Tag Archives: hope

Making decisions, making a list

It is hard to know if a decision is the right one. Some are small such as:

‘Should I wear/buy this dress or that one?’

‘What do I want people in shiny big cities to send me for Christmakah?’

“Should I have really spent my  paltry end of year teaching bonus on a Mac or should I instead have invested it for my old age?’ ( I don’t give enough thought to the fact that one day I will be old and unemployable.)

Some are really big such as:

‘ Should we move to Uganda?’

‘Should we take our dog?’

‘Should we adopt Casanova?’

‘Should we buy the Beast?’

‘Should we open a business?’

I feel we have had a significant amount of big decisions to make recently. Far more than we would have if we had taken the other route and continued with our lives and status quo in Montreal, 3 years ago.

So how do we make a decision? Guts mainly? I think if you cannot decide something you need to lie very still and listen. Which voice is louder? The yes or the no side? It may take a long time to tune out the noise and really listen but I do believe this is the only way.

I am tired of the big ones, although they do keep the heart beating and ward off any comforting signs of boredom. It would be perfectly pleasant to chill out for a while. However, there are more coming; and they do not involve dresses or shoes, sadly.

On a happier note, I have a few small and fun little conundrums to solve. I am compiling my  Xmas list of what I want friendly and cheerful bestowers of goodie boxes to send. It is an interesting challenge. The items must weigh next to nothing and be small. They have to be quite inexpensive. ( Despite jewels fitting into category #1, they get swiped off the list with #2. ).

So:  small, light and cheap.

Thus far I have got as far as lip gloss and Yogi tea bags.

The mind hums.


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Filed under I have no idea where to put this, personal

More summer limes.

 

Sun desperately trying to get through these dark clouds. I haven’t been this cold in a long time. In London during the snow storm of the century I was cold, but then, it was snowing, it was to be expected. It has been forever proven that I am a warm weather girl. I get very sad when my bones ache with cold. At night I sleep clenched, trying to stay warm, longing for a hot water bottle. Last Saturday, at 4pm on July 4th as I sat huddled, practically in the fire place, I decided once and for all that I will never own a country house here in Quebec. That was quite the epiphany moment there. This is my home, the place I love and I have decided that I will never again own a home here. I simply hate to be cold.

Now please don’t imagine that I am complaining. Yes, I might grumble now and again as I borrow another sweater but I am still happy to be here.

 

And I do live in hope, I have a pretty Trini sundress hanging in the closet.

 

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Does anybody know a remedy for the problem of teens and their selective blindness? Pull out a pack of cigarettes to have a quiet and sneaky cig and they are as sharp as a hungry seagull. Walk into a room and see a pair of crotch in your face underwear left centre stage and they are as blind as a mole. I point them out. Even walk them through the room like a private visitor to an exclusive gallery, but even if they see it, the mess, the strewn clothes, it is with the blurry vision of the carefree teen. These things are just not important!

But I think they are, along with table manners, talking back and general politeness. I know a lot of parents, tired from the constant fighting, just give it up and sweep the discord under the proverbial rug. Then bitterness ensues, complacency and the eventual silence at the dinner table. Parents then become so surprised to learn that it was their child who gate crashed the party in a bikini.

So I might be the nag, the mom who forces then to pick up, the recipient of many a rolled eye ball, but I believe in the old fashioned fundamentals.

 

So bring on the dropped knickers and I’ll lead the gallery tour.

 

 


 

 

 

 

 

 




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Filed under Family Stuff, La belle ville, Teenagers