up their socks in the audition process.  It was here they learned about lighting and where to stand, how to make their voice carry to the back of theatre.

    When you go and purchase a ticket to see youth theatre, you not only get entertainment, you get to see the stars of tomorrow.  The cost for all of the seats at the Stirling Festival Theatre for "Munch Tales On Stage" is only $8.00.  Imagine being able to boast to people that you had seen Meryl Streep before she was "Meryl Streep".  One of the kids in this cast could very well grow up to be an actor that you will see on the big stage or in movies.  August 7 at 11:00, August 8 at 11:00 and August 9 at 2:00 and then again at 7:00 you have an opportunity to witness The Stirling Festival Theatre's Young Company.  There is original music and even a play that has been written by one of the cast members, oh yeah, and you can see my Grace make her stage debut.

    For more information about the Stirling Festival Theatre, or to purchase your tickets to see "Munch Tales on Stage", go to stirlingfestivaltheatre.com

Reklaw Farms - Community Supported Agriculture

This is taken from reklawfarmcsa.blogspot.com

    As promised, here is more information about the Walker's farm (remember yesterday's "Hunt's / Walker's Corn".)  As anyone who is a regular reader of mine, you know how I feel about whole foods. If we could afford to do so, I would only feed my family organic whole foods, that we had purchased locally.  I think that it is really important to know where your food comes from.  There is also something to to be said for eating what your local farmer feeds to his/ her children.  It just stands to reason that he / she is only going to feed his / her family the very best, therefore feeding your family the very best!

    Yesterday I was discussing my addiction to corn.  I also shared that in speaking to Verna Walker, I discovered that her family was transitioning to Hunt's corn.  She had mentioned their "Community Supported Agriculture".  I was intrigued.  The way this system works is that you essentially buy a share in the farmer's stock.  You gamble what they gamble, but without the back breaking work.  You purchase a share, and in return, at harvest time, your share is returned in produce.  I LOVE this concept.  

    I am by nature a super lazy person.  I love the "idea" of my own vegetable garden.  I have in years past planted said garden.  In the late spring I am super excited about all of the amazing vegetables I will produce.  I was super excited to see the little seedlings struggling through the earth.  I would water them religiously, until that is I became bored with it, which was within the first month.  I am lazy!

I really love the idea of feeding my family fresh, from the earth produce, I just don't care for all of the work required in doing so.

    You may be asking yourself, why would I buy a share in a farm, when I can just as easily go to my grocery store and buy my produce for the same price?  Good question.  How do you think that produce got to the grocery store?  How many trucks did those carrots ride in before arriving at your home?  When were those carrots picked?  For that matter, where were they grown?  Not all countries use such strict pesticide policies as ours.  When we were in Florida and picked oranges, this question about what I was feeding my family became more pronounced.  On our family trip to Florida, we stopped to pick Oranges at an Organic Citrus Grove.  The oranges we picked were not orange, but mottled with orange and browns and greens.  They were the most delicious, most juiciest oranges I had ever in my life tasted.  The oranges that we purchase in the stores have essentially been painted orange to make them more attractive.  Who knew that?  Apples are coated in red tinted wax to help them to look more attractive, and to give them a longer life.  Do you see my point?  These fruits are still really good for you, I'm not saying that they are not.  I am saying why would you want these unnecessary extras in your food?

     The other important reason to purchase directly from your local farmer, is really a very simple reason... taste.  Fresh tastes so much better.  A potato that has just been dug that day, or better yet within the hour of eating it, tastes night and day different from that same potato two days later.  The tastes are more pronounced.  The other part of that is the fresher the produce is, the better that it is for you.  If you think about vegetables as living things, which they are, then as soon as you pick them they are beginning to die.  Every minute off the vine / plant  they loose their nutrients. We eat vegetables for their taste, and their nutrients... so fresh is best!

    I realize that I am sounding a little preachy, o.k. a lot preachy.  I just really feel strongly that we need to support our local farmers.  Without farmers we don't have food!  So many farmers are no longer able to just farm.  They have to farm, and have a second job to support their families.  It seems criminal that these hard working people should have do this.

    My family plans to purchase a share in Reklaw Farms this winter.  Last year the cost of a share was $500.00.  The $500.00 entitles you to 16 weeks of produce.  That is only $31.25 a week!  Shares must be purchased by April.  That is perfect, because it is in line with our income tax rebate.  Come the summer it will feel like we are receiving free baskets of produce every week ( feel like free because it will have been ages ago that we purchased our share).  The Walkers do not use chemicals or pesticides on their garden.  Instead they plant heirloom, hardy plants that have stood the test of time.  For a mere $31.25 I will be feeding my family good whole foods, that contain no pesticides of chemicals.  The bonus is that it will feel like Christmas every week for 13 weeks!

    To find out information about Reklaw Farms go to their website and take a peek for yourself, 

or visit Verna's own blog.

reklawfarm.wix.com

reklawfarmcsa.blogspot.com

Hunt's / Walker's Corn

    In the cold of winter I dream of corn.  Corn is one of my addictions.  In the winter months when I can find corn I make do.  I add a table spoon of sugar, and a quarter of a cup of milk to the water I boil it in.  It improves the lackluster taste, but it does not recreate Hunt's corn in the summer.  There are many farmer's selling corn, and they are good enough, but they are no Hunts, oh no they are no Hunts.

    Come mid July, I begin to eagerly anticipate the arrival of that beautiful  bright yellow shed.  That shed signifies the beginning of corn season.  When I see that yellow shed I begin to get the sweats (like they describe junkies on TLC's Intervention).  My mouth begins to water ( I know I have problems.  I mean I don't drink, I don't smoke, I just Jones for Hunt's corn).  I begin my fantasies of corn bathed in butter, lightly dusted with salt and pepper... ohhhhhhhhhhhh.  

    We have been going to Hunt's corn for as long as I can remember (that's not necessarily a long time, I have really pathetic long term memory).  I have been fooled a few times, enough times that I have learned a valuable lesson.  Sometimes you will see corn for sale, fill a bag for $2.00.  Guess what, you get what you pay for!  Hunt's corn seems to be a special type of sweet corn, because no one else sells anything like it.  I remember a few years ago my mother-in-law came to stay with us for a few days.  She is former farm girl (when she was a girl her parent's farmed).  She loves corn on the cob! For years we have told her about Hunt's corn, and that it is the world's best.  She gave us that little "poor little idiots", smile.  You know that smile akin to "whatever you say sweet heart".  Upon finishing her tenth cob (o.k. I'm not certain it was really ten.  Ten sounds better for dramatic effect, it was probably really more like two), she declared "This is the best corn I have ever eaten!".  I then got that "I told you so" smile, akin to "IN YOUR FACE, IN YOUR FACE", and told her I was glad she had enjoyed it.

    The bright little yellow shed has been sitting at the side of the road, teasing me for a while.  Last week Christopher came home from work and told me that "Hunt's Corn is open!!!!!!!"  I then berated him and asked why he hadn't brought any home.  Every single day for the last week we have been eating fresh beautiful corn!  I am in heaven.  If heaven exists, I am pretty sure that there are mountains of sweet corn, and rivers of butter to dip it in.  I know... I have a problem.

I make several different butters for corn.
This one is fresh chives,  parsley and dill, mixed with salt and pepper.
 I also mix powdered barbecue rub into the butter.

    Today I went to buy the corn.  In the bright little shed was not a member of the Hunt family, but a very nice lady named Verna Walker.  Verna told me that they were transitioning ownership.  My first instinct was "but only the Hunt's know the secret magical seeds".  I then gave my head a shake when Verna told me that they had grown the corn on their own farm.  I remember that I had been eating the corn for a week now, and was still very much in love with it.  Denny Hunt had helped them pick out the corn, and recommended a number of things to help their corn business.  I then exhaled knowing I was in good hands.

    Verna, her husband Will, and their three kids run their family farm, Reklaw Farm.  I was telling her how much I enjoy fresh straight from the farm produce, but was too lazy to plant and maintain my own garden (too lazy is really being too kind to myself.  I would not last two minutes in the Amish community).  Verna was telling me about their community garden.  I was intrigued.  I could pay into their farm, and receive a "share" of the harvest, all while sitting on my lazy butt!  I LOVE THIS CONCEPT!  

  I went to the Hasting's Harvest website, and copied this information for you about Reklaw Farm.  It makes excellent sense.  I will find out some more information from Verna, and report back to you.  In the mean time, if you find yourself in the Tweed area, go and buy the world's greatest corn (they are right across from the Tim Horton's, you can't miss it)!  If you are not in our area, do yourself a favour and go seek out a local farmer for your needs.  For those of you who only buy from your grocery store produce isle, you are in for a really great treat.  Food tastes so much better when it is straight from the ground.  You know what they say "Farmer's Feed Cities", "If you ate today, thank a farmer".

Reklaw Farm Community Supported Agriculture

Know your farmer

 You have a dentist to care for you teeth and a family physician to care for your health. Do you have a farmer to provide local healthy produce  for you and your family? If you are concerned about what you are eating the first step is to, know your farmer.

Community Supported Agriculture is a community of individuals that pledge support to a local farmer. In return the farmer grows vegetables and or meat products to be distributed to its supporters. Many supporters of CSA are concerned with food safety. Shares are purchased at the beginning of the growing season. Clients receive a weekly basket of the freshest vegetables. The client and farmer share the rewards as well as the risks.  There are things out of the farmers control such as extreme weather and pest infestations. We will endeavor to grow a variety of vegetables from early June to early October. We will do as much as we can to ensure a bountiful harvest.

We would like to be your farmer.

Full shares will feed a family of four. Half shares will feed a couple or a single person that eats a lot of vegetables. Some vegetables our clients enjoyed last year are:  lettuce, spinach, kale,cabbage, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, melons,zucchini, squash, potatoes,broccoli,radishes, carrots, onions, parsnip,kohlrabi, leeks, celery, swiss chard, peas, beans.

Pick up at the farm will be on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the early evening. Local delivery will be available for $5.00 per week.

We do not use pesticides or chemical fertilizers. We instead use crop rotation, row covers, and hand weeding.

We will also be offering pasture  raised chicken, pork and turkey  this year.

This summer will be very exciting for us for another reason. We are going to be growing sweet corn. Our sweet corn will be available at various corn huts in the area. We will also have wholesale sweet corn. So if you are thinking about having a corn roast this summer give us a call ahead of time for wholesale pricing.

Lastly we have a growing herd of Irish Dexter cattle.

Our Tree Frog... so much better than a bat in the face.

    So this was supposed to be yesterday's blog.  I will say, that I much prefer dealing with adorable frogs, over bats flying in my face.  Frogs are so much nicer that bats!

    Last week we kept hearing the strangest noise whenever we were on the deck.  I kept trying to decide if it was an unknown bird, or a squirrel, or who knows what.  I kept walking all over the deck, straining my ears trying to find the noise.  

    A few days ago my parents were over and my Mom was walking around carrying the cutest little grey frog around.  "It's a tree frog!" Mom exclaimed.  I have to admit I wanted to yank it out of her hands.  I love frogs!  Frogs bring out my inner child.  I have been known to chase them around, trying to catch them.  I'm not proud of my childishness, nor am I ashamed of it.  I think that my kids may tend to be a little embarrassed  about their middle aged mother making dives in the grass for frogs.

    Apparently the adorable little tree frog had some how gotten itself trapped in the kids outdoor toy bucket, and they had rescued it (thus my mother walking around holding a little frog).  I will admit, I did not expect to see tree frogs on my deck, or for that matter in town.  It was like a little gift (remember the part of my story where I told you I was childish).

    Last night I heard the same strange noise on my deck.  What was it?  I walked around trying to figure it out.  On a chance I happened to look in the big yellow toy bucket.... mystery solved. It turns out that tree frogs when in distress (or trapped in a toy bucket), make a weird noise, like a cross between a demented bird and an angry squirrel.  I nearly crushed the poor little thing trying to rescue it.  

   So if you by chance hear a weird noise on your deck that you cannot quite put your finger on, you know a cross between a demented bird and an angry squirrel, it might just be a tree frog trapped in a toy bin... you're welcome!

Another Stinking Bat In The HOUSE!

    I lay awake in bed last night thinking about today's blog.  I thought I might write about the adorable little tree frog we found.  I lay there thinking about what I would write.  I then began to read my book.  For a while now lots of lady's that I know have been telling me that I have to read "Outlander", and warned me that  I would not be able to put it down.  I began reading Outlander, and as predicted I have become addicted.  So it was pretty late last night when my eyes began to droop.  I turned out the light.  I had only just turned out the light, when my bladder yelled at me.  I stood up, turned the light back on, and then I heard the strangest noise.  It sounded like it came from the wall.  It was a flapping noise, then I looked up.  It was a frigging bat (I did not think "frigging", I thought another word that starts with "F", but is decidedly unfamily oriented.).  I then jumped in bed, pulled the covers over my head, and started punching my sleeping husband and screaming.
    My husband has been working a lot lately.  People are dying left and right, and they all choose to die early in the mornings for some reason (just a little black funeral director humour for you).  My poor exhausted husband had been in a deep sleep just before my screaming and punching woke him.  I think I might have been screaming "bat", but there is a really good chance I was screaming gibberish.  During this time, that stupid bat is still circling around my room, like something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie.  At this point my husband who is not great in a crisis situation to begin with jumps out of the bed all disoriented, when he realizes what I have been screaming about.  He then begins to shout obscenities.
    All the while my husband is spazing out, I am shouting things at him from under my covers.  THANK GOD I had pulled the covers over my head, because it was shortly after that the bat landed on my face.  This set Christopher over the edge (I did not much care for it myself).  He is still at this point really disoriented and he starts shouting "It's on your face, it's on your face!"  I know it's on my face, I can see it's silhouette through my quilt.  So today I can see that it would have been really funny.  It was not unlike the scene in Christmas Vacation where Chevy Chase is running around with the squirrel on his back.  So I have a bat on my face, and a husband who is acting like he might be on drugs (for the record he's not on drugs... well I don't think).  I am waiting for my husband in his panic to hit me in the face with a tennis racket in an effort to kill that bat.  I am waiting for it to come, and yet powerless to stop it, it is at that point that I begin to pray.  I'm not sure if I was praying that bat wouldn't eat my face, or that my husband wouldn't rearrange my face.
    I think I should at this point in the story share with you that my husband is quite tall.  At 6 feet 4 inches, he  is not all that far from the top of the ceiling where our unwanted guest is flapping around.  At some point the bat flew off my face.  Christopher started yelling "Where did it go?"  At that point I pulled my head out from underneath the covers, only to discover that apparently the bat that was sitting on my face had pooped on my quilt, and that said poop was now on my face.  I decided to brave the bat attack and scrub my face until there was no skin left.  When I was satisfactorily disinfected, I ran like they do in horror films back into my room.  I then shoved my husband with all my strength out of our room and shut the door.  "What if the bat is still in our room?" he asked through the closed door.  ""You'll know because of my frantic screaming!  Now catch that frigging bat!" (I didn't say frigging.  For that matter I said quite a bit of that bad "F" word that night).
    I sat bolt upright in my room, listening for the "caught it!"  I felt like if I just sat there bolt upright, it might give me super human hearing.  There was profuse swearing.  Christopher shouted words that I did not even know existed, and strung together other words that I did know even went together.  After what seemed like hours, my husband staggered into our bedroom.  He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and looked like he had just been in a war.  "I caught it, and you'll be happy to know I released it outside!"  He then fell into the bed, and fell instantly asleep.  I was too wired.  I picked up my book again, listing the whole time for more bat attacks.
    I don't know how those stupid bats are getting into the house, but by the God, I will (what that really means is that Christopher will, because one bat sitting on my face is good enough for a life time).   It turns out that bats are great outside, they eat thousands of mosquitos.  In the house... not so awesome!

Conquering Shyness - Grace's Play

    I love summer.  I do not love summer because of the heat, I hate hot weather.  I love summer because it means no routine.  I do not have an alarm clock to get up to.  I can spend quality time with my kids.  During the summer we do fun things, and many of them are actually educational.  We learn about something and then we take a field trip to see it.  Summer is nice, summer is relaxing.... this summer is NOT!

    It all began in April when a nice boy that Grace knows invited her to come with him and his mom and brother to see a children's production of Cinderella at the Stirling Festival Theatre.  Gracie came home flushed with excitement waving a sheet of paper around.  "I want to audition!" she squealed.  "Mom, Dad, can I audition?", "Yes" we said.  After all of that was out of the way she went on to tell us how great of a time she had, and how much she had enjoyed the show.  Everyday after that she would ask me, "Have you called the Stirling Festival Theatre yet?".  Let me just tell you that "Are we THERE YET?" pales in comparison to several times a day "Have you called yet?"  Everyday "Yes, I called, they will call when the audition time are set."  That was then followed by a variation of the first "Have THEY called yet?"  There are no words to describe how very delighted I was to receive an email from the director telling me that they were now booking auditions.   

    I know that I have shared this before, but it I think I should share it again.  I am amazed how far my little girl has come.  For the first 6 years of school she barely said a word to anyone.  She was a very anxious child, always.  When we had our car accident when she was three, she was trapped in a car for hours in the freezing cold surrounded by strangers trying to save her big brother's life.  Strangers had to cut her out of the car after several hours, and only after Gabe had been rushed away by ambulance. It was then a week before she saw her parents again, and a week after Gabe's funeral that she really saw us again.  It was almost as if all of this proved to her that she should be afraid of the world.  I spent my time trying to gently nudge her out of her comfort zone, trying to prove to her that the world is really a nice place, not so scary.  The worst part of all of this was that she was a extravert trapped in an introvert's body.  It was almost like a prison for her.  You could see in her eyes that she would so desperately like to be the centre of attention, but that introvert kept telling her she needed to be afraid.
    A few years ago I found out that our local arts council was sponsoring a theatre camp.  This camp was being run by a young man who had been trained in theatre.  I thought that this was perfect for her.  She was afraid.  She so desperately wanted to go, but was so anxious.  In the end I signed her up, and told her that if she didn't like it after the first lesson, she would not have to go back.  I reminded her how important it is to do things that scare us, because then we learn how to live without fear.  When we entered the room we were greeted by this young curly haired man with a huge infectious smile, and I knew that we had done that right thing for Grace.  She came home from that first lesson in love with theatre, and we all fell in love with Tim Porter, the young curly haired man who helped to bring our butterfly out of her cocoon.   She transformed herself that first class.  She went from not being able to make herself talk to Tim, to at the end doing a small solo singing part.
    That first class gave Grace the knowledge that she could do what she loved, and that it was o.k..  She mastered her shyness, well enough that she could allow that extravert to come out and play occasionally.  It was shortly after that she asked if she could audition for YTV's "The Next Star"
 (Canada's children's American Idol).  My answer, "YES!".  We left our house at 4 a.m. to get a place in line for the auditions.  We waited with thousands of other children and their parents outside in the cold. She had been practicing her audition piece for weeks, and was ready.  She went down that escalator all alone, looking like she was going to vomit, to audition for the show.  I stood watching my little girl go down that escalator, barely able to see her for my tears.  I was so proud of what she had conquered.  After that there was no stopping her.  She auditioned for her school talent show, and made it.  She from there was asked to sing the national anthem for our community's Canada Day, and she was amazing!  Grace has kicked that cocoon to the curb, and is trying to embrace her new wings.
    When Grace asked if she could audition, how could we not say yes.  I knew that if she made it I would be sacrificing our summer to her, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make, and would make up to the other kids.  I not so secretly hoped that she would choke at her audition.  She would have an excellent experience, but at the same point she could learn from it, and grow from it.  Unfortunately for me, and extremely fortunately for her, she made it.  Not only did she make it, but she received the part that she auditioned for!  I now stuff the three other kids into the van to drive Grace to Stirling, and then to go and pick her up.  We spend two hours a day in the car.  So far the three kids have been for the most part gracious about our trips.  I have bribed them with treats along the way.  To me it is worth the sacrifice (I may have to pay for some counseling for the other three later).
    Every day Grace comes home so excited about her new friends, her play and the nice director.  We are inching ever closer to her performance.  Everyone is asking us to get them tickets for the shows.  Everyone is proud of Grace and excited to watch her unfurl her wings.  I don't know if this is Grace's path forever, but it is a wonder path for right now, and if she continues on this path, I think that she will shine.

    My summer does not look anything like I envisioned it when the snow was melting and I looked dreamily to the future.  My summer has routine.  I am still trying to decide how to better use what little time I have in the day.  It's worth the sacrifice.  We will all have more summers.  This is an opportunity that is too important for Grace to miss.  We are so excited to watch her up there on the stage, although I am pretty sure that I will barely be able to see her for tears.

    If you would like to find out more about the Stirling Festival Theatre, or would like to purchase your own tickets to see our little rising star, you might be interested in this link...

stirlingfestivaltheatre.com

Outdoor Movies - The Night We Were Almost Eaten Alive

    My husband is the love of my life, but he is not a man to be easily persuaded. Case in point, we have lived in our house for 11 years now.  From year 2 of living in our house I tried to persuade my husband that we should buy a pool.  He listed all of the reason's it was a terrible idea.  Summer after summer we sweated until I thought we would die.  Four years ago, I think I threatened divorce if we did not get a pool.  We bought one of those non-permanent pools that you put together every year and fill with water.  It's about 4 feet deep and 15 feet in diameter.  It's perfect for us.  The funniest thing of all is that the man who fought the pool the hardest is the one who uses it the most, and loves it the most.  So you might think that this would be a lesson to my dear sweet husband that I am always right, but he still fights me tooth and nail on everything.

    After we had the pool, I started my campaign for a projector.  It was once again a hard sell.  I had visions of us sitting outside, bonding and making life long memories.  In my head we would all laugh, and everyone we knew would be jealous of us.  The kid's would invite friends over, life would be good.  Two years ago I think I may have threatened divorce and we bought a Sharper Image projector for a family Christmas gift.  I will be honest we went with cheaper Sharper Image projector instead or Epson projector that we should have gone with.  It was the difference between $100 and $700.  For a cheap machine, the Sharper Image one actually works pretty good for what we use it for.  

    Last summer was a beautiful blur of swimming, fires in our outdoor fireplace, and outdoor movies.  In other words it was a summer that we made beautiful memories.  This year has been the hottest, driest summer that I can ever remember.  We have gotten plenty of use of the pool.  There is a fire ban right now where we live, so we can't use the fire place.  It takes about half an hour to set the movie up. To a pair of really, really lazy people that is off putting.  

    We decided that a movie was worth the effort, we would have a movie.  Last night we were really smart and started setting our movie us just after dinner.  We were humming and happy, I was certain that we might just be the greatest parents in the world.  Nana and Papa were invited over.  We set up the chairs.  I spent half an hour making pop corn.  We selected "A Dolphin's Tale".  The kids were liberally sprayed with "Off", and mosquito coils were lit.  We were ready.  We each selected our spots, treats in hand.  I had my glass of wine in hand, ready for the movie.  

    After the last person was seated (it was me, it's always me), Christopher started the movie.  I should add that it is not just a "movie", Christopher sets up a surround sound system.  It generally takes a while to set everything up, but it is a great movie experience.  We are sitting, excitedly waiting for the movie to begin.  As we sat there, a plague of mosquitos desended upon us.  It was not just some mosquitos, it was of biblical proportions.  I honestly could barely see the movie screen for the literal cloud of mosquitos.  The kids were getting a pit paniced with all of the bites they were receiving.  Christopher kept telling them "but you're wearing off!"  One of the kids shouted out something like " You should tell that to the mosquitos that are biting me!"  I sat there, wine in hand, watching my beautiful summer memories being eaten alive, not unlike my children.  It was shortly after that that Grace announced she was going in.  Rowan quickly followed suite.  

I have never seen so many mosquitos in my entire life.  I gave up, I just surrendered.  "Let's go inside."  I proclaimeg, resisting the urge to kick something in temper.  I thought Christopher was going to cry.

    The end of the story goes something like this... we went into the air conditioned house and watched our movie, it was a good movie.  In the end we did make summer memories that will last forever, as perhaps will the scars that the kid's have given themselves from over scratching bites.  We will all remember, although not necessarily fondly the summer of 2012 where we had plagues of mosquitos, and did nothing outside at night.