Tuesday, December 10, 2013

3rd times the charm. food most needy and recognition. all rolled into one..

Not hard to believe that it's been almost another year since she wrote on the blog.   Seems a pattern has emerged..  and she isn't certain why she keeps doing this.. time just gets away..  not time.. live.. gets in the way.. Maybe she just doesn't have anything to write about.. oh.. but she days.. she just doesn't know how to get it down on paper.. or in this case.. on the computer. 

Maybe it's today that she needs to write.  the build of of things... It seems to happen every year about this time.. a big blow up of some sort.. things not going write.. life.. getting in the way.. .. 

She went to lunch today .. with a group of women she knows.. well not really went to lunch.. but did..  she made some items as did the others.. they got together.. talked, discussed.. and then ate.. with more talking and more discussing..  but then she was simply amazed..  at what??    The utter and complete single mindedness of the women as they began taking up empty plates and piling them high again, with the left over food.. to take it home, for themselves to have another meal.  Some really needed it.. a few who couldn't cook for themselves.  some who just didn't have the energy due to illnesses to be able to fix a dinner.. this would at least tide them over till the next day..  A couple with handicaps that wouldn't allow them to fix a dinner at all..   but the most surprising where the younger group. (none all that young) who just took the food.. oh they asked first.. but then.. in thanking the person for allowing them to take another plate, it wasn't for someone else to enjoy.. it was for them.. so they didn't have to leave their house to get food so they could continue to work on items for their business to make money..  All she could think of was.. selfish..  totally and completely and utterly selfish.. 

and then.. after that was said and done.. she had a conversation with someone else and asked about how things were done at a resent presentation.. why certain people got awards and others didn't.. the final verdict was.. because of the final academic mark given on a final test..  Had nothing to do with the student.. and how they performed for the school during the course of the year.. but on the final mark.. and while I guess the final mark does reflect on the school, maybe the child just doesn't do well on exams but excels in the practical real world portion of work.    but.. it doesn't matter.. the parting works she heard were..  Well .. she knows how good she is...  but that really isn't the point.. sometimes the recognition makes all the difference in the world.. ..

So she cried on the way home.. she thought about how utterly alone she felt in her feelings on how the day went.. Nobody knew how she felt about the food situation.. maybe she should tell someone. . or maybe not..  Someone's response would be.. "oh that's just silly.  what would we do with the food anyway.".. maybe take it to someone who needs it more than we do.

and no one would understand how she felt about the student and the need for recognition..  maybe they would. but would it really matter..

She knows that the student will succeed.. regardless of where she has been.. she is totally focused on the future and the world that has opened up in front of her..  and she.. the author of this story.. is very thrilled by that..  


Sunday, December 30, 2012

She Stories: Once Again

She Stories: Once Again: Hahahahaha....  She has done it again.. waited a whole year to write on this blog.. once again..  she didn't realize.. she didn't check.. To...

Once Again

Hahahahaha....  She has done it again.. waited a whole year to write on this blog.. once again..  she didn't realize.. she didn't check.. Too busy??  Kids, Schools, PTA's, Work..??  what kept her from writing.  She really didn't have a clue.. 5 minutes, she says to herself.. ok.. maybe 15... take 15 minutes everyday.. no .. to much time.. once a weeks.. every 7 days.. ok..maybe doable..  sit down and just write.   about what, she asks herself..  Life.. she says back..  Life.. 

Friday, December 23, 2011

A long year

She didn't realize it had been so long.  A year since anything had been written.   Maybe, she thought, that she just hadn't really had anything to say, or maybe she was just to buys to write. She does remember sitting at the laptop, contemplating the meaning of things and wondering if she had anything to write.  She had looked at the blog, but really, she thinks, had likely decided it just wasn't worth the effort at the moment.  Or maybe just no time.

What a long year it had been.  Children to and fro, getting older, but not so old as to yet have flown the nest, even though they thought they should be allowed to.  Husband who was around more because of a job that let him stay home.  It was nice, much of the time.. but not all.  

and then she thought about her year..  Had it really been a year since she had written??  Ahhh.. she remembers now. The time management thing.  The having soo much more to do than she really should have been doing.  The pressures on her time were not her own or her familes for that matter.  People demanding things of her that kept her away from home and away from really being herself.  This program, that project..   


A New Year will start soon and she has made herself a new resolution, one she intends to keep.  Take more time for herself, her family.  Don't give freely of the time she has to anyone.  Write more, read more, do more living for herself and less for anyone else. (except her family).


She wishes it hadn't been a year.. she wishes she could get that year back.. well part of it anyway. 

Monday, December 27, 2010

Soup...

Sunday evenings at the family home people gather today, which is a tradition all over where she lives.  Since moving here many years ago, this has been the one constant in her life.  She hasn't gone every Sunday.  Life gets in the way, as it does.  Illness, other commitments, unscheduled events etc.  But of the soo many years she has lived her, been married and had children, Sunday Evenings have always been about family. 

Mostly it was to sit on the front gallery of the home or the back area, sipping whisky (the guys mainly).. beer or a soft drink and just chatting.  No eating, that big meal was consumed earlier in the day, so the need for anything later wasn't really there.  a few years back someone decided to start having food.  Not mass quantities, but small bites, dips and crackers, and things cooked in oil on an old coal pot over an open fire.  It was good and a good way to include more people.  a few years after that, someone said.."too much grease.. let's try a soup".. and the local soup bowl association was born.  Chicken, Steak, fish, exotic, traditional, soups, stews and stouwps are created, mainly by 2 of the brothers.  they sometimes on feed a handful and other times feed more than 20 people.   it's a labour of love.. so along with the whisky and rum drinks and beer and soft stuff , they drink soup.. and enjoy.. family.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

The Missing Brother

They gathered from around the globe this year, at the old home place.  Families getting together, all in one place.  this hadn't happened in a while, she recalled.  All but one was there.  He had gone from them a few years back, only long enough to still be missed in a terrible heart wrenching way.  They all missed him.  All.  Tears in the eyes kind of missed.  He wasn't her brother, but might as well have been.  Even though he had lived thousands of miles away, he was there.  When he returned, which happened every few years or so, it was if he had never been away. 

On the day they laid him in the ground, they raised their glass in toast. It was in respect of him that they did this.  He would have wanted drinks rather than tears.. he got both.  Not all were there that day, the oldest missing.  But not this day.  She watched, as they all came from their cars, trucks, jeeps and made their way to the family plot.  "Hello father, Hello mother, Hello Brother"..  Greetings came easy.  They stood for a moment, still not believing that this was part of their here and now.  The youngest offered small plastic cups,  mainly to the brothers and sisters who gathered.  and proceeded to pour "a wee dram".    She watched as they raised their cups.. "to our brother", they said.  and the youngest took the bottle, The Brothers favourite drink, and poured a "wee dram" on the grave.  Drink up brother, this is for you..

Friday, December 24, 2010

She Stories: Christmas...

She Stories: Christmas...: "The tree is in the middle of the main room of the house. It's been up since early December, decorated in it's finery, but looking a li..."