A Challenge: Reveal The Person Behind Your Blog

Last year, someone on Blogher suggested that writers should enlighten their readers by revealing odd facts about themselves. A challenge went out and at least ten writers  posted their lists on Blogher. Well, to end the year on a reflective note, here is my list of humourous, and/or thoughtful insights about the person behind my blog- me

1. I HATE scary movies. As soon as the music rises ominously, I start pacing. Once in a movie theatre, at The Lord of the Rings, I jumped and managed to throw quarts of popcorn in a 4′ radius all around us. It landed in people’s hair, on their coats… everywhere. My husband has never let me hold the popcorn again.

2. I am the definitive bookworm. I read at least 5 books a week till I was 15, stopping only if I had too much homework to keep it up. My mother used to beg me on nice summer days to , “At least read outside!” Sometimes, to limit my late night reading, I have read perched on the edge of a cold tub, only to realize 2 hours later that I am frozen and can hardly walk.

3. I love STRONG tea, butter tarts, red wine and cilantro. I love old houses and restoring their beauty, gardening, big windows and old pine floors.

4. Someone told my mother that I was cute but my sister would be beautiful! I am short, 5′ 1″ and 104 lb. I was a cute little kid (the grade six girls wanted to cart me around like a doll ),  a cute new mother,  my kids’ friends think I am cute and I will be a cute, little old lady. Doomed to be forever cute.

5. I have a sadistic streak. The times I have laughed the hardest concern my husband and bathtubs. Once Michael was stuck in a too small bathtub, trying to rinse his hair with a princess shower head without getting any water on the floor. The second hilarious incident was when he was stuck in a cold bath, with his leg sticking straight out in a cast, while I attempted to haul him up! Both times I laughed so hard that I ended up on the floor. My husband did not even smile.

6. My athletic skills are dismal. Michael, my athletic husband finally gave up on trying to find a sport to suit me when he realized that the only possible choices were a very gentle game of badminton or croquet but even that was a stretch.

7. At 13, I played Becky Thatcher in a Tom Sawyer musical even though I really can’t sing. I also I had to kiss him in front of the school, then night performances, a televised production and sing on a record. I STILL cringe at the memory.

8. I can’t spell, type, and I am basically just entering the 21st century’s computer world. So what would be the most difficult dream be to fulfill? Why, become a writer and of course this is the path I find myself on.

9. I love my husband and my kids. I love play dough, looking for bugs, colouring, reading kids books and making doll houses. I really need lots of grandkids.

10. I am eccentric, living on the margins of society and I love quirky, intellectual nerds with a sense of humour. I often laugh in the face of tragedy. It works for me.Only my parents really get my humour.

11. God has managed to heal and love me in spite of myself and I could weep in gratitude for His patient mercy.

12. If it was not for my daughters buying me clothes, cutting and dying my hair and teaching me about make-up, I would look very frumpy.

13. I was pregnant and nursing, often both, for 18 years without a break. My husband says he saved me from becoming a nun librarian.

14. I am an inefficient square, trying to force myself to roll through chores like a circle. I just recently have begun to take delight in my inefficiency.

15. I need to start drawing and painting again.

16 My favorite books are The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis and the Bible.

Our Quirky House

Welcome to our house. We love kids, animals and plants but watch out! Don't trip over the dog laying in the hallway.

The kindest description for the house where we raised our nine children, would be quaint. Picture a sprawling, two-storey house built in 1886, with all sorts of quirks. Three sets of steps converge on the upstairs landing as the result of creative home renovations. A window became a doorway to a hundred-year old addition which then needed its own set of three steps before anyone could get through this new doorway. Someone with an odd sense of humour cut a 4 ft 10 inch high doorway to the babyroom, squeezing it under the slanted roof. (When I walked into this room in the pitch dark, I banged my forehead against that door frame every night for the first month after we moved in). That doorway needs another set of three steps off the landing to reach the threshold of the bedroom. Logically, the two shortest people in the family shared this bedroom.The most absurd design feature, though, is the fact that there are six doorways leading out of the formal dining room and another six to the outdoors.

The bathroom, added in 1949 when a local farmer installed electricity, is so tiny that the tub is not even 4 ft. long. I must have a sadistic streak because the times I have laughed the hardest concern my husband and this bathtub. Once I stumbled upon him wedged in the tub with his knees drawn up, trying to keep water off the floor as he rinsed his hair with a princess shower head. I laughed so hard that I ended up on the floor. My husband did not even smile.

Laughter is usually my weapon of choice against the irritations life throws at me but is difficult to laugh at our shallow well which dries up continuously, forcing us to get a truck load of water from the neighbouring farmer. The toilet water pump is in the barn, surrounded by hay bales but still manages to freeze in the winter. We employ ingenious methods to thaw that pump but when it doesn't work we pail in water from an old fashioned pump ourside.

I simply must whine about one more irritation. If you plug two appliances in at the same time in the kitchen, the power shuts off and I resort to sending a kid running down to the cellar to turn the power back on. (I do mean a cellar, with huge oak beams and 2 ft, thick stone walls). That cellar is home to three freezers stocked with our home raised meat and vegetables are kept in the cold storage room. The kitchen pantry is tucked in under the stairs with shelves and old-fashioned hooks to hang aprons and cloth bags of flour, rice and sugar.         

The decorating theme of this unusual house is Early Childhood Art and it is everywhere, on the fridge, on cupboards and walls. Too many plants add to the sense of colour the eclectic combination of furniture is at least comfortable. Generations of former owner, who were all full-time farmers, believed in 4 inch spikes for building barns as well as hanging pictures, So those 4 inch spikes dictate where mirrors and pictures hang because they refused to come out of the old plaster.

The list of quirks is even longer long but it all adds up either to frustration or comedy and we choose to laugh. Yet we also love this quirky house with its thick, pine plank floors, wide wood wainscotting, original door knobs and engraved hinges and stained-glass window.

Now into this absurd house, picture eleven people living in five bedrooms with bunk beds, 13 dressers and huge trunks because half the bedrooms have old-fashioned hooks on the wall but no closets and there is no linen closet. Organizing the clothes and belongings of eleven people is not an easy task without proper storage. I should not have to explain further except to remark that I once lost a grade one reading book for three months in a dress-up bin. You can surely picture the chaos as I madly flung socks about in a 3 foot high wicker basket full of unpaired socks, trying to find a pair or two to throw over the banister to a child rushing to pull a coat and backpack on before running down our long lane to catch the schoolbus.

This is the scene for all sorts of mix-ups, and mayhem, many of them cause by the house itself. I reacted the only way possible,I laughed. Our laughing transformed that house into a very, very fine house with two cats in the most comfortable chair, a dog that tripped visitors by the door, goldfish on the counter and a guinea pig that squeaked for food every time the fridge opened.

                                                                                

This is the background to all sorts of mix-ups, and mayhem. I reacted the only way possible.. .I laughed. By laughing, that house became a very, very fine house with two cats in the most comfortable chair, a dog that tripped visitors by the door, goldfish on the counter and a guinea pig that squeaked for food every time the fridge opened.

Defying Reality

Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, 

not just ripping the tags off your pillows). 

Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?

 I did not simply break a rule here and there;  no, like every other human being, I continually break the most fundamental law of the universe without any conscious effort by refusing to accept reality. Instead of realizing my place in the universe, as one of God's creations, I put on masks and false personalities in a vain attempt to deny my very nature. In pride, I acted like a queen at the centre my own little world.

According to Thomas Merton (Seeds of Contemplation), a frog or tree are holy simply because they are who they were created to be. On the other hand, I broke all laws of nature out of pride. Steeped in delusion, I clung to a false persona and refused to relax and accept the reality that I am not the centre of the universe.
The result? I was not simply burned. Oh no, I created an utterly miserable, guilt filled prison sentence spent suffering like a pitiful victim. Yep living like the world revolved around me was not fun and carrying the burdens of the world on my emotional shoulders.
This illegal activity is best illustrated by watching toddlers, those young tyrants of every family. There are countless examples of a two-year old, refusing any help, only to get into all sorts of trouble. I can laugh indulgently at my kids amusing escapades but guess what? God also laughs lovingly at me, waiting for me to exhaust my arrogance and embrace reality.

I am part of the Community of Saints, surrounding God who is at the centre of the universe. Everything does not depend on me when I let go of arrogance and give God His job back.

Exploding Cow Pies

We expect playful pranks from boys in their early teens because they delight in stretching the boundaries. Firecrackers offer many exciting possibilities to a creative thirteen year old.

My son, Joseph, along with a neighbour wondered what would happen if they lit a couple of fire crackers and threw them into the family’s country-style mailbox. The result was even funnier than they imagined as the metal door flew up and slammed shut again with a loud clang. Joseph and Riley doubled over with hoots of laughter.

Unfortunately for the boys, who should drive by at that exact moment?

The principal from the local public high school.

The boys noticed a car had stopped. They hopped on their bikes in a frenzy, rode down the long, curved, lane way to Riley’s house and lunged through the front door. However, that did not curtail this conscientious educator; he backed up his station waggon, followed the boys up to the house and rang the door bell. The principle’s stern lecture mortified Riley’s mum and embarrassed the boys. Joseph sheepishly recounted his adventure at the dinner table that night and we just shook our heads.

That incident was never repeated but firecrackers in the hands of one father led to sheer mayhem at our house a few years later.

We were barbecuing with a few other families. In the late afternoon, when the kids were getting restless and hungry, Pierre gathered the kids together, like he often did but this time he led them into the barnyard.

What did this fun-loving father do to amuse the throng of children who surrounded him?

Why he lit firecrackers and placed them in the middle of manure plops! We all heard the squeals and roars of approval from the kids. Before we knew what was happening, Pierre was paying the kids who dared to stand the closest to the smelly, disgusting explosions.We all shook our heads this time but smiled in spite of ourselves, wondering who was more mischievous, Pierre or the kids?

That was before we saw the kids close up. They were splattered with manure. Actually the foul-smelling gunk that covered them wasn’t even manure yet, it was fresh. The other mother’s and I were desperate to bathe our kids before dinner but we simply rinsed out their hair, gave quick sponge baths and I scrambled to find clothes to fit everyone. Rhonda, Pierre’s wife, fumed the loudest about stained clothing and Pierre looking sheepish, helped clean up his four small children.

I must admit that no one has forgotten The Day Cow Pies Exploded. My grown children still laugh in remembrance. I suppose that day is another example of the freedom, joy and muck that a farm makes available to all playful kids, both short and very tall.

A Photo Post: Discovering Joy on a Farm with Nine Kids

Mother’s? Hilarious Opinions from Little people

A little taste of  eight-year old reasoning.  A reality check to balance all those manipulative commercials and sentimental Mother’s Day cards that are flooding the market place. Warning. The following true comments  are not politically correct. So simply laugh and enjoy, no need to flog me with feminist remarks.

Answers given by grade two school children to the following questions:

What kind of a little girl was your mum?

1. My mum has always been my mum and none of that other stuff.
2. I don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

If you could change one thing about your mum, what would it be?

1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I’d get rid of that.
2. I’d make my mum smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it not me.
3. I would like for her to get rid of those invisible eyes on the back of her head.

What would it take to make your mum perfect?

1. On the inside she’s already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I’d diet, maybe blue. 

Why did God make mothers

1. She’s the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?

1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my mum just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

 What ingredients are mothers made of?

1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men’s bones. Then they mostly use string, I think

Why did God give you your mother and not some other mum?

1. We’re related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people’s mom like me.

 What did mum need to know about dad before she married him?

1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he get drunk on beer?
3. Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores?

 Why did your mum marry your dad?

1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that mom didn’t have her thinking cap on.

 Who’s the boss at your house?

1. Mum doesn’t want to be boss, but she has to because dad’s such a goof ball.
2. Mum. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess mum is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What’s the difference between mums and dads?

1. Mums work at work and work at home and dads just go to work at work.
2. Mums know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller and stronger, but Mums have all the real power cause that’s who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friends.
4. Mums have magic, they make you feel better without medicine.

What does your mum do in her spare time?

1. Mothers don’t do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

FELL FREE TO PASS THIS ALONG TO ANY MOTHER NEEDING A GOOD LAUGH from Bonnie

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about me

People look at me, their eyebrows shoot up, their mouths drop open and they sputter,
”YOU had 9 children??
This is because I am 5’ 1” and weigh 104 lbs. I was pregnant or nursing for 17 years without a break. I have been pregnant 10 times and I am healthy and happy and I have my BBB back. (That would be my Before Babies Body).

My husband and I raised 9 children on a hobby farm and discovered fulfilment and joy. When the words The Joy Of Mothering on a Hobby Farm popped into my head as a subtitle for my short stories it was like an epiphany for me because those few words verbalized my experience living with little people. The very existence of a joyful mother of nine children seems to confound people.

My writing is humourous and heart warming/ thoughtful and thought-provoking with a strong current of spirituality running through it.
Part of my call and my witness is to write the truth about children, family, marriage and the sacredness of life, especially a life lived in God
THE JOY MOTHERING
THIS IS YOUR CALL
THIS IS YOUR VOCATION
THIS IS YOUR WITNESS TO THE WORLD

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Coming Around Full Circle

When you were 16, what did you think your life would look like? Does it look like that? Is that a good thing?

Outwardly, my life is diametrically opposed  to anything I could have imagined as a teenager. Yet this strange life I find myself living has brought me more fulfilment and joy than I ever could have imagined.
At sixteen, I was still an avid reader, who loved school.   As  expected, I completed an Honours Degree in English Literature. By 23, my life was still on track. I considered continuing my studies as a graduate student because I still loved everything about academia.  The relaxed but challenging experience of reading Chaucer and Old English in the original vernacular with only one other student in a professor's office was invigorating. This teacher was delighted to find two students interested in his life's work

I loved my life and didn't for see any changes. I had grown up with one sister, ballet lessons and a library filled with great fiction. I enjoyed gardening, painting and drawing, eating a vegetarian diet, reading spiritual literature and growing in my faith ; I was content.
Suddenly, my life as I knew it, changed dramatically.
I met Michael, who was just passing through Regina, Saskatchewan from Ottawa, Ontario to Prince George, British Columbia and from that very first, it felt like the prairie wind had swooped down and scattered all my work and plans. Michael described our first meeting in much kinder terms;   he saw fireworks when he first laid eyes on me.
I was not ready for this dramatic change in my life but it was clear to me that this was my call. So I baffled my fellow students, profs, advisors, friends and family by saying yes to the unexpected. I did not know anything about my newly chosen lifestyle or even where we would live. I did realize that I was completely ignorant and lacked even the most basic skills required to survive.
I became pregnant before our first wedding anniversary. Instantly, I began to panic because I knew, that once again, I was utterly unprepared. I had never even held a newborn! So I prepared in the only way I knew how and I read every book I could find on pregnancy, birth and baby care.
However all this studying did little to equip me to mother a fragile, completely dependent newborn. For example, as I held my baby in a small bathtub for his first bath, I was very nervous. Guess what? I had a book propped open with one elbow awkwardly holding it open to the right page, while my baby was in the baby bathtub on the table. The book was my security blanket. In fact reading at any odd moment I could grab a few seconds , strong cups of tea plus the mercy of God  and a wicked sense of humour have been my strength.
In the ensuing years, 18 spent pregnant and/or nursing babies,  I discovered fulfilment. My call, vocation and witness became the joy of mothering children. Perhaps I could have started  writing seven years ago when everyone was in school full-time but realistically there was simply too much physical work involved in running a household for eleven people and helping with the farm animals and our large vegetable garden.
Now I  have come around full circle because I  have started writing again. Just as I imagined at 16.  It just took 40 years of living a strange life before this avid reader and crazy oral story-teller was ready to start writing.

 

 

 

I had to smile through the whole thing, Melanie. I believe that God had plans for you from even before you met the love of your life. Your story, how you became a wife and then a mother, is so beautiful. I don't think I could tire reading it. :)

Maybe that is the beauty and mystery of life...that we do have a destiny to fulfil and often are not aware of it till it happens...