2scenes, 1view

Somebody took these two pictures, one shortly after the other, of one night during christmas season, 40some year ago.
I'm doing a point and name here, from picture left, don't know who, then granny naylor one, looking sad as usual, me, randy, debbi, two donelly's, grandpa naylor on the couch behind, rob, enjoying his new christmas gift, and the blue dressed figure, comes up in the next picture.

see, it's mother naylor, operating the 16mm tape recorder we had then. second half of the same view. you'd think it was a big room. it was bigger than my current living room.
the two donelly's , me and randy, moved over for the second shot, as you can see. ted donelly, my dad's brother in law, is in the far right corner.
3 unknowns here...the fellow in the black suit, middle right, then far right, the lady in black dress, arms folded, on an old chair brought up from the rumpus room. and in first picture, lady on the far left, in the other extra christmas time chair. Note the references to past posts regarding grandpa naylor, with the very brown eyes, and the green polyester covered chair, indeed a rocker, with granny naylor 1 looking despondent within. fascinating where people look when being photographed, eh?

(the chair looks blue here, but it was indeed flourescent type electric lime green. it was either discarded, or spirited away by some family member.)

"Kitten and Me", picture titled by Kristy

Em just sent me this.

I'll post anything anyone wants in this here family blog.

Wait for the comments.

Sam and Shep

When i was younger, living with my family, we always had pets. Dogs, cats, birds, hamsters, and the occasional goldfish.

The big dogs, i think, were all called, Shep. Except the one's that weren't shepherds. Lassie, the collie, was very early, and i have no pics of her, there was also a Samoyed, don't remember the name, but it wasn't around for long. The big dogs lived outside, in a doghouse my dad built, very deluxe, asphalt shingles atop, for real dry inside space,....in the extreme dead of winter they would come in, down the stairs, and warm next to the furnace. I can't say which dogs are portrayed in these pictures. The shepherds were the one's i remember most. One of them was quite unruly for a fenced yard, very overly protective of the back gate, once scared the Naylor grandparents, visiting from Kelowna, in such a way that they wouldn't come in the yard, someone had to come hold back the dog. That one went to live in Raymond, Southern Alberta, with my Sister's family, and from what i've heard had a habit of interacting, in the dark, with the local cat population, not in a good way. And might have had someone get up in the middle of the night to bury the evidence out of town.

The small dogs, which always lived inside, except in the bright warm sun of summer, were sometimes called Sam.

The one you see in these pics is perhaps Sam 2, a pomeranian. With a wicked looking lower left canine tooth. Freaky. There was a pekingese before that, and a smallish mostly poodle mix, after that. And it did NOT die from licking the lawn after i had sprayed said lawn with Malathion, to subdue the mosquito's and ants.

I don't remember much of the cats. Except boots, and spencer. Maybe someday i'll have the patience to keep a cat.

There was a budgie, in a cage, atop the fridge, likely named budgie, that was occasionally left to fly about the house, on the wing. Some of the persons who might have released budgie to the open air space might have been trying to solicit a response from perhaps my youngest(?) sister, who at that time found that particular bird a bit frightful.

There's also a story about the hamsters, mostly tragic.

I think i have a picture of a few of the goldfish, in a bowl.

Suffice it to say, we like animals. Pet type animals.

Jimmy and Johnny Quinton

Granny, Marion, Mom, suggested i post the second picture you see here, of My brother Randy and I, in VERY stylish mountie uniforms, sitting in our back yard, when the trees weren't much bigger than we were, with our friends, Jimmy and Johnny Quinton. I've mentioned them before, Jimmy was my age, Johnny was Randy's age. We spent a lot of time with them as playmates.

I included the first picture because it was obviously taken on the same occasion, and i wanted y'all to see our swing set, and sandbox underneath.

So, with no further adieu, let me introduce the intended main portion of this post, Unohoo's comment:

Precious Memories

I nicked the line "Precious memories, how they linger", from one of my Dad's favorite songs, sang by the Statler Brothers. Country Gospel is one of the many genre of music i love. If you like country gospel, look up this song, it's quite lovely. Lyrics here within.

Precious memories, unseen angels,
Sent from somewhere to my soul,
How they linger, ever near me,
And the sacred past unfold.

Precious memories,
how they linger,
How they ever flood my soul,
In the stillness of the midnight,
Precious, sacred scenes unfold.

Precious father, loving mother,
Fly across the lonely years,
And old homescenes of my childhood,
In fond memory appears.

Precious memories, how they linger,
How they ever flood my soul,
In the stillness of the midnight,
Precious, sacred scenes unfold.

In the stillness of the midnight,
Echoes from the past I hear,
Old time singing, gladness bringing,
From that lovely land somewhere.

Precious memories, how they linger,
How they ever flood my soul,
In the stillness of the midnight,
Precious, sacred scenes unfold.

As I travel on life's pathway,
Know not what the years may hold,
As I ponder, hope grows fonder,
Precious memories flood my soul.

Precious memories, how they linger,
How they ever flood my soul,
In the stillness of the midnight,
Precious, sacred scenes unfold.

Just a slide

My 2 thoughts regarding this pic, i recognize the furniture, and we seem to all look like ourselves. Though i'm not sure which self Judy is wearing.

"The Naylor Family", by Mother Naylor

Mrs. Naylor sent me two pics of "The Naylor Family", on which she would like to comment. So set aside a few hours. I don't know the why or the wherefore of the second one, but i do remember the suit i was wearing. The other, bit more casual, is all 9 of us..i asked for it to be included, someone was reluctant because "the boys in the back look too dark"...but i edited it up a bit. More like, the boys in the back are just plain funny looking.

October Fifth Nineteen Sixty Six

Happy Sixth Birthday, my Brother.

Sorry, don't mean to make anyone cry, but this is in fact the next post. And these are precious memories. My Brother Randy's Sixth Birthday, in the dining room, with family and friends and family friends, a two layer chocolate(?) cake with green icing, and a big "6" in chocolate chips. (I quoted that because i consider writing in chocolate chips as original work, so i'm quoting the Photographer, and the Cakemaker). The other pic in this 2-shot is the rest of the party. I'm just doing a point and name though.

Starting from the left, i don't really know who that is, Granny does i suppose. And if she does, you'll surely hear about it. Hate me yet? Badumpbadump.

The Birthday Boy is the next around the table, my Brother Randall Hugh Naylor. Notice how He's barely mugging for the camera? Not his style. The attention seeking.

Next is my Brother Robby, aka Rob, in full name, Robert Douglas Naylor, leaning over the table WAY mugging for the camera.

Then there's 3 Quintons, good friends from down the street, first Johnny, with the blue balloon, then Debbie, My Sister Debbi's best friend then,

then Jimmy. Jimmy was my age, Johnny was Randy's age, Debbie was Debbi's age, and the other Quinton, Robb, was Brother Rob's age. I don't remember who moved into the neighbourhood first, i was only 10 months when we moved in. But four kids, four same ages, two kinda same first names? Freaky? Or what?

Beside her friend Debbie, is My Sister Debbi, holding the red balloon, doing something different in smiling for the camera. Smiling towards the corner ceiling. She's special that way. SMILES EVERYBODY!!

And then there's the spazzmo Me, ready to fly off with them Dumbo ears, and apparently a bit presumptuous holding a candy collecting plastic pumpkin 3something weeks before Halloween.

Don't i wish i was there?

Vermilion back porch 2

I thought, on a light note, i could post the other picture from the back of gramma m.'s back porch.

I wonder if it's Judy taking this picture?

Like the other picture, it's still four generations. Because David in the back is the baby davey's uncle. Did mom plan the theme for these two pictures, or did the camera person for this picture coax her onto the screen?

I don't remember dad being up there much, mostly mom driving us out in one of the VW beetles.

So i'm guessing it was Judy.

Conspicuously, they chose David over Moi, to represent! the third generation. That was the style back then. Multi-gen pics.

Mom had some big hair then. Wore it with style, don't ya think?

I have the same themed picture, taken at our house, on the very long couch, with a more pastoral a pose, (and even bigger hair). If you're interested.

YAAAAY, i did a short post! I'm a super doofus.

Ode to Grace

This is not the next slide of which i had had previously, ideas to share. I've had to think about it. And here's where i'm going;

Mom after a tiring day at work, (at Bonnie Doon Mall), resting, in the living room, on the very long couch i used in student residence, in HUB Mall, some twenty years later.

Some interesting asides; doesn't she look soulful in pink?

It has to be dad taking the picture....wonder what he was thinking/feeling?

Notice the glasses on the top of the couch? Click on the pic, gets real big, check em out, way cool.

A personal aside, if all my siblings were reading my blog, i would be in seventh heaven. And probably obsessed with embarrassing them all. Kidding.

My intended message regarding this picture; My own experience with the changes we've seen in this family in the too recent past. I speak only for myself, my sibs can speak for themselves, (Though they know i already know what they think, like, uh, i can't read them like a book? ...A very interesting book of course. Smiles.)

For as long as i can remember of my adult life, i've thought my Mom, the Lady on the couch, would be the first to go...her chronic high blood pressure, and other things..she was just damn tired i would say..refer to picture....and i feared losing her first, not knowing how to deal with Dad....missing her terribly....and, selfish as i am, wishing against odds having her to ourselves...yes, i'll say it, without Dad.

Then something came along, out of the blue, (more like fire from hell..which i don't like btw), and Dad, being the big ole strong guy he was, ignored the pains in his belly, for years, (Judy remembers a trip with Mom and Dad, and he would hold his stomach while driving.....was a year before the diagnosis..Mother couldn't see it, Judy would), He finally got to a doctor, CAT scan week later, and we all know the shock of the results. Dad, and Mom, were the first to hear it. Freak on that. Good thing i can cry and type at the same time. I'm not going to say the 't.c.' words.

The next few months were pure hell. I was overwhelmed with shock, despair, and trying to imagine how Dad was thinking. One day when i was sitting with him while you others were out on an errand, he asked me, "why don't i just end it?", i don't remember my exact response, but it was something like, because you don't want to. Knowing him as i do, his despair then is beyond my imagination.

Then the place he moved to, more quickly than i would have liked.

The night i remember, Mom, Judy, David, Jackie, Linda, and Stu were there, Dad was almost gone, i sat beside him, the only sittin' space left, held his left hand with my right, he liked that, i could tell, and i held my left hand on his forehead. Judy and David also came to his bedside to physically comfort him. It was the most complete, and memorable moment i've ever had.

That night is my last, and best memory of Dad. I'm not sure, but i think it was a few days after when he passed.

When i first started writing this, it was eventually going to be about how we all were so glad to have Mom still around, how we had gotten a special second chance to know her, but had paid dearly for it. I sure didn't see it coming.

But getting through what i've said about that sad time, with Dad, took the wind out of me. I got to the original intended ending, and had a good cry in the process besides, so this is just fine.

Now the Man behind the camera has left us....and the Lady on the couch is alive and ticking. Thank Heavens. And Hell. Seems stuff evens its self out. Still hurts though.

One Picture, One Post

I've decided i can talk about just one picture per post, and this is the result. This is a picture taken by granny/mom/marion off the back porch of my gramma Morrison's house, in Vermilion, Alberta. A lovely wee hoose, i remember it well. Funny thing, it's easier to guess David's age than my own in this picture. Though the photographer would certainly remember more detail than i. So, in the plainness of listed identities, starting from the left, we have, my Gramma Morrison, Christina Graham nee Wilson Morrison. The best gramma i've ever had. (Sorry, snipped that from dad, always saying, "Min, this is the best supper i've had today"...what a card), my gramma who when babysitting me once dealt with me having stepped, in bare feet, on a nail , in a board, in the backyard. Why it was there, i would think there had been recent carpentry on the houseward post for the clothesline, and i walked into another accident. Prone, even. The nail went through the top of my left foot, dragged the board into the kitchen, granny m. extracted it, disinfected the wound, very little bleeding involved, missed anything vascular, patched it up, and i was good as new. Good old Scottish medicine. Didn't need any shots, to heck with that, i survived. Good old Scottish immunity. I still rely on it today.

Sitting on the porch, hanging on her great gramma, is Melanie Anne Francis Fredette, my oldest niece. It's so interesting, she still has that welcoming, loving face to this very day. She (probably comically) calls me her favourite uncle. That might mean she's a bit like me...kooky.

Then there's my second eldest sister, Judith Anne Naylor, you'll hear more about her some later post, she's a lot of memory to me. Suffice it to say, she saved me from being called 'Russell', at birth. THANK YOU, SISTER JUDY.

And in her lap, her second child, my nephew, David Arthur Joshua Fredette. I request mom/granny to comment regarding Davey boy, she knows most of us better than we know ourselves. I would rather hear her insights regarding Davey than imagining my own.

Next, to the east, is my brother, David Andrew Naylor. (The house faced north, thus the bright sun lighting this picture). The youngest one of our sibling group, with the olive complexion few others had. We used to tell him he was found on the doorstep, and/or, he was indian. Native Canadian. Nice, eh? Poor, poor Davey. Never, ever, ask to be born last. And in the fine tradition of Naylor practicality, he's wearing tan cotton pants that i wore some years before.

The slinky boy is me, looks like the slinky just came out of the box, as you can see, it wasn't my first slinky. But the slinking down the stairs trick was more interesting than the hand to hand spring travel. Here though, i seem rather interested. The shirt? From a matching set, made by mom for me and my dad. The pants? I don't remember them much, but they came from a store. Very stylish early 70's. I still match prints and stripes. I blame it on the slinky.

Precious memories, how they linger....

Yet again another silly post. I like the term "comfort food"....though it's getting a bit overused, so let's just say these are foodstuffs i could always eat, in any state of despair, or disrepair.

bulgogi, from bulgogi house, ( korean, been going there since high school),

mom's tuna, or turkey casserole,

the family meatloaf recipe, though Linda Rae improved it by making it in a low cake pan, more sauce per serving, more the better, meatcake i suppose,

The excellent beef raviolies i had at Debbi's house, in Shaughnessy, Calgary, when i visited there when Ryan was a toddler, and Kristy was a baby,

chocolate milk, ( in the later years, dad would often bring me 2 litre jugs of Nesquik syrup from the real Canadian wholesale club, on 99th street. Bless his heart),

sliced ripe homegrown tomato, fresh cut, by mom, in the car, on a long drive to SLC, sprinkled with salt and pepper, (almost always how i consume tomatoes now, though when i put up a batch of tomato sauce, i like as many fresh ingredients as i have on hand, nothing better than fresh),

toasted rye bread, with butter and strawberry jam, or in a tomato-dijon sandwich, or as garlic toast....got it from family friends the Rosemanns, had it every day for breakfast when i visited them in bountiful, only kind of bread i eat now,

all foods i would once eat at home...hash..mashed 'tato..cheesed pearl onions,
turkey gravy,
smooshed up soft boiled egg with ketchup, in a melmac coffee cup,
at one time, that horridly rich carrot cake from family past...can't eat cake anymore,
mom's sweet and sour meatballs, when she made chinese food dinner,
milk poached smoked cod, every saturday morning, after the saturday safeway shopping, yum,
cheez whiz, on bread, with bacon bits, and green onion, oven baked,
dill pickles, even the ones that came out of food storage with labels from the '70's,
mashed 'tato, and mince. mixed together. occasionally with ketchup.

Granny can tell you what mince is.
So what foods evoke precious memories for you?

Mom's heartening story #1

(This is all from an email, sent unrequested. see how easy it is to talk through my blog? Open door policy here regarding guest host postings, you send it, i'll use it. Thanks Mom. )

"THIS MIGHT BE BLOG MATERIAL FOR YOU......since just family read it.

Are there any companies left like this one in Alberta?

Rob's friend Danny (Susie's brother) has worked for the same company Rob does for the last seven or eight years. (Rob's worked for these people, man- and- wife- run construction company, for 17 almost 18 years, he got Danny on the payroll there when he, Danny, started). Well, just before Christmas, a contract was cancelled on very short notice, and the firm was obliged to lay off their workers until the next job was scheduled, to begin in January. Poor Danny, with a wife and kids to support, couldn't quite make it on employment insurance, so he gave in and started working for another company in the same field. A few days before Christmas, the wife-boss from his former employment phoned him and said "Danny, I know you're working for so-and-so now, but I need to tell you there's a check and a turkey here for you whenever you can get here to pick them up". And sure enough, there was a bonus check of $500 and a 20 lb. turkey waiting for him. I tell you, Danny was pretty overwhelmed! Rob says this is so typical of his employers, they are such genuinely nice people, he can't say enough good things about them. (They're millionaires, incidentally). Rob himself gets a $1,000 bonus every Christmas. Employers like these people are few and far between I would venture to say.

Rob's doing fine, back to work full-time, and looks like continuous jobs are lined up, so the flagging economy has not hit their part of the construction industry anyway. Son Mitchell lives with him, and that young man has made "a 180-degree turnaround" (Rob's very words), loves his job, has already had a nice raise, and is proving a real asset, both at work and at home.....does the dishes, keeps his room clean, helps with the housework or anything that has to be done around the place, gets himself out of bed two hours before he has to leave for work! Good news.

Rob phones me every week or two, I appreciate my eldest son's love and concern so much....."

(Somebody could write their own blog, i would say. And i gave Danny mom's industrial scale paper cutter, when the house was being emptied. he was very appreciative. I gave Rob one of the string woven stools Dad made in rehab therapy, when he crushed his thumb and forefinger at work. The other one is going to Linda Rae, to do with as she pleases. It's been sitting in my closet for years, needs a new life.)

Standard DRTIYHAL warning

(don't read this if you have a life).

This is barely a post..well...let's just call it a non-post. I just wanted to say, HAPPY V-DAY, everybody! Even if you don't like v-day.

I'm just glad i don't have to work it. 300 reservations we have for tonight, at the restaurant. I'm so happy to have special status at work. Monday to Friday, 9 to 1, is pretty unusual in this biz. Suits me, just fine and dandy.

And oh, if you wanna see some pics of food and stuff, at that place i work, (if you can call it work..more like fun), check out vonssteakhouse.com.

Heheh, i just pimped my own ride. Yeehah!

(Yeah, crude website, i know, but the general manager dude who made it aint as smart as he thinks he is).

What i did at work today, in fuzzy pictures

This post is silly. Don't read it. you'll
regret it. These are fuzzy pictures of some of the many tasks i laboured at today, during my usual four hours of work. Though today was 5 hours, some stupid buy cards with hearts on them day required my EXTRA assistance.
Here above is fuzzy beef stock. Browned beef scraps, carrot, celery, onion, garlic, bayleaf, thyme, black peppercorn, parsely, and overnight cookin'.

Brandied peppercorn sauce. 15 litres. Easy to do, annoying in preparation.











The obligatory jug of habenero and jalopeno tabasco enhanced clamato i drink each day. even tapped the worchestershire today.












one hundred ninety five kilos of meat. all to be put away, by me.

Counted all the oysters, received several shipments of that and other product. These are the malpeques, said to be the best in Canada, from malpeque bay, PEI. The cold water there makes them grow very slow, 6 years to this size. So these oysters have been alive longer than some of your children. (If you have young children.)

The 'Line', as they call it, where the action happens while you wait WAAY too long for your night on the town meal. I set it up each day, heat and install all the various soups, sauces and vegetables in the 'steam table', in the stainless steel 'inserts' that lay atop the large box of steaming hot water. The french call it a, 'bain marie'.

This is in fact my herky-jerky printing, on the servers notice board, (more like dumbass board), with very sketchy info re the oysters currently in stock. And the count, in blue, is current, as of today. Counting day. Please note: if you are, like me, left-handed, printing in dry erase on a white board, SUCKS.

The now pailed 15 litres of brandied peppercorn sauce, essentially a beef sauce tarted up.

I believe it rather clear we've had thoroughly enough of this nonsense. So what makes YOUR camera shake?

The post before the intended post

I had a plan to make this post about what i did at work today. With pictures. So i was taking pictures of work today, but half of them were fuzzy, and i lost the initiative for that particular story. Now i'm copping out yet again, using a highjacked forward. I still have the pictures of work that turned out ok...if you want to see them, shout it out. So, once again by the graces of unohoo, here venture we do.

bleeblahbleeblah.

YOU KNOW YOU ARE LIVING IN 2009 when...
1. You accidentally enter your password on the microwave.
2. You haven't played solitaire with real cards in years.
3. You have a list of 15 phone numbers to reach your family of 3.
4. You e-mail the person who works at the desk next to you.
5. Your reason for not staying in touch with friends and family is that they don't have e-mail addresses.
6. You pull up in your own driveway and use your cell phone to see if anyone is home to help you carry in the groceries.
7. Every commercial on television has a web site at the bottom of the screen.
8. Leaving the house without your cell phone, which you didn't have the first 20 or 30 (or 60) years of your life, is now a cause for panic and you turn around to go and get it.
10. You get up in the morning and go on line before getting your coffee.
11. You start tilting your head sideways to smile. : )
12. You're reading this and nodding and laughing.
13. Even worse, you know exactly to whom you are going to forward this message.
14. You did not notice there was no #9 on this list.
15. You actually scrolled back up to check that there wasn't a #9 on this list.
AND NOW U R LAUGHING AT YOURSELF

Re:Fw:Fw:Fw:...............

You know how in most families that chat via computer, there's always someone who LOVES forwards, and gets lots of them from his/her forward junkie friends? Well, my family has one of those types, and i won't say who because we all know. Unohoo.
I got a forward yesterday, it was semi-funny, so i'm going to post it. And since these forwards are never accredited to anyone, they just fly out of cyberspace, i'm only stealing from the last loser to recieve it. And that would be ME. So, here goes,

TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN BRITISH COLUMBIA
1. Vancouver : 1.5 million people and two bridges. You do the math.2. Your $400,000 Vancouver home is just 5 hours from downtown.3. You can throw a rock and hit three Starbucks locations.4. There's always some sort of deforestation protest going on.5. Weed.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN ALBERTA
1. Big rock between you and BC.2. Ottawa who?3. Tax is 5% instead of the approximately 200% it is for the rest of the country.4. You can exploit almost any natural resource you can think of.5. You live in the only province that could actually afford to be its own country.6. The Americans below you are all in anti-government militia groups.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN SASKATCHEWAN
1. You never run out of wheat.2. Your province is really easy to draw.3. You can watch the dog run away from home for hours.4. People will assume you live on a farm.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN MANITOBA
1. You wake up one morning to find that you suddenly have a beachfront property.2. Hundreds of huge, horribly frigid lakes.3. Nothing compares to a wicked Winnipeg winter.4. You can be an Easterner or a Westerner depending on your mood.5. You can pass the time watching trucks and barns float by.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN ONTARIO
1. You live in the centre of the universe.2. Your $400,000 Toronto home is actually a dump.3. You and you alone decide who will win the federal election.4. The only province with hard-core American-style crime.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN QUEBEC
1. Racism is socially acceptable.2. You can take bets with your friends on which English neighbour will move out next.3. Other provinces basically bribe you to stay in Canada .4. You can blame all your problems on the "Anglo A*#!%!"
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN NEW BRUNSWICK
1. One way or another, the government gets 98% of your income.2. You're poor, but not as poor as the Newfies.3. No one ever blames anything on New Brunswick .4. Everybody has a grandfather who runs a lighthouse.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN NOVA SCOTIA
1. Everyone can play the fiddle. The ones who can't, think they can.2. You can pretend to have Scottish heritage as an excuse to get drunk and wear a kilt.3. You are the only reason Anne Murray makes money.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND
1. Even though more people live on Vancouver Island , you still got the big, new bridge.2. You can walk across the province in half an hour.3. You can drive across the province in two minutes.4. Everyone has been an extra on "Road to Avonlea."5. This is where all those tiny, red potatoes come from.6. You can confuse ships by turning your porch lights on and off at night.
TOP REASONS TO LIVE IN NEWFOUNDLAND
1. If Quebec separates, you will float off to sea.2. If you do something stupid, you have a built-in excuse.3. The workday is about two hours long.4. It is socially acceptable to wear your hip waders to your wedding.
Let's face it, we're a rare breed.

BORED YET? Wanna be on unohoo's forward list? I'll bet YOUR life, you don't. Ta ta.

Good Stuff, Canadeh

i'm not suggesting these things happen only in Canada, i'm just saying it's ok to enjoy the best of wherever it is you live, and have lived, in your life.

universal health care

homemade comedy

the mixing pot

polar bears

tuna casserole

ducks

loonies

an entertaining monarch

weather i'm used to

mountains, lakes, and lots of trees

two languages

feeling like smalltown

cable tv from all over

peacefulness

fries and gravy

easy travel

attracting kind souls from elsewhere

the clean air after snow

actually laughing out loud

manmade lakes in the river valley that freeze enough to be skated on

the kindness of strangers..sometimes life saving

bus drivers that say "good morning" with a smile

family

a barely noticeable government

my memories of every moment i've been here.

Ta'dum.

do you love something about Canada? Care to share? i'd love to hear it.

Funny-bad, not funny-funny, coincidence

This is apt to be a short post, more of an add on to the last one. To heighten the eeriness of my near drowning.

Two years before aforementioned near drowning, in grade 5, my homeroom, towards the end of the school year, decided to have a swimming party, for our end of the year class party. My homeroom teacher was a Mrs. Mcdonald, a very nice lady, and i was pretty much the teachers pet. (As an aside, her daughter, Karen, dated my brother, Rob at one time).
I don't remember how involved Mrs. Mcdonald was in the decision, probably minimally, at best. What the class did not know, is that Mrs. Mcdonald could not swim. Nor could i.

So here's what happened; Mrs. Mcdonald, 3 weeks before said party was to occur, went to the cursed miquelon lake, to practice a little swimming, in the nice shallow cordoned off swimming area. Something i didn't mention before, is that this shallow swimming area is in fact a shelf, and beyond the buoys and floating ropes, the lake bed drops off quickly. Now, i don't know for a fact that she went outside the cordoned swimming area, but i assume so because of what happened next. She drowned. To death. I still cry when i think of it, like now. The next day, i trot off to Strathearn Elementary, and before the school bell rang, the playground was abuzz...little kids running around madly to spread the news as fast as our little legs could take us, "Mrs. Mcdonald is dead, Mrs. Mcdonald is dead". I can't remember how i felt when i heard that, other than stunned, i've repressed the rest, i'm sure.

Anyway, we all felt pretty bad that she drowned trying to practice swimming, for our year end class party. I'm sure it still makes a lot of people cry. Way to screw up a little kids head, eh?
She was one of the nicest ladies you could ever meet. I'm sure my Mother remembers her well.

So ya, freaky freaky stuff. And two years later, in the evil dinghy, i almost did the same thing.

These very sad events taught me two things, which i will share with you as advice.

DON'T SWIM IN MIQUELON LAKE. IT'S CURSED.

NEVER, EVER, EVER, GET INTO A YELLOW AND BLUE DINGHY. IT'S PURE EVIL.

ciao for now, gentle reader.

Someone saved my life one day

I'm continuing a theme i started in my first post, about NOT feeling guilty, paranoid, and delusional about offending family members with familystories i choose to share, here on My Crazy Bad.
So i'm going to re-tell the short story i told on the now extinct 'burnt cookies', the last post up, i doubt any of you read it , other than mother. It's the one i thought would be offensive to somebody, somewhere. That is over my friend.


In grade 7, i went with my two brothers, my sister, and her boyfriend, to miquelon lake, some 30 miles southeast of Edmonton. You might have heard of a certain yellow and blue dinghy i once flew through the air with, to the scratchy asphalt below, and it was in fact the same g-d dinghy that we took to the popular local beach. Decent sand, combed during summer, a nice shallow swimming area marked clearly by bouys and floatropes, and reasonably warm water, for middleland, Alberta, in the appropriately sun warmed shallow zone.

So, once again, it's me and the dinghy, together again. With physical harm involved. Bad, crazy dinghy. I was paddling said air filled plastic boat outside the bouyed swimming area, because boating inside the swimming area for some reason was disallowed. Because people inside the swimming area were able to walk out a hundred feet into two foot water...i figured similar hospitable conditions existed beyond the bouys and floatropes. So, in my great wisdom, not being able to swim, and without a lifevest, i got out of the dinghy to enjoy what i thought would be about 4 feet of warm water and sandy lake bottom. Much to my surprise, it wasn't 4 feet...more like 7, and me, with an unnatural tendency to swallow water when my head goes underwater, start to panic, thrash, push myself further under, swallow water, trying to breathe.
Then, i see, as they say, my life flash before my eyes. It was really rather intricate a memory, a lot of details, very fast, but it was not a flash, seemed more like a lifetime.
I distinctly remember at that point the feeling of disappointment that my life had been so short, now that i was going to die. I was a bit pissed about the whole affair. But lungs full of water can be very distracting from such worrisome thoughts.

By the grace of random concern for others, there was an old man swimming about the outer swimming area, near the now empty dinghy, i would guess he saw me go under, and not come back up. He swam out to me, about 100 feet, scooped me up, just as my lights were fading, and swam me back to shore. The first, and hopefully the last, time someone LITERALLY saved my life, all by themselves. In a few minutes.
When he returned me to the beach, my sister and her boyfriend rushed to attend me, there could have been some pushing out of lungwater, i don't remember. After near death, everything else is a cakewalk.
And the old man disappeared as quickly as he appeared. No acclaim, no reward, just a special soul that saved my life.
I''m glad it worked out, if i had died there that day, there's no telling how this family might be different now. And i've learned not to rock the boat. Or, get out of the boat. But not how to swim.

Join me, in the dark side of the Farce, young blogwalker

Well hello there, hapless soul. Welcome to the club. (Of despair.)
This is my THIRD, yes, THIRD, attempt at blogging, and keeping a blog going. I was thinking of calling it, 'three strikes', but then what do i do when i delete this one in a moment of abject discouragement? Move on to 'four strikes'? That could get old fast.

Let me say a few things as to why i'm doing this again, the day AFTER i deleted my last blog, 'Burnt Cookies'. (Cute title eh....it had it's limits though). 'My Crazy Bad' really says much more about me, the bad, crazy authour. I'm very often quite crazy, to the point of paranoia and social reclusiveness, and i'm occasionally bad....in general, and sometimes when commenting on other blogs. Most specifically, I have made these odd, goofy, pushy, self-indulgent comments on a very fun and interesting blog, called 'ArchivesLives.com', authoured by My relative, Camille. I endorse it as good, clean, and NOT crazy, fun.

Oh, one thing, i just noticed, i went back to my usual style of pronouning, where i don't capitalize pronouns unless they're at a sentence start, or i'm concentrating, which i don't really like to do...so let's stick with this style. I've never been much of stickler for all them rules of writing..i'm far too crazzy for that.

I thought in this first post i would say a little about why i deleted 'burnt cookies'....and then started 'my crazy bad' a day later.

So, here's something about me, i can get quite depressed, and/or anxious sometimes, for which i've been taking "meds" for about 10 years. Often in the 'flareup' period of my chronicity, i get paranoid, angry at myself for being a loser, think the world is out to get me, and that nobody likes me, or wants to hear from me. (For a musical demonstration, listen to Supertramp's 'Hide in your shell', my favourite of their songs, an all round top10 fave, and rather definitive of my dark side).What happened with my 'burnt cookies' is, in this paranoid, call it even delusional, moment, i came to believe i had insulted some family members with a few of the family stories i had posted. So what does a crazy guy do then? DELETE THE WHOLE DAMN THING. And that's what i did. My crazy bad.

THEN, a certain sister, and a certain other relative, expressed to me their dismay at having lost the now extinct 'burnt cookies'. For which i guilt myself out over. And it was the same relative, who after hearing of her concern for my feelings, when she's never even met me, and after saying a bit about my bad crazy in an email to her, i started to reconsider. I tried 'my crazy' first, it was taken, but 'mycrazybad' was free, so i took it, damnit!
And i think this is a better stance to take, with full transparency of my craziness....so if i piss anyone off, i can just refer them to this here original disclaimer. NOT GUILTY BY REASON OF CRAZY. If this whole drama sounds silly and childish to you, that's because it is, blanche. If you suspect it slightly manipulative, you're probably right. That's what we may or may not do here at My Crazy Bad, nee, burnt-cookies.

And please, if you're insane or bored enough to read this crap, keep in mind, i could be talking about you! But i only use real names when it's a nice story. However, as you can see, sometimes it's hard for me to tell the difference. If you do have a beef about something i say, you know who to talk to, ME!! And, if you are reading a post or two here at My Crazy Bad, PULLLEASE, leave a comment once in awhile, even if it's mean and nasty. At least i'll know you're out there. It got a little discouraging at 'burnt cookies' to only have two regular commenters, my Mom, and Camille.

And as a short reintroduction to the family storytime, i have this; In my previous career as an Occupational Therapist, my first, and last job was in Psychiatry, at the Misericordia hospital, in Edmonton, my home town, where i still live, and when i was first hired for that job and told my parents such, my Dad, bless his crazy heart, said "why would you want to work in a looney bin"?....my response, "cause it reminds me of home". Nuff said?