MY DAY OF REST

Today is Sunday. For me, it is my day of rest. That may seem like an old fashioned concept to some of you but I'm a believer in it.

But it is not something that comes naturally to me. I'm a multi-tasker and to stop - everything - at once - when there is so much to do - that is a tricky thing.

Right now, I could 
Be folding laundry that is waiting in the dryer.
Stripping a bed that needs to be washed
Should have done some yard work as it was pouring rain all day yesterday and today it was not.
Lawn needs mowing
Bought a 10lb peck of apples that need to be washed, cut and made  into applesauce.
There is also a pumpkin in need of cutting for Halloween and another waiting to be pureed for later use.

In fact, I could be doing a number of these things...right now....all at once!!!

But, I'm not. I'm forcing myself to take a day of rest.

So, instead I'm watching "The Lake House", bundled in a blanket and drinking green tea with honey. True, I'm multi-tasking a little as I'm doing this blog at the same time. But I think it is a small concession. 

So, why a day of rest? The obvious answer is above. I'm a busy girl and I could go like the energizer bunny every day. I need to slow down, even if I have to force myself to do it. 

I realize not everyone can have a day of rest on Sunday - so pick another day. A day where you say "nope. I'm not doing that. It can wait." Especially you antsy-pants types like me. You know who you are.

We live in a very busy world. A busy, fast-paced world that keeps getting faster. I suggest we all take a break!

BATH TIME!

Ahhh.....bath time. It falls into the same comfortable category as grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate milk, or lazy Sunday afternoons with a good book or movie. 

I don't take baths as often as I used to. Showers are so much more efficient in our day and age. You are in, you are out, hair and body washed - BAM. But last night (Friday night), I was tired and chilled so a bath and bed seemed like a good remedy. I had this bath fizzy bomb which had been kicking around for some time and  thought I would give it a try. It was a "Luscious Lavender" bath fizzie consisting of baking soda, cornstarch, citric acid, essential oils of lavender, orange, and dried lavender buds. So I dropped this big white puck in and it immediately started to fizz like Alka-Seltzer. It also released hundreds of those little dried lavender buds that looked suspiciously like bugs. I double checked twice before I hopped into the tub. The water was hot, slippery from the essential oil and I was soon covered in what looked like little bugs. I came out warm, smelling like lavender, and all oiled up! Needless to say, a tub cleaning was in order after that.

My tub is not conducive to a good soaking. It is an old basic rectangular shape that leaves you with your head crooked up uncomfortably. Now my last tub - that was a beauty. A lovely old 4-footed girl, big enough for two with a gentle sloping to accommodate your head and shoulders as you slid in, laid back and    relaxed. I miss her dearly. If I had a million dollars, as the song goes, I would buy me a new claw-foot tub, and renovate the bathroom to showcase her in. I would also be having myself a lot more baths! 

Ah well, you get what you get. My bath certainly did the trick and took the chill off. 

Winter is on the way in Canada: cold, relentlessly sunless, damp in Ontario and usually snowy. If you live in such a climate I hope you have access to a good old bath to warm you up. Try a bath fizzie or, for those of you that remember, "Mr.Bubbles" is always fun too. Baths are one of those things that comfort you, like grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate milk. I say, crank on the hot water tap and hop in!

FOOL FOR DANCING OR DANCING FOOL

Have you ever been a dancing fool? Or maybe you are just a fool for dancing. I have - guilty on both counts. 

I've always dabbled in dance to some degree. I attempted ballet as child, but that did not last long, nor did the money to pay for the lessons. So it was not until Grade 6 and I could FINALLY go to a school dance when I really started to shake what my mama gave me. Boy, did I have the time of my life. Did I know what I was doing? Nope - a dancing fool. But I kept watching American Bandstand after that and checking out all the moves, practicing in front of a mirror (this falls under fool for dancing category). 

Then I married a man who does not dance. So that meant no dancing for me. I circumvented this problem when in my early 40s I took ballroom with my 60ish year old mother. We did the cha-cha, the fox trot, the waltz and I don't know what under the watchful eye of Marek, our little (and I mean little) polish dance instructor. After a year of that I attempted to talk my husband into being my partner, thinking to myself, "Maybe he just does not feel comfortable on the dance floor and a few lessons under him would make him want to shake his booty." Sadly this did not work. I had a discussion with one of the girls at work.
Me-" I love dancing, but my husband does not dance so I never get a chance to. Whenever we are somewhere like a wedding and the dancing starts, he is ready to leave. Maybe he thinks I'm too sexy for my skirt (hahahaha)."
Co-worker - "Does he drink?"
Me- "nope"
Co-worker - "There's your problem."

Next up, another girl I work with talked me into taking a contemporary dance class. As usual, I'm years older than anyone else, a pattern of mine when I'm learning a new skill. So, for the next few years Kelly and I grabbed and groped each other as we twisted, jumped, somersaulted and carried on like banshees with terribly bruised knees. I had a ball, and I was dancing! Alas, age and a few medical concerns put an end to my contemporary career.

So, here we are and I'm definitely a fool for dancing. The only dancing I get to do is in my basement, alone, under the baleful eye of my cat. 
But I know I'm not alone!!! I know there are millions of you out there just like me dancing around in the basement, or in your bedroom or maybe out in the middle of the woods, all by yourself. 
I also know, cause I've seen them on occasion, there are many dancing fools out there on the dance floor, hopping and bopping and rocking the Kazbah. 

So let's Rock Around the Clock, Dancing Fools! Plug in your I-pod, crank the tunes and dance with me. I may not be able to see you, and you definitely won't be seeing me, but I know you are out there.....

GARDEN FOLLIES IN THE FALL

We have had some beautiful weather this week, the kind that makes you want Fall to last forever. There are times in each season that are achingly beautiful, and it was kind of like that.
It is a little early, but I thought I would get a head start on putting the garden to sleep. So I started to remove and cut down the perennials in the back yard.

One section of the jungle down! 

Now, I get to bag it all.

The garden still have a few gems left in in though. One of my rosebushes is still providing flowers.

But as I'm working on the perennials, one can't help but notice all the leaves that are landing on the yard....

And, if I look up, all the leaves that have yet to fall.

Alas, one of the drawbacks to living in a mature neighbourhood with lots of trees. It is worth it though. I'm a tree hugger at heart.

Finally, they will all be stored in my dilapidated shed in the back corner. Right now this shed is being occupied by one nasty, big, fat spider. She/he hangs in the opening and makes her wispy webs indicating "do not enter" over the front so I cautiously remove the webbings saying "sorry!!" out  loud so I can put the bagged leaves in there or slip by bike out. I know he/she is lurking somewhere nearby and you will notice my bike is only half  in the shed as I try not to disturb said spider as little as possible. Someone told me spiders jump.....great.....I suspect he/she is telling her minions of the irritating human who removes the webs and word is being spread throughout the region....

BELLEVILLE CULTURE DAYS

A city with a vibrant arts community is alive, colourful, and necessary. A city that hones and encourages music, art, dance and creativity in all its forms is balanced, healthy and growing.

This weekend my little town celebrated the arts with "Culture Days" with most of the down town area participating in one form or another.

The local market was a hub of activity, more so than usual! I went down myself to scoop up some fresh fruits and vegetables that shows the abundance of Canada.

All ages were out and about. Look at that little sweety in the hat buying apples! Speaking of apples, I bought a few of these bad boys myself.

YUM! YUM!

The downtown was cordoned off like a street festival with families taking in the festivities. We even spotted a water buffalo - don't see one of those in downtown Belleville very often. 

Sheldon and I stopped in a little french restaurant and picked up a cappuccino and almond croissant - a recommendation of the fella behind the counter. They bake croissants fresh only on Saturday mornings so you have to be up-n-attem if you want some. 

Later in the day I headed down to Dinkels, one of the local restaurants to meet with my Father and a few other local authors to talk about our babies, aka books, and meet with the public. To say it was quiet would be underestimating.....don't think anyone knew we were in there. So, I sat with my 78 year old father and 3 other guys, also well into their 60 or 70s and chewed the fat. I had a lovely glass of red wine. Finally another starving author showed up, a sweet young thing in his mid 30s. His book, "Act Like You've Been There" is chock full of helpful tidbits and advice. He took mine, I took his (we are talking books here people), and I packed up my stuff to walk home in the autumn sunshine.

Other than the book signing bust, I think Belleville's Culture Days were a success! The weather certainly smiled upon us, the citizens of my fair town, young and old, seemed to be enjoying themselves. Hopefully a few people considered the creative souls scattered throughout the area proudly showing their wares and talents and supported them in one form or another, so we can continue to grow and be community of culture.

The Beauty in the Lonely

The other day Sheldon and I were driving through town on our way to Band, or something. It was fairly dark out, just past the twilight hour.

As we drove along I looked into the windows of a donut shop. The shop was open but not a customer to be had. There was an employee just standing there, staring out the windows, watching the traffic go by. It was a quiet moment. He seemed lonely. But there was a beauty in it. A poignancy about it. I wondered if he had a radio going somewhere, keeping him company. Perhaps there was another employee hanging about but out of sight, cleaning up out back, prepping for the next day, counting cash from the register.

In many a movie we find these moments captured. The beautiful girl, making dinner by herself, the handsome young man staring at the TV, mindlessly flicking through channels. Of course, these two meet up eventually and the ying and yang of being along and being together is completed. 

There is a beauty to be found in the lonely. You have to feel it, embrace it, let it fill you up. It is in these quiet, alone moments that things can be heard. You may come to acknowledge a truth about a situation or yourself that you may have been avoiding. You may come to acknowledge a mistake, or a great victory that you misguidedly ignored. You may hear the still small voice of God, reminding you that you truly are never alone. I know these moments are much easier to cope with for the introvert than the extrovert. But they come upon us all, throughout our lives. 

I think there is a balance required. We need the lonely times and the community times. Too much of one or the other overloads us. I think it's important that your children, should you have any, are taught this as well. My kids always had a quiet time - each to their own room, whether a nap was required or not, to just spend time with themselves and as an added bonus  - Mom got a little break as well! It was mandatory up to the age of 6 or 7 and after that, they just did it themselves. 

If you are always in the company of others, I hope you can find some time to yourself and if you are all alone I hope you can find the beauty in it. I also hope you balance it out with seeking out friends and community where you can connect and love.

JOHN AND MORRIE

Last February I had a little trouble with Morrie's bow. You see when I'm finished playing I always loosen the strings and when it is time to play with Morrie, I tighten the strings. But something went amiss and I could not tighten the strings. I would turn and turn the little knob to no avail. My cello teacher, Linda, recommended a friend of hers named John. So my bow stayed behind to see John the cello doctor and I took home a spare.

John is a fascinating man. He is well into his 80s with big round blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, a smattering of white hair hanging in at the top, and a great accent - he sounds like the Count from Sesame Street (ah,ah,ah....). I was prepared for a hefty bill or perhaps the news that a new bow would be required. So when John called me I gritted my teeth for the bad news.

He told me my bow was ready to be picked up and gave me directions to his house. When I got there, his wife, a lovely little doll, was sitting in the corner with her walker nearby, just finishing her dinner. 

I wish I could make you hear his accent, but I can't so just try and imagine this being said by the Sesame Street Count.
Me: So, John, how much is it.
J: oh.....$20 should be fine.
Me, aghast, "Really??? Wow, that is great! thanks very much!!"
J;This is not a good bow.....I did what I could with it, but you might want to start saving your pennies for a new one....
Me: Ok, I will
J: You see, a good bow, is like breath to the soprano.
Me, laughing....
J: No, no, I mean it!!!
Me: Sorry, I believe you, it is just that you said it so beautifully.

That was my introduction to John. I fell in love with him almost immediately. Recently, Morrie had more trouble, this time a little more serious. The tuning pegs at the top had frozen and were immovable. So Morrie himself went in for surgery with John. I was truly prepared for a nasty bill this time but again, John surprised me.

J: I had to use gentle persuasion, tap,tap,tap here, a little tug there. Brute force will not work with a cello. I worked on it last night and on and off all day today.
Me: Thanks again John! So, how much do I owe you?
J: $30 
Me: Here, take $40! I see you added a new nub on the bottom of the pin(mine had broken off).
J: Yes, I used a cork from a bottle of County wine.
Me: Red or White?
J: I don't know, I just drank it!
We continued to chat a little about dogs and the County when I noticed a pen and ink drawing of the London Bridge on his wall. 
So I said: My daughter is now living in England, teaching.
John looks at me intently and deeply into my eyes and says: "And you are sitting at home, pining away."
Yup, he nailed it. Not only is John a genius with cellos, he is highly intuitive. 
Like I said, I fell in love with him almost immediately.