At this point your as much a part of my life as though I'd known you forever.
So when I have these chats I'm very animated in my mind.............you are, after all, sitting in front of me with your coffee and we're laughing or crying or angry or whatever other emotion comes out of these " talks ".( hopefully it's mostly laughter - you know the kind where you're snorting and tears are in your eyes? THAT kind )
My hands are flying as I try to explain things .............I put on a British accent when repeating something John has said - and you reply in kind.
I look a mess sometimes - so do you.
We discuss what color the dresser in my entry way should go - you reprimand me and say " Get to it already "
When one of your names pop up in the comments - a name maybe I haven't seen in a while - my heart melts and a big old smile appears out of nowhere.
You have become, through no fault of your own, my friends.
I'm grateful for each and every one of you - more than I can put in words on a silly little blog.
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Ok - let's get that emotional crap outta here !
Let's see now................
Oh - my real estate agent MAXENCE RENAUD called me on Wednesday to wish me a Happy Birthday
How sweet is that?
He's the one that sold us my beloved Victorian flat - and he's the one that sold it for us when we listed..
Maxence - I'm crazy about you - but you really should have talked me out of selling it !!!!!!!!!
If anyone is looking for an agent - give him a call - he and his wife are fabulous
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Maybe you can help me diagnose this?
I have a small patch on one of my elbows that's very rough - not normal rough as in dry skin - but super rough as in it feels like Velcro...................no matter how much cream I put on it, it stays.
It's also discolored - looks like a bruise ( with no pain at all or itch for that matter - it's just there )
Is there a physician in the house?
Every time I go to the doctor I completely forget to ask about it.
Velcro-itis.
Other then being able to pick up dust cloths with them ( when my hands are full ) I don't like it.
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WHY, on average, do men age better than women?
Most of them could care less after all while we try desperately to slow the whole process down, but besides that, they actually SUIT the aging process..............
The grey hair - the deep laugh lines - the weathered faces....................men end up looking like cowboys and we end up looking like .....................cows.
Do you think it's because of the Garden of Eden?
Because we're already tortured with childbirth over THAT issue ( I could just smack Eve right across the face really - thoughtless - selfish - silly woman )
I don't know - but something seems out of whack with all of it.
I want aging equality. ( along with pay equality of course )
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I'm so tired of seeing young girls advertising for anti wrinkle creams - it's absurd. If those creams actually worked these young babes faces would disappear.
Or people who have very obviously have had ultra white veneers placed on their teeth sadly tell the camera they need to use a whitening product or they can't smile. Talk about making the general public never want to smile again.
Or medications whose side affects would make you want to just hang yourself before taking them ( which is ironic since suicidal tendencies are actually often one of the side effects )
Or dish washing liquid that can cut through a slimy bowl of oil ( like the parting of the Red Sea ) and make it vanish
Or shampoo that can make your hair curl on it's own and thicken in moments.
Or insurance men that pop up from nowhere when you need them. Seriously? This one irks me the most.
Or people that start rambling off in foreign languages that they learned from C.D's.
I think there should be a button on the bottom of the screen - like they do on You Tube - where you can
SKIP AD after a few seconds. Begone, you insulting ads !
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When I read about the part where the Carpenter cleared the temple ......................
Christian minister Creflo Dollar asks for $60 million donation to bless congregation with private plane
People, when your minister asks for something like this - please remind him that he isn't actually Jesus............
And if Jesus rode a donkey then surely this minister can fly economy.
It boggles the mind - completely - almost to the point of my brain collapsing and leaking right out of my ears.
And Mr. Minister?
YOU should try to put your hand in the hand of the Man who stilled the water............................
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This next part is a rant.......................but I'm throwing it in with a chat.
I've been reading about " people " in North America who are being investigated for wanting to join terrorist groups overseas.
While some are " home grown " most are immigrants.
There have always been immigrants - there always will be - searching for a better life - if my ancestor's hadn't wanted it I wouldn't be here after all...........but there's been a shift in the " immigrant experience " since I was a young girl.
Back in the 60's I can remember young girls and boys being introduced to us in our classrooms - they couldn't speak a word of English and I remember always feeling empathetic towards their struggle to fit in - I can also remember befriending them ( like the little do-gooder I was ) and taking them under my wing - protecting them from bullies - teaching them to speak English - learning about their cultures ( which always fascinated me ) and making them feel like they were " home ".whenever they visited our house - introducing them to the foods we ate..............sharing my clothes etc.
I can also remember sitting in their kitchens while some exotic ( to me ) food was cooking on the stove and trying to teach their Mothers new words.
This was a very big part of my childhood - and - having been city born and bred - it was quite a common occurrence in my elementary school years. Montreal in the 60's, was after all the decade of EXPO ' 67
( great link of that particular World's Exposition ) the largest in the world for the 20th century and was a proverbial melting pot of many nationalities and the cultures that came with it.
Had I grown up in a rural area my experience would have been entirely different obviously - but being a
" city rat " ( as opposed to a country mouse ) I had the world at my doorstep - quite literally.
There was Sylvia from Spain
Who I learned a little bit of Spanish from - and walked around asking everyone what they were doing on the weekend in Spanish for a good 6 months or so.
Vasilios from Greece
Who gave me a little Eiffel Tower pendant on my Valentine's day card - the only 8 year old who got jewellery on her card that year
Rachel from Israel
Whose Mother had strange numbers on the inside of her wrists but served me the most delicious Jewish foods with the warmest smile
Anat from Egypt
Who tried to teach me belly dancing to my Mother's horror - at 9 years old
Maria from Portugal
Who lived next door and whose barbie doll could only speak Portuguese - while mine responded in English
Ella from Sweden
Whose apartment fascinated me because it was - looking back - a page right out of IKEA - long before North Americans knew what IKEA was
Alicia from Morocco
Who wore exotic gold bangles on her wrists that jingle jangle jingled and two gold bands on her fingers that were connected by a chain ! I wanted those rings !
(Oh and there was Fiona - who was from Scotland and whose parents were nudists...............I wasn't allowed to go there once my Mother found out -
" Mommy - they walk around bare- a -naked !!! "
but she didn't really count as an immigrant in my mind because we spoke the same language.)
All this to say that I was exposed - from a very young age - to different cultures and for the most part I was in awe of every single one of them.
But the thing that really stands out in my mind is that while I was fascinated by their differences - they were all - every single one of them - struggling to assimilate - to shed those differences as quickly as they could - to be more like me. And within a couple of years they were exactly like me - except for Vasilios - he ended up exactly like my brother, but since I had a childhood friend ( a boy ) who liked boys - that wouldn't have even been weird in my little world.
I can still remember some of the Parents - in broken English - telling me that Canada was the best Country on earth - that they thanked God daily to be here.
Looking back I see now that they taught me far more than the few English words I taught them -
They taught me that differences were to be embraced - that it wasn't scary or lesser than - it was just - well
different.
WHEN DID THAT CHANGE EXACTLY?
This next part is written for you - you know who you are.
You're the one that's come here and does nothing but complain.
You're the one that refuses to assimilate - who considers us immoral
You're the one that doesn't want your children playing with ours
You're the one that takes from my Government while picketing on the street against my Government
You're the one that screams discrimination on a constant basis
You're the one that has our laws changed to accommodate your beliefs
You're the one that can't abide by our standard of living ( except for the money - you do so love our money )
You're the one that calls us ( fill in the blank ) phobics
There's a lot of you - too many - and you give the rest of your family a very bad name.
They remain silent when they shouldn't because your voice is over powering.
I GET that I'm completely different to you -
I got that at 8 years old in elementary school
The thing is - and I don't think you ever really consider this -
YOU are also completely different to me. Your language and your clothes and your religion are different to me as well.
Not only is it different - it's sometimes completely alien - and if I'm willing to stretch out my arms and say
" Welcome " I at least expect you to reach out yours and say " I'm happy to be here "
Let me tell you - you're no SYLVIA or VASILIOS or RACHEL or ANAT or MARIA or ELLA or even an ALICIA
You're someone who has taken advantage of where you now sit and grumble.
I don't, for a minute, believe where you came from is infinitely better than where you are now.
Nice try.
I'm talking about about what a Country stands for - what's it's built on ( by previous immigrants I might add )
As we're paying over the top taxes to ensure our doors remain open - we don't appreciate hearing that you don't like what we're serving.
There's other " restaurants " out there in the world - if you don't like what's on the menu in Canada - in the States - in Britain - in France -
Well...........please, by all means - choose another place to go to.
And don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
At the end of the day embracing is a two way street - it can't be one side doing it all - we need to be hugged back from time to time.
We ( fill in the blank Country here ) may not be perfect - in fact you could probably teach us a thing or two or three or four - but not while complaining about us on a daily basis.
Trust me - from a 3 rd generation removed immigrant - you're going about it the wrong way.
Completely.
This Country that allows you the freedom to bitch about us?
We're getting pretty damn tired of it.
Amen.
Que estas haciendo este fin de semana?
John says - You're going to offend a lot of people Suzan
Suzan says - Really? I hope I'm not - I hope there's not that many people that hate us out there
John says - Just saying - I think you should stick to furniture makeovers..............
So - I want to - need to clarify something here.
This post was not written for every immigrant in general - I thought I was very clear on that - just some of them in particular.
The ones that act like it's a punishment that they're here at all -
The ones that get here and then plot to do harm -
The ones that never should have been allowed to enter in the first place.
Again,
You know who you are.
We're not ( fill in the blank ) phobic - we're just sick to death of it.
And you.
( Oh and you home grown ones? You're in a category all on your own - a post for another day - I can only handle so much bile at a time )
_________________________________________________________________________________
Phew..................I'm putting the kettle on again, want a refill?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Here in Montreal.
Spring Sprang
Spring left
Spring returned
Spring took a break
Winter threatened to show up again
Spring jumped back in the game.
It's like watching a freaking tennis match.
One day people are jogging down the street in shorts
The next they have their winter coats on
We went from 25 C ( that's in the 70's for Americans ) last weekend - and now they're calling for mixed precipitation this weekend. MIXED PRECIPITATION !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Snow AND Rain.
THIS is why Canadians walk around in a state of mass confusion ............................if anyone visits us for a vacation in the Spring - you'll notice us walking around either scowling - or skipping around like Tiny Tin tiptoeing through the tulips - do not be alarmed. You have to walk a mile in our shoes to get it.
It's not exactly Spring in Paris.
________________________________________________________________________________
Back in the 60's I can remember young girls and boys being introduced to us in our classrooms - they couldn't speak a word of English and I remember always feeling empathetic towards their struggle to fit in - I can also remember befriending them ( like the little do-gooder I was ) and taking them under my wing - protecting them from bullies - teaching them to speak English - learning about their cultures ( which always fascinated me ) and making them feel like they were " home ".whenever they visited our house - introducing them to the foods we ate..............sharing my clothes etc.
I can also remember sitting in their kitchens while some exotic ( to me ) food was cooking on the stove and trying to teach their Mothers new words.
This was a very big part of my childhood - and - having been city born and bred - it was quite a common occurrence in my elementary school years. Montreal in the 60's, was after all the decade of EXPO ' 67
( great link of that particular World's Exposition ) the largest in the world for the 20th century and was a proverbial melting pot of many nationalities and the cultures that came with it.
Had I grown up in a rural area my experience would have been entirely different obviously - but being a
" city rat " ( as opposed to a country mouse ) I had the world at my doorstep - quite literally.
There was Sylvia from Spain
Who I learned a little bit of Spanish from - and walked around asking everyone what they were doing on the weekend in Spanish for a good 6 months or so.
Vasilios from Greece
Who gave me a little Eiffel Tower pendant on my Valentine's day card - the only 8 year old who got jewellery on her card that year
Rachel from Israel
Whose Mother had strange numbers on the inside of her wrists but served me the most delicious Jewish foods with the warmest smile
Anat from Egypt
Who tried to teach me belly dancing to my Mother's horror - at 9 years old
Maria from Portugal
Who lived next door and whose barbie doll could only speak Portuguese - while mine responded in English
Ella from Sweden
Whose apartment fascinated me because it was - looking back - a page right out of IKEA - long before North Americans knew what IKEA was
Alicia from Morocco
Who wore exotic gold bangles on her wrists that jingle jangle jingled and two gold bands on her fingers that were connected by a chain ! I wanted those rings !
(Oh and there was Fiona - who was from Scotland and whose parents were nudists...............I wasn't allowed to go there once my Mother found out -
" Mommy - they walk around bare- a -naked !!! "
but she didn't really count as an immigrant in my mind because we spoke the same language.)
All this to say that I was exposed - from a very young age - to different cultures and for the most part I was in awe of every single one of them.
But the thing that really stands out in my mind is that while I was fascinated by their differences - they were all - every single one of them - struggling to assimilate - to shed those differences as quickly as they could - to be more like me. And within a couple of years they were exactly like me - except for Vasilios - he ended up exactly like my brother, but since I had a childhood friend ( a boy ) who liked boys - that wouldn't have even been weird in my little world.
I can still remember some of the Parents - in broken English - telling me that Canada was the best Country on earth - that they thanked God daily to be here.
Looking back I see now that they taught me far more than the few English words I taught them -
They taught me that differences were to be embraced - that it wasn't scary or lesser than - it was just - well
different.
WHEN DID THAT CHANGE EXACTLY?
This next part is written for you - you know who you are.
You're the one that's come here and does nothing but complain.
You're the one that refuses to assimilate - who considers us immoral
You're the one that doesn't want your children playing with ours
You're the one that takes from my Government while picketing on the street against my Government
You're the one that screams discrimination on a constant basis
You're the one that has our laws changed to accommodate your beliefs
You're the one that can't abide by our standard of living ( except for the money - you do so love our money )
You're the one that calls us ( fill in the blank ) phobics
There's a lot of you - too many - and you give the rest of your family a very bad name.
They remain silent when they shouldn't because your voice is over powering.
I GET that I'm completely different to you -
I got that at 8 years old in elementary school
The thing is - and I don't think you ever really consider this -
YOU are also completely different to me. Your language and your clothes and your religion are different to me as well.
Not only is it different - it's sometimes completely alien - and if I'm willing to stretch out my arms and say
" Welcome " I at least expect you to reach out yours and say " I'm happy to be here "
Let me tell you - you're no SYLVIA or VASILIOS or RACHEL or ANAT or MARIA or ELLA or even an ALICIA
You're someone who has taken advantage of where you now sit and grumble.
I don't, for a minute, believe where you came from is infinitely better than where you are now.
Nice try.
I'm talking about about what a Country stands for - what's it's built on ( by previous immigrants I might add )
As we're paying over the top taxes to ensure our doors remain open - we don't appreciate hearing that you don't like what we're serving.
There's other " restaurants " out there in the world - if you don't like what's on the menu in Canada - in the States - in Britain - in France -
Well...........please, by all means - choose another place to go to.
And don't let the door hit your ass on the way out.
At the end of the day embracing is a two way street - it can't be one side doing it all - we need to be hugged back from time to time.
We ( fill in the blank Country here ) may not be perfect - in fact you could probably teach us a thing or two or three or four - but not while complaining about us on a daily basis.
Trust me - from a 3 rd generation removed immigrant - you're going about it the wrong way.
Completely.
This Country that allows you the freedom to bitch about us?
We're getting pretty damn tired of it.
Amen.
Que estas haciendo este fin de semana?
John says - You're going to offend a lot of people Suzan
Suzan says - Really? I hope I'm not - I hope there's not that many people that hate us out there
John says - Just saying - I think you should stick to furniture makeovers..............
So - I want to - need to clarify something here.
This post was not written for every immigrant in general - I thought I was very clear on that - just some of them in particular.
The ones that act like it's a punishment that they're here at all -
The ones that get here and then plot to do harm -
The ones that never should have been allowed to enter in the first place.
Again,
You know who you are.
We're not ( fill in the blank ) phobic - we're just sick to death of it.
And you.
( Oh and you home grown ones? You're in a category all on your own - a post for another day - I can only handle so much bile at a time )
_________________________________________________________________________________
Phew..................I'm putting the kettle on again, want a refill?
_________________________________________________________________________________
Here in Montreal.
Spring Sprang
Spring left
Spring returned
Spring took a break
Winter threatened to show up again
Spring jumped back in the game.
It's like watching a freaking tennis match.
One day people are jogging down the street in shorts
The next they have their winter coats on
We went from 25 C ( that's in the 70's for Americans ) last weekend - and now they're calling for mixed precipitation this weekend. MIXED PRECIPITATION !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Snow AND Rain.
THIS is why Canadians walk around in a state of mass confusion ............................if anyone visits us for a vacation in the Spring - you'll notice us walking around either scowling - or skipping around like Tiny Tin tiptoeing through the tulips - do not be alarmed. You have to walk a mile in our shoes to get it.
It's not exactly Spring in Paris.
________________________________________________________________________________
Does anyone else find the new way of announcing a pregnancy a little strange?
WE'RE PREGNANT ???
Every time I hear it, I think " huh ? "
I mean I can understand " WE'RE expecting "
But in my world only one of you is pregnant .................
Anyway Ashley and Chris are pregnant as most of you know...................
And if they can say we - I figured I could throw myself into the mix too.
So WE'RE ALL PREGNANT - THE THREE OF US !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND the ultra sound was yesterday -
AND WE'RE HAVING A BABY BOY !
His name is Evan ( according to Ashley and I - Chris is not 100% on board with it - but the way I see it is that we are 2 thirds of this pregnancy - so we rule him out )
His name is Evan ( according to Ashley and I - Chris is not 100% on board with it - but the way I see it is that we are 2 thirds of this pregnancy - so we rule him out )
It's a very difficult thing to try to express this type of joy - so I'll just say this.
It's unlike anything I've ever felt before - it's in a class all by itself -
Hi Evan.................hurry up sweetheart - I need to hold you.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Ok folks - I'm not putting the kettle on again for a third time - this is it - this is all she wrote
( until next Friday anyway )
You all have the most wonderful of weekends
Much love,
Me
