I have started an experiment. Remember in grade school when we used to leave a piece of bread out on the counter for several days to witness the growth of mold? Well, I've been doing something similar with my store-bought mayonnaise. I want to see how long it has to sit out on the counter before it goes bad. So far, we're 4 days and counting, and the stuff still looks exactly as it did when it came out of the refrigerator (and the due date was June 11, 2010).
Here are the ingredients in our Hellman's brand mayo: water (hmm, so the first ingredient is water? how watered down is this stuff?), canola oil, modified corn starch, liquid yolk, vinegar, sugar, salt, spices, xanthan gum, sorbic acid, phosphoric acid, colour, concentrated lemon juice, calcium disodium EDTA, citric acid and sulphites.
Phew! No wonder this stuff lasts for days on the counter. It's got enough preservatives in it to last for several years!
Since having a baby, I have become much more concerned with what's going into our food systems. I've always been an environmentalist, and have tried to buy organic and local when I can, but I still fall back onto grocery store staples when finances get tight. Lately though, even the economic crunch hasn't stopped me from feeling a sense of dismay as I read the ingredient lists on some of the foods I buy on a regular basis - granola bars, crackers, cereals, bread, mayo....even my hummus has added preservatives.
And so, I began to wonder - how hard is it to make all of these things that I rely on for healthy snacks? I started with homemade butter and yogurt, made from the raw milk we get from a local farm. Next I'll be trying cheese! Then I wondered how hard it is to make my own granola bars (it's a piece of cake), and began baking up enormous batches, along with muffins and irish soda bread.
Our freezer is bursting at the seams, but I'm feeling a much greater sense of satisfaction now that I know what's going into my food. There's still a long way to go from here, but I hope to spend more and more time making may own food. My next project is crackers - those crunchy little guys that lend a helping hand to cheese, almond butter, hummus and so much more. If anyone out there has a good and easy recipe, please send it along!
Here's Sarah Harmer's "I'm a Mountain"
Well now how did they get that lady on TV
Laughing so naturally
For a Wal-Mart ad
Is it not as bad as I thought?
There’s a woman sending poisonous mail
And they caught her now she’s sitting in jail
While the weather station forecasts hail
From the tropics
Oh I spent the day in a shopping mall
Through the biggest storm of the century
I’m a mountain
I’m a mountain like you said to be
The sports man and his double chin
Don’t listen to me in this state I’m in
Saying things about people that I don’t know
Well it’s just that way when you get hurt
And the things you need you’re made to work
You must decide if you will die or grow
Oh I spent the day in a shopping mall
Through the biggest storm of the century
I’m a mountain
I’m a mountain
Like you said to be
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Today
Today I thought "enough is enough - it's time to blog!" Why do I always seem to neglect things that make me happy/calm/grounded when I am busy? Isn't that the time when I need them most?
These last two weeks have been a whirlwind of birthdays (my hubby's and A's), our anniversary (two years!) and the end of maternity leave. We threw A a lovely first birthday party, and a lot of my family and friends came to Ottawa to partake in the festivities. As Tom's Dad was leaving, he said to me, "a lot has happened in these two years since you and Tom were married. I only hope that this has made your marriage stronger."
And you know what? He's right! Despite the huge changes we have gone through in such a short period of time, our bond is stronger than ever. Although I can say that we are ecstatically happy as parents now, the first several months raising A was the hardest thing we've ever been through. She came out screaming, and didn't stop for almost 6 months. I once said to Tom, dead serious, that we needed to give her up for adoption because I didn't think I could take care of her. We've spent many nights at 2am holding each other, in tears, wondering how we ever thought we could raise a child.
But then, slowly but surely, A's reflux issues got better, and we suddenly found ourselves fascinated and delighted with the little personality that was emerging. We suddenly realized how special all those nights of walking, rocking and holding were, and how much she truly loved and appreciated us for caring for her while she was in pain. Now, almost every day I think of how boring my life would be without her!
Despite so much of our energy and love having been used for our little girl, I feel as though the love between us has grown exponentially. Where once we used to clam up when the going got rough, and hide in our little shells, now we are forced to open up the communication lines and face our fears. A has brought out the best and worst in both of us, and we move forward in our marriage with a much clearer picture of who we are, both as individuals and as a couple.
"I Will Love You" by Fisher is the song we played for our first dance together at our wedding. Please listen to it - it's one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard.
'Til my body is dust
'til my soul is no more
I will love you, love you
'Til the sun starts to cry
and the moon turns to rust
I will love you, love you
And I need to know -
will you stay for all time
forever and a day
Then I'll give my heart
'til the end of all time
forever and a day
'Til the storms fill my eyes
and we touch the last time
I will love you, love you
I will love you, love you...
These last two weeks have been a whirlwind of birthdays (my hubby's and A's), our anniversary (two years!) and the end of maternity leave. We threw A a lovely first birthday party, and a lot of my family and friends came to Ottawa to partake in the festivities. As Tom's Dad was leaving, he said to me, "a lot has happened in these two years since you and Tom were married. I only hope that this has made your marriage stronger."
And you know what? He's right! Despite the huge changes we have gone through in such a short period of time, our bond is stronger than ever. Although I can say that we are ecstatically happy as parents now, the first several months raising A was the hardest thing we've ever been through. She came out screaming, and didn't stop for almost 6 months. I once said to Tom, dead serious, that we needed to give her up for adoption because I didn't think I could take care of her. We've spent many nights at 2am holding each other, in tears, wondering how we ever thought we could raise a child.
But then, slowly but surely, A's reflux issues got better, and we suddenly found ourselves fascinated and delighted with the little personality that was emerging. We suddenly realized how special all those nights of walking, rocking and holding were, and how much she truly loved and appreciated us for caring for her while she was in pain. Now, almost every day I think of how boring my life would be without her!
Despite so much of our energy and love having been used for our little girl, I feel as though the love between us has grown exponentially. Where once we used to clam up when the going got rough, and hide in our little shells, now we are forced to open up the communication lines and face our fears. A has brought out the best and worst in both of us, and we move forward in our marriage with a much clearer picture of who we are, both as individuals and as a couple.
"I Will Love You" by Fisher is the song we played for our first dance together at our wedding. Please listen to it - it's one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard.
'Til my body is dust
'til my soul is no more
I will love you, love you
'Til the sun starts to cry
and the moon turns to rust
I will love you, love you
And I need to know -
will you stay for all time
forever and a day
Then I'll give my heart
'til the end of all time
forever and a day
'Til the storms fill my eyes
and we touch the last time
I will love you, love you
I will love you, love you...
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Back from Vacation
We're back online! I spent a wonderful, whirlwind week at my parent's house in Bethany, Ontario. I always seem to plan more things then I can get done when we travel out that way, as I have so many friends and family that I'm dying to see.
I grew up in Toronto, and although I can honestly say that I miss nothing about living there, I do sometimes feel far removed from all the friends I made growing up. While I finally feel "settled" here in Ottawa, part of me does miss the easy comradery I shared with my closest friends. I have made many great friends here in Ottawa as well, but maybe not the type that I can call at 10pm when I am exhausted and need someone to confide in.
It's also been hard having a baby without my family and friends around the corner. They can't just drop what they're doing and drive 4 hours to come help me out. It makes me a little nervous about planning a second baby, as who will I turn to for help if I'm feeling overwhelmed?
Perhaps I need to swallow my pride, and call someone who I may not know very well, but who would be more than happy to help. I have trouble showing my disorganized self to other people, and I put a lot of effort into appearing "together." But with a toddler and a newborn, I maybe be forced to let it all hang out.
This is "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo, and was the theme song for the TV show Cheers. The lyrics that never aired on TV make me laugh...
Making your way in the world today
Takes everything you've got;
Taking a break from all your worries
Sure would help a lot.
Wouldn't you like to get away?
All those night when you've got no lights,
The check is in the mail;
And your little angel
Hung the cat up by it's tail;
And your third fiance didn't show;
Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
You want to be where you can see,
Our troubles are all the same;
You want to be where everybody knows your name.
Roll out of bed, Mr. Coffee's dead;
The morning's looking bright;
And your shrink ran off to Europe,
And didn't even write;
And your husband wants to be a girl;
Be glad there's one place in the world
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
You want to go where people know,
People are all the same;
You want to go where everybody knows your name.
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came...
I grew up in Toronto, and although I can honestly say that I miss nothing about living there, I do sometimes feel far removed from all the friends I made growing up. While I finally feel "settled" here in Ottawa, part of me does miss the easy comradery I shared with my closest friends. I have made many great friends here in Ottawa as well, but maybe not the type that I can call at 10pm when I am exhausted and need someone to confide in.
It's also been hard having a baby without my family and friends around the corner. They can't just drop what they're doing and drive 4 hours to come help me out. It makes me a little nervous about planning a second baby, as who will I turn to for help if I'm feeling overwhelmed?
Perhaps I need to swallow my pride, and call someone who I may not know very well, but who would be more than happy to help. I have trouble showing my disorganized self to other people, and I put a lot of effort into appearing "together." But with a toddler and a newborn, I maybe be forced to let it all hang out.
This is "Where Everybody Knows Your Name" by Gary Portnoy and Judy Hart Angelo, and was the theme song for the TV show Cheers. The lyrics that never aired on TV make me laugh...
Making your way in the world today
Takes everything you've got;
Taking a break from all your worries
Sure would help a lot.
Wouldn't you like to get away?
All those night when you've got no lights,
The check is in the mail;
And your little angel
Hung the cat up by it's tail;
And your third fiance didn't show;
Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
You want to be where you can see,
Our troubles are all the same;
You want to be where everybody knows your name.
Roll out of bed, Mr. Coffee's dead;
The morning's looking bright;
And your shrink ran off to Europe,
And didn't even write;
And your husband wants to be a girl;
Be glad there's one place in the world
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
You want to go where people know,
People are all the same;
You want to go where everybody knows your name.
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came;
Where everybody knows your name,
And they're always glad you came...
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Moooo
We had a lovely visit on Sunday to a farm just outside of Eganville, Ontario. This is where we get our fresh milk every week - from four lovely Jersey cows! The milk is not pasteurized, but we get around the law (sort of) by purchasing a "cow share." So essentially, we own part of the cow. My Dad has told me experts say we're playing Russian Roulette by drinking raw milk, but I happen to disagree [note: the following paragraph is MY opinion!].
Certainly, raw milk does have some risks, as harmful bacteria can grow and nasty things can be passed from the cow into her milk. But on a well-run farm, where sick cows are excluded from the milking, and where conditions are clean and sterile, chances are you are benefiting from the micro organisms in the milk that are killed off during pasteurization.
But unfortunately, the jury is out on the raw/pasteurized milk debate. I think there are good arguments on both sides, but I also believe that we should have the right to choose whether we want to drink raw milk or not. Most parts of Europe have laws and regulations in place for the production and sale of raw milk.
Tom and I have been enjoying our milk for several months now, with no problems to speak of. When A is able to eat dairy products (she is currently allergic), will I give her the raw milk? I'm still not too sure about that one, as well as whether I will drink raw milk when I am pregnant again. There certainly are greater risks for pregnant women and children.
But don't we put ourselves at risk every day by puchasing industrial-made products at the grocery store? Who remembers the listeria outbreak from a little while ago? How about all of the recalls on meats, packaged veggies and even juice? My cousin (who will go unnamed!) works for Health Canada, testing food and supporting recall efforts. She has often warned me against eating certain foods (cream cheese), as bacteria counts are very high, although not high enough to warrant a recall.
So in essence, we are all playing russian roulette in the current environment of industrial food. It's when we get back to the land, back to the producer, and find out where our food is coming from, that we can begin to rebuild our relationship to the things we eat.
This is Tim McGraw with "Down on the Farm"
Every Friday night there's a steady cloud of dust
That leads back to a field filled with pickup trucks
Got old Hank cranking way up loud
Got coolers in the back
Tailgates down
There's a big fire burnin' but don't be alarmed
It's just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Ed's been on the tractor ain't seen Becky all week
Somebody said they seen 'em heading down to the creek
Farmer Johnson's daughters just pulled up in a jeep
Man he knows how to grow 'em if ya know what I mean
Old Dave's gettin' loud but he don't mean no harm
We're just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
You can have a lot of fun in a New York minute
But there's some things you can't do inside those city limits
Ain't no closing time
Ain't no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Well you can come as you are
There ain't no dress code
Just some rural route rules that you need to know
Don't mess with the bull
He can get real mean
Don't forget to shut the gate
Stay out of the beans
If it starts to rainin' will just head to the barn
We're country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
You can have a lot of fun in a New York minute
But there's some things you can't do inside those city limits
Ain't no closing time
Ain't no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Ain't no closing time
Ain't no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Oh let's get down y'all
Stay out of that hay
Certainly, raw milk does have some risks, as harmful bacteria can grow and nasty things can be passed from the cow into her milk. But on a well-run farm, where sick cows are excluded from the milking, and where conditions are clean and sterile, chances are you are benefiting from the micro organisms in the milk that are killed off during pasteurization.
But unfortunately, the jury is out on the raw/pasteurized milk debate. I think there are good arguments on both sides, but I also believe that we should have the right to choose whether we want to drink raw milk or not. Most parts of Europe have laws and regulations in place for the production and sale of raw milk.
Tom and I have been enjoying our milk for several months now, with no problems to speak of. When A is able to eat dairy products (she is currently allergic), will I give her the raw milk? I'm still not too sure about that one, as well as whether I will drink raw milk when I am pregnant again. There certainly are greater risks for pregnant women and children.
But don't we put ourselves at risk every day by puchasing industrial-made products at the grocery store? Who remembers the listeria outbreak from a little while ago? How about all of the recalls on meats, packaged veggies and even juice? My cousin (who will go unnamed!) works for Health Canada, testing food and supporting recall efforts. She has often warned me against eating certain foods (cream cheese), as bacteria counts are very high, although not high enough to warrant a recall.
So in essence, we are all playing russian roulette in the current environment of industrial food. It's when we get back to the land, back to the producer, and find out where our food is coming from, that we can begin to rebuild our relationship to the things we eat.
This is Tim McGraw with "Down on the Farm"
Every Friday night there's a steady cloud of dust
That leads back to a field filled with pickup trucks
Got old Hank cranking way up loud
Got coolers in the back
Tailgates down
There's a big fire burnin' but don't be alarmed
It's just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Ed's been on the tractor ain't seen Becky all week
Somebody said they seen 'em heading down to the creek
Farmer Johnson's daughters just pulled up in a jeep
Man he knows how to grow 'em if ya know what I mean
Old Dave's gettin' loud but he don't mean no harm
We're just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
You can have a lot of fun in a New York minute
But there's some things you can't do inside those city limits
Ain't no closing time
Ain't no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Well you can come as you are
There ain't no dress code
Just some rural route rules that you need to know
Don't mess with the bull
He can get real mean
Don't forget to shut the gate
Stay out of the beans
If it starts to rainin' will just head to the barn
We're country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
You can have a lot of fun in a New York minute
But there's some things you can't do inside those city limits
Ain't no closing time
Ain't no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Ain't no closing time
Ain't no cover charge
Just country boys and girls gettin' down on the farm
Oh let's get down y'all
Stay out of that hay
Friday, August 13, 2010
Coming to you live...
Do you ever dream up an alter ego? Someone fantabulously better, sweeter, fresher and more exciting than you'll ever be?
This blog has got me conjuring up a fantastic alter ego. Given that very few people read me (hey, I've got a few more followers now!) I sometimes imagine I'm a late night radio host. In my fantasy, I have funky straight hair, black as night, and cut to different lengths around my face. I have a nose ring, and wear dark eyeliner and blue eyeshadow. I have fat, sultry lips licked in a juicy pink gloss. My voice is very sexy - deep and comanding. When I talk, people tend to listen.
But, alas, I've been demoted to the late night spot on CKLU, the local rock radio station, for making inappropriate comments about a nitwit listener who called in to request Nickleback.
And so, I ramble into the night, speaking to the shift workers wiling away the hours 'till morn'. I get to play anything I want, and my comments are rarely scrutinized by radio execs...who would be listening anyway? My miniscule, but devoted, group of listeners call in regularly to request songs, which they dedicate to their dearly departed (lovers, that is). These are the loners in life, the ones sipping from the bottle of whiskey, smoke in hand as they slurr their way onto the radio. I hear them all, hear their pain, and play them a song that will get them through the night.
Here's a smooth song to help that whiskey go down..."Fallin and Flyin" by Stephen Bruton:
I was goin’ where I shouldn’t go
seein’ who I shouldn’t see
doin’ what I shouldn’t do
and bein’ who I shouldn’t be
a little voice told me it’s all wrong
another voice told me it’s alright
I used to think I was strong
but lately I just lost the fight
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
I got tired of bein’ good
started missing that old feeling free
stop actin’ like I thought I should
and went on back to bein’ me
I never meant to hurt no one
I just had to have my way
if there is such a thing as too much fun
this must be the price you pay
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
you never see it comin’ till it’s gone
it all happens for a reason
even when it’s wrong
especially when it’s wrong
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
I was goin’ where I shouldn’t go
seein’ who I shouldn’t see
doin’ what I shouldn’t do
and bein’ who I shouldn’t be
This blog has got me conjuring up a fantastic alter ego. Given that very few people read me (hey, I've got a few more followers now!) I sometimes imagine I'm a late night radio host. In my fantasy, I have funky straight hair, black as night, and cut to different lengths around my face. I have a nose ring, and wear dark eyeliner and blue eyeshadow. I have fat, sultry lips licked in a juicy pink gloss. My voice is very sexy - deep and comanding. When I talk, people tend to listen.
But, alas, I've been demoted to the late night spot on CKLU, the local rock radio station, for making inappropriate comments about a nitwit listener who called in to request Nickleback.
And so, I ramble into the night, speaking to the shift workers wiling away the hours 'till morn'. I get to play anything I want, and my comments are rarely scrutinized by radio execs...who would be listening anyway? My miniscule, but devoted, group of listeners call in regularly to request songs, which they dedicate to their dearly departed (lovers, that is). These are the loners in life, the ones sipping from the bottle of whiskey, smoke in hand as they slurr their way onto the radio. I hear them all, hear their pain, and play them a song that will get them through the night.
Here's a smooth song to help that whiskey go down..."Fallin and Flyin" by Stephen Bruton:
I was goin’ where I shouldn’t go
seein’ who I shouldn’t see
doin’ what I shouldn’t do
and bein’ who I shouldn’t be
a little voice told me it’s all wrong
another voice told me it’s alright
I used to think I was strong
but lately I just lost the fight
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
I got tired of bein’ good
started missing that old feeling free
stop actin’ like I thought I should
and went on back to bein’ me
I never meant to hurt no one
I just had to have my way
if there is such a thing as too much fun
this must be the price you pay
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
you never see it comin’ till it’s gone
it all happens for a reason
even when it’s wrong
especially when it’s wrong
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
funny how fallin’ feels like flyin’
for a little while
I was goin’ where I shouldn’t go
seein’ who I shouldn’t see
doin’ what I shouldn’t do
and bein’ who I shouldn’t be
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Slacking Off
I have SO much to do. Our house is still a chaotic mess since moving in one month and a half ago. Tom is currently working on redoing the master bedroom, and will shortly begin the destruction (and reconstruction) of our upstairs bathroom. Until that time, all of our master bedroom stuff is in the office, and all of our office stuff is in our guest room, and all of our guest room stuff is...well, it's not really anywhere. It's just sitting downstairs in big pile.
In the next month we have many guests coming to stay to check out our new digs. Friends are coming for a weekend getaway, and we've got a big party planned for A's first birthday on the labour day long weekend.
So....I have SO MUCH TO DO.
And yet, when my nanny showed up today to take A away for a few hours, instead of tackling all of that stuff, I instead poured myself a glass of wine (hey, it was 4:30...a little early, but still legal!), got in the bath, and read the latest book by William Deverell.
Yes, I have a nanny. Three days a week, for three hours a day. I somehow feel that I need to explain why I have a nanny, given that I'm on maternity leave and only have one child. It's simply that I am very tired from having to parent little A all night long, and hired a nanny to give me a chance to take a nap during the day (A does nap, but still wakes up every 45 minutes...it never fails!)
Having to write a post to explain why I needed a bath and glass of wine, or why I need a nanny, is so typically "North American" of me. As a society, we judge ourselves by how hard we've worked, and how little time we've spent just doing nothing. The longer the hours we spend at the office (or at our various jobs), the happier we are with ourselves. "I'm so productive today," I think to myself.
Take some time today to contemplate the meaning of productivity in your own life. Can we begin to redefine its meaning? And while you are so busy in contemplation, play a little Sarah Harmer for me. This is "The Hideout":
Look at that green
Out through the screen
After a quick rain came
So fast that
There wasn't time
To roll up the windows
And pull the clothes down off the line
But i don't care
It was so dry
And the grass is happy
And i think 'so am i'
'Cause i'm through thinking about you
For now i'm out at the hideout
Far enough outside of town
You can come
You can stay
If there's something you need
To get away from
Look at the day dropping away
Hear the traffic pass along
A distant sideroad down the way
I think the dust has settled on me
But i don't care, it was so calm
I knew i wouldn't stay forever
Knew i'd get some things together
And move on
But for now i'm out at the hideout
Far enough outside of town
You can come, you can stay
If there's something you need
To get away from
I just thought of you
And what you said
Laid out on the pullout
Did you forget
You said you wouldn't forget
Look at that green
Out through the screen
After a quick rain came
So fast that
There wasn't time to roll up the window
And pull the clothes down off the line
But i don't care
It was so dry
The grass is happy and i think 'so am i'
'Cause i'm through thinking about you
And for now i'm out at the hideout
Far enough outside of town
You can come out
You can come out
When there is no one around
All out at the hideout
Far enough from being found
You can come, you can stay
If there's something you need
To get away from
In the next month we have many guests coming to stay to check out our new digs. Friends are coming for a weekend getaway, and we've got a big party planned for A's first birthday on the labour day long weekend.
So....I have SO MUCH TO DO.
And yet, when my nanny showed up today to take A away for a few hours, instead of tackling all of that stuff, I instead poured myself a glass of wine (hey, it was 4:30...a little early, but still legal!), got in the bath, and read the latest book by William Deverell.
Yes, I have a nanny. Three days a week, for three hours a day. I somehow feel that I need to explain why I have a nanny, given that I'm on maternity leave and only have one child. It's simply that I am very tired from having to parent little A all night long, and hired a nanny to give me a chance to take a nap during the day (A does nap, but still wakes up every 45 minutes...it never fails!)
Having to write a post to explain why I needed a bath and glass of wine, or why I need a nanny, is so typically "North American" of me. As a society, we judge ourselves by how hard we've worked, and how little time we've spent just doing nothing. The longer the hours we spend at the office (or at our various jobs), the happier we are with ourselves. "I'm so productive today," I think to myself.
Take some time today to contemplate the meaning of productivity in your own life. Can we begin to redefine its meaning? And while you are so busy in contemplation, play a little Sarah Harmer for me. This is "The Hideout":
Look at that green
Out through the screen
After a quick rain came
So fast that
There wasn't time
To roll up the windows
And pull the clothes down off the line
But i don't care
It was so dry
And the grass is happy
And i think 'so am i'
'Cause i'm through thinking about you
For now i'm out at the hideout
Far enough outside of town
You can come
You can stay
If there's something you need
To get away from
Look at the day dropping away
Hear the traffic pass along
A distant sideroad down the way
I think the dust has settled on me
But i don't care, it was so calm
I knew i wouldn't stay forever
Knew i'd get some things together
And move on
But for now i'm out at the hideout
Far enough outside of town
You can come, you can stay
If there's something you need
To get away from
I just thought of you
And what you said
Laid out on the pullout
Did you forget
You said you wouldn't forget
Look at that green
Out through the screen
After a quick rain came
So fast that
There wasn't time to roll up the window
And pull the clothes down off the line
But i don't care
It was so dry
The grass is happy and i think 'so am i'
'Cause i'm through thinking about you
And for now i'm out at the hideout
Far enough outside of town
You can come out
You can come out
When there is no one around
All out at the hideout
Far enough from being found
You can come, you can stay
If there's something you need
To get away from
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Moving On
It's a done deal. I am changing careers.
It was a hard decision to make. But alas, we must pay our mortgage and eat, so I had to find something that could pay the bills (and allow me to stay at home part-time with A).
So in today's post, I would like to make mention of the work I have done these past few years, and talk about something that usually gets pushed under the rug in our society. In doing so, I realize I am "outing" myself in this blog. I had intended to keep The Chickadee Tweet completely anonymous, as I felt I might be creatively contained if I was attempting to write posts that would be read by family or friends. However, I've decided that this blogging stuff is just so much fun, that I would like to share it with the people in my little world!
Hopewell is an eating disorders support centre (www.hopewell.ca). They don't provide treatment, but information, support and resources for all individuals affected by eating disorders. This means the sufferers themselves, and their family and friends can all turn to Hopewell for support.
It continues to amaze me how many people struggle with eating issues. And I'm not just talking about serious illnesses such as anorexia and bulimia, but other eating issues such as compulsive eating, overeating, and an obsession with organic and "pure" food. Even individuals who wouldn't say that they had an "issue" with food still spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about their weight and body image.
The sad part of it is, all of these behaviours are getting passed down to our children, and are affecting girls and boys as young as nine years of age. I don't want to be one of those people who says "now, in my day..." but it is a fact that the number of people affected by these issues is on the rise. Is it our culture's preoccupation with a thin body type? Is it the overabundance of food? Is it the advertising for fast and processed food? Or perhaps our new found obsession with local, organic and "natural" food? (I can't tell you how many eating disorder sufferers I've met who claim to be vegan and/or raw food purists). It's probably a combination of all these things, as well as individual factors such as temperament and family history of mental illness.
I sometimes get asked the question "is obesity considered an eating disorder?" The short answer is "no." There are too many social and biological factors that determine obesity to label it an eating disorder. But, we can see many links bewteen eating disorder sufferers and obesity, and we can also see how our media's claims that obesity is reaching "epidemic proportions!" can have an impact on young people. All of this focus on healthy eating and physical activity - heck, even the Wii measures children's BMI - may be pressuring some young people to take dangerous measures to lose weight.
My work at Hopewell was simple, but deeply meaningful to me. I provided one-on-one peer support to people affected by eating disorders, organized programs and services for our community, and helped to raise money for such an important organization. Every day I went home knowing that I had made a difference in someone's life, or had given a worried mother/father a sense of hope for their child's wellbeing. I will miss the quirky staff in our building, my manager and co-worker, and all the wonderful volunteers who have donated so many hours to Hopewell.
To honour the organization and my time working there, I have chosen a special song (well, special to me!). Although this has nothing to do with eating disorders, I love the lyrics and the idea that someone is there to help when you "just can't go on." This is "Sisters of Mercy" by Leonard Cohen. Serena Ryder sings a beautiful version of this song.
Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone.
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on.
And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me their song.
Oh I hope you run into them, you who've been travelling so long.
Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.
Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned:
When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.
They lay down beside me, I made my confession to them.
They touched both my eyes and I touched the dew on their hem.
If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn
they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.
When I left they were sleeping, I hope you run into them soon.
Don't turn on the lights, you can read their address by the moon.
And you won't make me jealous if I hear that they sweetened your night:
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right,
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right.
It was a hard decision to make. But alas, we must pay our mortgage and eat, so I had to find something that could pay the bills (and allow me to stay at home part-time with A).
So in today's post, I would like to make mention of the work I have done these past few years, and talk about something that usually gets pushed under the rug in our society. In doing so, I realize I am "outing" myself in this blog. I had intended to keep The Chickadee Tweet completely anonymous, as I felt I might be creatively contained if I was attempting to write posts that would be read by family or friends. However, I've decided that this blogging stuff is just so much fun, that I would like to share it with the people in my little world!
Hopewell is an eating disorders support centre (www.hopewell.ca). They don't provide treatment, but information, support and resources for all individuals affected by eating disorders. This means the sufferers themselves, and their family and friends can all turn to Hopewell for support.
It continues to amaze me how many people struggle with eating issues. And I'm not just talking about serious illnesses such as anorexia and bulimia, but other eating issues such as compulsive eating, overeating, and an obsession with organic and "pure" food. Even individuals who wouldn't say that they had an "issue" with food still spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about their weight and body image.
The sad part of it is, all of these behaviours are getting passed down to our children, and are affecting girls and boys as young as nine years of age. I don't want to be one of those people who says "now, in my day..." but it is a fact that the number of people affected by these issues is on the rise. Is it our culture's preoccupation with a thin body type? Is it the overabundance of food? Is it the advertising for fast and processed food? Or perhaps our new found obsession with local, organic and "natural" food? (I can't tell you how many eating disorder sufferers I've met who claim to be vegan and/or raw food purists). It's probably a combination of all these things, as well as individual factors such as temperament and family history of mental illness.
I sometimes get asked the question "is obesity considered an eating disorder?" The short answer is "no." There are too many social and biological factors that determine obesity to label it an eating disorder. But, we can see many links bewteen eating disorder sufferers and obesity, and we can also see how our media's claims that obesity is reaching "epidemic proportions!" can have an impact on young people. All of this focus on healthy eating and physical activity - heck, even the Wii measures children's BMI - may be pressuring some young people to take dangerous measures to lose weight.
My work at Hopewell was simple, but deeply meaningful to me. I provided one-on-one peer support to people affected by eating disorders, organized programs and services for our community, and helped to raise money for such an important organization. Every day I went home knowing that I had made a difference in someone's life, or had given a worried mother/father a sense of hope for their child's wellbeing. I will miss the quirky staff in our building, my manager and co-worker, and all the wonderful volunteers who have donated so many hours to Hopewell.
To honour the organization and my time working there, I have chosen a special song (well, special to me!). Although this has nothing to do with eating disorders, I love the lyrics and the idea that someone is there to help when you "just can't go on." This is "Sisters of Mercy" by Leonard Cohen. Serena Ryder sings a beautiful version of this song.
Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone.
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on.
And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me their song.
Oh I hope you run into them, you who've been travelling so long.
Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control.
It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.
Well I've been where you're hanging, I think I can see how you're pinned:
When you're not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you've sinned.
They lay down beside me, I made my confession to them.
They touched both my eyes and I touched the dew on their hem.
If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn
they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.
When I left they were sleeping, I hope you run into them soon.
Don't turn on the lights, you can read their address by the moon.
And you won't make me jealous if I hear that they sweetened your night:
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right,
We weren't lovers like that and besides it would still be all right.
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