Summer is here.....So are the Guests!

Drip

Drip

Drip......

SPRAY.........

WHOOOSH!

The fans are blowing throughout the house.  It's not even 8 am and the heat is on.  Today is going to be a scorcher.  Today, I have three guest teens arriving for a couple of days to join Max and I in this bungalow of blazing glory......... two are from Columbia, so I'm not worried about how they can handle this weather.  But, the other youngin' is flying in from Iceland tonight!  Poor kid won't know what hit him! For the next two and a half days, we will be hosting them and helping them acclimatize to our part of Canada.  Look out beaches!  Here we come.

There are approximately 20 teens arriving from all over the world to attend a seminar camp run by the local CISV chapter (Children's International Summer Villages).  It is the same organization that ran the Village Max attended in Costa Rica last January.  But, this one is set up so that the Teens run it on their own.  There will be Mentors with them, but all activities, cooking, team building, interactive sessions, rules, scheduling, consensus building, conflict mediation etc etc..........all the components of group dynamics and living together will be led by the group.  They will be staying out at a local camp in cabins, on a lake......with all the facilities needed for a good time.  However, they won't be entertained, scheduled...... or directly led.  The leading is theirs to grab hold of.  

Because of the different cultures and languages, it will be challenged to figure out effective communication strategies, and their empathy and emotional literacy skills will be tested.  It will be difficult at first..........probably small groups will form based on personality and geographical similarities.  But, I guarantee that within a short amount of time, with the guidance of the CISV Leaders, all of whom have had experience with the organization and in group dynamics in some capacity, they will grow and stretch and learn and mature..........  And they will leave with new perspectives, and an understanding that in the greater scheme of things?  We are all the same under our skin.......below the surface.  Our hearts pump the same.  Our hearts feel the same things.

Sure, there will be personality clashes.... it kind of reminds me of Big Brother, but no one is going to get kicked off the campsite!  Guaranteed there will be a couple of misfits.  Chances are they will have at least one difficult personality in the group that may be suffering through their own homesick issues which may make their behaviour a testing ground for patience.  Let's hope there are a few outgoing ones who stir it up, make them laugh, know how to get along with anyone.  And I really hope for their sake that the chemistry amongst them all is one that enhances their gifts and cradles their weaknesses.  

Originally, I was supposed to have organized this 3 week camp.  But, I had to pull out last fall when I realized things were not great on the homefront and I had taken on enough outside of here to thoroughly tax my waning energy and wonky focus.  I'm grateful I did now, because I wouldn't have been able to lead it like I wanted to.  The timing just wasn't right.  This morning though, as I do the last minute things around the house and head out for a BIG grocery shop, and wonder how in the heck I'm going to keep this house cool enough for 5 hot bodies to live comfortably in until Friday (when the heatwave is supposed to die down!) I wish I was heading to the camp with them to watch the drama unfold.  And to be a part of it all.  

What I will get to observe and be a part of is the before and after.........oh, and a visit in the middle.  

Tomorrow is definately a beach day..............which one is up for grabs?  I'm voting for Parlee Beach.  But, I only have one vote...... so we'll see.   In the meantime, time to don my Hostess with the mostess hat, my camp counsellor enthusiasm, and get a move on!  I may have to teach them a thing or two about waterslides..... Or, I may be the one observing,  standing under the sprinkler cooling off.  Either way, I'll be there, learning too. If you're looking for me...........  Wish me luck.  :) 

poker face....nah!

Is there really such a thing as a neutral facial expression?  Is it possible to hide all of our emotions from another person?  If all it takes is one little cheek flutter, one speck of a face tic, one blink longer than the other, a lick of the lips, a downturned look, a quickening flush of colour.........just one of those finger on the nose movements to communicate that something is afoot, how can anyone boast about having a poker face? 

Stare into the eyes of another a little longer than you usually do, and the game is on to figure out the thoughts of another.  What are trying to convey?  Interest? Sexual desire? Are you trying to intimidate the other person?  If you turn them away too quickly, are you hiding something? Feeling uncomfortable? Lying? Or are you just taking a break and thinking about a response?

More times than not, we aren't even aware of our own message projections.  They become so much of our pattern of communicating, they spill out unthinkingly.  When was the last time you consciously thought about the messages you inadvertently passed on?  When was the last time you read the person's face talk and got it completely right??? 

The human interaction game has some rules, but retains a sense of puzzling mystery........ enough to keep us interested in playing because we all hold different cards based on our comfort level, our personalities, our skills and gifts.  It is fraught with underlying motives, layered in with a level of attraction,  repressed feelings, thoughts and past experiences.  Wounds from broken down attempts at connecting with another play a part too.  As do our past successes in smoothly going where no one else has penetrated before. 

Some people exude a sense of confidence, an attractiveness which acts like a magnet, pulling others into their space.  Do you know anyone like that?  Are you like that?? Charisma.  Energy. An alluring smile.  They are masters at the game of human interaction, moving from a flirtatious coyness to a determined yet friendly approach that can make someone else feel like they're the only person in the world that matters right then and there!  Fascinating!  Where do they learn this skill?  Is it an inherent thing, or do we learn through modelling and observing other's expressions as children?? Not one word need to be spoken, and yet the energy emanating between two people radiates with such an aura that it seems to be in colour.  

According to Eric Berne, the Transactual Analysis guru,  "games are a compromise between intimacy and keeping intimacy away...." The game of interaction holds many rules.....but it comes down to how close you want to be with another, and how close they want to be with you.  Sometimes it is a cat and mouse game...... I'm OK, You're Not OK.......  Sometimes it can be a mouse and cat game ..... I'm not OK, You're OK.  Sometimes the energy between two people is so repelling or perhaps the opposite, so electric that its too frightening to contemplate intimacy, and it turns into two bears vying for the same cave... I'm not OK, You're not OK.   

Ah, but then there are times when two people, under the right circumstances, in the right moodlight, with the right chemistry and with the ability to read the facial expressions, the body language, the intentions behind the game that they drop the pretences, relax and move into a place of spiritual intimacy that can only be considered a perfect match.  No more games......... Just an I'm OK, You're OK checkmate.  It's lovely when that happens........... 

Today's writing prompt from Sunday Scribblings is "games."  Though I do love a good game of cribbage, and have been known get all heated over a game of scrabble.......... the human race game is the one I prefer to play.  For more game playing interpretations, check out Sunday Scribblings.....

5 words....to make me think....

Tonight a meme from my beautiful friend Gypsy. She chose 5 words specifically for me to use as a jumping off point for some random thought scribbling. Its always interesting to see where your thoughts go in a writing exercise like this. You can easily narrow in on one itchy idea and go with that. But, if you take a step back a bit, the options on where your words will sail becomes a little more adventurous. I don't know yet where these words will lead, but I'm anxious to find out.... Lets see...

Regret.

Say it silently to yourself, or give it a voice and the word regret still has a taste of salty tears. Listen to it closely and you can hear it sigh remorsefully. Try to lift it and you feel the tugging burden of unresolved mistakes. Regret shackles you to the past and lurks like a stalker obsessed with impacting your present life.

Is there anything good about a little bit of wallowing in a puddle of regret? Well, the longer you stay in that perpetual rumination of blame and shame, the more you want to find the right key to unlock the shackles that bind and get the hell out of there. Perhaps regret in all its self-flagellation, is really a motivator to get unstuck from the moment?



Crazy....

My Psychiatrist told me I was crazy and I asked for a second opinion. So he said, "Ok, you're ugly too."

Badabing! yeah....it's not mine......it's as old as the hills. I stole that from Rodney Dangerfield. But it still makes me laugh.

So, what do I have to say about the word crazy? It's under-rated. Try it sometime. Just remember, there is a HUGE difference between being crazy and being a crazy maker. What's the difference???

Crazy is eccentric, unpredictable, kind of funny, a little outrageous, sort of lovable, RED, PURPLE and Shiny, spontaneously laughs out loud, lightheartedly responsible, motivated to embarrass her children in a crazy auntie kind of way, flirty and friendly, non intrusive, a happy dancing fool. Crazy carries quirkiness in her multi-coloured purse.

Crazy Makers are off balanced, obsessive compulsive , a little frightening, mind manipulators extraordinaire, award winning victims, people's space invaders, motivated by lustful jealousy, not aware of being crazy, always blaming others for misinterpreting their actions, folks with socio-pathological personality traits. Never in the wrong, they deny deny, deny.... Crazy makers carry mind mace in their black bag of endless tricks.

SEE? Big difference eh? So who would you want to share your Fruit Loops with?


Turn.

This week, it's been my turn to be sitting at a student's desk in a classroom listening to the teacher. OH.MY.GOD! I can't stand it!!!!! It is a mind numbing exercise in trying to remained focused on a talking head at the front of the class.

I'm taking a train the trainer course on Non Violent Crisis Intervention. By the end of the day tomorrow, I will not only be qualified to teach this course (believe me, I won't be jumping at the chance to do this as it is written in the instructor's manual) I will be able to restrain you............ legally. So, don't mess with me, unless of course you would LIKE me to restrain you.

Alive....

I don't know which way I'm going
I can't find it on my map....
seems like I get lost if I look too far ahead.
But I know it don't come easy,
life's supposed to be this way....
at least that's what my latest self help guru said.....

Gotta a compass in my pocket
and the sun to guide by day.
But when the lonely stars are out at night
Only love can point the way.

I don't know what I'm after
No answers in the wind.......
seems like its a never ending road of self reflection.
But I'm sick of gazing at this face
I see no beauty looking back,
why can't i simply accept those blatant imperfections?

I have no idea how this fits with the word alive, except that these are the words that just tumbled out of me..... so, well, there you go...........



Passion

Charismatically paradoxical, passion burns and delights. Like the heat of two bodies entwined in a hungry love tango, it simmers in endless longing. Unanchored, passion can force you down onto your knees as well as lift you up into the thin air beyond the clouds, beyond recognition. Whether it stimulates suffering through blind yearning or focused intent, passion has the potential to pump you with enough energetic adrenaline to transform your emotions into determined thoughts, which in turn can move you into action.

Passion can be good or evil, light or dark. It can bring joy or it can surround itself with sobbing sorrow. Unwilling to surrender to mediocre, it suffers fools gladly by consuming disbelievers. Passion has NO time for skeptics.

As much as it can be selfishly all encompassing and bring darkness to this world, it can also be a selflessly open-hearted expression of love. Passion radiates, frightens, motivates, inspires, stirs, refreshes, churns, shocks, delights. It is the central focal point where all emotions derive from, and return to when they need a boost. It makes us want to breathe more deeply, devour more hungrily, wrestle bears with more desire.

Passion has the panache of a flamenco dancer, the mystical faith of a seeker, and the freedom of a gypsy soul. Paradoxically, it has the light fingers of a pickpocket and can steal away your morals. It is what makes you feel crazy, it may even force you to turn your life in a different direction. It certainly wakes you up and makes your whole being feel more ALIVE.

Can it lead to regret? Only if it gets you in trouble. And if you cross that line, I may have to restrain you. I know how.


ps. thanks Gypsy. :)

rain reflections of camp.....

I had a short catch up kind of conversation with my daughter last night on the phone. She's busy at her camp in the counsellor in training program, and is having the time of her life. So much so, that I think she's almost oblivious of how crappy the weather has been all summer long.

We have yet to have a string of sunny days. The temperatures are cool. The skies have been grey. The land is soggy. It feels more like early spring except everything is so lush it looks juicy. The flowers in the garden are bent over in surrender, too damped down by the wet lashings that they havent the energy to spring to attention. Instead, the blooms cower in anticipation of another downpour.

I asked my daughter how bad it was there in dampcampland..... Upbeat and perky, she admitted that she doesn't have a dry towel left, but they were all coping with it. In fact, she had just been swimming in the river to clean up after sliding in the mud. "It was great Mom. We put our bathing suits on and ran around the camp looking for mudpuddles to slide in. We were coated in it! It was a blast!!" Fun? WOW!

After we said goodbye, she was off to the Lodge to hang out with the rest of the CIT's...no doubt in front of a big blazing fire in the old fieldstone fireplace. No doubt someone would have a guitar in hand. No doubt there would be wishes and dreams, and plans aromatically floating from their comfort of belonging. No doubt they would offer up their hopes and bits about themselves into the communal basket of growing kindredness. Relaxed, unhurried, content, my daughter and her friends sprawled out on the wooden floor of the old lodge in front of the fire most likely spent an evening of broadening their connections through conversations, cardgames, music, and comraderie. I could envision it like it was something I had experienced myself. Why? Because I have and those memories I hold dearly.

Rainy summers working at a children's camp conjure up very different nostalgic scenes than the hot sunny long hazy day ones. Regular activities are often swept aside for different open ended adventures where you learn to live within the elements and have fun. Mind over matter always wins! Though it was hard work to push past the expectations of sunny paddles and blue sky sailings, you learned different skills by recognizing that rainy days offer gifts of deeper friendships. If you let it happen.

I remember summers when the rain was unrelenting, when moods were attached to short fuses, when pushing through the elements took a lot of energy. Leaders couldn't whine no matter how consistently dour the skies were. They were the backbone of enthusiasm. But it would take its toll. When this happened.....when there was a shift to a sense of surrender, our number one much loved leader, Skip, would decide to change things up by allowing his staff to sleep in a bit and along with a couple of his senior staff, would take every single camper, usually 120 or so on a long rainy day hike. Sounds like drudgery doesn't it? Far from it!!! Those hikes were ADVENTURES.....SKIN SOAKING FUN.

But, here was the catch. While he entertained the troops....taking them through the woods, down untravelled paths, away into the mystery of the forrest to a long forgotten old logging road and a haunted house called Blagdon Manor ..... while he led them in songs and chants and quick stops to check out new fauna, the rest of the staff had the morning to stretch, work together drink coffee and plan. Why? Because when the troops returned, swampy, muddy, happy, hungry and a little played out, they would be expecting a full out camp experience like no other. Planning consisted of working as a team to conjure up a whole slew of activities, usually under a theme, and usually ending in a dance in Squamish Hall. So many of those fantastic days swim out of my memory bank this morning that I feel upbeat just remembering them.... Staff talent nights (always hilarious!), capture the flag marathons, water baseball in the rain, Skit nights, Indoor games.... Guys and Girls, Counsellor hunts, Kangaroo Courts.... and theme days!

One year, we turned the camp into a Pirate's Training Den. It all began while the kids, then clean, dry and finishing a hot hearty lunch when a group of Pirates sailed around the point, right onto the shores of Camp Kawabi...... We had decorated one of the old outboard boats, The Stable Mabel and turned it into a sailing vessel.... A group of the most "vicious" looking staff dressed in their very best pirate rags loudly announced their invasion. Within no time, the whole camp ran down to the lake to find out what was going on, only to realize they were all held capture, thrown into groups, given pirate family names and promptly introduced to the idea that in order to become pirates themselves, they had to pass a bunch of "matey" tests, which had been set up in various spots all over the camp. If they passed the tests, they would be given their own head scarf and eye patch (all created that morning by a busy bouyant group of leaders).

As the skies threatened above, we were able to ignore its menacing ways and band together in a day of fantasy and imagination. How cool is that? Fun? WOW! A rainy day..... and I bet it was one of the highlights of almost every single person, no matter what age, of their summer. Laughter and song shared with 150 people is hard to ever forget. I loved rainy day activities..... I loved finding those mudpuddles and showing my group of campers how to slide with glee. You can always get clean..... You can't always find the mudpuddles...

After a long energy spilling day, which always left everyone smiling in exhaustion, we'd tuck our campers in and head up to the lodge. In quiet small groups, we'd form around the fieldstone fireplace. No doubt someone had a guitar in hand. No doubt there were wishes and dreams, and plans aromatically floating from our comfort of belonging. No doubt we offered up our hopes and bits about ourselves into the communal basket of growing kindredness. Relaxed, unhurried, content, and closer than ever..... rainy days can do that.

Ah, I now want to go find Blagdon Manor again. And why do I all of sudden want to wrap a scarf around my head? Arrrrrrrrr..........matey.........

ps.... what do you know? I finished this piece and the sun came out.... for a little while. :)

snotty old solstice

Summer arrived yesterday bringing with it tree rustling winds and torrential sheets of rain which pelted down on the lush greenery. Far from the ideal blue sky warmth normally attributed to the longest day solstice, it arrived nonetheless. It has been raining on and off since Friday with no sign of it abating. No little cotton dresses or beach wear today. I'm dressed in a turtleneck and long pants on this the second day of SUMMER! Global warming, my ass!

I'm stuck inside with a wretched cold watching the US Open finals. I have watched more golf this weekend (always perfect for mid day snoozes when feels like their head is going to explode in a messy hum of mucus!) you'd think I live for the sport or something. Alas, the sofa is my friend as is the roll of toilet paper I have close by. I ran out of kleenex ages ago. Plus the T.P. is softer on the crusty red nose anyways.

You know, I came to the conclusion years ago that men are drawn to the drama of sport because it is an indirect way to emote. And, when it comes to the live commentary accompanying a golf tourney, you'd think you'd fallen into a world of touchy feely-ness. The music, the big non verbal arm flinging prima donna putters, and the sooth late night voices of the golf gurus.....even the commercials, most of which highlight the phallic love of cars, and the shiny shafts of "big bertha" drivers.....the pretty people booze parties after a round of 18 holes.....oh, and the handyman tools most of which resemble some sort of sexual device..... it all adds up to an emotional bowl of bogies.

But, if that's how some men find their weep trigger, well, good on 'em. Everyone needs an outlet. Me? I'm watching golf this weekend so I can find some ever elusive snooze time, under a bloody duvet no less! I want to go to the beach!!!!!!

Good thing The Fey is coming to visit. I could use a surge of blue faerie energy. This one's got chutzpah too, and she LOVES sunflowers. Check in tomorrow...... There's nothing like a feisty faerie who knows how to sport her wings brightly. Maybe she'll bring some antihistamine dust to dry up the old noggin.

it's true....i guess....

10 truths?? Good Lord! I'm pretty much an open book on this bloggie gabfest, except the deep dark secrets and I ain't sharin' with the world. It's a dilemma I tell you, but my beautiful friend Niki has tagged me to spill 10 juicy bits......lets hope what I come up with isn't too darn redundant.

Ready??


1. A bunch of eeejits told me that boobs shrink if you nurse babies. I am here to say that not only is that complete and utter bullshit, nursing makes them LARGELY SAG! I thank the Good Lord for push up bras.

2. While I'm on the topic.......a couple of years ago, I decided I wanted to go to a tanning salon. I was going to a reunion and wanted to look my best....as best can be.... So, I asked around at the office and it turned out most people had been to a tanning salon. I felt like a freak because i had never been. So, off I went with their blushing blessings. Well, the first time was very very weird. There I was buck naked lying on a heated, lighted bed in the basement of this spa.....knowing NO ONE knew I was there. I hated the big LID too close to my face. it made me claustrophic, which I am on my good days. Anyways....got through it and went back to the office proud of myself! The girls were proud of me, but also warned me to be careful next time..... They told me it was easy to burn my nipples and to place a towel across my breasts to avoid the pain. ok, fine.....

So, I go the next time....WITH music to listen to so I wouldn't freak over the coffin feeling of the tanning bed. I lay down, music on and then go to place the small towel over my breasts to protect those sensitive nips. Well guess what??? No worries there! The damn things were tucked under my armpits! Thank God for sagging breasts from nursing!! I had that going for me.

3. You want to woo me? A big bonfire, guitar strumming and some cheap white plonk......I melt. But, who the hell wants to woo a woman with saggy breasts whose nipples tuck under her armpits?

4. I collect phallic Pez dispensers. Everyone has to have a hobby, right?

5. Stir my brain and you've stirred my soul. In my books, there's nothing finer than a good mind......****

6. I had dinner with the Queen. She slurps her soup. Well, that's not true....but I did have dinner with her Royal Highness. Charming woman. Though I knew better not to touch her or put my arm around her unlike Michelle Obama. God, where did she learn her manners???

7. Absurdity is my best friend. That's why I believe nice guys finish lunch....not last....lunch.

8. If I won the lottery, I would flip the bird at the hand that feeds me, and take the trip of endless possibilities. Along the way, I would stop and pick up a few folks to join me because i don't like to travel alone.

9. My favourite parts of the week are Saturday mornings when I am FREE with no strings, time constraints, responsibilities.... I do as I please.... just me. Part of the morning you will find me at the local market....loveitloveit.... And, Sunday afternoons... I love Sunday afternoons putting in my kitchen and in my home... making dinner, writing, listening to the radio or music.... comtemplating, thinking, creating. I wish the whole week was a compilation of Saturday mornings and Sunday afternoons.

10. hmmmm.......I was invited to go backstage once to meet Kenny Loggins (this of course was before nursing babies and I was still very perky!). I went, and it was quite anti-climatic because he was short and shy and had nothing to say, unlike the time I met and interviewed Harry Chapin...now that completely lived up to my expectations!! He put his arm around me and said.... "Now what can i do for you??" I was left freakin' gobsmacked....!

There you go Niki. Ten truths....after sipping on a bunch of crushed grapes....xx Gotta love plonk....now where's the fire??

A dance in need of attention

I'm OK -- You're OK

It's all good................

I'm not OK -- You're OK

I'm still not OK -- You're not saying

I'm becoming OK -- You remain silent

I'm OK -- You're not OK, I guess

I'm OK, trying to reach out -- You're not sharing

I'm missing you -- I have no clue how you are

I wrack my brains wondering

what I may have done to feed your Not OK-ness

You have shut me out....Why?

I'm now not OK

I work it through and try to get on with life


Maybe you are doing the same?


I'm becoming OK again -- You are too I think.

I'm OK -- You want to talk.

I agree and try to arrange for this -- You turn away again.

I'm baffled and hurt -- You stonewall me.

We sit in silence.........separately

I'm now not OK again-- Are you? I want to know


As the sun peaks up over the river to welcome in a new day,
I wonder where this dance will lead.
I hope there's a lovely twirl in it but I'm not counting on it.
Instead, I will begin again to find myself a bucket of OK

to put over my head.

The photos were taken this morning while standing on my back deck.

Recognized as a blessing, I smile at the warm touch from God.

Kitchen parties from the past....

During the long bitter cold days of winter, the welcoming warmth of Canadian kitchens filled with savoury aromas and the comfort of fresh baking help the gentle folk of the Great White North survive....and thrive. In fact, our interactive always active sweet tasting kitchens are sometimes the ONLY allure that will entice us enough to don our parkas, and furry paraphenalia when the temperatures dip below what is humane on a Saturday night and head outdoors. When its so damn cold that the moistness in your nose insta-freezes into scraping shards, when the night air is so freaking frigid your blood chatters like ice in a manhattan, the anticipation of a kitchen party keeps the engine rumbling.

I don't know where the idea that the Maritimes are known for their raucous music filled kitchen parties came from, but it's true. The very best parties take place surrounded by the beer fridge and the munchies oven. Actually if I stop to think about it, these Maritime gatherings most likely began when the majority of houses had woodstoves in their kitchens that may even heat the whole house....it was a survival thang....the rest of the rooms too cold to be comfortable except under a thousand quilts. The tradition continues.....people simply gravitate.

So, it was on one dark dementedly frigid February night when a bunch of families gathered at one house for some fun, 50's style. Normally we don't get into themes, so I don't know where the idea generated from and can only assume the host and hostess were listening to Dean Martin again while reading cocktail recipes....they do this a lot.....it's an obsession. :)

Attic costumes and second hand stores were rummaged as we chose our own garb....our own "take" on the theme. Internet recipes sites which promoted the rib sticking blandness of 50's cuisine were scoured. Hairdos, red/orange lipstick, high heels and little evening purses were pulled out of the air along with cardigans, berets, and hair gel. And all at once the modern kitchen was transformed into a place from the past. It was HILARIOUS! The food was mostly disgusting looking but memorable. And some of it was surprisingly tasty. Gotta love meatloaf, and jello mold salads....YUMMY!

Nothing like white bread and the melted plastic processed cheese which ALWAYS sticks to your teeth and won't let go.....Add cooked greasy bacon on top and you've got yourself a gourmet delight.....aka a cheese dream.... oh, i have dreams of those lip smacking treats every night....

It was concluded that one needs a tropical fru fru drink on hand while stirring the simmering stews and mashing mounds of potatos. It gives the whole enchilada a lemony twist. And if you're drunk enough, you'll eat the crap you've served.


These three kitchen divas know how to keep a party hopping and hot.....their secret? Shaken not stirred..... hahaaha! God, I love hanging with these women! They look so proper don't they? Well, one of them introduced me to the term manscaping. Amazing where the conversation leads while playing an innocent game of rumoli.

This post was inspired by friends who know how to live the life of creative kitchen party absurdists at night while posing as serious professionals by day....and by CARMI at Written Inc, whose photo them this week is "Kitchen..." Thanks Carmi.

resliency....

A little over a year ago, 7 players from the Bathurst High School basketball team were killed in an accident on the way home from a game. The were riding in the van driven by their coach who survived. His wife did not. His daughter did. These are the bare boned facts of a tragedy which threw loved ones, friends into a pit of despair and mourning so soulfelt that every single person in this province and many across the country weeped for them.

The province of New Brunswick is a small community. There are only 700,000 or so people who call it home. That's the population of a medium sized city on a global scale. Even though the city of Bathurst, located on the north shore is 250 km away from Fredericton, it's nothing for one team to play another. If you want the competition, you've got to submit to doing a lot of driving on the weekends.


Consequently, the boys who played on the Bathurst High School Phantom basketball team were known by their peers in almost every single high school in the province. Not only that, many of them played against one another on the soccer pitch or the baseball field too. Our kids took this to heart. Our kids last winter hurt deeply over the tragedy, as did the coaches, the parents, the siblings, the friends. We lost 8 beautiful people who somehow, despite the distance felt like they lived on our own street. The Phantom basketball team shut down after the tragedy. It was too painful to even consider carrying on.


I never wrote about this story. Many did. But, for some reason I didn't feel that it was my story to write. It felt like an intrusion on their privacy? I don't know, but something stopped me. However it didn't stop me from thinking about the survivors, the mourners, the city of Bathurst many times over the year, wondering how they were managing to heal, to move on.....to remember without it suffocating. I thought long and hard about them last Sunday when I was driving home from my own son's basketball game in Sussex on a highway thick with slushy snow and freezing rain.




Basketball is a big sport in a country where indoor pursuits are needed in the middle of winter. Like hockey, basketball is quite organized....many kids play through the YMCA system like my son and continue on with school teams. The University is big in the sport. Hoops are found on most streets right alongside the nets for road hockey. This is the time of year when tournaments kick in as does the travel.


Just down the road from where I live, the Provincial championships were played yesterday. Turns out the Bathurst High School Phantoms were there, including a young lad named Brad Arseneau who had survived the crash. It was decided last fall to get a team together at the school to complete at the AA level. Most of the starters are only in Grade 10....15 and 16 years old. Turns out this Phantom team despite the odds, and all the emotions tied into the still fresh history of the school managed to win 26 games in a row in order to make it to the provincial finals.


A bit of a miracle, the media has called it. No doubt....resiliency, love, support and determination made this miracle happen....


Just last week, another crisis hit home. Their head coach collapsed during a practise and was sent to Montreal for tests. Other staff took over with the support of the team and family. And for moral support, hundreds of classmates, family, teachers and friends made the trip from the north shore, 250 kms to Fredericton to cheer them on. The gym must've been a sea of black and red, the Phantom colours. The air was most definately filled with familiar sounds of the game, the songs, the shouts, the clapping and encouraging chants.....the hearts and minds of everyone on both the game being played yesterday and the unbelievable loss.


They won. They beat the Campobello Vikings 82-50. Wearing his friend Nathan's number 7 on his jersey to honour him, Brad Arseneau scored 25 points in the winning game. He was named Most Valuable Player. Sometimes the right thing happens......God bless him. God bless them all.

Shiny happy faces on this team....joy never felt this way before.

***My good friend, Charles was there LIVE and in person covering the event as he does many events in this city.....as a crazy man blogger. He took many wonderful pictures throughout the b-ball game. I welcome you to check it out and while you're at it, please say hi to him. I promise he won't bite back. *****

simplyfun.....

the view from inside......

The snow is swirling like a wailing banshee in flight and we're all tucked in for the night in this corner of the world. I've got a dog by my feet, a cup of tea within reach and Steve Martin playing bluegrass banjo tunes with the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band is in the background. How much more could I want? It was that wild and crazy guy who once suggested we give every depressed person a banjo to play because you can't stay depressed if you're playing a happy travelling tune. It sets the atmosphere for some lighter writing........

My new blog friend, Irish Heather, aka "mouthy irish woman," who wears her honest feelings right out on her sleeve, tagged me to answer a few questions.....so here i sit ready to tackle them....you ready to read them?

1. What are you wearing right now? The outfit I wear when I'm blogging of course.... My black tight fitting mini dress, midnight sheer nylons, high heeled shiny leather boots.... sure eh? I do own those things but I ain't wearing them. What I'm really wearing? my red plaid flannels and my crocs with fake jewels on them....and a bright green and pink tulip quilt covering me. 'right cozysexy!

2. What is your biggest fear? Drowning, followed by painting my toenails. That scares the shit out of me.

3. Who is the last person you hugged? Believe it or not, my boss!

4. What was the last item you bought? a small bouquet of flowers for a client I met with in the hospital this afternoon. He's been an in-patient for over 4 months now and I wanted to bring him a little bit of spring for his room. My God, he is so ill! Send him a little prayer will you??

5. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? Here, there and everywhere! My number one choice right now though is to attend the Greenbelt festival in the UK in August. I'd like to go to Alaska too.

6. If you woke up tomorrow and were a boy, what is the first thing you would do and why? I would SCREAM! Then, I'd adjust myself and go drink milk from the container.

7. Has a celebrity haircut ever influenced your own hairstyle? hmmmm....yes...Billy Ray Cyrus? noooo.... ...Dorothy Hamel comes to mind....she's that Olympic skater from WAY back? I actually change my hairstyle quite often though it hasn't been long for a while.

8. Last movie I watched? Happy Go Lucky....oh, wait a minute...I fell asleep on the couch.... oh, I know it was that Brad Pitt starting old and getting younger movie. It totally creeped me out.

9. If you had a whole day to yourself, with no work, commitments or interuptions what would you do? Without hesitation.............I'd go shopping, to the dentist and then spend the rest of the day cleaning the bathroom. If I had time, I'd throw in a couple of loads of laundry, make dinner and mop the floors. After that, I'd head out to a karaoke bar to drink margaritas and sing Beyonce tunes....."All the single ladies, all the single ladies...."

10. If you were to win the lottery what would you do with the money. BLOW IT on cosmetics and sex toys...wouldn't everybody?

11. What was the last gift you received? When I got home from work last night a package from Paris was sitting in the hallway waiting for me (the contents in the picture below). It was from my friend Tara over at Paris Parfait. It appears I won a draw she held. It made me smile all over..... And if you are looking for an insightful, creative, colourful, thought provoking blog, may I highly recommend you visit Tara's blog. She's a gem.

12. What do you want written on your tombstone? My, how she loved to dance.....

Thanks for askin' Irish Heather. That was fun and timely....I needed to flip on the silly switch. BTW, if you havent noticed? I changed a couple of the questions....hope that was kosher. Oh, and here are some flowers just for you. They are part of my Valentine's bouquet....have a sniff!

games people play.....

Been stroked lately? We all crave them you know....the good, the bad and the lovely strokes. If we feel depleted of the nourishment we receive from being stroked, we will seek them out voraciously. It doesn't matter if they are loving or hurtful, our needs will override our logic. Hunger for love and affirmation is universally craved.....it is the key to what we all have in common. We all need to be stroked. Our thirsts need quenching.

Recognized

Affirmed

Emotionally touched by others

Loved

Stroked through our interactions.

Recently, I've spent some time re-acquainting myself with the need for global open heart surgery......an offshoot from my more academic readings while considering the approach I want to take for a counselling course I will be teaching next fall. Consequently, I've been spending some time with Eric Berne's concepts behind Transactual Analysis. (Parent/Adult/Child, Ego States, Strokes, Scripts, Interactions, Games People Play.....I'm Ok, You're Ok). In order to take my own learning to a deeper level....to the place where I am in my life right now, I have been evaluating it through my own life lens.....through the experiences I am involved in, which includes the counselling work I do, the stories and the issues I am privy to, but also the experience of my own life and interactions. It is what makes learning so compelling. It has to make sense through our own life lens. If it can't be applied, it ain't worth learning.....this is the number one rule in Adult learning. :)

So, where am I? Oh.....Games People Play.....stroking.


"However good or bad you feel about your relationship, the person you are with at this moment is the "right" person, because he or she is a mirror of who you are inside." This Deepak Chropra quote was sent to me from a friend who asked me to explain it.... Hey beautiful friend??? How am I doing here? Have I confused you even more, or does it make sense??(oh, that was a stroke request wasn't it?) Ok....let's continue inside my confusion shall we?? :)

Our relationships reflect to us what we need.....? It seems to me that we are all trying to survive as stroke depleted victims and in so doing we continue to reach out for any kind of affirmation even if it is harmful or emotionally destructive. I will even say that our way of giving and receiving strokes has been impacted severely by the fact that we seem to have an unquenchable thirst.......or perhaps our cups have holes in them from past hurts and neglectful/harmful past and present relationships and the golden nectar we collect constantly seeps out. The types of relationships we try to form often reflect the need inside of ourselves.....if we haven't dealt with our own "holes" our own "wounds" ..... if we don't recognize them, name them, heal them then we will seek out relationships for the salve we so desperately crave.


Its a vicious cycle we are in as we continue to seek out strokes....by any means, unaware of the fact that our vessels have big weepy holes in them. How do we plug up the holes? How do we heal the wounds left from the games and roles we played in the past in order to learn how to give and receive healthy strokes? The first step is to recognize this in ourselves. We've got to wake up and SEE the holes! You can't fix something broken if you don't know what it is! Then, you can focus your attention on it...... It's like understanding the goal behind the behaviour. There's nothing worse than realizing you have been used as a pawn in a game you weren't given the rules for. And the only thing you can do is to change the script....to recognize that you yourself got into the relationship to fulfill your own needs too.

There's ALWAYS a reason behind why we act the way we do. Our actions are not solo flying....they are TIED to our emotional and cognitive stirrings! Our actions may be the kite seen in the air doing tricks, but it can only do so because it has a tail AND it has a string attached to someone standing on the ground! AND it's sharing the sky with a bunch of other kites with their own strings, and their own multi-coloured tails.

We need to ask......

Why does someone act that way?

Why does a child misbehave?

What is the goal behind the action???? It's all in the need to be recognized, seen, heard, loved.....are these not the goals behind the majority of our actions?

Maslow postulated that we have three basic survival needs we have to fufill in order to survive...we all need food, water and air to breath. We need to recognize one more fundamental need and that is love. We will go to any lengths to satisfy that need. We'll even try to fly a dozen kites at the same time if it means that we will eventually receive the strokes we so sorely need.

This to me seems to be the key to helping someone (and ourselves) recognize the feelings which manifest the motivation for the transactions we seek out. We gotta know the dance steps..........and we may have to alter them in order to alter the interaction with another. If we are caught in a script.....you know one where how we act and what is expected of us detrimentally plays on over and over and over again, only to try to fulfill our desire and need to be stroked, how do we learn to recognize the fact that this may in fact BE the reason for some of the holes in our cups.

It all gets ravelled up doesnt it? We are complicated beings when it comes to relationships aren't we? Man, the games we play just to get a few strokes!! We form friendships which on the surface the interactions appear to be healthy and positive only to find out there is an underlying motive, an underlying script playing out. It is a frustrating and sometimes heart wrenching story.......we've all been there. We've all experienced a friendship which has very different motives than what we were open to see and feel. WHY does this happen? Because we are trying to fulfill our own needs which sometimes can blind us from what is really happening. Its like looking through a fogged up mirror.

We are all in need of open heart surgery. WE could all benefit from a course in emotional literacy.....to learn to READ our own emotions as well as others as part of understanding the script in the drama we call life. Maybe life is the ulimate course... maybe its the only way to learn how to read emotions....ours and others. It really isn't something you can glean from a textbook is it? Learning about love in all its colour must be experienced, not read about. But HOLY, sometimes its a rough ride isn't it? Life is a rough and tumble ride.....

I think I'll be revisiting this again...... I'm OK.....I think......are you OK?

DOWN WE GO!

Woolastook waterslides and a race down to the big splash. This week's theme is "down" courtesy of Carmi at Written Inc. I couldn't resist reposting these shots from two summers ago....my son and his friend....two buddies who continue to compete with joy and energy....on the slides in the summer and on the court in the winter. On a cold February night, with snow all around us, it was a nice treat to revisit a day when we had the slides to ourselves....when rushing downward to cool off with abandon was the theme for a whole afternoon.

Sadly, the slides are closed down for good....unless someone new comes to town to refurbish the little park just down the road from where we live.

For more versions of "down" check out Carmi's site. I guarantee it'll make you feel the corners of your mouth turn UP.

ps. YES! I did race the two of them and I'm proud to say I beat the pants off the skinny little buggers! My splash was much more dramatic too! Unfortunately you will have to take my word for it. No pictures were taken of middle aged lady gracefully barrelling down the waterslide laughing like a crazy woman. I can't wait for summer!!!

brought to you by the letter "G"

Gracious good greetings from the Great White North....a glacial gem on our globe......

• where growth gleefully germinates under the glistening glassy ice of its geologic tundra and gigantic glaciers,
  


• where gortex and galoshes are granted fashion status by the guys and girls who gather the gumption to go gallavanting out into the great outdoors
  


• where the growling groans of gaunting ghosts gather in the gaels and gusty northwind galaxies
  


• where the geneology genuinely gathers the glowing golden genes of multi-culturalism

Today's post is brought to you by the letter "G." Fellow blogger and facebook friend Judy at Imagine recently posted her own take on an alphabet meme which I enjoyed reading and asked her if I could join. She gladhandedly passed me glassy eyed "G" to go to it. So, without further gasp gaffaws....let me gaze into my grabbag of goodies with my green eyes and grapple for something about this girl which God hoping, will make you giggle.......oooooooo......I'm grasping onto a grand theme.....our national game....a game that I love. Get ready!

Genuflect....a reverential gesture common in these parts when acknowledging with gratitude the game of hockey as the religion of this country. GO Leafs! (Oh, and may I just add that I do believe Jesus is a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs because as long as we've been following them here, this team has always lived in the margins. Gotta love these perennial outcasts.)

Grapes.....One of the most revered and loved Canadians from coast to coast is Don Cherry, aka Grapes. Don Cherry is a brash mouthed in your face Guru who wears garish suits and barks out his opinion every Saturday night after the first period. His gregarious demeanour defies the stereotypical profile of the nice and gentle Canuck.....he speaks his mind with such heat and passion....and not just about hockey!

Much to the dismay of the brass gentry who wither at the sound of his controversial gravelly grizzly voice, we Canadians listen...sometimes rolling our eyes, sometimes laughing at his gutsy bravado, sometimes yelling back at the TV screen and believe it or not sometimes in tears when he shares his patriotism by recognizing our "boys overseas" in Afghanistan, or when he sends his love and best wishes to a hockey family who are going through rough times or when he demands the attention of every little kid who plays hockey whose listening while he gives them a couple of tips to playing the game. The guy's got gutsy compassion.


Grapes galvanizes us during Hockey Night in Canada.....like no other. And I love him for it. I may not agree with his politics or opinions all the time, but I love his passion and compassion. If Don Cherry ran for PM, he'd win....we'd be in deep trouble because he'd most likely piss off every leader in the free world, but he'd win.






Goals....He SHOOTS! He SCORES! Ah, the sweet sound of the excitable commentator of our great sport when the blistering puck slides past the goalie and into the net! No matter what level of hockey, goal scoring is exciting and gets us up clapping with our gloved hands making the sounds of happy seals. There are a few goals which are gouged in the collective memories of Canadians. And, we do gloat about them. :)

The first one took place in 1972 when Paul Henderson scored with 5 seconds left against Vladislav Tretiak in the Canada-Russia series. Honest to God, not only did that 7th game in the series bring this country to a halt (it was shown in the school gymnasiums right across the nation...even bridge playing ladies hosted hockey parties that afternoon) it brought this vast and magificent nation together!

The second monumental goal happened during the Salt Lake City Olympics when we beat the United States for the Gold medal for the first time in 50 years! It was a glorious gleeful whooping moment. You could hear the whole country shout for joy at the very same moment. Not a dry eye to be found when that flag was hoisted.

Gentlemen....believe it or not, there are many in the fast paced gnashing game. Gordie Howe is the first who comes to mind. The most recent player to take the reins is our boy from Cape Breton, Sidney Crosby. Thrown onto the professional rink at the tender age of 18, with lightbulbs flashing and our full attention, Sidney has taken his role as hero to all the little timbits hockey kids and mentor seriously, learning from one of the great gentlemen of the game....Mario Lemieux. Instead of letting this kid grapple and gangle....Mario, who runs the Pittsburgh Penguins team, invited Sidney to move in with his family. How cool is that?


Goons.....oh, hockey is FULL of them too. These elbow throwing high stickers know how to check another player into the boards with GUSTO. These are the guys who most often make the front pages of our national paper or the first story on the national news, sometimes even usurping an international story of far more gravity and importance. They are also the eejits whose violent antics have made a mockery out of our national sport. However, the ones who do their jobs, who protect the goal scoring elite, aren't recognized properly for their important role in the game. Grapes recognizes them....using their defensive plays to teach us the nuances of the fastest paced game going.


Glide....I love this word and the sound it makes when spoken....gliiiiiide.....it's the artistry of a skater....it's the freedom ringing from the razor sharp blade on the endless ice. It looks so easy....gliding.....but it isn't. And when you see a person who has the gift of making their skates look like they are a part of their body, it is a Rockwellian moment. The last time I glided? Some kid cut in front of me, knocking me off balance and in order not to fall and crush my son, I took the fall backwards with a thud so hard I saw stars. I ended up in Emergency in the throes of sobbing hysteria which I was told is a side effect of a concussion. I was sidelined for a week. I haven't put skates on since. Gotta rectify that. I need to get back to gliding....


Gretzky the Great One.....the God of the game. The ultimate hockey gentleman, goal scoring phenom, coach, mentor, Wayne Gretzky is our gifted ambassadour of hockey who is presently working diligently to pull together the next gold winning hockey team for the 2010 Olympics on our home ice. The pressure on his shoulders to repeat the glory of the Salt Lake City win is HUGE. Nothing matters more to most Canucks when it comes to the Olympics. Nothing is acceptable except GOLD

Wayne could run for Prime Minister too. What I admire so much about this man is how humble he had remained. No primadonna demands from this guy.......


The Great Outdoors.....Most hockey players learned how to skate in their backyards. Outdoor skating is THE best. It's where I learned too, on the rinks my father created for my sisters and I. There was also a neighbourhood rink on the street where I grew up which normally was overtaken by the boys and their hockey sticks. So, in order to have my time on the ice, I would don my skates before school started and practise my gliding! There are many outdoor rinks across this country.....and rivers and lakes and streams all waiting to be tested.

Next month, the World Pond Hockey tourney takes place in the little village of Plaster Rock, about two hours from here. Teams come from all over to jump into the game.

Yes our GREAT outdoors offers us many opportunities to play all types of hockey....in fact a forthcoming road hockey game is being organized in front of my house in the upcoming week or so. You're more than welcome to join. All ages and both sexes will be represented. Beverages to be provided during and post-game.

Well, there you go. I had plans to write on other "G" words, but given the time of year, and the wintry weather, I couldn't help but focus on hockey. Thank you Judy....that was fun to write. And PLEASE go visit Judy's blog and Naomi's too. I always enjoy their pictures, photos, commentary and stories.

If YOU would like to take on this creative and fun task, just let me know either email or in the comment section and I will send YOU a letter to lead you on your way.