Stacey's Greatest Discovery

Once upon a time there was a gorgeous, witty, smart-as-a-whip gal named Stacey (I have taken some artistic liberties here, since it is my blog). She had a cousin who she had only ever known as the independent and sassy tom-girl from their brief encounters at family reunions every couple of years. They may have even shared a conversation or two when they found themselves attending the same university. The odd bit of news would trickle down from the grandparents- her cousin was living in Ireland. She's married now to an architect. One kid, then two, then three.

Then came facebook. If over time facebook becomes a distant memory in the minds of a techy society who has moved on to bigger and better social networks, Stacey will never forget what facebook gave her. She has made many world shattering discoveries in the last few years; Jian Ghomeshi, CBC Radio, Adriana Trigiani, Alberta steak, the Canadian Rockies, extra hot-no water-no foam-Tazo Chai-lattes, and blogging. But the best discovery ever -- was Jennie. The ultimate Sassy Woman.

Was it the blog that attracted Jennie to reach out and cross the awkward-small talk-boundary with Stacey? Whatever it was, she is grateful. Because not only has she strengthened a link in the family chain, but she has found a best friend that she never expected to find at this stage in her life. Now if only they could put their brilliant minds together and put their friendship to good use.. figure out how to afford bringing Stacey's family back to Ontario so that they can be real-life besties.

Love. Emma.

Jennie,

I don't have the mental energy to put my thoughts to words as beautifully as you have been doing on this blog. My thoughts are more along the stinky lines of verbal vomit. For that, I apologize. I do appreciate that I need to participate in this endeavor of ours, to inspire each other and to talk of all that inspires or touches us. For me, these are the things I care about that my husband rolls his eyes at. So no matter how dumb I feel, I will press on and post anyways. Hopefully you can pull some little gifts out of the junk I spout every now and then.

Today I was playing around on imdb.com and youtube and came across a couple of scenes from one of my absolute favourite movies. Sense and Sensibility appealed to me like few have. I am a HUGE Jane Austen fan, but it isn't even the story as much as Emma Thompson's portrayal of Elinor Dashwood. Her acting is truly exquisite. I have probably seen this version at least 15 times and each time I approach the following scenes, my stomach clenches and my breathing quickens in anticipation of the emotion I'm about to feel with Emma.

In this scene, I am so moved and can so relate to Elinor's outburst. Elinor has known for weeks that Edward is to be married to Lucy Steele. Lucy told Elinor in the strictest of confidence. Elinor loves Edward and has been tolerating Lucy's feelings and ramblings of him. She finally breaks down about it to Marianne.



Elinor's pent up emotions which are the result of putting others before herself and the shock of hearing a true glimpse of her feelings spoken aloud- I just think this scene is soooo well done. There is a brief moment where Marianne tears up because she feels guilty and EVEN THEN Elinor pushes her own feelings aside to help (read: coddle) her sister through it. The single act of leaning on the cupboard for support, to push herself to her feet, almost as if she needs the strength to close the door on her own feelings to support her sister yet again.... the weariness in that action alone is my absolute favourite moment in the whole scene. Emma is brilliant.

And then the finale...



Ahhh.

Love.

Stand Up

I totally stole this from another blog I just read, but can't help it. I think I just watched this 10 times in a row. There is nothing like a song that can bring you to your feet..

Canada Reads

Jennie,

I'm not going to blah, blah, blah about why I've neglected you and our lovely little blog for the past few weeks. Instead, I'm just going to offer you my HUGE apologies and ask you not to give up on me. I'll make it up to you.

So today I heard our lover, Jian announce that the Canada Reads nominees are to be announced shortly. I can't remember if I heard next week or December 1st. Actually IS next week December 1st? Can that be possible? -Wow. Just checked the date. I feel like I've been in a month-long coma and have lost all track of time. So in honour of our mutual love of all things Jian and of the book, should we do a co-read of all the nominees? HUGE challenge, but I'm ready to take it on. Besides, you know you'll win.

Pretty please?

Lost in a Painting

Jennie Dearest,

There is a lovely little art gallery in Banff that Jacob and I discovered on one of our trips where we had enough time to do a little window shopping. A treat that isn't possible if we have the twins with us. Jake was only five or six and a painting in a window caught his eye. We ended up spending at least 20 minutes, staring at the piece entitled 'Faery Tales' by James Christensen. My understanding is that there are 24 different stories hidden within this painting and Jake managed to identify at least 19 of them.

Two trips back to Banff and we were drawn back to the gallery to stare at it again. Jonathan and I have gone to Banff for our every wedding anniversary since we've lived in Calgary and on our first such trip, Jonathan bought the piece as a family anniversary gift. VERY uncharacteristic of him, because it was most definitely an unnecessary expense. But it has brought us great pleasure and I never thought  I could say that about a piece of art. It now proudly sits in our library room, above our comfiest sitting chair. You'll often find one of the kids standing in the chair, staring up at the vibrant colours and intently studying all the different recognizable characters from childhood favourites.

Christensen has a unique style that I have fallen in love with. I don't know why. I just love the hidden meaning and references. I love his appreciation for traditional family values and his respect for women. I love his quirky sense of humour and his depiction of fairies, angels, trolls, Shakespearean characters, religious figures, etc.

Isn't this one dreamy?

A Place of Her Own

Responsible Woman

The Unopened Letter

This one reminds me of a story I recently watched on a morning news show. Five year old Elena Desserich, dying of cancer, left secret notes for her family to find after her death. Her parents compiled them in a journal of sorts, Notes Left Behind to leave as a legacy to her younger sister, to remember her by. In an interview with her mom, I heard her say that they had found two particular notes that were sealed in envelopes. She and her husband had decided that they would never open the envelopes, because (I'm paraphrasing) "they wanted the insurance that they would always still have a letter from Elena. It would never end." Incredibly sad and incredibly touching.

Back to Christensen, here is my gift to you.

The Listener

I will leave you to interpret this last one on your own. But please tell me that you understand why it so reminded me of you.

xo

Nellie and Blasphemy

J,

Today I received an email from our cousin, Meaghan. She forwarded me this link and asked if I knew it was out. Did you know??

I hope she wouldn't mind me sharing this, but she says, "I am sure Grandma is turning over in her grave but I think I will still have to read this! One reviewer said Gilbert comes off as a bastard and possibly an adulterer.  Blasphemy!! I know having Nellie as a grandmother means you have to be Anne Shirley obsessed as well."

And yes- I am!  I don't know how I never heard about this release. This is from the publisher:

From the Publisher

Adultery, illegitimacy, misogyny, revenge, murder, despair, bitterness, hatred, and death-usually not the first terms associated with L.M. Montgomery. But in The Blythes Are Quoted, completed shortly before her death and never before published in its entirety, Montgomery brought these topics to the forefront in what she intended to be the ninth volume in her bestselling series featuring her beloved heroine Anne. Divided into two sections, one set before and one after the Great War of 1914-1918 …+ read moreAdultery, illegitimacy, misogyny, revenge, murder, despair, bitterness, hatred, and death-usually not the first terms associated with L.M. Montgomery. But in The Blythes Are Quoted, completed shortly before her death and never before published in its entirety, Montgomery brought these topics to the forefront in what she intended to be the ninth volume in her bestselling series featuring her beloved heroine Anne. Divided into two sections, one set before and one after the Great War of 1914-1918, The Blythes Are Quoted contains fifteen episodes that include an adult Anne and her family. Binding these short stories, Montgomery inserted sketches featuring Anne and Gilbert Blythe discussing poems by Anne and their middle son, Walter, who dies as a soldier in the war. By blending poetry, prose, and dialogue, Montgomery was experimenting with storytelling methods in ways she had never before attempted. The Blythes Are Quoted marks the final word of a writer whose work continues to fascinate readers all over the world.

I am almost giddy, I am so excited to read this. Another co-read? (this is a must-purchase and please don't tell me you are not a fan or we can't be friends. or related).

Are you an MJ fan?

Jennie,

We are lovers of the MJ in this house (okay, I'm lying. But I needed to set this clip up).

Enjoy with sound.

Lexi

Am feeling a little... I don't know. Forget what I'm feeling.

Have you seen the documentary, Autism the Musical?



I have probably seen it 5 times already and everytime I do, it brings out new emotions in me. I absolutely fell in love with the different kids it profiles.

Meet Lexi:



My heart aches.

My Go-To's

Jennie Dearest,

Okay. I've been MIA. But not in spirit. I have probably started this post about 15 times since Friday, but have been interrupted repeatedly. I laughed out loud when I read your musings that perhaps this had been my ploy to get you to write a blog of your own. Can't get anything past you,
SmartyPants! Although it isn't true, it is funny.

Music.

You asked what music I turn to. I have such a broad range of favourites and ultimately, I must say that I love everything but heavy metal, house or rap. I love anything acoustic and anything with an acoustic guitar has me in a puddle. I'm not mature enough for jazz or opera, but it has a good story to tell, I'm in. Stories are what I love about country. I have been a proud country-lover since I was a little girl and can handle the ribbing about it. Anything with soul; music that makes your heart bleed because you can hear the angst in the voice or the instrument. Old Motown R&B... Otis Redding is beautiful. I realize more and more how much I'm loving new folk and if I had the time or the freedom to hit the festivals every summer, I would be in heaven. I love so much that's Canadian and am happy to say that I don't just listen out of Canadian pride. Call & Answer has always been one of my favourites. One by U2 just makes my heart soar. Here For a Good Time by Trooper is a tacky tune that has me singing along at the top of my voice whenever I hear it. Adele's voice is pure heaven and Alison Krauss in an angel. Ben Harper, Paolo Nutini and Jack Johnson I can imagine singing to me on a balcony while sipping coffee and Jim Cuddy I can fall asleep to and dream sweet dreams all night.

I've inserted a playlist at the bottom of the blog. Send me an email if you'd like the login info to add your favourites to it.

Who I Am

Jennie,

You've been asking. Because you're nosy like that..
What is life like now that the kids are in school. What does it look like for me.

On my other blog, I participated in a Writer's Challenge and thought that my 'poem' (if you could call it that. I think it's just an excuse to cover up my sentences that I'm too lazy to provide with punctuation) might answer those questions.

Write a poem describing who you are and/or who you are not.

When I wake up, I am comatose
I am a hand that slaps off the alarm
I am the foot that nudges my husband to get up
I am the zombie that brushes my teeth
I am running late

When I hit the kitchen, the switch has been flicked
I am a multi-tasker
I am the short-order cook
I am the fastest diaper changer, backpack-packer you've ever seen
I am a well oiled machine

When I get behind the wheel, I am Zen
I am lost in my head, lost in my internal daily planner
I am the voice that repeatedly tells Will to quit playing with the window
I am the voice that sings Sesame Street
I am the eyes in the rear-view mirror admiring my boys

When I get to the school, I am melancholic
I am sad to say goodbye
I am proud of where they are
I am the appearance of a Wonder Woman
I am putting on a good show, thanks to my well-behaved boys

Now I am alone.
Now I don't know who I am.
Without the chores.
Without the boys.
Without the husband.
Without the clock.
Who am I?

I am not afraid.
I am not depressed.
I am not bored.
I am not restless.
I am not searching.
I am not unsatisfied.

I am entering a new chapter
I am figuring it out
I am thankful to have this chance
I am going to take care of myself
I am determined to carve out my spot
I am on the path
I am proud
I am confident

When it's 2pm, I am Mom again
I am my children.

But I never forget that tomorrow at 10, I will work at figuring out who Stacey is, again.