Innocent bystander…
Going to an aquatic centre is a perfect opportunity for anthropological research…
People show up in this environment about as stripped down as you can get without going to Wreck Beach…
Wreck Beach triggers my Victorian sensibilities,
and apparently it isn’t about being nude anymore,
it is about watching nudity…
My neighbours,
who have been regulars at that scene for decades,
because that is where they found their people,
say that the creep factor is rising…
Pure nudists now cordon themselves off with rope and placards saying,
NO clothes past this point…
Running wild... looking pretty...
I witnessed some creep factor at the West Van pool last night…
Buzzards perving on twelve year old girls standing under the shower,
in their string bikinis…
And Mr. Speedo hiking up way too much information,
on his way up to the water slide…
I almost asked the lifeguard if he could blow his whistle three times,
and get a pair of surf shorts STAT on the pool deck…
But I decided to stay in my own department and just stick with my one request,
to change the music to something I could sing along with,
as the techno was making me nauseous…
I told him I’m too old for that level of bass…
Little Gem asked me,
as I was in hysterics over in the deep end,
Mama, what’s so funny???
When I explained the laughing matter,
which was really about me watching a woman watching Mr. Speedo,
in stitches,
just like You’re on Candid Camera,
She said,
He’s weird.
Starshine asked me,
What is that man doing prancing around like that???
I said,
I think he may be trying to meet someone…
She raised an eyebrow,
I don’t think that’s going to happen with what he’s wearing…
A few moments later he paired up over by the hot tub…
But I kept that to myself..
Some games are better left without a debrief…
In the sauna I was minding my own business,
and reviewing how,
due to personal growth and self-contained energy management,
I can now enjoy such intensity of both dry and steamy heat…
Sometimes I think I’m way out in left field…
Just me and my thoughts…
But then confirmation hits the ground,
or cedar planks,
in this case…
There was a striking young woman volleying herself in between the sauna,
the steam room,
and the edge of the shallow end…
It may have only been my perception but it appeared that she may have had some exterior work done on herself…
As she got up to leave and walked out,
one fellow remarked,
She is SO thin,
like she just got out of a P.O.W. camp…
All the cabin mates looked at me,
like I might be able to sew things up for them…
All I could stitch was my truth,
I feel sad…
I wondered what level of reflection would follow up over the hot rocks…
Hugh Hefner and his bunnies came up,
with some responsibility for opening up the sexual repression of the 50’s on the one hand,
and creating body stereotypes that continue morphing toward alien,
on the other…
I suggested that hopefully we’re swinging towards some balance,
and a wider spread of accepting differentiation…
Bringing more meaning to the words Fit for Life…
I mentioned something about Twiggy,
someone else mentioned Farrah…
The lad who made the initial comment said,
with eyes wide open,
Those are the It-girls of my parents’ generation,
you can’t be that old…
I said,
I’m old enough to have been under the influence of that kind of pressure,
and now that I’m in my forties I’m consciously dissolving it…
I have two girls now and I’m fierce about who and what they are exposed to…
I’m making sure that I unpack and investigate all of my baggage,
in the name of love for people I haven’t met yet…
When you’re working on a PhD.,
you are required to get an ethics review if and when your research involves human subjects…
Reviewing whether your methods may impact,
for better or for worse,
those who you seek to study…
I wonder how a committee might assess and evaluate the ethical effect of just sitting still…
And research which finds you,
rather than the other way around…
What kind of love is this???
Mother on the edge…
Some people go to yoga class… some people have children… some people do both…
Conscious parenting is a 24/7 yoga retreat…
and I’ll only admit to being awake for some of it…
There is nothing more rattling than a child screaming over nothing…
or whining about things not being fair…
or leaving clothes inside out all over the house even after they’ve been asked nicely not to…
101 times…
Or a child dropping greasy food on the brand new hoodie you just brought home from Costco to replace the last one which your older daughter tried to stain remove using pure bleach because she thought you’d be mad if you saw the spaghetti sauce she drizzled down her front when you asked her not to lean into her food for the thousandth time…
Or your younger daughter, saying to you right now, when an idea has come to you after you thought you were all out of ideas, because you’re a mother on the edge, in her cheeky little monkey who thinks she’s sixteen voice,
I thought you said no more going on the computer
while she’s shorting her system on a steady diet of candy…
Parenting is yoga…
parenting is yoga…
Breathe, just breathe…
This is the easy part…
they’re sleeping through the night…
Put down your middle finger…
it isn’t appropriate to swear at children…
even if they are your own…
Dear God…
please deliver me from evil…
right now…
please…
Yesterday, Starshine (10) said, after 20 minutes of putting laundry away and washing our five by seven feet bathroom…
I can see why you’re always so tired and have to go back to bed until lunch every day…
House cleaning is exhausting…
my back is killing me…
I actually enjoy house cleaning…
I have a Protestant work ethic and doing something is pure meditation for me…
Sitting still is torture…
unless I’m knitting…
I almost finished a swing cardigan for Little Gem yesterday, while the three of us sat on the couch all day…
The girls watched Night at the Museum…
and Little House on the Prairie…
for hours…
I watched my irritation…
grief…
and inner peace…
come and go…
like waves crashing on Sombrio…
At Christmas dinner, Prudence showed me a lovely collection of gifts…
My favourite thing was Piper’s new boardbook… by Jeremy Tankard…
Grumpy Bird…
When Bird woke up he was grumpy.
He was too grumpy to eat.
He was too grumpy to play.
In fact, he was too grumpy to fly.
“Looks like I’m walking today,” said Bird.
Bird walked past Beaver.
“Hello, Bird,” said Beaver, “What are you doing?”
“Let me give you a hint,” said Bird, “You do it by placing one foot in front of the other.”
“Walking?” guessed Beaver, “I love walking!”
When the moon is in the Seventh House...
Mary’s arms…
In the Hebrew Talmud,
the book where all sayings of rabbis are conserved over time,
it says:
Be very careful if you make a woman cry,
because God counts her tears.
The woman came out of a man’s rib,
not from his feet to be walked on,
not from his head to be superior,
but from his side to be equal,
under the arm to be protected,
and next to the heart to be loved…
When Little Gem was four,
and we were in the tub one night,
she told me straight out,
Mama, there are two ways to make a baby…
One where the sperm meets the egg,
and then there’s the other way…
The way in which it just happens…
Four years ago I worked with a student whose father is the captain of a freighter…
He is always away at sea,
for a year at a time…
I could see that this was very hard for his little girl,
and so we brought him into our life at school…
We charted his route on a large wall map,
wrote letters,
followed the ship’s coordinates,
and learned about the countries and continents he traveled to…
We even made WANTED posters offering a reward for the return of the Captain…
He sent back letters,
postcards,
and a DVD showing a tour of the ship and his professional,
and after hour activities…
The whole crew is fine with me here in spite of a very long journey…
We played games on the weekend like basketball, table tennis, Bingo, and watching movies…
Every Saturday we have a grill party…
This has become a ritual, not before but only during my command…
I like my crew to be well balanced in their morale, personality and health…
It only makes sense to keep them better because of the nature of our job…
Away from home one needs strong camaraderie…
He even wrote of the threat of pirates,
and how he has to sleep with a pistol under his pillow,
in case of attack through the Strait of Malacca…
That Christmas I volunteered for an organization,
which provides services,
for the men who live,
and work,
on the ships anchored in Burrard Inlet and English Bay…
Services like knitted socks, internet, table tennis, care kits and a hot turkey dinner…
My older daughter Starshine once said to me,
Mama, you might be sad that you don’t get to be with us all of the time,
but think about this,
some people never see their children…
I do think about this…
I also think about families that are separated,
for better and for worse…
Forced separation,
for all kind of reason,
that happens all over this world…
Yesterday afternoon,
as the sun was setting in my upper floor,
I read a story about the internment of Japanese-Canadians,
written by Thomas King,
in Our Story: Aboriginal Voices On Canada’s Past…
This part broke my heart,
So Coyote gets all the Women Enemy Aliens and the Children Enemy Aliens out of that Livestock Building smells like horses and cows and sheep,
and that one gets those Men Enemy Aliens with those targets painted on their backs from that other place,
and that Coyote puts all the Enemy Aliens into the back of his pretty truck says,
“Okada General Store” on the door…
“Okay,” says that Coyote, “Let’s start dispersing…”
So that Coyote drives that truck into that valley,
and then that one drives that truck into those mountains,
and then that one drives that truck onto those prairies…
What about those Enemy Aliens with the targets painted on their backs,
who look pretty angry?
“Oh”, says Coyote, “Those are the dangerous Enemy Aliens. They’re going to Angler, Ontario.”
“Holy,” I says, “Those Enemy Aliens must be real dangerous have to go to Ontario. Have any of the Enemy Aliens caused any troubles???”
“Not yet,” says Coyote, “But you can’t be too careful…”
In his contributor’s note King writes:
I’m not suggesting that Native people have suffered the way the Japanese have suffered or that the Japanese have suffered the way Native people have…
I’m simply suggesting that hatred and greed produce much the same sort of results,
no matter who we practice on…
So never ask a writer why he wrote something…
This is the first Christmas that I have ever spent with my children,
completely free of family obligation…
I’ve been working up to it,
and this year I made it happen…
My mother,
from her own pain,
said a lot of things at Christmas,
including,
Smile at me the way you smile at your friends,
when she was taking Christmas pictures…
I looked long and hard through all of our family photo albums,
and I was the one who is always smiling,
and looking happy…
Sometimes people don’t see the sunshine that you fill up the house with,
until you aren’t there anymore…
Then they have to admit that the cloud they saw you through,
belonged to them,
and not you…
You have your own clouds,
but you know that your light is always there,
underneath it all,
and that clouds come and go with the changing weather…
My gift is my song, and this one's for you...
This morning,
after opening presents,
the three of us went back to bed,
to read together,
and Little Gem said to me,
I have a message for you…
You have to love yourself…
All the parts…
Even the parts you don’t like…
I asked her where she got that message from…
She said,
It was in my brain…
And my brain just told me,
to give the message to you…
All I want for Christmas...
Canuck'd 