by Heather Plett | Feb 12, 2007 | Seasons, where I live
Considering the weather around here has been hovering between -23 and -45 for the last three weeks (that’s Celsius – translated it means @#$#@!! cold!),
Marnie’s suggestion for Fun Monday feels like a bit of a stretch right now. “Tell me why you love where you live.” Hmmm… you MIGHT have asked me that on a day when I actually felt some affection for this “freeze that ridiculous grin off your face” place, Marnie! Sigh.
But, even on a day when the best I can do is sit in front of my big picture window and dream about the day when I actually feel like venturing outside again, I can still find reasons to love this place.
And the number one reason? Seasons. I realize that some of you are feeling mighty glad right now that you don’t have seasons that are quite as DISTINCT as ours are, but without winter, I can’t imagine enjoying spring as much as I do. Each season brings new surprises, a whole new wardrobe, and something interesting to bring delight to my imagination.
To show you a little of the variation, all of the following pictures were taken in front of my house. This is what I have to look forward to in the next twelve months.
WINTER
SPRING
SUMMER
FALL
And just in case you want to know more about where I live, here’s a little something I dug out of the ol’ Fumbling archives…
I live…in a simple bungalow with an attached garage full of bicycles and a red car in the driveway.
I live…with my husband and three daughters.
I live…just a block from the mighty Red River.
I live…within easy walking distance of a grocery store, a drugstore, a dollar store, a bank, two gas stations with convenience stores, a GREAT wine store, Licks ice cream, a poster store, and a few other stores I’ve never been in yet.
I live…in the shade of a giant maple tree.
I live…within easy biking distance of St. Vital Park.
I live…in a house with ugly multi-colour carpeting in the basement, and a kitchen that’s too small for a family of five.
I live…next door to a bunch of university football players who are polite and friendly and don’t party too much.
I live…within easy biking distance of Ten Thousand Villages, the best store on earth.
I live…across the street from a housing co-op and the daycare centre my kids don’t have to go to anymore.
I live…just a 5 minute drive from the edge of the city and open sky and prairie fields.
I live…in the province where I was born.
I live…in a country that is known for its politeness, its cold north, its peacekeeping, and its multiculturalism.
I live…about 10 blocks (which is much too close) away from a shopping mall.
I live…in a house with a rotting deck and a play structure that’s almost too small for my children.
I live…within biking distance of my church.
I live…in the house with the wooden deck chairs in the front yard instead of on our deck, because we like to sit and watch the world go by.
I live…close enough to my sister and brother-in-law and little niece that we get to see them every week.
I live…further away from my brothers and their families than I’d like.
I live…closer to my mom than I used to, but further than I’d like.
I live…far from where my mother is right now.
I live…close enough to Marcel’s family that we can see them nearly every week.
I live…in a bedroom that has one dark burgundy wall, and three white walls that I wish I’d painted burgundy too.
I live…just far enough from my office that I get a good workout biking there.
I live…across the river from the University I attended nearly twenty years ago.
I live…with contentment and enough of almost everything.
I live…in a country where my children can grow up without fear or discrimination or poverty.
I live…in a world that’s getting smaller, but that’s big enough to offer me lots of places and opportunities to explore.
I live…in a house that’s never quite as clean as I’d like it to be, but clean enough to be comfortable.
by Heather Plett | Feb 10, 2007 | cooking, what Marcel will rub in my face
When I ran frantically into the kitchen screaming “oh NO! I burnt the nachos!” Maddie marched into the living room, planted her hands firmly on her hips, and pronounced “Dad! Didn’t you know you shouldn’t let Mom cook that?”
Oh yeah, you can imagine how much he’s loving THAT. I suspect I’ll hear that phrase repeated over and over again every time I screw up in the kitchen from now to eternity.
Sigh. I concede the kitchen throne to my husband. It is rightfully his anyway. I’ll try not to care that my kids trust his cooking more than mine.
Come to think of it, I think I’ll use it to my advantage the next time he tries to convince me it’s my turn to cook.
by Heather Plett | Feb 10, 2007 | Uncategorized
This morning, in an email to my sister, I wrote the following sentence: “I haven’t talked to mom all week, so for all I know they’ve left the country again.”
Her response: “Yup, they’ve left the country again. Good guess.”
There is just something very weird about writing a sentence like that, primarily in jest, and finding out it’s true. And what’s even more weird is realizing that the response no longer surprises you.
To put it into context – for the first 37 years of my life, I KNEW where to find my mom. Her life was lived within a fairly predictable and dependable space. She was at home, on the farm. If she wasn’t there, then she could be found at the store she worked at for many years. If all else fails – check the neighbour’s house. Or the church. Once in awhile, she’d venture to the city, but then she was visiting either myself or my sister, so we knew where to find her. About once a year, she’d fly out to visit my brother, or spend a few days at my other brother’s house. That was about it. Not particularly exciting, but always dependable.
Then, for the next two and a half years, after dad died, she lived in the city, and though the walls of her life were a little less confined, she NEVER left town without telling me.
Now, suddenly, her life has been transformed and I no longer know where to find her. She’s home less than she’s away. She’s been married less than two years, and in that time, they’ve spent two months in Holland, travelled to Alberta more times than I can count, and hopped across the border into the U.S. probably more times than she’s done in her whole life before this.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m happy for her. She loves to travel and didn’t get nearly enough of it in her life before this. She’s got a new lease on life, and I certainly don’t begrudge her that. She has spent so many years being “dependable”, she has earned the right to be “footloose and fancy free.”
But – it can feel a little disconcerting to never know for sure where your mom is and when you can reach her. Moms are meant to be dependable. Reliable. Unchanging. Somehow, in a way I can hardly explain, it makes the roots of my tree feel a little shaky.
Besides that… does she have to make up for ALL that lost time in just a couple of YEARS? Sheesh.
by Heather Plett | Feb 8, 2007 | Uncategorized
(Well, almost wordless. I can’t resist SOME explanation)
In one of those golden moments in Ethiopia
I sat on the steps of the staff housing
at the base camp in Arb Gebya
watching Hawk in flight.
He’d smelled the remains of the goat
they’d slaughtered for our supper
and he hoped for a morsel.
Soundlessly, he landed
on a fence not far from me.
As I fixed my camera on him
he spread his mighty wings
and took flight.
Glorious Hawk,
I thank you
for the brief and beautiful visit.
