Have You Ever?

Hello friends, I hope this day finds you well. Today I’ve had another moment where I did something, tucked it away and then I see it produced by someone else.Someone else has made money off of the same thing that I did a year or more earlier.

If you didn’t know yet, I love to sing, not just while in the shower. Not just any singing either, I will belt it out like a blow horn if I am in the mood, and I am often in the mood.

My daughter hears a song on the radio and asks me “who is the original artist?” I tell her that the original artist is singing it right now. She will tell me it’s a female voice. I will sing a few lines and she just smiles and says, “oh, it’s you I was remembering”. heehee As I age I noticed I have developed a bit of stage freight, I did karaoke a bit ago and was nervous.

I also love to write, I like to create fun short stories and poems, I have even written a sermon just for the heck of it. I used to write down my musical creations and stopped because I thought I was being watched. Have you ever felt like you were being watched? Like things you did or said become a popular phrase, or a song comes out and you made it up a year before?

This happens to me, not just with music but also with poetry, stories, and a phrase I used. I started to think I was going crazy. I mean really, who the heck wants to follow me around? I’m nobody special so what the heck?

I have since decided to believe that creativity is like a whisper or image floating in the wind. I sometimes get a thought of a story, I’ll write it all out in my mind, but just as fast as it goes in my mind it’s gone. Poof! I don’t even remember what the heck it was about. I lose it before the pen and paper is found. So to me, a creative image that I could paint or a song to write, or a poem or whatever creativity that you do, if you don’t catch it and hold onto it then it moves onto another person. As in creativity waits for no man or woman, it has a desire to be told, sung, painted or expressed and it is not going to wait around for you to “get around to it”. Just as fast as it comes its off looking for someone else who is on able to grab it.

I am learning and trying to train myself to always have a pen and paper on me, and to hold that idea until I can write it down and share it. I think the “universe” has things to say and creative individuals are the way it speaks some times.

Or, I really am going a little bonkers.

Has this happened to you? Do you get the inspiration but it’s gone before you can get the pen and paper to write it down, or draw it?




A bit ago I was missing my father, a lot. And just wanted to say hello to him, ask him some fatherly advice. Since he died I felt like sending it out into the universe how I miss him. So I thought with Thanks Giving coming up and with the whole idea that we are to give thanks on this day, I thought it only fitting to thank my mom.

It’s no secret that we are like fire and ice, we do not see eye to eye at all. As a parent now  I try to understand her. Why she did and said what she did. I think that mom was sad for a long time, since I was adopted I feel like she resented me. She was all done raising children in her mind and now there is another baby in the house. I see that my mom, I think, may have had some mental troubles as well. She did not do well in crowds, she gets flustered and panicked. She is also up and down in moods so perhaps Bipolar. Either way, I know my mother loved me and I love her in our own strange way.

How wonderful it is to have a mother teach you to make cookies and let you lick the spoon, or even better, the bowl. My favourite memory as a kid was when my mom would make jello, she would make a little extra so I could have a 1/2 cup of warm jello before it cooled into the firm wiggly squares. I loved to drink the jello liquid while it was still hot, I still do and so does my daughter.

I was a very active child, a tom boy by all true meaning. I love that mom would get mad at me every time I came home with another cut, another nail through my foot, another gash and needed stitches. The best was when I came home with most of my flesh torn off most of my entire body from a major wipe out. She would get almost sick with worry that it would leave a scar.

“I don’t know if your nails will grow back in, why can’t you act like a girl? Why can’t you play with dolls? Why do you insist on this wild behaviour? You are not a boy and boys don’t date girls that act like boys.” She would say.

Mother would try many things over the years, I know she would stress out about what to bring to the pot luck dinners, and worry about what the other women are wearing. I know my mom never seemed to fit in with the other ladies. I know she felt a little on the outside no matter how hard she tried to fit in, to be a part of the women in the church.  I felt her pain, her tears of not understanding why they all won’t include her or even be nicer to her. Mom tried very hard. When dad couldn’t work anymore, mom went back to school and became a  nurse. She was in her 50’s. She was always doing her best to do what she could for her community, her family, and her neighbours. I respect her very much for all her hard work.

My mom was still in the 1800’s with the idea of a perfect lady. Some of that I agree with, respecting a woman is a big one. But a woman is not needing to be absolutely dependant on anyone else to be considered a lady. And there starts some of our arguments. I want to trust a man, I want to have a husband. I just can’t settle for any man, even if that means I am single my entire life and die alone. I will not settle for just any man just because he’s a “good church member”. Or just because he is “her choice”. But I love her for worrying about me and telling me to “get a man”.

When I was raising my daughter I looked at my parents for “what not to do” and “what to copy”. I believe that once you are of an adult age, you choose what person you want to be and make those changes. I can’t blame parents for everything that is wrong with me, I am to blame as I have freedom to make changes. As a parent, I tried to give my daughter the good things I loved about my upbringing. Like Sunday dinners my dad would cook dinner for breakfast and breakfast for dinner, and mom would set the table and burn the toast. Like learning the value of hard work and the willingness to sacrifice yourself to help another person. Lick the cookie batter bowl. Playing games with my daughter. There are so many I can’t list them all, but as the years go by I learn to value what mom did all those years ago and even still. She is trying her best, to be her best parent she can be, best friend, best person she can be.

I love you for that mom, thank you for all you taught me, and thank you for all your love. It’s not easy to be a great parent, never knowing if the choice you made was right or if you picked the wrong battle.

Happy Thanks Giving to my mom and all you parents out there. Thank you for trying everyday to be a better parent and learning from your mistakes.




You want me to wear a bra?

For those of you who have been following my personal everything blog, you will remember we were homeless. Unfortunately I learned that people don’t give a shit. You sleep in your car, who cares! You sleep in a card board box, who cares! In this economy it was not easy to get back on our feet alone, but we are doing it. My daughter finally found work at a Loblaws company in N.W. Calgary. (There are a lot of Loblaws company brands, such as Presidents Choice, No Frills, and the list goes on.) She had been working there for well over 6 months. She has proven that she is a hard worker. She shows up for every shift, she has trained other staff and she knows her job well. She has even stayed extra hours to help them out because they are so busy. Needless to say, she works hard.

Knowing that she is a reliable individual I feel she is taken for granted quit often, and treated rather poorly, but as she says, we need this job until we can find a better on. She is correct of course. Here is the kicker of all the mistreatment she takes. I will sum up the conversation like this;

One morning she shows up for her shift and her manager of the department tells my daughter that she needs to talk to her.

OK, about what? My daughter said.

Do you wear a bra at work? The manager said.

Not always, what does that have to do with my work? My daughter said.

There was a customer who said she was offended by my daughter not wearing a bra because she could see her nipples where perky, so we need you to wear a bra at all times at work. The manager said.

What? So let me get this straight, no one cares if you are homeless, but perky boobs is something to bitch about? Good to know. First of all, my daughter has small breasts, (not like that should make a difference) and is not shaking all over the place. No one is getting a black eye by my daughters massive breasts swinging like a hurricane down the aisles. She wears her t-shirt, plus the specific Loblaws company required shirt for that department over top. The only way that customer could have seen any  perkiness or poking nipples is if she was looking for it, and up close and personal with my daughter. Besides, I have worn bras that still show when its a little cold in the room, so wear a bra or not, perking is still happening.

The other thing is that this is a perfectly normal part of our bodies, if she is upset by perkiness, get a boob job lady! Plus, for a company to tell an employee what underwear they must wear, it must be in the contract of hire, it must be for good reason, such as modeling a bra, or for a company that is advertising breasts, or clothing. This is a grocery store for crying out loud. And it was summer time when this happened, with 30 C weather! Its not like it was -40C below, geesh.

I find this to be a very inappropriate thing to tell anyone. It is just out right sexist. Men don’t wear bras. Oh ya, not including those men who are very large and wear the bra to help stop the pain of their shaking new fat breast. Oh, and the men who are transitioning to become a woman. Or the men that are cross dressers. Or the men who are dressing up for Halloween or some type of costume party. Oh ya, and those men who wear the bra for a day, raising money for breast cancer. But, other than those men, men don’t wear bras. Telling my daughter to put on a bra in my humbled opinion, is bullshit.

There are many reasons for not wearing a bra, to stop sagging breasts is one. Yuppers, that’s true. I would not lie to you, at least not intentionally. A study was done by the French, (and we all know how amazing they are about there boobs and fashion right?), that those who wear bras are more likely to get sagging boobs when aging then those who do not. The reason was that without a bra your body is using muscles of its own to hold them up. By wearing a bra, the body doesn’t have to use those muscles and they become weak and so, in turn, you get knee slapping breasts when you are 50.

Links to find this study info : CBS News, Medical News Today.

So in all my daughters manager (and Loblaws company since the manager represents the company) is cursing my sweethearted, hard working, perky breasted daughter, with the droopy boobies.

My daughter did not protest it because we are in such a hard situation financially that she was worried she would get fired if she were to make a big deal out of it. How horrible is that? You can’t defend your right to be underwear-less because you may get fired.  So, those of you who don’t have panty lines are next, you may have a customer who is offended that you have no panty line, then your employer will tell you to start wearing panties ladies!

What do you think? I think I have clearly made my stand on this issue. Tell my what you think? Do you think an employer of a grocery store (or any store) should tell you what underwear you should wear?