What an Honour!

I'm thrilled to be "Guest Blogger" on Mary DeMuth's blog today - one of my most favoritist authors!

Old Enough to Know Better

Okay, saying these words out loud sticks in my craw. Writing them makes my fingers tremble. But here goes.

     This week, I became the mother of a 30-year old.

     He's a little weirded out by it, but if he thinks turning 30 is freaky, just wait until his own kid turns 30. I'm thrilled that he and his beautiful bride of six years (who is possibly turning the same age in the same week, but a lady never tells) got to take a trip to celebrate this milestone. The two of them have managed to produce the two most adorable little boys on the planet, so they deserve a get-away. But it means I'm not around to remind them that Bill Gates had made $234 million by age 30 or that the average age of retirement for NFL players is, you guessed it, 30.

     Have you noticed it seems to take about ten years to get used to how old you are? I don't remember turning 30 myself, although I suppose I must have, since I recall turning 40 and 50. Mark Twain said "When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it had happened or not; but my faculties are decaying now and soon I shall be so I cannot remember any but the things that never happened. It is sad to go to pieces like this, but we all have to do it."

     Remembering things that never happened can be an enormous gift for an aspiring writer, so I look forward to this aspect of aging. Perhaps my writing career will take off, provided I can commit to software whatever comes to mind before they take away my laptop for good. Meanwhile, I want to gift my son with some favorite quotes to honour his big day.

     Leo Rosenberg said "First you forget names, then you forget faces, then you forget to pull your zipper up, then you forget to pull your zipper down." (Oh dear.)

     Erma Bombeck said, "As a graduate of the Zsa Zsa Gabor School of Creative mathematics, I honestly do not know how old I am." (I like that kind of creativity!)

     Bennett Cerf said "Middle age is when your classmates are so gray and wrinkled and bald they don't recognize you." (Poor things.)

     And finally, Kurt Vonnegut said "True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country." (It's true.)

     So to set an example for my senescent son, I refuse to let aging get me down. For one thing, it's too hard to get back up again. For another thing, in dog years, I'm already dead. So I'm actually doing quite well. It's all in your perspective. And I perceive that others have done this, therefore so can I! And so can my kids. I take comfort in knowing that as we age, the gap between my children and me gets smaller, relative to our life spans. See what you have to look forward to, guys?

     Happy Birthday!

That about sums it up...

I couldn't believe the little gift my boss presented me with this morning, a grin on his face reaching both ears. Sure was good for a laugh! He said he saw it and couldn't resist. Made my day! Too funny. And I do have a definite weakness for chocolate.

A 12-Step Program for Planning a Family Reunion

(Serves one14-Branch Family)

Step One. Two years prior, two branches of the 14-branch family agree to get together to share their "turn" at planning the biannual event, and then promptly forget about it for almost two years. Although there are ten siblings/cousins in this combined branch, it falls on five who live in the vicinity to make the arrangements. We'll call these five the Teacher, the Caterer, the Left-Handed One, the Writer, and the Beautiful One.

Step Two: The youngest of these five, the Beautiful One, initiates the first planning meeting at the insistence of the older generation who are beginning to panic. When the appointed day arrives, however, neither the weather nor the general health of the others cooperates and the meeting is postponed. Meanwhile, one entire branch goes off to Maui for a wonderful 9-day family reunion of its own. The Teacher goes to Guatemala on an English-teaching stint for a month. The remaining one, The Writer, stoically stays home to suffer the ravages of Manitoba in March. The Writer is not bitter.

Step Three: A new date is set for the planning meeting. The older generation is now in full-blown panic mode. So the five cousins/sisters converge on the home of the Beautiful One.

Step Four: The five cousins/sisters proceed to catch up with one another's lives. Photos from Maui are passed around, hilarious and heartwarming stories are shared involving lost teeth and long lost family members. Numbers and ages of grandchildren are exchanged. Clearly, the reunion planning meeting is a reunion in itself. The Left-Handed One takes charge and keeps drawing us back to our purpose.

Step Five: A sixth cousin/sister who has agreed to be available by telephone is called. She has not kept her word, however, so a smart-alecky message is left on her answering machine putting her in charge of pretty much everything. The laughter she hears in the background will put her at ease. We hope.

Step Six: Plans forge ahead. The Beautiful One calls the campground, digs through the box labeled "Family Reunion" and counts the money in the event kitty.

Step Seven: The Caterer volunteers to organize the wiener roast and bring a large canopy tent.

Step Eight: The Teacher agrees to make phone calls and get the word out; she will also organize a photo-print run on the day of the reunion.

Step Nine: The Writer offers to organize the silent auction, which provides funds for the next reunion.

Step Ten: The Left-Handed one has a great idea to release helium balloons in memory of those who have passed. She will organize this.

Step Eleven: A couple of phone calls are made to the older generation to set their minds at ease. The reunion will happen after all.

Step Twelve: The Writer takes it upon herself to blog about the planning meeting experience because you never know when it might be helpful for others.

And that, friends, is how it's done. Good luck with yours!

The Up Side of Writer's Block

When my husband comes home to this for lunch on a Thursday, he knows his wife has a serious case of writer's block.
     Oh, I know there's no such thing. There's laziness and procrastination and self-doubt and procrastination and distraction and lack of direction and procrastination, maybe. But it all boils down to the same thing, and the only cure is to park your butt in the chair and start putting words down, one after the other. So what if it's crap? Eventually some little jewel will surface that may turn out to be useful and if not, it's all about exercising your muscle. Use it or lose it and all that.
     Today, it's also about another thing. A growing, niggling sense that maybe it's time I started writing about something I don't feel ready to write about. Really, God? But what if this and what if that? What if I'm wrong? I need some guidance. And courage and wisdom and skills I really don't have.
     And while I wait...I think I'll go see what delights I can create for tonight's supper.

A Person Could Get Used to This...

Here's me - on the inside.

Ever have one of those days where everything goes right?
     Today when I came home at lunch, I found out I got an A in my Municipal Law course! Then I checked email and learned that I placed third in the "best columnist" category in the Manitoba Community Newspapers Association awards (don't ask me what this means...I didn't even know I was nominated, but doesn't it sound important?) And just in case all that's not enough, when I got home from work, there was a bag of clothes waiting for me from friend Julianne!!
     If I weren't sick and exhausted, I'd definitely celebrate...

A Tribute to Teachers

Well, it's official. I'm out of my mind. I know this because when asked to take on a speaking engagement the same day I was writing a three-hour exam, I said yes. But in my defense, you probably would have, too. Let me explain.

     The group to which I'd be speaking was made up of school teachers. "Let's make sure I have this straight," I said. "There will be 40 or 50 teachers, expected to sit down and be quiet and listen while I talk?"

     Well, who could resist?

     So talk I did. I told them of my almost 80-year old mother, who quit school after Grade 9, got married, had five children, then continued her education until she could teach school, eventually earned two degrees and became a high school principal.

     I told them how disillusioned and heartbroken I was when I learned my beloved first grade teacher, Mrs. Cooper, got paid to teach us and wasn't doing it just out of love.

     I told how my two older sisters became teachers as well, how one of them was my Grade 5 teacher and how it was assumed I'd become a teacher too.

     I told them of my pseudo-teaching opportunities that elevated teachers to my highest regard and convinced me I had NOT missed my calling.

     We talked about the pursuit of dreams and using the gifts your Creator gave you and jazz like that. There's so much more I could have said. So today, with six weeks or so left in the school year, I offer to all teachers everywhere what I hope will be a little shot in the arm to see you through until the end of June.

     I try to imagine where I would be today without you, Teacher. Reading and writing alone, these most precious of gifts, are more than enough to create a debt of gratitude. Through the written words of others I have seen parts of the world I'll never see with my eyes, been encouraged to pursue my dreams, and gained understanding for life and eternity. Through words I have written, others have found hope, laughter, encouragement, and sometimes a role on stage! None of this would be true without the miracle of education.

     Without what you taught me, how would I balance my bank statement or pay my bills? Obtain a driver's license, a mortgage, a job? How would I know where my daughter is when she flies off to Europe or appreciate the rich history of our planet when I see a movie like The King's Speech?

     More than all of that, though, I want to thank you for the tenacity and genuine care with which you serve your students. Tom Brokaw said, "It's easy to make a buck.  It's a lot tougher to make a difference."

     If you are a teacher who makes winners of ordinary people, who believes in your students and tugs or pushes in turn, I applaud you. Your influence goes farther than you know. Don't take it lightly.

     And hang in there. Summer's coming.