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Tuesday, 23 June 2015

in dreams

Remember I posted a little while ago about signs from beyond?  There are many people who believe that our loved ones return to periodically inhabit wild life such as birds or the like or to leave things like feathers or dimes in random places for us to find.  I've seen a number of dimes around the house, but as dear Christopher is always leaving a little "trail" as he moves about the house, I can't be altogether sure that the dimes I'm finding are not just spare change that he's missed putting in his piggy bank. However, another 'sign' known to happen is for the loved one to speak in one's dreams, or even be the voice that you hear in your head when you're thinking of something or struggling with a decision. Prior to losing Dad, I was always more skeptical of any of these things, and I could easily find a more scientific explanation for 'unknown' happenings.  I have to admit, however, that I am now a lot more open to other possibilities, and have caught myself asking him to leave me a sign.

A few weeks ago I woke up crying. Crying from the dream that I had just had. It was one of those lazy Saturday mornings when you wake up, look at the time on the alarm clock, consider getting up but then roll over and go back to sleep again. A few times. And in between each perusal of the clock, dreaming in broken intervals. In my last broken dream, there were remote control aircraft everywhere. They were buzzing around my head, zooming in and out, back and forth. I was getting more and more irritated by the second. I walked down the hallway, glancing into a bedroom where I found Dad, sitting on the edge of the bed,  manning every one of the aircraft controls. He had a controller in each hand, one balancing in the crook of his elbow, shoulder and one in his lap. He looked up at me, glasses down on his nose, with a great big smile on his face, and said, "Hey babe! I'm just stopping in to let you know that I'm doing okay!"

Thank you, Dad. I needed that. More than you know.  Happy belated Father's Day in Heaven...xo.

Saturday, 9 May 2015

I want a change...

I graduated from university with a degree in English. I've always enjoyed writing, and I pride myself on having a keen eye for finding grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. I started this blog to help keep my writing skills up. To this day, I will sometimes read old posts and if I find an error I missed it makes me crazy and I fix it immediately - not that anyone else will likely see it. I was thrilled when Facebook came out with the 'edit' option for posts so errors there could be fixed, too. And yes, maaaaybe I'm slightly anal and on the verge of OCD, and ok, yeah, maybe a slight perfectionist.  Surely to God I could put those qualities to work for me though, right?

As of late, I've been really thinking hard about the path my life has taken. How I've stayed in a job that I feel doesn't allow me any type of personal growth whatsoever because it merely keeps a roof over our head and food on the table (but, at what cost?).  As I age, I'm routinely being reminded of the fragility of life and how quickly it can be pulled out from underneath us and I have to wonder if I need some change - some big change - in my life.  Change scares the shit out of me though. Sometimes the normal, mundane, boring routine is a comfort. Branching out into the unknown can lead to failure. But, it, too, could lead to the best life has to offer, right?  So, what am I waiting for?

Good question.

The thing is, I'm not sure how to make a change. Where do I start? I would love to put my English degree to work for me. Hell, if I could get paid to blog, I'd be thrilled. Last night, I attended a writing workshop. It was hosted by a local writing/editing duo who have celebrated many successes together doing what they love - writing and editing. They're an inspiration. I went away from that workshop with a smile on my face and a new hope that maybe, just maybe, some day I'll be comfortable leaving the constraints of the office world to freelance at what I love to do.  If there are any head hunters crawling through the interwebs searching for a sometimes witty (?), grammar-friendly individual who wants to write, or even edit or proofread, please, please, please get in touch :).

A big, huge shout-out to Jaime and Christine at Manley Mann Media for pointing out to me that there IS more to life than a call center world. You have no idea how much you've helped me!

Monday, 9 March 2015

You've gotta give me a sign...

Up until we lost Dad I hadn't really given much thought to messages 'from beyond'. In fact, I'd likely have been one of the ones trying to find a scientific explanation for the 'signs'.  Now, I want to believe - have to believe - that there's more to 'life' than our time here on Earth. I have to believe that someday, on some other plane or level, I will be reunited with Dad, and those others who have left this Earth too soon.  I wish for 'signs'; I look for signs. Sometimes, I think I wish too hard and I push them away.  I've had a few though...
  • Back in 2002 I worked at Watts Communications (just another call center). During a back-shift rotation I had gone to bed to take a nap ahead of having to start a week of midnight to 8am shifts. I lived with Tanya at the time. I felt someone poking my leg to wake me up. Upon waking I heard Tanya in the other room, blow drying her hair.  No one else was there. And I can say with one hundred percent certainty that it was not a part of a dream. I have always taken that as a sign from Dad that he was okay.
  • Just after Dad passed,  I was over at Mom's, and we were going through some old home movies that he had converted to VHS.  I was sitting on the floor by the TV.  On the wall in the living room (above my head where I was sitting) is an old clock that Mom & Dad got when they lived in Europe. It has weighted brass balls (exactly like the one pictured here: One of those balls shifted and I must have jumped two feet off the floor.  Despite Mom insisting that the ball hadn't been on it's anchor properly from the last time the clock was wound, I'm certain it was Dad telling us that he's always "there" - and, always the jokester, he'd definitely have gotten a kick over giving me a scare.
  • A few years ago, just around Christmas I was sitting on the couch. Zoe was in my lap, and Bosco was on the loveseat. Chris was in his office. The heat wasn't on (ie, no forced air blowing up from the vent behind the couch), and it being December, there was no window open, of course. I sat watching tv, and felt the gentlest tug on my hair - as though someone was running their fingers through it. Some might have gotten chills or shivers. I felt the calmest, warmest feeling wash over me.  He loved Christmas so much. I know it was my Christmas hug from him. No one can tell me different...
Have you gotten any "signs" from 'beyond'?  Tell me about them! We are not alone - I came across this article today, and I absolutely love it:

I'm sure there have been a few random dimes that have crossed my path that I didn't think much of...from now on, I'm going to be paying careful attention.  If he realized how grim the bank funds were he'd be tossing those suckers at me like a boss.  C'mon already Dad, toss a few down. Love you, and miss you...xoxo.

Tuesday, 9 September 2014

No I didn't. Yes you did.

The other day Chris remarked to me, "Knocked Up is on Netflix.  I started watching it this morning. It's pretty good!" 

I remarked, "You've seen it". 

"No, I didn't", he replied.

"Yes, you did", I insisted. 




"Yes. We went to the drive-in. I probably have the stub somewhere", I said. 

Not long after, my Facebook notifier announced that Chris had updated his status: "I'm watching Knocked Up on Netflix. I think it's a pretty funny movie - I'm pretty sure I haven't seen it before. Amber says we saw it at the drive in but no part of this movie is familiar to me. I think she went with the girls to the theater.  I think she's currently in the other room searching for the ticket stub to prove me wrong. Did you see Knocked Up with Amber? Or am I destined to be wrong?"

A futile search later,  I was left empty-handed. I know there's a stub somewhere.  During my search he poked his head in the room.  A cocky smirk on his face, wondering how I was getting along - certain I was looking for a stub that "didn't exist".  A shout out to my friend and loyal blog follower, Jodi, who commented that perhaps I'd blogged it. Brilliant!!  I start by using the handy-dandy "search" option on the blog. Nothing. Crap.  I KNEW I saw it just after it was released to theatres. Being together so frickin' long of course it had to be with Chris, right?  Then I thought, well, I suppose, maaaaybe it could have been another guy. So I google the year the movie was released. 2007. Ok, well it had to be Chris. Confirmed. I knew it was the drive-in, so I started in the month of July searching the archives, and lo and behold my boring mundane update post from July 22 had the key I was looking for:

Saved by the blog! Do you know he had the audacity to suggest I might have typed that up and pretended it was written in 2007? :O  Good thing he's cute!  So in addition to proving my undoubted rightness, I've also come to the conclusion of a very important discovery:   I should get back to blogging - it might help me win a few more arguments in the future!

Saturday, 21 June 2014

Cat Saturday

See?  Watching Zoe clean herself is more exciting that watching this season of the Bachelorette.

For my boring life in pictures, my IG profile is open.

I just don't think I can do it

To anyone that might have happened upon my blog in search of Bachelor/Bachelorette highlights, albeit, late ones, I apologize.  To those who read this blog for everything but Bachelor/Bachelorette highlights, come back, because I am going to try to post more often about my actual life.

I still don't feel a bit guilty that Juan Pablo didn't get any blog time. He's still a douche.  Upon a new season again, I started to give the rundown of the Andi season.  I have a post started in drafts and I think we're now on episode 4? I just can't bring myself to do it. My heart's not in it. I don't have any pull by any of the guys, save one.  And well, Andi... Andi clean drives me batshit crazy.  I thought I liked her in JP's season. I'm guessing now that JP's over-the-top douchebaggery made anyone else look better?  Now - having her be the 'star', I just wanna backhand her.  Her overuse of "Ya'll" (told ya didn't I?), and "Stop!!" make me wanna punch things.  And that Grumpy Cat look she gets on her face when she's concentrating on something someone is saying to her, with the quick and frequent, "Mmm hmms"... And don't get me STARTED on the whining and the hormonal crying spasms.

Sorry. I just can't do it.  I don't care who she ends up with. I hope she ends up happy, because I truly don't wish anyone any ill will. I'm just not sure I can give the show the attention it deserves to pop out a highlight reel on a weekly basis.  Maybe this is a sign that I oughta dust off this blog for what I had originally intended it to be - an outlet to improve my writing skills; a journal of sorts to remember some of the important times in my life that is passing me by so quickly?  

Back to go try to finish off this episode. I've paused it and done so many things in between, including instagramming my cat, that I may never get through it.

Happy Saturday :)

Tuesday, 10 June 2014

A loss so profound...

Last Thursday morning, I walked toward my car to go to work and was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sadness as I thought about how easy it is to take for granted the freedom we have with the simplest of things such as being able to leave the house and go about daily life without fear, or looking over one's shoulder. I thought about my neighbors next door in Moncton who were, at the time, locked into their houses with strict instructions to stay inside, doors and windows locked, and retreat to their basements for safety.  A manhunt was ongoing to locate, and capture, an individual who had opened fire in a residential area. His target was the police. And he succeeded in his quest - slaying 3 members, and injuring 2 more.  The shooter managed to evade capture, and heighten fear, for nearly 30 hours until he was successfully and quietly detained by law enforcement without further injury to anyone else.  I'm not going to talk about the shooter. I'm not going to mention his name. I'm not going to glorify him in any way, shape, or form. Suffice it to say he will get his comeuppance.  And it will be just.   

After 30 hours the fear that had gripped a community, a province, a region, was replaced by unimaginable grief and sadness felt by an entire country.  Fallen, in the line of duty, were three members of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.  Three fathers.  Three sons.  Three husbands.  Three friends.  Three heroes...murdered at the exact moment they were running in to protect...

I will name them:
Cst. Douglas James Larche, 40, married, and father to 3 girls, ages 4, 8 & 9 years.
Cst. Dave Ross, 32, married, father to 1 1/2 year old son,  and another baby due at the end of the summer.
Cst. Fabrice Georges Gevaudan, 45, married, stepfather to an 8 year old girl.


Words cannot convey the heaviness in my heart that I feel for the families and friends of these young men.  These brave individuals paid the ultimate sacrifice.  They volunteered their lives to serve and protect - to walk into the line of fire when the rest of the world runs away in fear.  Their loss signifies that the people who do protect our streets, and our cities and towns are not superhuman.  They are not invincible.  And now, they are just a memory.  Six children will grow up in a home without a father.  Three wives will sleep beside an empty space where their husband used to lay.  Countless friends and comrades will have a gap in their social circle that will never close again.

To the brave men and women who protect our cities, thank you.  To the family, friends, and comrades of the fallen officers, my deepest and most sincerest of condolences.  In the words of, Asst Commissioner Roger Brown, "Cst. Gevaudan; Cst. Ross; and, Cst. Larche, to your post.  Dismissed." 

Rest in peace.