Category Archives: Blessings

Trees, People, Cello

Or, What My Weekend Was Like, By Me.

Saturday we trekked out to the wilds of North Stormont/Maxville to help t! and Jan dig and plant their orchard. A dozen heritage apples and other fruit trees were planted, each assigned to a different pagan friend. Everyone was invited to bless the tree they planted in whatever way they felt drawn to do so. Some blessings were elaborate; some were quiet; all were blessed with sweat and laughter. Despite assurances otherwise (and here absolutely NO ONE looks at HRH, no) it, well, it poured rain. (Except when HRH planted his tree. Ahem.) I’m a fan of rain, and it wasn’t even cold, but having trekked around after a wiggly four year old for a couple of hours and trying to keep him focused during the cumulatively long first half of the orchard, eventually agreeing to hold him on my hip while he snuggled his very wet head into my neck, took its toll on me. My blessing ended up being rushed because the boy decided he needed to use the bathroom again and we got back right when it was my turn. In the end I did nothing like what I’d prepared and pretty much just shoved the tree in the ground and told those with spades to fill the hole in. I had prepared a charged pebble that I tossed into the hole, though, and I’d brought a bottle of water blended from some Chalice Well water a friend had brought back from Glastonbury for me and a small vial of water blessed and charged at the last BFC Clan Camping I’d attended in 2004, which I poured on the ground once it was planted.

The boy’s tree was next, and he tossed his pebble into the hole. We reminded him that there was something he wanted to sing, so he announced that he had a special song to sing for his tree. “It’s a song we sing at school, and it is my favourite, and it’s about something that is under the water, and yellow,” he informed those gathered. HRH and I tried hard not to laugh as people realized what he meant, and I reminded him that no, he hadn’t planned to sing ‘Yellow Submarine,’ there was another song he’d been singing at home. So we chanted “Up and down, and sky and ground” together while those with spades filled the hole and covered the roots. It was pretty special. Then he stood looking at the base of the tree for a while as everyone collected themselves to move on to the next hole. I’m not sure if he was a bit sad that he hadn’t been able to sing ‘Yellow Submarine’ to his tree, or if he was thinking about how he’d just planted a real tree. He didn’t seem upset, just thoughtful.

As Janice planted her rowan, the first in the orchard, she named the tree Rowan Tree Farm, which feels entirely appropriate.

That night, while the boy ate a late dinner of a grilled cheese sandwich, he said, “Mama, what was your favourite part of the day?” I thought about it and said, “After we had planted all the trees and went back inside, and we’d all changed into our dry clothes, and we all had drinks and pie, and looked around and enjoyed being with our dear friends after sharing something special.” He then asked his father the same question. When I asked him what his favourite part of the day was, he said thoughtfully, “I loved meeting the dog named Carter and petting him and not hurting his leg.” (Carter, the resident year-old collie/husky/shepherd mix, has had a bad run of luck with his right foreleg, and it is splinted.) Carter’s a big dog, loves people, and is currently sporting the latest in Elizabethan collars so he doesn’t gnaw at the leg, but none of this bothered Liam; he was completely in love with the dog and very careful not to knock the splint. As I was useless with the digging part of the day (thanks, fibro) I spent some time with Carter on a leash along the edge of the field so t! could get some work done, and the dog is definitely personable. I quite enjoyed his company.

Also at dinner, Liam said, “I like Amanda.” (Amanda, whom I have known since I was about eleven, had been a passenger in our car there and back.) And then, completely out of the blue, he said something I’d never heard him say before: “When I’m bigger, I’m going to marry her.” We suspect that her admiration of Blackie and her willingness to get down on the floor and play trucks with him led him to this momentous decision.

Sunday morning I was in a lot of pain, as I’d expected; one doesn’t walk around in an uneven field holding a drenched preschooler and expect to escape unscathed. By the time my in-laws arrived for the Mother’s Day brunch we hosted I was at least functional, though. Savoury quiche, waffles, sausages, piles of fruit, salad, and mimosas. Mmm. The boy began crashing just before noon, so both he and I had a lie-down. He slept for two and a half hours (not surprising given the expected lack of nap the day before) but a rude interruption by an arrogant Hydro rep at our door ruined my chance for rest. I then went off to our monthly group cello lesson after picking a dozen of the tulips from along the side of the house for my cello teacher. Great lesson prepping for the recital in two weeks, but alas, it seems as if we will be cutting my beloved “Ave Verum Corpus,” a hesitant announcement that made all three of us doing the top melody very sad. It’s being bumped to the Christmas recital, and I fully understand why; it needs more work so that all four voices move confidently at the same time, and as the lower voices don’t feel the melody the way we do they’re not as sure about where to move, or even how they’re supposed to sound like against the other parts. But I am sad indeed.

And then last night I finished reading Dan Simmons’ very excellent Drood.

That was my weekend. The end.

Win!

Hello, spring!

Good Things of the Day So Far:

1. The exchange rate. Hello, an extra twenty-three cents to every American dollar I just deposited into my bank account!

2. SUN! I had to take off my scarf and then my velvet jacket while running my errands. The sunroof was opened, the car window was rolled down. All the house windows are now open as well. I’m wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt for the first time in, oh, months. Also for the first time in months, I am not cold.

3. I have daffodils that I bought from the Cancer Society! So many that they all don’t fit in my little Caithness vase!

4. A stack of new library books. Om-nom-nom.

5. Not one but two pairs of leather shoes purchased at Winners: a pair of plain black Rockport Mary Jane flats, and a pair of taupe Clarks casual Mary Jane heels. (Curiously, the heels are more comfortable than the flats.) I paid less for the two together than I’d have paid for either of them separately. SCORE! (Of course, taupe isn’t my thing; I’m kind of, heh, neutral about it. I intend to have them dyed, I just can’t decide on black or brown. Because, well, CLARKS, and holy cats they’re comfy.)

And finally:

6. The anthology ms. has already been approved. The request for my delivery cheque was just put in. HOW COOL IS THAT?

Yeah. A good day so far.

More Joy!

The day just keeps getting better! I just had a call from Bodhifox, cheerily inviting me to go out for tea. Of course, he’s in Ohio and I’m in Montreal, but it was such a wonderful thing to ask. To unexpectedly touch base with someone I love like that was fantastic.

Fox says there’s one more good thing to come, as surprises come in threes.

I feel like spinning around in the sun for a while. I wish there were daffodils to pick. I’ll have to make do with looking at the sun and pretending it’s warm. Also, there are cupcakes to make.

2008 In Review

Things I Did In 2008 That I Have Never Done Before:

– finished, submitted, and handled the edits on my fifth book (there is only one fifth!)
– received only SIX edits/queries on that book
– took up cello lessons for the second time, after a ten-year hiatus (there is only one second time!)
– knitted not one but THREE complete objects
– wrote a synopsis and outline for a YA novel in one afternoon
– then pretty much finished writing that YA novel within six months once I started
– joined not one but two social networking/contact sites (Facebook and Ravelry, to add to last year’s Shelfari and Last.fm)
– started shopping for a new cello, something that is going to take me years to do before I find The One
– voluntarily left my former luthier and moved to a new one, with whose services I am very happy indeed
– headlined a Pagan festival as a special guest along with Serena Fox of Circle Sanctuary and presented a workshop on an intro to hearthcraft
– adopted a kitten from the Animal Rescue Network (that’s for the ARN thing, because I have certainly adopted kittens before)
– baked my own bread for an entire year (thirteen months if we count from when I started, which was November 2007)
– gave a guest lecture at the university level
– made a specific trip to meet someone I met via the Internet
– performed a handfasting for two of my dearest friends (yes, I’ve done a legal wedding, but this was a purely spiritual ceremony)
– performed a baby naming/blessing ceremony for another set of dearest friends, the subject of the ceremony being my second godsdaughter
– stopped using shampoo entirely (having a baby did wacky things to my body chemistry, and while some things were good, the uber-sensitivity my scalp developed to sodium laurel/laureth sulfate was the worst; I now use a silicone-free mild conditioner with the occasional baking soda/water mix instead, and my hair is happier, too)

Things I Did in 2008 That I Am Proud Of:

All of the above, plus:

– performing in my second “public” cello recital ever (“public” is in quotation marks because it was for a bunch of people I don’t know, but was in a private venue)
– cutting my hair to above-shoulder length after having it very long for years and years
– joining a new RPG for the first time in, um, a number of years that I do not remember
– teaching myself a new hobby/skill (knitting!)

Good Things About 2008:

– meeting Bodhifox in person at the Fearsranch and proving beyond any doubt that he is a kindred spirit
– the boy being accepted part-time into a wonderful preschool (and subsequently coming home counting in French, singing songs I have not taught him, and bearing lots of art not proposed or initiated by me!)
– discovering the novels of Barbara Cleverly
– joining the local library, thereby cutting down my book purchasing
– the loan of the Mystery Cello from my cousin, the turn of the century German cello that requires about 5K$ worth of repair before it is restored to a playable state
– meeting Brendan Myers and having dinner in Old Montreal with him and other like-minded souls
– meeting Serena Fox at the Hamilton PPD 2008
– a fabulous co-coven spiritual retreat at Samhain, so awesome that there are now three planned per year instead of one
– the resolution of the ongoing tension with the unbalanced downstairs neighbour: She voluntarily moved out! The entire building is much, much happier and more secure
– a lot of spending has been curtailed/refined/refocused: We make all our own bread and take-out has returned to a real once-in-a-while special treat
– a good crop of veggies harvested from the garden (not enough to last the winter — not even half a month, actually, but the thought is there)
– being diagnosed with fibromyalgia (you may think that would be a Bad Thing, but having that diagnosis was a very good thing because it clarified so much, gave me a plan for dealing with it, and allowed me to move forward)
– adopting Gryffindor and seeing him and the boy romp together
– two dear friends giving birth to lovely little girls!

Like last year I’m sure there’s more, of course; a lot of this year was good. But these are what stand out in my memory. Possibly more than anything else I am more thankful for my friends, appreciative of them and their strengths, proud of their accomplishments and successes, and love spending time with them. This is light-years beyond my enochlophobia and agoraphobia of previous years. I’ve become a lot more comfortable with myself, and trust myself more. I’ve also further refined my stop-spending-time-with-people-who-drain-me technique, with excellent benefits to my psyche and physical health.

Not-So-Good Things About 2008:

– my very dearest and oldest cat Maggie went to the Summerlands after seventeen years of love and companionship
– the pregnancy book was cut from the fall publishing lists and is on hold indefinitely
– losing Emru to leukaemia
– learning that the repairs of the Mystery Cello would require over 5K$, which shelved the project indefinitely
– ongoing financial balancing (the credit line is still looming over us, but everything else is okay)

How Did I Do With My 2008 Wishes?

– Rediscover my CD collection

Er, well. At least I didn’t bring a whole bunch of new ones into the house and ignore the old ones. This year everything kind of languished. I’d cull except every time I look at the CDs to sort through them I remember exactly what’s on each one and know that I might want to listen to it someday. Argh. My CD buying has really, really dropped off sharply in the past few years because I don’t hang out in music stores any more, nor do I go see movies and become enchanted by their scores.

– Make time for practising my spirituality in a more aware fashion

Not so much. It’s not that I’ve lost what I had, just that I did want to make a specific effort to do more things with awareness, and I didn’t get there.

– Make a stronger commitment to practising the cello

We have a winner! I mean really, how much more serious does it get? I’m taking lessons again after a ten-year hiatus, and still sitting second chair in orchestra. I am very, very proud of this particular resolution and how it has manifested.

– Let up on the second-guessing of the decisions I make, and the self-doubt I feel about my work

Still chipping away at this one, but it’s going to be an ongoing thing till the end of my life. I do feel a lot more confident about my ability in general, but I still have those slippery moments of Oh gods this sucks and why am I trying? I’m trying because it’s a first draft, and the subtlety can be woven in later.

– Remember frequently that I am a wonderful, kind, talented person

Not sure about this one. I got a lot better at saying If someone has a problem with this/that, then that’s their issue, which kind of connects to this wish because I don’t expend as much energy worried about what people think of me. I have definitely gotten better at telling myself that I or what I do is cool when it is. I still can’t accept a compliment gracefully, and I still dismiss too much of what people say about me when it’s nice things. I am getting better at being happy and/or satisfied with myself and I what I do, though.

– Focus my time so that I don’t waste as much of it

Lists have been my very best friend this year. Learning how to say no now that I understand how to manage my energy thanks to the fibro has helped immensely, too.

– Take up formal study of another spiritual path to complement the ones I already practise

Yes, but not in the way I’d expected/planned to go. This ended up being a focus on Germanic spirituality instead of Druidism. There’s time enough for it all in my life.

– Take care of my body so that the chronic pain thing doesn’t negatively impact my life, as it’s beginning to once again (I’m hoping it’s the damp and the cold that’s made it increasingly bad over the past month)

Another winner! Having a firm medical diagnosis of fibromyalgia went a long, long way to understanding how my body was working and how to deal with it.

Wishes for 2009:

– Further refine and develop my cello skills
– Finish and polish and start querying Orchestrated
– Keep on writing
– Start making all our own pasta
– Plant, harvest, and preserve more vegetables from the garden
– Save more money (I did end 2008 with a nice balance in the bank but it’s earmarked for cello stuff in the future, and while it sits there it collects interest, hurrah!)

========

If I had to assign a value to 2008, I’d say that again, it’s been an overall good year. Looking back at 2007 I see that I didn’t note much about how tense it was financially for us and how much of an effect that had on our day to day life and relationships within the family. That stress was much less present this year, and HRH and I have done a lot of repair on our own relationship. Things are certainly better than they were last year, for which I am very, very thankful. In 2007 my default mood was frustrated and tense; in 2008 I learned to let that go, both through the understanding that stressing just creates more stress, and as a result of things getting better job-wise for HRH and the general financial situation easing. Of course, with the market plunging as it is and the publishing industry closing doors and freaking out quietly behind them, I will likely not sell another book for a few years, but my freelance work keeps a steady trickle coming in.

May 2009 be even better for us all!

First Post Of 2009!

I spent last night in the company of a few good friends, eating excellent food, drinking very good wine, with cats about and a lovely fire in the fireplace, and it was Very Good Indeed. If one takes the first minute of the new calendar year as an augury of sorts for the coming year as a whole, then I will be laughing and comfortable and thankful for the good things in life in 2009. And that’s just fine with me.

In his wishes for the new year Neil Gaiman said something wonderful and beautiful and inspirational, and it is worth quoting here:

…I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you’ll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you’ll make something that didn’t exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.

A good rule of thumb for this and every year: Be wise. Be kind. Love. Make things. And always, always dream big.

The Comeback of the Annual Holiday Thing

While some fell to the weather (no pun intended) and others to illness and still others to not-napping children, just about half of the invitees made it out last night. Thank you to everyone who spent time with us, and to those who intended to come but were foiled by various instances. Glasses were raised to those in absentia. At the very end there were just four of us (and two cats) rambling from topic to topic ( “Do you realise that this entire thread started because we were talking about cane-fighting?”) and the whole evening exemplified what I love about my group of friends: Lego, books, cider, mulled cranberry juice, baked Brie, chocolate, empty appliance boxes, foccacia, playing with the kids, and just enjoying being in the same place with people you care about.

Thanks for helping us wrap up our year, gang. See you in 2009.

A Boxing Day Retrospective Upon Christmas Cheer

First of all, I am thankful for the many blessings we enjoy simply by virtue of living in one of the most affluent countries in the world. We’re not wanting for a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes on our backs, boots on our feet. (Well, actually, yes we are wanting those boots at the moment, because HRH’s pair wore through last winter and have not yet been replaced, and mine developed a hole that lets in all the cold icy slush two years ago and I discovered that the right heel on my backup older pair had crumbled away to absolutely nothing when I put them on in lieu of the holed ones, but I digress. We have money to buy new ones thanks to Christmas generosity.) We also live in a country where socialised medicine keeps us healthy, even if people grumble about waiting lists. We have our immediate family alive and well and able to be with us on a special day.

We are, I know, lucky in comparison to something like 97% of the world.

Also, I have a stand mixer. Which probably 99.8% of the world does not. So you see how I am extra-blessed.

I learned a valuable lesson this year. Just because Santa cuts down on the amount of presents under the tree (and he did, he really did, for which I am also thankful), that does not mean that the total amount of money invested in gifting others decreases proportionately. Because I have not even dared to total up the value of the gift cards that were hung on the tree or tucked in to the Santa sack that has replaced individual stockings. Let us just say that since I talked HRH down from a 42″ flat-screen TV to a much more practical 36″ screen, the gift cards from Best Buy that each set of parents gave to HRH pretty much covers the purchase price. (I think they didn’t want HRH to feel left out because I got a stand mixer. Did I mention that Santa gave me a KitchenAid stand mixer? In brushed chrome?)

New soft flannel jammies, a hat/scarf/gloves set, gift cards to HMV and Indigo and Tim Hortons, new sheets and tea towels and oven mitts… it was a lovely gifting all round. Curiously, we did not receive books or DVDs or CDs, but we did get the gift cards so we can make our own choices there. I don’t think there has ever been a Christmas when I did not receive a tangible, physical book as a gift. I am in an odd sort of withdrawal and rapidly granted the boy’s request to go to the bookstore on Boxing Day. (I’ve already finished the book Aurora gave me at Yule. I am twitchy, although my mother brought a handful of ones I haven’t read down for me to read and I read half of one last night.) I suspect the boy has more than a few of my book-obsession genes, because he asked me several times yesterday if the bookstore was open yet. Of course, in his part of the bookstore there are shelves of Thomas trains and accessories, and I suspect that his gift certificate will go towards expanding his collection. Still, there are books in the same place, and it’s nice that we share enthusiasm for a common destination. I have also noted that people seem to have Gotten Wise to the whole HRH-passes-his-chocolate-along-to-me thing because there is Less Chocolate this year. I will cope. Mostly because my Yule stocking was sponsored by Saxon Chocolates. Also, my mother brought down her almond bark and double chocolate cookies.

The boy had a wonderful day despite being ill. He had a quiet morning watching WALL*E until the grandparents came over, and then did a great job handing presents out although he was quiet and increasingly less enthusiastic in general. He drooped a bit more and more as time passed and started feeling warm to the touch, until he was curled up in HRH’s lap, murmuring to me, “May I open another one, please?” He remembered his pleases and thank-yous despite feeling awful, though, and once all his gifts were open he found my hand and drifted off to his bedroom to curl up under his comforter with BunBun. He slept for an hour while we finished opening our gifts and when he woke up he played with some of his new toys (Santa brought him Mavis and Emily, two engines for which he has pined for about six months — thank you, eBay) and ended up drifting back to his room to lie on his bed and listen to a storybook or work on a puzzle or curl up under the comforter again, shivering. His cheeks were a brilliant red, he was clingy (but only Mama or Dada would do) and when I eventually took his temperature it was hovering just under 101 F. We let him direct his activities and kept an eye on him. He (sensibly) refused all food except a raw carrot (inspired by me peeling them for dinner) and some juice, and stated repeatedly when anyone said the word “turkey” that he didn’t want any, despite assurances every time that he didn’t have to eat if he didn’t feel like it.

Dinner was fabulous, as usual (why pretend modesty here? although I cannot take all the credit because my mother in law made her most excellent mashed potato dish and this year made a mashed sweet potato side that was drowned in cherry brandy!). The only failure this year were the rolls made with the organic six-grain stone-milled flour rolls, which over-rose on their second rise and fell back in on themselves. I baked them anyway and we had sort of bread wedges with a heavy crumb, and they weren’t awful but they weren’t the lighter rolls I’d wanted. The perfect turkey and gravy more than made up for it, though. The boy watched me make gravy while HRH carved the turkey (white slices that dripped with juices! heaven!), and when flopped over HRH’s shoulder said that he didn’t want any turkey scraps from the carving board but his little mouth was opening every time he watched HRH nibble on one, so HRH just popped a piece into the boy’s mouth next time it happened. The boy’s eyes went round as he chewed and he decided that the turkey was pretty darn okay. He ate the equivalent of a whole slice while in HRH’s arms, had some bread and water when we all sat down to dinner, then asked to be excused to play while the adults ate their meal. He came back when we were done, his cheeks a much more normal colour, and asked for dessert. His fever had broken, and he only spilled a spoonful or two of chocolate ice cream on the older-than-me linen tablecloth. He also ate a home-made shortbread cookie, so was evidently feeling much, much better (he hadn’t asked for a single sweet all day, you see). Then he discovered the box that the stand mixer had come in and proceeded to shriek with glee as he was pushed or pulled around the house in it while others cleaned up, so the grandparents got to play with him in regular Liam mode for the final hour or so. And the clean up went quickly too, when I’d decided that I only use my Royal Doulton china and good silver one time per a year and putting them in a dishwasher once every 365 days wouldn’t ruin them, so there was just the pots and pans and serving dishes to wash. (We saved the god-gods-that-many sea of stemmed crystal glasses to wash by hand after everyone had gone.)

Even the turkey stock smelled fabulous. It was a really very excellent turkey year. (We scraped the last spoonfuls of the brandied sweet potatoes into the stock pot, too. Waste not, want not!)

I cried a bit when my parents left, like I do every Christmas. We see them so rarely, and my mum and I are so close, that brief visits like this, however lucky we are to have them, just aren’t enough.

When everyone had gone the boy found the guitar that we had given him as the last Christmas present that morning. At the time he had pushed it away and said he didn’t want it (this was just before he took my hand and went to curl up in bed of his own accord, so we knew he didn’t mean that he didn’t want it, really, he meant that he didn’t want to play with it right then), but now he was thrilled with it and dragged it into the living room to play it. He kept trying to rest it on his shoulder like a cello. So as a lovely end to the day HRH and I were treated to a Christmas concert. Next week we will have to make a trip to Jimi’s music store to get a new set of strings for the guitar, since they’re the original strings and I broke the high E when trying to tune it before wrapping it on Christmas Eve.

This morning the boy ate two bowls of cereal and had two glasses of milk at breakfast, so he seems to be back to normal. He has already reminded me that I promised to take him to the bookstore. It’s a lazy day; everyone’s still in pyjamas. I will now go through my book wish lists and note down the titles I really want to pick up today (Apart from All the Windwracked Stars and Red Seas Under Red Skies, that is!). And I won’t use the entire gift certificate; I’ll save some for a rainy day.

I hope you all had or are having as wonderful a celebration of whatever kind you hold with family and friends.