I can’t believe its Friday again. I meant to write pretty much every day, I did in my head, but now I’m so tired I can’t remember half of it. Tuesday usually provides lots of fodder for conversation, but the ladies weren’t half as rowdy. I also taught a class yesterday at our church. Seven ladies showed up, so I thought that was excellent. They enjoyed themselves too. Today we have to go to town for.. ummmm… I can’t really say because Mom may be reading and it involves something for Christmas.

Oh, now I remember. My kitchen is torn apart becasue we got some cabinets on Wednesday at a liquidation place. Less than $600 later, and we’re ready to have a finished kitchen. I can’t believe it, it has been so long. I took a “before” picture, but since we didn’t get the digital camera, you’ll have to wait. We’re going to integrate the cabinet that Ron made with the ones we got, rather than replace them because we still need to reach the hot water heater. I went with the white cabinets, mostly because I am so sick of looking at wood tone, even if they were finished! You may not know, but a lot of this place has exposed wood that isn’t sealed in any way. Some of it even needs like like oh, say, some insulation, vapour barrier and actual wall! Plus there’s that chipboard we put up in the living room that I haven’t painted yet. And tongue & groove boards on two ceilings.

We were discussing the possibility of finishing the living room, totally, paint and everything, for Christmas. We want to put the tree & presents out there this year. I guess God had other plans, since we lucked out on the cabinets. Coupled with my new stove (oh yeah – picked up a brand new sparkling white stove on Monday) things are looking up!

Except that the house is a total mess.

We took down the formica table in the kitchen so we would have room to put up the largest cabinet set. It was missing some hardware, but what did we expect? We’ll stop in today and ask the guy if he has some spare hardware kicking around. Worst case we’ll have to buy some extra.

Anyway, so now we have this 5 foot long “starter set” cabinet piece up where the table was. It has no back since its supposed to go against the wall, and no top since we’re suppose to put counter top on it. Well we don’t have that yet, so I rested the box it came in on top of it. At least I can still pile things on top, just not heavy things like dishes.

Some day I’ll draw you a picture, but I’ll try & explain for now. Our kitchen is one of those lovely “open concept” things which seemed like a good idea at the time. The room is a big “L” shape, with the kitchen in one end, the dining area (with the new wood table) in the corner, and our bedroom area in the other end. Funnily enough, we have used tall dressers and a china cabinet to form a “bedroom wall”. We’re supposed to stud in this wall over the winter, but who knows? We’re a close family, so its not much of an issue. Until we have company.

In other building news, I picked up a couple of interior doors for $6 each at a flea market/craft sale on Saturday. I need to slice off about 10 inches, and we were worried about how to cover up the cut end, because these things are hollow, you know, but one lady there told me how she did it. I’m also not so picky anymore. This is not turning into our dream-home-for-all-time, so we’re prepared to make do with something not perfect than to go without until we get the look we want. We wanted the bathroom door to match the barn door we made for one of the bedrooms. Too bad the doorways aren’t the same size, or I would have switched it.

So, when the bathroom door is up, you’re free to come over and stay a while longer, not just until you need to pee.

I remember.

I remember my grandfather telling me stories of London during “The War”, the only war that had reference to him. Of how he was seperated from my grandmother, and their oldest child, my Uncle David. They had moved the women and children out of London to be “safer” and also Nanny had tuberculosis on top of that. At the time he didn’t know if he’d ever see them again.
He told me stories about waiting for the bus when a whizz-bang came in, shrapnel neatly slicing off the arm of the women next to him and a buddy. The bus then pulled up, and they loaded her on with instructions to the driver to take her to the hospital, fast.
He told stories about the rooming house he stayed in. One night he had just laid down, after sitting up reading. A bomb landed, and the window blew in. Jagged pieces of glass embedded on the wall behind his bed, right where he had been sitting.
He told me a story with a smile, the story of the day he walked into the underground radio room, all the lights flashing, people scurrying about, and the news it was finally over.

He told me stories from another war, stories about a man he never knew. A man who sunk to the bottom of the ocean in a submarine off the coast of Holland. A man who would never see his son grow up to hear him tell the tales to his grandchildren.

I remember my father-in-law, telling me his Air Force stories, and how he marched until his feet were flat. How he wanted to be a pilot, but somehow his bad eyesight slipped through the cracks until the final testing. Cheated at the end of a chance to defend his country.

I remember Wendy telling me stories of her father, a ship’s cook, and how he almost never spoke of the horrors he saw. She told me how the troops were fed a drink a day, to steel their nerves, and how the drink finally killed him.

I remember how these stories were told to me, with an old, wrinkled hand pressed against mine. The teller’s eyes misting over at rememberance, the notations of who in the story has passed on, the eyes not seeing the room before them. The lips pressed together, a shake of the head, a deep breath and a sigh, then changing to a more suitable topic. Stiff upper lip and all.

I remember, and I pass these stories on.

The following is an e-mail I received from my grandparents when I asked them to share some stories for the children.

Rememberance Day or armistice day as we used to call it was instigated after the first world war. Earl Haig who had served in the war,worked on the foundation and it was decreed by Lloyd George and passed by parliament to be held every November (as Nanny says) It was he who evolved poppy day, He organized works and factories who employed amputees and wounded vets to make the red poppy. It was a copy of the poppies from Flanders in Belgium. Andrea you will remember the visit we paid to Eye, Grammar School,Church etc well we used to form up (the whole school) and March from there to the town hall and have an outdoor service with a representation from the services and certainly the vets. from the 1914 war. Scouts, Guides and army cadets etc.> A bugle was blown –the last post and we dispersed for the day. For my mother and I it was a sad day…I wore my fathers medals(Adrian has these). Mother used to hate it every year, but she attended because I was there.
By the time it was all over the pubs were open and they were all packed, everybody telling each other war experiences, by 2 pm everyone dispersed.
Even during the second world war we had armistice. It was to be held the nearest Sunday to the 11th. It was a short service held in Whitehall by the cenotaph , and attended by the royal family. Yes they turned out smack in the m iddle of the bombing, albeit daytime. and the doodle bugs One big reason for it to be held on a Sunday was the disruption of traffic and workers on war work,and of course traffic is low in the city on that day.
Now Nannys entry…….Remembrance Day-first called Armistice Day in 1918 after the first world war The peace treaty was signed at the eleventh hour, on the 11th day of the 11th month!!
At school in England we would go to school in our Sunday best for the church service-singing “O God our help in ages past” wave union jacks and have my hair tied up with red,white and blue ribbons. Then we would have a half day holiday, which we enjoyed very much.

Okay, so I’m going to cheat a little here… I will write more entries out, the ones in my head from last week, pretty soon. They will not be written on the actual day they happened, but from that perspective. So I’ll be backtraking. Back-updating?
It’s probably a journalling no-no, but this is just to get caught up, okay? I’ll do better, really I will. I promise.
Note: Today really is today.

I was over at Al’s reading his entry for last night, whereby he totally deflates my balloon over the Left Behind books. I even printed the page(s) out for Ron to read. He thought it was pretty good. Jeepers.
I am not going to get all huffy and fire off a nastygram to Al or anything. I think its more my disappointment that someone else doesn’t like something I really really like.
God, that sounds so junior-high.
I’m still getting used to the idea that, just because you believe in the same God, the same Holy book, that you may have different ideas about things like religion. Go figure.

I am sure Ron & I will have discussions through the day, where we will analyze & rehash things, with him doing a lot of explaining and I will eventually come to realize Al has made a point and my knee-jerk reactions are just that.

It’s so hard to write these things out. I mean, in real-time conversation, there are nuances of the face, the tone used and (for me) hand gestures that convey what I mean. And that confused look sometimes. I’m just trying to figure all these thoughts out that are in my head. I “see” things in there, sort of a “feely” thing. I’m so visual, its getting scary. I can see what I mean in my head, and have trouble writing it out. Hence this here journal exercise.

I am a little cranky this morning. I like to sleep in a little on Saturdays. I must have woke up a half a dozen times. The last straw was when the girls woke up, earlier than on a weekday, and made enough noise for a roomfull of giggly girls.
They were going through a box of clothes someone gave us, alternately complementing one another and planning outfits, and arguing over what piece fit who better. All in loud, high-pitched girly tones. Voices (conversations, the radio, t.v.) wake me up every time.

And after I trudged all the way downstairs here to the office, I discovered I had forgotten to put sugar in my tea.

Things to do today…
finish some tissue paper hats for orders
have that home party for Wendy (she sells candles & wrought iron things for a local MLM)
tidy up the store
do that mountain of dishes
do church bulletin tonight

Colors.

I don’t believe in auras, but the word fits with what I want to describe, so I’ll use it. I do think of certain colors when I see certain people in my mind’s eye. I have my own colors. Not ones the necessarily look good on me, but ones evoking feelings and emotions. That’s what I mean.

My world is a visual world, that’s why the words, those hard, defined *things* are so hard to express. Let’s use colors instead, shall we? I see them inside and out.

I used to be black.
Black for sin.
Pain.
Nothingness.
Emptyness.
Block it out.

I used to be red.
Red is pain.
Blood.
Passion.
Rage.
Lust.
Scream.
Fire.
Hate.
A daily death.

Blue was there.
Blue is sadness.
Bruises.
Tears.
Icy cold.

My colors have changed.
Crystalized like a butterfly.
Morphed.
Tempered in the fire.

They have grown into Green.
Growth.
Survival.
Change.
Rebirth.
The color of spring.
Kermit the frog, who is happy being just a frog.

The edges are White.
Floating.
Peaceful.
Tranquil.
Lazy clouds on a summer’s day.

Pink makes an appearance.
Warmth.
Laughter.
Children.
Love.

And an underlining of Yellow.
Smiles.
Hope.

A rainbow of colors, tumbling in the kaleidoscope. The old colors no longer the dominant ones in the scheme. Fading to shadows of their former selves, the new colors bright, painting over the old.

Today I feel like I did something. Actually, I feel like I did a hundred somethings. Ron must’ve got a really good night’s sleep because he was out of bed even before the alarm went off. He even brought me over a cup of hot tea for when I was fully awake. Chipperness in the morning like that really irritates me.
He decided it was time to cut down two of the trees in front of the house. We wanted them to go, partly because people have a hard time backing out around them. It’s easy when you get the hang of it, but I know it screws people up. Especialy women. I know that sounds sexist, but its true.
Anyway, he had one down by the time Addison left for school. The other he wanted me to help lean on so it wouldn’t hit the power line. Nothing like some panicked adrenalin in the morning to wake you up! At one point, it was leaning in the wrong direction, and I screamed for him to stop. When he stopped cutting & looked up, the tree was just leaning there all on its own. But this boy knows what he’s doing, and it came down without hitting anything. Well, a few pushes from us, and a couple extra cuts helped.

The plan for the morning was for him to sit with the girls and direct/erase/plan their schoolwork, and I could sit in the office at the computer and work at all the piled up things that were… shall we say… delayed.
I tackled the taxes first, at least my end, he does his side of course, which took most of the morning. I thought I discovered that I had overpaid a supplier, but no, I had just lost my copy of the invoices, but then found them, still in the office, under some scrap paper and two potatoes. Dirt included. Such is the price in having an office that opens to the outdoors. And its the most convenient entrance to the house. I can’t wait to get the back room cleaned out, then the office can be a mudroom, and all the office stuff can move out back with the wood stove.
About 10, Ron popped his head in the office to ask, “Wasn’t it bookmobile day today?”
Eeek! I’d almost forgot!
The lady on the bus was her usual self, and we managed to come away with only 20 or so books. We’d forgotten some novels for Addison like he asked, but we did find a For Better or Worse book, which made up for it. So you know when we got back to the house, that blew away the rest of the time until lunch.

I’ve already finished one book; it was a youth novel that was in the wrong section, but it was still reading material, and I finished it over supper. Both Addison and Sarah said they didn’t want to read it, but give it a couple weeks and they’ll be looking for it. I also got part-way thru an Erma Bombeck, although I’m not sure my sides will survive. I also read out a spelling test to Meaghan at the same time. She got all twenty words right, and said they weren’t even hard!
Plus I skimmed thru a love story. Hardly looked at the other four I lugged home. I hope they last the three weeks.

This afternoon, I typed receipts into QuickBooks. Sales are getting more consistent, and starting to pick up. I hope my order comes in soon, the envelopes on my desk are piling up. I’m sure it won’t be until we get back from Halifax this weekend.
Ron decided since it looked like it was going to be crappy weather, that he would take a much-needed trip to town and elsewheres. He was on a hunt for a new part for my stove, plus a trip to an office in Woodstock for some type of finish-up computer work. He also just called (at 8:30) to say he was in Nackawic and on his way home; he had invited himself to a friend’s for supper. But at least he’s done. I forgot to ask if he found the stove part.

I managed to get the girls to tidy up some of the papers by their desks. It honestly looked like something exploded in the living room. But dangle some computer time in front of them, and they’ll do all kinds of chores that they’d otherwise forget.
When reiterating my day, the phrase “laundry list” comes to mind, so I’ll tell you I washed one load, and dried another load from yesterday. So there. i’m sure you don’t want to hear about every single thing I did, I can’t even remember half of it. the only odd thing was that nobody dropped by and the phone barely rang. I even picked it up once to see if it worked, but I knew it did, since I had been off & on the net. Hmm…. maybe that’s why nobody called…………..