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Virtually giving thanks
It’s been a strange Thanksgiving weekend. There was no family gathering, no turkey, no stuffing and no cranberry sauce. Without the festivities to keep me occupied, I put the garden to bed and covered the patio furniture. These are things that remind me we’re about to be shut in our houses, with cold weather coming. It usually reminds me of gatherings in front of fire places, red wine shared and the promise of Christmas coming faster than I want to admit. But this year, there’s a depressing painting spreading out in front of me. The global coronavirus, and our inability… Read more…
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The hard work of families
Families are hard work. Whether they’re the ones you’re born into, the ones you marry into, or the ones you grow along the way, the roads are full of bumps and bruises, tears and hurt feelings, temper tantrums, secrets and exasperation. Of course, they’re balanced by – and hopefully tipped in favour of – sweet memories and raucous laughter, sticky fingers and kisses, stolen glances shared moments and celebrations. I grew up in a very small family. My parents were immigrants from the UK, so every time we sat down for dinner it was a family reunion. But even back in… Read more…
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What’s in a name?
I changed my last name when I got married. Thirty years ago, that wasn’t uncommon. I went from a bland 5 letter surname to a bland 4 letter surname. 15 years ago, I got divorced and I kept that name. It was the same name my children had, and I wanted to cement the connection – and not make another change in their young lives. In the last year or so though, I’ve begun to wonder. Should I change it back? Professionally, I was only known by my maiden name for 6 months, so it hardly makes sense in that…
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How does your garden grow?
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? This nursery rhyme was part of my childhood. I remember as a very young child, walking through our garden in the summer evenings with my Dad when he returned home from work. In my memory, I was fresh from a bath, with damp hair down my back, my little hand in his great big grownup one. I’ve carried that love of gardening into my own grownup life. One of the great joys of working from home has been watching my garden come to life this spring. From the very beginnings of… Read more…
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Breaking bread
I finally broke. After weeks of self-isolation and alternately mocking and cursing the people hoarding baking supplies (I really did run out of baking powder), I finally joined the ranks of those baking bread from scratch. A few of weeks ago, a dear friend sent me a care parcel (courtesy of porch drop-off by her husband) of lentil soup, Turkish delight and – wait for it – sour dough starter. The starter sat in the back of my fridge in hibernation until last weekend, when I realized that I’d better bring it out, warm it up and start feeding it, so hibernation didn’t… Read more…
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Moving Day!
Today is moving day. After carefully nurturing my public musings through their babyhood and toddler years, my blog has outgrown its original home and is ready for more. When my kids were six, they all left the safety of their kindergarten classes and headed off to a new school to begin Grade 1. It feels rather fitting that my blog (my fourth baby?) is making a move at the same age. So today, I unveil the new Act2 Scene1 in its new home. You’ll find new features, including a graphic identity, a more robust commenting feature (I do hope you’ll use it and… Read more…
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Learning to walk alone
I’m a person of some faith – and many friends – so the “walk alone” in this title of this post isn’t meant metaphorically, but in this case more tangibly. I wrote about “women’s best friend” a few years ago on this blog. I’ve had the same canine companion since 2006. Since then, there have been endless long walks together. Along suburban streets, through local forests and ravines and across frozen lakes. We’ve scrambled down banks and jumped across streams more times than I can count. All you had to do was say, “walk” and she would come running. But my… Read more…
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Are you happy
I’m reading a book called The Happiness Curve. It posits that our 30s and 40s are the most unhappy decades of our lives – where stress lives and where things bottom out, so to speak – and that in our 50s, we regain a great deal of balance and happiness. I think there’s some truth to that, at least in my somewhat privileged Canadian experience. I have a circle of friends who are either approaching or are just past that magic half-century mark and we’re all seeing a bright shiny future coming closer and closer. We’ve been heard humming Pharrell Williams’ iconic song. Many of… Read more…
