It's International Women's Day & I'm A Women's Libber!

International Women's Day is the perfect time to look back on our gains and losses in the last few generations.

I'm amazed when someone tells me they've never been one of those Women's Libbers.  Are they telling me they believe women should be chattels, unable to vote and their property passing to their husband on their marriage? Are they saying they don't believe in equal pay for equal work, equal education and equal opportunity in employment?  Are they saying they don't care about violence toward women?

It's easy in 2016 to forget the path cleared by the courageous women who went before us; the novelists who brought the plight of women to the general consciousness, the suffragettes who endured scorn and imprisonment to gain the right to vote and to forget the tireless lobbyists for women's rights.

I was reading Marilyn French's last novel written before her 2009 death, The Love Children. Amid the nostalgia of my era of coming of age, is the realities of North American society in the 60's. I was struck by the things we didn't know were wrong with our place in our society at the time.

You can thank the Women's Liberation Movement for coining the term sexual abuse. It didn't even exist before then. Although all the women from my generation have our stories, at the time we didn't really know how wrong it was. An example is a friend of mine who tells of being a young woman in her first office job at a manufacturing plant.  Her boss would sit behind his desk fondling himself while looking at her through the window into her office. Did she take a complaint to management? Of course not. When she was forced to go on the factory floor, she endured men saying the slogan from a fast food restaurant, Hot & Juicy, as a play on her name. Did she put in a complaint to their superiors? Of course not. We didn't even know we could complain.

We were so used to cat calls walking by construction sites and holding our books in front of our chests so the boys wouldn't make rude jokes in the high school hallways, that this didn't seem all that bad. We wrestled with groping boys on dates and tried to give creepy uncles a wide berth at family gatherings. We didn't even tell our parents any of that happening. It was somehow shameful and we felt we brought it upon ourselves in some way we couldn't understand.

It took women to start talking loud and long and often for mainstream media to focus on women's issues. It took marches and slogans and placards and, yes even an attempt to burns bras at a beauty pageant, to begin to make changes.

We could now openly talk about how uncomfortable men made us feel. In fact, we were afraid of men. Not monsters of men, just ordinary fathers, brothers, husbands, sons.  No one told them their actions were hurting us. It was all in good fun, right? It was a compliment to a girl to whistle at her or pinch her bottom, wasn't it?

No, it wasn't fun or a compliment. We were afraid you would force yourselves on us sexually. We were afraid you would beat us. We were afraid you would leave us with children and no one would make you pay support. We would have to manage on our own, undereducated, at low paying jobs.

You were our doctors, ministers and teachers and yet, at some level, we were afraid of you.

By the time I was raising my daughters, we talked about these things. I could tell them they were equal to any man and must never allow themselves to be abused in any way. I could encourage them to enter any field of employment they chose.

But with all the gains, there is a very long way for the Women's Liberation Movement to go. In Canada, according to Statistics Canada, women earn 72 cents for every dollar men earn for comparable work. Higher levels of education for women has not closed the gap. A traditionally male occupation of truck driver pays an average of $45,000/yr. Early Childhood Education, traditionally a female occupation requires a college degree and earns $25,000.  Women put in 3 to 6 hours daily of unpaid work in the home compared to men's 30 mins. to 2 hrs. of unpaid work. This has to affect job performance between the sexes.

Violence toward women is increasing and will continue to do so until the courts hand down stiffer penalties for these crimes and our attitude toward them encourages change in how we raise our boys.

I am a Women's Libber! I'm proud of it. It doesn't mean I don't like good men. I love them! Without good men, we women could not have achieved any basic, human rights. After all, it was and remains, men who hold the balance of power in the world. Good men listened to what we had to say and passed legislation and laws that empower women. Good men passed good values on to their sons, students, and employees. Good men enforce our rights.

As women of 2016, let's be proud of being part of a movement that extends around the world; free and equal in every way. Let's raise a cheer for the good men who will carry the banner alongside us!

My granddaughters are counting on all of us!

This Is Awkward

It's hard to know where to begin when I haven't done a post in over a month. A simple thank you to those of you who sent messages asking if all was well with me seems like a good start.

I'm fine. It's been a busy time for me the past few months and each day I thought I would write about what I was doing. It just never happened.

It all began after Christmas. I was turning sixty-four, winding down my home decorating business and wondering, "Where do I go from here?".  An answer didn't pop into my mind so I decided to open the door, figuratively, and see who or what walked in. I know the universe abhors a vacuum and something was bound to present itself.

Well, kids walked in. Lots and lots of kids filled the void.

One day a week I was minding one and two-year-old girls for a young mom, newly returned to work, who's regular sitter couldn't take them that day for a while. It's been many a decade  year since I've had to chase around, feed, bath, diaper and entertain toddlers for a 12 hr. day. I have tiny grandkids but their parents do all that stuff. I just do the fun Grandma things and pass them back when the stinky part happens. It took me quite a while to get back in the swing of it!

You can't really write a post about the girls picking the flowers off the geraniums and teaching them that the flowers and herbs in the house have to be treated nicely.

They're getting pretty good with leaving them alone as long as I let them do the watering. We put one of the broken blossoms in a jar of water and they saw new roots form. We planted it and they were excited that they would soon have a whole new geranium to take home with them.

Well, they will have if I can ever get the youngest girl to stop pulling the plant out of the soil to see how the roots are doing!

My 15-year-old grandson has been coming here to stay for 4 or 5 days at a time. Outside of the usual mounds of food to cook and dishes to wash that come along with teenage boys, he is a little more work in that he has to be under constant supervision. 

He has Fetal Alcohol Syndrome and it gives him a wide range of problems from learning difficulties to impulse control issues to the poor self-image that comes along with living with disabilites. He panics if he thinks he is alone.

When his younger sister, suffering from FAS as well, became very difficult to handle, and with six kids in the family, my daughter and son in law were happy to have my grandson spend some time with me. I can keep things quiet here and he loves having my undivided attention, not to mention being able to order up whatever he wants to eat. I come from a big family myself and know that never, ever happens in a big family. He isn't disturbed by his sister's outbursts here. All is calm. In fact, last time he stayed here I heard him tell his sister he might bring her along next time and she could get calm, too. Ekes! What have I got myself into!

The good news is, the school had been discussing having to let him go before graduating because of his unruly behaviour. I use the term graduate loosely of course. Since he has been coming here, he has turned that around. His special ed. teacher is thrilled with the progress and feels he will make it through. It's not that I'm doing anything wonderful, it's just that I have the place and time to be of assistance to my daughter and her family.

In the middle of all this, daughter #2 was having child care issues of her own. She has a daughter in kindergarten and a one-year-old boy. When she returned to the workforce, she hired a nanny and thought all would be well. She lives in a large city and there is a shortage of daycare spaces. That also means nannies are in high demand. As soon as she got one worked in, the nanny would quit for a better paying job. Even shelling out most of her paycheck for babysitting wasn't holding them. She lives an hour away from me and did her best to not call me in, except as a pinch hitter, so when she called I knew she really needed it.

At one point, I felt I was juggling an awful lot of balls and trying to keep them all in the air! One week the girls I mind had to come an extra day in the week. The next day my grandson arrived. He stayed for four days. Daughter #2 called to see if I could go mind her son for two days. I couldn't do the first one because I already was babysitting but I could leave the house at 6:30 in the morning to do the second day. Have I ever mentioned that I am not a morning person?

The good news is, things have settled down for me. Daycare spaces have opened up and I'm not pinch hitting anymore. My grandson will continue to come for respite care and I'm getting quite good at chasing toddlers around again.

Spring is coming and I'm catching my second wind!

The ice went out of the river. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stood and watched it crack and groan and race away carrying all kinds of debris with it. ~

We made it through the winter!  We stuck together and helped each other and everything turned out fine. I even got a little more physically fit from the toddler workout sessions!

Although .... I may be a little more careful next time I say I'm going to throw the doors open and see what comes in. Maybe I'll install a peephole and take a look at what I'm getting into first!

Be Odd If It Makes You Happy

You know it has been the best of Sundays if you find yourself smiling at nothing in particular. ~

I can honestly say I never thought, at the age of 64, I'd be hanging out with chickens. It certainly wasn't any part of my life plan. But, hanging out with those girls does make me happy.

Today I cleaned the ashes out of the woodstove ~

and took them out to the coop to add to the dirt bath the girls have made under the quarantine coop. Clever girls to find a place that will stay dry all year!

It made me happy to see they had a great time fluffing their feathers in the ashes. ~

If you have a fireplace or woodstove, put your ashes out for the wild birds to bathe in. As long as there is nothing but clean firewood that has been burned, it's good for them to be able to clean their feathers in the winter.

It was a cold day and, in the afternoon, I made some oatmeal for the girls.

Who wouldn't be happy to see them all lined up, making little hops of excitement when they know I am coming? ~

I didn't even mind staying out in the cold to see if they liked their treat and to make sure old Vivian gets her fair share. ~

I know it is odd to prefer watching chickens to shopping or travelling or fine dining but I've done all those things. They were fine for their time. For the present time, hanging with chickens is what makes me smile.

The sun was setting and I looked at the tracks crisscrossing my yard. Tracks from my feet and the two-year-old girl who is so excited about being able to identify her prints, mine, a squirrel, a raccoon, a cat and a rabbit. They are the prints of life going on all around me.  They are my life.

I take my fair share of ribbing over being a Chicken Lady. I really don't care if I'm a little to the left of centre. Orrrr - even a lot to the left.

Be as weird as you like this week and soak up all the happiness you can! Sing marching songs at the bus stop, wear your hair in pigtails, dance down the hall at the office, eat chocolate cake for breakfast; whatever sets your sails, just do it.

I'll be here, hanging with a cool bunch of chicks!

My Simple Life Got A Whole Lot Simpler

There I was all geared up with all kinds of Christmas projects completed, photographed and ready to blog about when two things happened to take my deliberately simple life and turn it positively pioneer.

The first thing that happened was I blew the brake lines out on my car. It's an old car and not really worth putting any significant money into repairs. Since I opted for semi-retirement last year and discovered I didn't have nearly enough money to get by on comfortably, I had to go without a vehicle until I could find a good deal on another used car. Have I mentioned I LIVE IN THE COUNTRY! That freed up a whole lot of time I would have used for last minute Christmas shopping.

The second life altering event was getting caught between internet providers. I cancelled the original service only to discover that the new provider was at capacity for customers and I would have to wait and wait and wait until they could determine whether they could get me enough signal, send someone out to test and set up an appointment for installation. Did I have any options to waiting weeks for service? No, because I LIVE IN THE COUNTRY!

I decided to zen out about it all and assume this was a sign that I should slow down and reassess my daily life. What did I want to keep and what did I want to let go? What did I enjoy and what did I do out of habit? What makes me happy and what has become a burden?

I discovered things I had no idea were going on in the house. The mystery of why the onions I planted weren't growing was explained by seeing where Clara Jane chooses to take her afternoon nap.

 The unseasonably warm weather we've had here in Ontario gave me a third harvest of lavender on the 23rd. of December! ~ 

Now, there was time to take the lavender buds off all the bundles I had drying and the fragrant stems are in a basket by the woodstove to add a little something special to the evening fire. ~

I'm minding two little girls, one and two years old, each Monday for a friend. Their regular babysitter can't take them that day for awhile. I'm sure it was a shock to them to discover they were in a house with no cable TV. But, the age old things that have entertained children for generations still work.

We baked Christmas cookies. ~

They taught me there is no such thing as too many sparkles. ~

Clara Jane learned that the safest place in a house with two toddlers is the top of the fridge. The one-year-old learned to say, "Tzee tzee (kitty) is high! ~

Serves Clara Jane right for killing my onions!

There was time to devote to a grandson that chose to come for a five-day visit. This is a big step for him for, although he is a teenager, he has many developmental and emotional issues and has not stayed away from home before. It was quiet here and no car meant no running around to entertain him and that stopped any chance of sensory overload for him. We did fine together and he was making plans for a month-long summer visit before he left. In fact, he decided it would be best if I left the house to him in my will and he could move in and take care of my cats and chickens. I kind of like that plan. He's an old hand at chicken keeping and the cats love him.

They say nothing ever really happens by accident. I think I had this enforced slow down so I could spend some time on things that matter a little more than what I was doing.

I'm glad I've had this time to gather my thoughts together and begin the new year in a more conscious way. One thing I know for sure is I'll block out lots of time for whatever kids need me.

And, I know you'll still get lots of chicken posts because slowing down reminded me of how much I like to go out into the dusk and see the trees silhouetted against the sky as I put my girls to bed for the night.

Nothing calms the soul more than the cooing of happy chickens as they settle down for the night.

I think this past month I have been cooing in the evening myself!

I Remembered Them All Today

Today is filled with memories of all the war veterans I have had the privilege to know in my life. So many of them have passed away and their stories may be forgotten.

I live only a few miles away from the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum and today many of those carefully preserved WWII planes have rolled out of the hanger and proudly flown over my house on their way to do a flyby over the various cenotaphs in the surrounding cities and towns.

It's a special treat to me to see the Lancaster bomber fly overhead. Only two of these remain in the world, one in Britain and the other a star in the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum. ~ 

My father was only 18 when he signed on as a tail gunner for the Lancaster bomber. ~

As I watched the planes fly overhead today, I remembered the first flight of the newly restored Lancaster back in the '80's.

I was going into an important meeting with the comptroller for the wealthy man who had loaned me the money for my business. Some restructuring of the repayment schedule was critical to getting the business on it's feet. The comptroller was a no-nonsense man that I had never seen crack a smile and I was nervous entering the meeting. He seemed such an unlikely business manager for the open and friendly man who had given me the loan. I knew he was a devout Christian and stay at home kind of guy, yet I'd been told he had been best friends with his wealthy boss, a jet-setting, devout Jew, for 40 yrs.  It was a mystery to me.

As I entered the meeting, I had to tell him that I would have to leave to go outside for a few minutes to see the maiden flight of the Lancaster. I was very apologetic but firm about it. He looked carefully at me and asked me why it was so important to me and I told him my father had been a tail gunner on Lancs during the war. He smiled and said my father must have been a very brave man. The tail gunners didn't make it out if the plane was shot down. They didn't even have parachutes.

I told him the piano tuner was in the building and he would be joining me to see the flyby although he never flew in the Lancaster. He had flown gliders into Holland. The comptroller gravely asked me if he could join us and have the honour of meeting the piano tuner. I must have looked very surprised because he offered an explanation. He had been a navigator on the Lancaster bomber and my wealthy backer had been the pilot.  Now I understood the bond between these unlikely friends!

Then he said, "Hands down, though, your piano tuner is the bravest of all airmen and I would very much like to meet him". 

That conversation led me to do a little research on glider pilots during WWII and find out what the quiet, unassuming piano tuner had done.

These gliders were enormous wooden boats, with no engines and no armaments.They were tugged into the air like kites and set free to be flown on air currents. They transported men and equipment and landed behind enemy lines, usually to take key positions such as bridges. Once the glider landed there was no way to fly back out.

The two pilots and the servicemen they carried had to secure the position and hold it until Allied troops reached them. The battle my piano tuner flew into was to secure the north bridge at a place called Arnhem in Holland. It was the largest airborne operation of WWII. The Allied forces were not able to reach them and of the 11,900 men who were flown into the area, only 3,900 escaped or were evacuated. Of the remainder, 1,400 were killed and 6,500 became prisoners of war.

I've heard it said that WWII veterans say the G in the centre of the insignia worn by glider pilots doesn't stand for 'glider' but rather for 'guts' because that's exactly what it took to do the job!

I'm so glad I had the chance that day to learn a little more about the sacrifices that were made for me by those who fought to secure freedom for all.

We went back to our meeting and I continued presenting my proposal for refinancing. The comptroller listened seriously to what I said and picked up the papers to take back to his boss.

On his way out of my office he gave another of those rare smiles and said, "I'm sure this will be fine with him. We can do that much for a tailgunner's daughter."

I remembered them all today and saluted the warplanes as they flew overhead. My gratitude knows no bounds!

Let's Talk Holiday Season and Overspending

Really, Maureen, you say. You want to talk about money management at the most expensive time of the year???

I do and I'll tell you why. I'm constantly hearing from people around me that their financial situation is changing or they're afraid it's going to change. Unexpected expenses with kids, divorce, job insecurity, loss of a spouse, stock market fluctuations making pensions insecure, the government cut backs on assistance programmes, illness or disability, world financial crises, rising living costs and unstable property values. On and on the list goes and we don't seem to know how to prepare ourselves for any of it.

We could begin by making friends with our money. ~

We start by taking stock of what we have and what we owe. Seems simple enough. Unfortunately, we prefer a head in the sand approach more often than a dose of reality.

I was just reading a Ladies' Home Journal from 1932. The Depression has devastated rich and poor alike. The article said,

"We must learn the new values of money ...  Keeping up with the Joneses is out of fashion ... Where we were specialists in spending, we are becoming specialists in living. There is a new thrift for new pioneers."

My immediate reaction was that it is rather difficult to be thrifty with the holiday season creeping up on us. My next thought was, that there would never be a better time than now, before the credit cards and cash cards get pulled out to host lavish dinners and buy expensive gifts. I count on spending about $200 to give a large family dinner, including wine and spirits. Is that entirely necessary? Somewhere in the last 30 or 40 years we got the notion we had to have enough selection in alcoholic drinks in the house to make a small tavern look understocked. Next I considered the number of side dishes that have been added to the menu. There certainly weren't eight selections of vegetables at my parent's festive meals and tomato juice, milk, coffee and tea were the drinks I see on any of their tables in the old photos. I could pare it down a little and have the added bonus of the fridge not being packed with leftovers. 

That train of thought reminded me of when a family member fell into dire financial straights a few years ago. One of the endless recessions was going on and he was let go from an executive position. Finding a new job took a couple of years and they were getting by on a fraction of their former income, earned by taking low-end jobs and his wife going back to work. 

As we chatted on the phone one day, he told me one of the things they missed the most was having friends over. I said it was too bad that we couldn't entertain the way we had when we were young. We'd make a big bowl of spaghetti with hardly any meat in the sauce and serve it up with some crusty bread. There were no salads, appetizers or dessert as a general rule. The guests usually brought a bottle of cheap wine. We listened to records and talked and if there weren't enough chairs in the living room, some of us sat on the floor. 

It was the week between Christmas and New Years and they decided to give it a try. They didn't invite one of the couples that were used to coming over when the food and drinks flowed like there was no end to funds. Instead, they had a couple they liked but had not spent much time with. They told the guests it would be a simple meal and a chance to spend a quiet evening together. The guests offered to bring wine as their contribution. The hosts baked a loaf of fresh bread and made a big bowl of spaghetti. 

Serve that on a checked tablecloth or even put a checked tea towel in the centre of the table and you have an instant Italian bistro! ~

The next day I had a phone call from the host. They had the most wonderful evening they had in years! That was the year So You Think You Are Smarter Than A 5th Grader was all the rage. Their daughter had received the game as a Christmas gift. They were talking about how hard the questions were to answer and the guests said, "Bring it out and let's see how we do!". They spent the evening laughing and playing a kids game and formed a firm friendship that has grown beautifully over the last few years. 

That 1932 Ladies' Home Journal article said, "New  satisfactions are being found in simpler living and simpler pleasures".

Maybe we could lower our stress levels a notch or two (or a thousand) by taking some of that old advice to heart. Leave a little more of the money in the bank and we'll all enjoy the season a whole lot more!

I'll still have the turkey dinner and I'm sure a few bottles of wine will be served. But, I will look at finding ways to make the meal special without the excess. 

Look out Pinterest, here I come and I've got my craft on!

Reviving My Gratitude Journal

Daily life has seemed to be contrary lately and even my favourite season of the year, Fall with all the beauty and abundance it bestows on us, failed to inspire me to decorate.

As I was leaving a friend's house, she asked me if I would like the Hydrangea blooms from her garden.

I put them in an antique crock on the dining room table. ~

The crock gave me the idea to add the stoneware jug that was my mother's first antique purchase as a new bride. ~

An antique glass compote filled with apples struck my fancy and a primitive, wooden crow joined the grouping.

These solid lead cast farm animals, a child's toy from the 1800's, always bring a smile to my face and I added them to the side of a berry wreath. ~

It struck me that I was choosing items that gave me happiness just by seeing them. Why not add a bowl of eggs, daily gifts from my tiny flock of chicken friends? ~

And, why not enjoy the sight of an inquisitive cat that has to be part of the decorating process? ~

Grouping things I find beautiful together made me stop and see the beauty I was overlooking. I could have filled that table in minutes with everyday items that bring me joy when I take the time to acknowledge them.

I went to my library shelves and pulled out a book, Simple Abundance by Sarah Ban Breathnach. That book was a great comfort to me fifteen years ago when I was going through a very difficult time. Sarah introduced me to the idea of keeping a gratitude journal.

Each day I wrote down in my journal five things that I was grateful for in the day that was ending. It was difficult to think of anything to be grateful for in that stressful and heartbreaking year. I started with little observances of sunsets, horses grazing in a field or a warm fire. It became a habit to keep my eyes open for nice things in my day so I had something to write down that evening. Soon, I had more than five things to put in my journal. I was seeing beauty, kindness and goodness all around me. My situation hadn't changed one bit; only my way of viewing my world had improved. But, that made all the difference between wallowing in misery and stepping back into life with all its wonder and joy.

Putting together some Thanksgiving Day displays reminded me of all that I am blessed with if I will only stop long enough to see it. ~

Sarah's thought for the day I started decorating was perfect. ~

We all have different ideas of what is beautiful. It only matters that we see the beauty we already have around us. A gratitude journal is the best way I know of healing a wounded soul. It says to the universe, "I appreciate all that is good in my world and I'm offering back to the universe my sincerest thank you for the gifts I receive." 

I pulled out my old gratitude journal and made a new entry. I listed the Hydrangeas first, not just because they were beautiful, but because they were a gift from a friend. a perfect way to begin a Thanksgiving weekend that was filled with love, sharing and happiness.

Today, I will write in my journal that I was fully present and enjoyed every moment of the day spent with my family. Every hug, every joke, every conversation, every snuggle with a grandchild was a gift. My heart and soul were full of gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you. May you find many wonderful memories to take up a pen and write in your journals!

The Gleaners

I had this print of The Gleaners, by Jean-Francois Millet, hanging on my dining room wall for many years until it faded beyond saving. ~

Only recently I discovered it wasn't a depiction of a biblical story but rather a criticism of the French upper class and the poverty it imposed on the lower classes.

Gleaning bits of grain left behind the harvest does indeed show a hard way of life, but I focussed on the resourcefulness of the women, who found ways and means of feeding their families.

I admit I am a diehard gleaner. It makes me feel good to busy myself in the fall gathering and storing for the long winter ahead.

The last of the tomatoes go into the pot to peel and freeze. ~

Basil is chopped and covered with olive oil to freeze. ~

The last of the corn has been blanched and frozen and the chickens, the ultimate gleaners, have feasted on the kernels left clinging to the cobs. ~

The girls are scurrying about the yard all day at this time of year, pecking at bugs, fallen fruit and grasses gone to seed to put on the extra weight they will need to keep warm in the winter months. They've finished molting and grown a nice, thick coat of feathers.

Don't you just love Vivian's bloomers? ~

This year I've added nutting to my foraging.  My sister called to say the row of hickory trees just outside the village were loaded with nuts. No one has ever gathered them to my knowledge. To be honest, I didn't even know what one tasted like. A little Google session later, I discovered Hickory nuts are right up there with macadamias for a gourmet treat. Shelled, they sell for $24/lb. online. One site said that while walnuts are the Chevys of the nut world and pecans are the Oldsmobiles, hickory nuts are the Cadillacs. They were right! They are murder to crack, but the fruit is soooo worth the effort!

The temperatures dropped dramatically here last night and it's time to haul the potted herbs indoors. The freezer is full and the sealer jars are lined up on the shelves. ~

Yup, I'm happy with my tendency to be a gleaner and storer!