Leafs Lost

I remember the tradition of watching the Leafs with family and friends. There would be food, hockey chat, drinks and a whole lot of yelling. I imagine that as a kid a lot of stuff went over my head but what stuck with me is the fun of the get together. Lately we have been reviving the tradition both at home and at the group home. With the Leafs win/lose record we try to emphasize how well we cheer rather than the actual game. When I go back to work I can count on one of our guys saying "What happened to our Leafs?". That gets hard to hear after a while. One of the good things about watching the game is the comradery that happens whether we win or lose. A good tradition all in all.

I like all the talk that goes on during the game, jumping from one topic to the next, doesn't matter if it is hockey related or not. It is nice to have a flow of talk that has no external pressures on it. Sort off topic I finally got to see a real Hi Definition hockey game. What an amazing sight! We watched a stray nose hair of Darcy Tucker wave in and out and had marveled about that for quite a while. One day I will have that too!

TV Shows, Slippers and Hockey

To end out December I have several points before the end of the year.
First, slippers are meant to self-destruct before Christmas. That's why we need them as gifts. Feet cannot be that powerful that they can destroy a pair of well-made slippers but some how slippers come out on the losing end of the deal.
Second, even though I keep saying I am so over an incident that happened at work (it involves a betrayal). It is not totally resolved and I keep going over it. It is like a sore that you keep picking at, never letting it heal. I am ready to let it go but it makes such a good story. (which also makes for good gossip which is not soul enriching but does satisfy that wicked part of me)
Third, I am enjoying the writer's strike. I was starting to feel like a slave to my shows. With all the reruns I can listen to my Podcasts, read and relax. I have more time for other stuff.

Then there is the Toronto Maple Leafs. Our gang at the group home loves the family get togethers' to cheer on our team. Kind of hate the losses but the cheering is fun. We have a saying, it is not whether we win or lose but how well we cheer. While I have a few days off, it is nice to see the entire game and not have to work and see the game in spurts. It seemed that every time I left the room they scored. A superstitious mind would put a spin on it but since I am not like that I will enjoy watching the games in their entirety.

Lastly, I hope everything goes well for all for the end of this year and the year to come.

Our Christmas Party

Thank goodness that the snow didn't happened till after our party. I shoveled snow till my face felt like it was a cold rubbery mask. Then the plow came. Although I am thankful that the plow actually did our street, sometimes I feel it is a rare treat, it means I have to dig out a spot for the van to get out.
Back to the party.
Louise gave massive help with the setup and sandwiches. Everyone helped with the setup and afterwards the cleanup. The gang looked wonderful thanks to Natasha and Manny. We had food and treats for all. Ken helped himself to many a butter tart. I don't remember sitting down except once to have a bowl of bean salad. Nice and garlicy!. It was nice to chat with everyone, I just wish I had more time to do so. We had our fake fireplace going as well as the singing Santa. We also had the Leafs game on for the gang on the big TV in the livingroom. Something for everyone. An amazing night and thanks to all that made it possible.

Leafs Skate

We went to the Easter Seals Leafs Skate at the ACC on December 2nd. For us not skating it was $25.00 per person, which included lunch. Jen raised a respectable amount for the privilege of skating with the Leafs for the Easter Seals campaign. She's the one in the red vest near her favourite Leaf, Kyle Wellwood. He is definitely eye candy with that cute baby face and a group home favourite. The rest of us were behind the bench taking as many pictures as we could for each session. The Leafs signed autographs while on the ice and the skaters had their picture taken with each of the group of Leafs that were on the ice. What a nice Sunday.

I wish I was at the Cottage

It's when all the troubles appear that you want to retreat to a safe haven. All the death, untruths, ugliness and problems are like a snow drift slowly burying you in their cold grasp. To be at the cottage means leaving the worries at home for a couple of days. Enjoying the outdoors without having a to think about what to do next about what ever is the top worry at home. It is an escape. Sometimes the weekends are only a small respite from all the things that you have to deal with but still it tends to creep up on you. Such is life, must think of the rose and it's beauty and not the thorns on the stem that support it.

Halloween 2007

I had more time off to get ready for Halloween but still it was not enough. I need better planning skills and this time between my sister & myself we did a complete inventory of all the Halloween props. That should help with next years planning. This years theme was Alcatraz. Arlene had the prisoner numbers for our crew of Al Capone, the Birdman of Alcatraz - Robert Stroud, Machine gun Kelly to name a few. The wind was unnaturally fierce. It kept blowing the false house front over and various items would take a life of their own and would settle in new places. I kept stepping on my cape and giving myself whiplash. Quinton came over (with his parents of course) and announced that he was scared of some of the props. We made a game of it and after a while he was fine with most of the props. Quinton decided that he was in charge of the fog machine. He said he was "The Man for the job." and he needed to stay on the job. He would push the button to set off the fog when treaters would walk by. David & Quinton thought that the people in the house were not fully experiencing the fog machines magic. They started filling plastic bags with fog and poofing it out in the livingroom. Quinton gave out the treats and made sure that everyone was served. He even brought the treats to one little girl who was too scared to come up to the house. Bill gave a few treaters a scare by pretending to be a life sized prop that would come to life every so often. The night went real well despite the wind and it seemed to go by too fast.

The Ring and Mohawk Lodge

In an effort to find out more about the broken ring I started looking up what information we had on our cottage. I know that the people who owned it before us rented out the cabins for fishing and vacations. I am not sure when the business was started but it seems it was going quite well in the 40's and 50's. Odd thing is I "Googled" Mohawk Lodge, the name of our cottage and came up with another Mohawk Lodge in Ontario that started around 1940. Our family bought our Mohawk Lodge in the 60’s and has never rented it out. It consists of the main cottage and 5 small cabins. Back in the day when it was being rented out, the previous owners kept index cards on all their guests. I suspect that there are more records but we do not have them. Families, church groups, fisherman and couples came up for a weekend or a week. One group was named the Happy Hour Club. It was $25.00 per person per week and that included meals. Children under 12 were half price and under 5 were $5.00 per week. You could rent out the boat for a buck a day. Certain months had special rates, probably due to black flies and mosquitoes. What a bargain, an entire week and you didn’t even have to cook. They had named the cabins Algoma, Cherokee, Cayuga, Shawnee, The 4th cabin and Hiawatha. For some reason I remembered it as Cree, Blackfoot, Iroquois. Now the cabins are just called by a number and the Red Cabin (because it has red tar paper on the outside). Many a couple vacationed in the Algoma and maybe one of the young ladies lost a ring on a very memorable night.

Halloween Costume Tribute

Great video.

The Ring

A couple of weeks back while at the cottage we had to move this dresser in my cabin to complete some electrical wiring. Hard work to be sure but from underneath the dresser I found a broken ring. After everyone looked at it, speculated about where it came from I put it in my bag. At one point (before we owned it) the cottage was a fishing lodge, so I imagined that some couple rented out my cabin and the young lady broke her ring, it fell under the dresser only to be discovered by me over 44 years later. The ring definitely wasn't gold but the stones looked real enough. As a side note when I got back to Toronto the ring wasn't in my bag. I turned my bag inside out and it was gone. I did find it on the floor of the cabin the next time I went to the cottage. So now I'm thinking that maybe it didn't want to leave the cottage, that some sad story was attached to the ring. Maybe upon finding out that the ring wasn't made from gold the young lady broke it in half and tossed it. Or maybe when the ring broke the relationship went through turbulent times ending with a divorce. Whatever the story, we took it in to a jewelry store and they appraised it. The stones are glass. The ring is essentially worthless.

End of Summer?

At the Ex it felt like you were scooping and cramming the sights into your eyeballs and your brain was calculating every item and stacking them in different piles of what to do and physically maneuvering the stroller took another part of the brain and body working together. Somehow it worked, I think. Quinton won a large purple snake that he named Mr. Slithers. He went on 2 rides by himself and was full of pride from accomplishing that task as well as going on an exciting fast jeep ride and car cop ride with small hills. We all were amazed at the gigantic, humungously long corn dog. I can't believe how crowded the Ex was this year.
Now to the cottage. It seems each time I went to the cottage, it was cold and as we were leaving the weather got better. We fixed and patched the roofs and it was mouse nests removal time. Dad stepped in between the boat & the dock and got a soaker. Thank goodness the water level is down. I will always be amazed when I look out the window and see a lake. At home it is usually a pack of cars parked out in front of the house.

Remember Me

I remembered a ditty that a "resident" used to sing. He would sing it when he was angry or frustrated and would say at the end "He barked like the old dog". He would also just sing that same ditty and smile and say, "She loves him". I can still see his great big ol' grin and his happy eyes. This person has since passed away and I often wonder who remembers him. Sometimes, the staff are the last people to have meaningful contact with the people we work for at the group home. What is the quality of that contact, after all we are paid to take care of our gang and it doesn't mean that we have to care about them? How do we pass on the memories, is it our job to do so and even if we do what meaning does it have? I guess telling stories both good and bad serves as reminders of that individual and how they impacted our lives. Maybe if we made a big enough footprint on this earth people would look and remember.

Work creeps in at the Cottage

There I was, my feet firmly dipped into the water and the inner protests started. I don’t want to go back to work. The endless paperwork, the new label for our guys (they went from clients to tenants, to consumers (I am glad that consumers didn’t stick because it sounded as if they consumed everything in their path including our souls) and now they are customers), the new pod business model (we are all interchangeable parts), going from Residential Counsellor III to Service Worker III (only three groups SWI, SWII, SWIII – no identifying distinctions within the groups), another work funeral, end of the month stuff and somewhere buried in all the revolutionary new way of working is the main reason to go back to work – the gang. The water gently laps on to the shore and the birds are singing not at all concerned about the what to do about the new med administration sheets. As the weekend draws to a close work seems to intrude more harshly with each passing moment. I try desperately to keep that inner calm and peace that the cottage brings but there is packing to finish and the long trip back.

Being Sick at the Cottage

Quinton took his first ride, swim of the season. After walking back and forth at the water's edge Quinton was coaxed on to the board and soon learned to paddle around. He now likes to stay in the water until very pruney.

A new thrill added to dipping your feet into the lake. Splashing water around so that the dogs jump and snap at the flying water.

Lincoln enjoys biting the splashing water. Shelby started out biting the water then slowly went for the source of the splashing ... the feet. That game soon ended as she was circling like a shark for the opportunity to take somebody’s foot.

All this fun and activity, sunshine and water was going on and I was deathly ill. Well, I had a stomach ache but it was bad enough that I had to call in sick for two days. The group home gang was suffering from the stomach flu also so when I returned to work I was dealing with the very thing that laid me low. I think what was the most annoying is the long torturous walk to the outhouse. I feel the need to describe all the gurgles of my illness but I will decline at this time. I can't remember the last time I was sick while up north but I do not want to repeat it any time soon. I will be leaving ginger candies up there and a bottle of Pepto.

CSI Woodville & Opening the Cottage

At my brother's farm we went on a long walk to look at a deer carcass. A coyote had taken down the former deer earlier in the week and its remains were lying out in a far field. After walking through a rain sodden laneway and a couple of fields later we stumbled on a scapula - (shoulder blade) and a leg and hoof of the deer. There were piles of fur strewn in several places but no massive remains. Tucked under a bush lay the spine of the deer. We all stared at it amazed that it didn’t take long for the body to be reduced to a few bones. In the background Codie, my brother’s Border Collie was happily chewing on his own piece of deer bone left over from the coyotes’ feast.


Now on to the opening of the cottage.

On the drive up there was a magical moment when it hit me that yes; I was on my way to the cottage. I was flooded with joy and burst into smile as we passed the familiar landmarks. When we arrived there wasn’t any major catastrophes, no break- ins, no trees down and we still had the roof. What we did have was an army of mosquitoes. Bitey, whiney, in your face and buzzing in your ear mosquitoes. Everything had to be done with speed and precision and very economical moves so to lessen our exposure to the blood-sucking vampires of the north. First thing I had to do was to visit the outhouse, long ride and plenty of ice tea. I ran as fast as I could, trying to be thoughtful that if I hurried by the time my Dad made it up the path I would be done. Flinging open the door, dropping my drawers, flipping the lid up … what was supposed to be a very relieving moment turned into a scream fest. In the bucket of peat (used to quell the odors of the outhouse) there was a female Deermouse with little mousies hanging on her teats scurrying around the bucket, one little mouse then jumps out of the bucket flies by my feet and hides behind the toilet. Immediately I finish and run out and down the path.
Later that evening I again had another mouse encounter. Details omitted, suffice to say that I found the mouse behind the toilet again. After that I wandered down to the lake because I spotted something odd. I saw a really bright light in the sky that was brighter than any star I’ve ever seen. I called my Dad to show him and between the both of us we figured out that it was the star Arcturus, part of the constellation Bootes.
On Saturday it was sunny and warm, the sky was filled with Dragonflies and on Sunday it was filled with mosquitoes and rain.
There are many little stories, Lincoln warding off the bugs by sitting in the lake, cleaning frenzy, cool fireplace evenings, waking up in a fright thinking it was 11:30 a.m. when it was really 8:00 a.m., tying the boat down because of high waves, watching the first Humming bird and many more special moments.
What a wonderful start to the cottage season.

Quinton's Birthday

Happy 3rd Birthday Quinton
New pictures much later, so don't count the candles on that cake.

Screaming Neighbour

We have this neighbour who is not the most pleasant person, we nicknamed him Screaming G*. I do not have room for all the problems we have had with this person. After setting up the patio area in the backyard and sitting back to enjoy it, I heard Screaming G* step out on his deck with his friend. His voice is so loud that it feels like he is standing beside me with a megaphone. You can't help but be a part of his chatter. After listening to his conversation about drinking, who is drinking, people that he knew that were drunk and his friend adding his own stories about drinking I noticed something. He laughs a lot. More than normal. Practically after everything he says, he laughs. Not an engaging laugh but a hollow laugh. It is as if he wants to prove that he is human. The laughter is attached to his cruelty, his putdowns and to a false sense of comradely. His laugh holds no warmth, it is loud and abrasive and it tries to fool you. The more I listened to just his laugh the more I understood how disconnected it was to any true feelings. This is not to be mistaken for the social laughter that groups of people engage in. It was nothing like that. There was nothing funny or happy in the conversation so you would expect that the laughter to be infused with a snarky, mean spirited tone. There was nothing nice about his laugh, yes it was cruel but that wasn’t what I noticed. It was in totality the lack of compassion, empathy. I had this feeling of alarm. This man is scary. There is a void in him, a darkness that emanates from his very being. I do not look forward to the summer.

Leaf Fans

A sad ending to our season but it was definitely enjoyed by all of our gang. We yelled, cheered, laughed and even shed a tear or two but for our group it was a time to bond over Toronto's favourite team. (Sorry to other teams but for us it's the Leafs). We even got to see a Marlies game this year which was such an amazing time. Try not to notice John Ferguson in the background with his sad, we'll do better next year face. For us it was the excitement of the game, the big personalities, chanting "Go Leafs Go and "Squish him", the mad monkey screams for the close calls and goals against and the camaraderie of the game. Our guys would talk about the game the next day and chat about the future games. We will watch the Stanley Cup games but without the Leafs it won't be the same.

The Audit = Eye Baggage

Our group home just finished the dreaded audit. The prep for this ordeal is intense and labour intensive. I had heard rumours of how others had faired and I knew ours wouldn't be too scathing but you never know how things will shake out in the end. The auditor was pleasant and very detailed orientated. He had good suggestions but at the time all I was thinking is let this end. All the odd things that happened that day (getting up at 4:42 in the morning – definitely not me, then deciding to go to work extra early, finding my resident in a predicament before quickly fixing it and sending her off to work, having the toilet plugged up with unmentionable stuff and the auditor coming in an hour early) and I had lost my voice the day before made it a stressful time. I had taken cold medication - non-drowsy, lots of tea and Halls cough candies a combination that would ensure my heart was in overdrive and my nose was drip free and I wouldn't cough uncontrollably. By the end of the audit I was starting to get real tired. You know that fuzzy warm feeling where real thoughts are hard to come by. The auditor apparently liked our group home and now we are just waiting for the report. The evil eye baggage is a result of all the work that went into the audit. It wasn’t just me though, although I was rewarded with bags and eye puffiness, that made the audit successful, it was a real team effort. Everyone made sure that the place would pass. I want to thank Manny, Natasha, Brennus, Alyma, Dianne, Aster and Sunday for supporting me and for supporting our group home. Now if only they would pay for my brow lift and baggage removal.

Hurray

Quinton received a Radio Flyer push car for Christmas. He has been firmly planted on it ever since. After his dad, David put it together Quinton got on it and started driving around the house. He would get off it to put in gas, check the oil and fix the tires then drive to his next destination. Quinton did enjoy crashing into my ankles something I won't have to worry about since the Rider went to the farm. He had to have his Rider beside him in the car on the way back to the farm. Quinton now rides from room to room getting off to attend to toddler business.