We arrived home last night, tired, peopled out and I will add starving. I will sum up the week by saying it ran the gauntlet of emotions for all involved including the Beagle. I tried to help out as best I could but I felt as though I was more in the way. Daughter stayed home and helped out our dog-sitter who spoiled the dogs rotten. (Worse than Hubby) There was two ceremonies, one for the family and one for the town. Another funeral was being held the day of the town's. The somberness was felt throughout Chetwynd on Friday. The nice thing was though, each ceremony for Dil was uplifting in the end and just as Dil would want it, stories of 'how it was' emerged. I met some of the characters of these stories and their versions were a little wilder. It was a mixture of tears and laughter...but mainly the latter.
I decided Friday night after the last ceremony would be a good time to break my toe by dropping a can of lysol on it. (I did mention we ran the gauntlet of emotions. I just didn't mention that feeling utterly stupid was one of them.)
I got up earlier than usual this morning determined to but some happy back in the house just temporarily for Christmas. I had nothing baked for Christmas so I decided to get something in the oven. Hubby woke up to the smells of short bread and crackerjack cookies in the air. The dogs of course were lovingly staring at me as the drool puddled on the floor. I guess I will have to figure out where I can fit dog cookies somewhere in between the other stuff.
I do have one little vent. At the reception of the service for the town, I was sitting with Hubby as he was talking to another relative, these two women approached probably in their later (much later) forties. The one looked at me and remark in shock how much weight I have lost in a disgusted tone and then asked if I knew her. She looked vaguely familiar but I really couldn't place her and I guess the expression on my face showed that. Then she tells me she worked on my daughter's teeth. Like that helped. Then she nods and repeats herself. Silly me, I was expecting a name. I shook my head and gave a half apology I think or I might have just turned away I really don't remember but I was dismissive and unresponsive to her. She went away, thank god. I was told who she was later and then on the way home I remembered who she was. She decided that my older sister would make a good target for bullying in a dentist's office. I had felt a slight twinge of guilt for not recalling her but not after I figured out who the ............(apply any noun that you deem nasty) was. I reminded myself she was one of the reasons we left.
Its so good to be home.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
In Memory of a Not so Simple Man
We received some bad news this morning. Hubby's father passed away. It has been a very weird day of waiting for news and decisions. Hubby is still in shock mode as with the rest of the family.
Let me tell you about Dad In Law (so we will call him Dil). He never spoke to me for the first six months I was with Hubby. Hubby's reasons over the years have changed at to why. I think we hit upon the real reason. Hubby dated girls of questionable character (putting it very mildly) and according to Hubby Dil was waiting to see which category I fit into. All was forgiven when one afternoon, he looked over to my daughter and said, "Pass Grandpa that chocolate." He pointed to a plate that sat in front of him. All was forgiven.
This man could make anything out of...well...pretty much anything. His workshops looked something akin to a mad scientist's playground. His sawmill was the scariest thing I had ever laid eyes on. It would have made a great setting for a horror flick and the amazing thing is everything worked like clockwork. But as per Hubby's DNA being from the patriarchal side, nothing was ever finished.
He was stubborn as the day was long and frustrating to deal with in many ways. Dil was not an easy man to live with. I have sympathy for my mother-in-law as I am dealing with the watered down version. I could not imagine the fully concentrated version, holy crap there is not enough iron to make the frying pans needed. But as each Grandchild came along, blood or otherwise, he would try and reach out to each one. He was rather pleased when Daughter was visiting and was giving a try at welding. Dil was pleased to know she is engaged to a welder. I told Dil I blamed his influence.
Dil had many sides to him as all men do. Some were sweet, some were irritating and others were heartwarming. He was many things to many people. His roles as father, husband, brother and grandfather were done with his own finesse, showing his love in his own way.
Godspeed Dad E Godspeed
Let me tell you about Dad In Law (so we will call him Dil). He never spoke to me for the first six months I was with Hubby. Hubby's reasons over the years have changed at to why. I think we hit upon the real reason. Hubby dated girls of questionable character (putting it very mildly) and according to Hubby Dil was waiting to see which category I fit into. All was forgiven when one afternoon, he looked over to my daughter and said, "Pass Grandpa that chocolate." He pointed to a plate that sat in front of him. All was forgiven.
This man could make anything out of...well...pretty much anything. His workshops looked something akin to a mad scientist's playground. His sawmill was the scariest thing I had ever laid eyes on. It would have made a great setting for a horror flick and the amazing thing is everything worked like clockwork. But as per Hubby's DNA being from the patriarchal side, nothing was ever finished.
He was stubborn as the day was long and frustrating to deal with in many ways. Dil was not an easy man to live with. I have sympathy for my mother-in-law as I am dealing with the watered down version. I could not imagine the fully concentrated version, holy crap there is not enough iron to make the frying pans needed. But as each Grandchild came along, blood or otherwise, he would try and reach out to each one. He was rather pleased when Daughter was visiting and was giving a try at welding. Dil was pleased to know she is engaged to a welder. I told Dil I blamed his influence.
Dil had many sides to him as all men do. Some were sweet, some were irritating and others were heartwarming. He was many things to many people. His roles as father, husband, brother and grandfather were done with his own finesse, showing his love in his own way.
Godspeed Dad E Godspeed
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Coffee Quickie
The post mortem is done for the play. We came in at a loss but I don't care, my actors got a standing ovation on the last performance and they deserved it.They took a difficult script with a touchy subject and made it work. So now I'm already looking ahead at what I can do next to shake up this town.
Hubby has taken on the task of insulating the house against the drafts which have appeared with vengeance since Winter hit. And I do mean hit, and hard. It was as if someone flipped the switch. I don't have a problem with the getting rid of drafts but can we at least finish the project first before moving on to the next one. Oh well it has been rather adventurous.
I can say I have truly lived now. I have seen and swept antique dust bunnies. The nice thing about very old dust bunnies is they don't run from the broom or vacuum, they crumble. They crumble into a pile of fine dust that defies the vacuum or broom. You would think the pile of dead dust bunnies would be easier to clean up. Nope. With every breath, motion or Beagle snore the dust spreads all over. Its like the final revenge of the dust bunny. Just what I needed for Christmas.
Speaking of which, I thought I was behind years before but this year it ridiculous. The long Autumn really wasn't an incentive to prepare and then wham its now December. The parcels aren't done, the cards are waiting for the letters, shopping has been started at least and almost done (I think) but the baking isn't started. The house was ready until Hubby got in there. So I think I'll take stock in a couple of days then deal with it.
Did I mention Hubby wants to tear apart the kitchen as well? We got a really nice counter from where Hubby works which is sitting in the hall at the moment. So now he wants to attack to kitchen. I love the man with every fibre of my being but I just may have to tie him up and beat him with a noodle. On second thought, may be not, he might enjoy it too much.
I think I'd better go break up the geriatric dust bunny conga line forming in the hall way. It's a matter of choosing the proper weapon and sneaking up on them.
Hubby has taken on the task of insulating the house against the drafts which have appeared with vengeance since Winter hit. And I do mean hit, and hard. It was as if someone flipped the switch. I don't have a problem with the getting rid of drafts but can we at least finish the project first before moving on to the next one. Oh well it has been rather adventurous.
I can say I have truly lived now. I have seen and swept antique dust bunnies. The nice thing about very old dust bunnies is they don't run from the broom or vacuum, they crumble. They crumble into a pile of fine dust that defies the vacuum or broom. You would think the pile of dead dust bunnies would be easier to clean up. Nope. With every breath, motion or Beagle snore the dust spreads all over. Its like the final revenge of the dust bunny. Just what I needed for Christmas.
Speaking of which, I thought I was behind years before but this year it ridiculous. The long Autumn really wasn't an incentive to prepare and then wham its now December. The parcels aren't done, the cards are waiting for the letters, shopping has been started at least and almost done (I think) but the baking isn't started. The house was ready until Hubby got in there. So I think I'll take stock in a couple of days then deal with it.
Did I mention Hubby wants to tear apart the kitchen as well? We got a really nice counter from where Hubby works which is sitting in the hall at the moment. So now he wants to attack to kitchen. I love the man with every fibre of my being but I just may have to tie him up and beat him with a noodle. On second thought, may be not, he might enjoy it too much.
I think I'd better go break up the geriatric dust bunny conga line forming in the hall way. It's a matter of choosing the proper weapon and sneaking up on them.
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