I'm feeling a little sentimental as I sit to write my final post from my current home. I've lived in this house thirteen years - the only one I lived in longer was the one I grew up in. (If you want to know more about my memories of that house you can read them in an earlier post called Home Again.) To say I get a little attached to the houses I live in is a gross understatement.
Let me give you a little background on this house. After spending three miserable years in Quebec we moved here - just as our sons were about to begin high school. (Our younger son skipped a grade.) We were anxious to start a happy new chapter back in Ontario again, and were on our second trip to look at homes in Kitchener when we saw this house. We'd seen another place across town the day before that we were all quite taken with, but it stretched the budget a little tighter than my husband or I wanted. (It was one of those houses that, as my real estate agent put it, was "more done up.") Still, there was something about the bones of this house that I liked, in spite of its mostly horrific decor. I knew it would be a good fit for our family, and that with a few cosmetic changes and some elbow grease we'd make it nicer than the more expensive house. (And we did.)
An Ode to My 70's Split Level
More than a dozen years
I've spent within your walls
and it's with smiles and tears
my memory recalls
the first time we stepped in
on avocado tiles,
and now I have to grin -
they wooed me with their wiles.
You were Mike Brady's dream
in Laura Ingall's dress,
the mishmash made you seem
a schizophrenic mess!
'Twas not love at first sight,
but once shag rugs were gone
and hardwood floors shone bright,
the love affair was on.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg July 13, 2016
The one time in my life I turned a blind eye to something that was technically vandalism was the night before we took possession of this house. One of my sons was making note of the particularly odious embossed floral wallpaper that graced the walls of what was about to become his room, and noticed a loose edge that he began to pick at. "Give it a good tug" I thought, and when he read my mind and did just that I didn't reprimand. Over the coming days one of our top priorities was removing every trace of the horrible plasticized Holly Hobby-ish wallpaper that the former owner had put up to bring a 70's era house into the style fiasco known as "the 80's". I sincerely believe that the house began to smile once the shag carpeting (in shades of various bodily fluids) was torn out and the walls were stripped and painted.
I grew to love the bright daylight basement with its ten foot ceilings. I learned that the sun room is blistering hot during the heat of summer, but an incredible vantage point for spring thunder storms. I learned to love sleeping in our dark and peaceful basement bedroom while our sons ruled the top level of the house and kept their crazy teen aged hours. Somewhere along the way this house crept into my heart - and I'm certain it will always hold a corner there.
Our family has enjoyed a really good life within these walls. We've had both brilliant and totally inane conversations here. We've hosted parties here. We even held a memorial service here when my mother in law died. One son left this house one morning and came back into it a married man. We've celebrated twelve of every holiday that exists within these walls. We've also celebrated some milestones here - two graduations from high school, one graduation from university, the beginnings and endings of several jobs...this house has witnessed a lot of changes within our family. Now my sons are grown up. One is married and living elsewhere. The other is still living with us, and has decided to come along with us to our next home. My husband and I have changed too - I like to think that we've both grown a little wiser than we were the day we first moved in.
Thirteen years ago I had little experience with gardening or yard work. I hated bugs and worms and dirt, and had a phobia about birds pooping on me. (Okay, so I'm still afraid of birds, but the rest I can cope with now.) We had inherited a strip of flower garden along the back fence, and I gradually developed an interest in making it progressively nicer. Each year I added a few perennials and divided and moved around whatever had survived over the winter. It looked pretty nice for a while, but four or five years ago the cinch bugs ate up what few blades of grass were left after a particularly bad drought, and our backyard and garden both looked so dismal that we decided to landscape the entire yard as soon as possible.
I never thought I'd say this, but the garden my husband had put in for me was the best gift I've ever received in my life. Working outside has become a passion. Getting my hands dirty as I beatify one little corner of the world is now a huge source of satisfaction. Pulling weeds gives me time to muse on my life and the happenings in the world around me. Planting and caring for flowers makes me feel connected to the earth and the planet in a substantial way. I helped design the garden - (I gave the landscape designer a rough sketch that she greatly improved upon) - and knowing that I helped create, and have managed to sustain this thing of beauty has increased my self confidence and multiplied my desire to be creative. I never thought it was possible to get attached to a bunch of plants, but I have. Needless to say, the gardening bug has bitten and I look forward to making my next yard a little oasis too.
I wrote this poem one September day after spending an afternoon in the dirt. I'm not sure whether I began writing it one or two years back, but I found it in a file full of scribblings a few months ago and finished it up. You see, every autumn makes me feel a little nostalgic for the seasons just before - for the anticipation I feel each spring as green sprouts pop up, and for those long summer days I spend with my spade and my trusty old rusted watering can. This year the nostalgia will come a little earlier...
Fading Glory
The fading glory of
the autumn flowers
is evidence of end
of summer hours.
The sun's heat wanes,
September days grow chill -
but of my garden
I've not had my fill.
In spite of tattered leaves
and blossoms bleached,
and pinnacles of beauty
still unreached -
the barren stalks hold
mem'ry of what's done -
of rampant blooms beneath
an August sun,
and promise of fresh growth
when Spring's begun.
I turn from fading blossoms
with a sigh.
I know they'll bloom afresh -
though by and by.
They soon will wear a
blanket cold and white,
but when it melts they'll
once again delight.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, April, 2016
When I finished off this poem I already knew that I wouldn't see my garden this September, let alone next spring. That chokes me up a bit, but I will toil on until the day we move, in hopes that it will become a place of sanctuary and inspiration to the next inhabitants of this house. Gardening has fueled my analogies for life now. I've learned that life, like a garden, gives back in proportion to the efforts we put in. I understand all about pests that eat at your leaves when you're minding your own business, and chipmunks that look darn cute until they dig up the roots of your flower pots. I know sometimes we plant things we never get to see through to fruition. Other times we reap what others sow. We pull a lot of weeds and watch a lot of plants wither under less than ideal conditions. And we always need to stop and admire whatever beauty nature graces us with.
I'm about to leave behind the garden where I grew flowers and nourished talents, hopes and dreams. I'm about to leave the home that grew four different people in four different ways. Leaving both will be hard, but sometimes you have to make a few changes to keep on moving forward.
I'm going to a new house where I can nourish a whole different set of dreams, and a plot of land that is over-run with weeds and mystery plants, but rife with possibilities. When I write my next blog post (in about three weeks time) I'll be at this same desk (probably) but I'll be in a room in a big old Victorian house in a small town, instead of a 70's split level in a medium sized city. Perhaps the new owners of this house will be relaxing here in my ten foot basement, or out weeding my garden as I type. I hope this home is a happy place for them, and that they grow, gain wisdom and make wonderful memories of their own within these walls.
As I say good-bye to everything that reminds me of the past thirteen years, I will temper the tears with reminders to myself. Sometimes you need to give up something you love to find something that you'll eventually love even more. I remind myself that the flowers I've planted will bloom here for someone else next year, and that flowers other hands planted will bloom for me. I remind myself that the best memories made within any walls always get to go with me.
New chapters cannot be written until old chapters end.
Stay tuned for the next chapter of my life.
Wednesday, 13 July 2016
Friday, 1 July 2016
Happy Birthday, Canada! By Sharon Flood Kasenberg
Canada!
I love my country - Canada!
I love it all the time.
To celebrate my country's birth
I'll write a little rhyme.
Ten provinces has Canada
and territories three -
Nunavut is the largest -
Prince Edward Island wee.
The climate varies greatly here
because our land is vast.
Our population's very small
compared to our land mass.
Most people think that Canada
is rather cold I know,
but some places in this land
see very little snow.
Some people think we're rustic folk
who cannot claim big cities.
But anyone so ignorant
a kind Canuck just pities.
We DO have electricity -
I've never seen an igloo.
We don't all say "eh" and "aboot"
or even own a ski doo!
We're rather unassuming and
few of us brag or boast,
but Canada - our chosen land
is land we love the most.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, July 1, 2016
I love Canada and often get frustrated by the misconceptions people in other countries hold about my country. So today I'd like to clear up a few things.
We Like it Here.
Canadians are not American wannabes. Yes, we find some comfort in being located next to a world superpower, but frankly it scares us silly sometimes. We like visiting our neighbours to the south, but we like coming home again too. Canadians aren't as overtly patriotic as Americans, but we have our own kind of national pride. We're peace-loving people who manage to stay that way without keeping a gun in every closet. We're non-confrontational. We're inclusive. And most of us are happy to be exactly where we are, even when the weather sucks.
It Gets Cold Here Sometimes.
It does get cold in most parts of Canada. We have the second largest land mass in the world (second only to Russia), and that means the climate here varies a lot. The coldest temperatures on record are in Yukon Territory, which is located next to Alaska. Our other two territories, Northwest Territories and Nunavut, are both located at the top end of the country and therefore pretty cold a lot of the time. However, Southern British Columbia is downright balmy with temperatures that seldom dip below freezing in the winter time. Where I live, in Southern Ontario, our winters are comparable to those in many American cities. Snow comes to stay in December or January, and is usually gone by the end of March. I don't fight my way through snow year round, and nobody I know owns a dogsled or rides a snowmobile to work.
There is No Quintessential "Canadian Accent".
Canada is a very big country where accents vary a lot. People in our Maritime provinces (New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Newfoundland and Labrador) have a very different vocal intonations than people in Ontario or Alberta or the territories. We have no one "sound" that can be classified as "Canadian". An American from the south would be a bit confused if you decided to try to sound like them by imitating the accent of someone in Boston - they might not even understand you. The same is true here. Many in Quebec speak French as their first language, so their English might have a French accent. In Western provinces people speak a little slower - with a slight drawl, if you will. Here in Ontario I'm told we speak quickly. As a people we do tend to say "eh" (pronounced aye) instead of "huh" like Americans do, but we don't use it in every sentence. Likewise, this notion that we say "about" like "aboot" is goofy. We might not hold the "owww" (like the beginning of ouch) as long as speakers in some states do, but we don't omit the sound of the u altogether. Honestly!
We're a Progressive Country.
I lived in Mississippi and Louisiana for a period of time in my youth, and the most ignorant questions I was ever asked were:
1) Do you have electricity in Canada?
2) Do you have paved roads in Canada?
3) Do you live in an igloo?
My answers were yes, yes, and NO! Canada has big cities and it has big city problems like traffic congestion and pollution. Just like the USA we have rural areas with gravel roads, but pretty well everyone (unless they're old order Mennonite or a "back to the earth' off grid type) has electricity. We're all as dependent on high speed internet as the rest of the first world. We're at the top of the pack as far as education is concerned, and a whole lot of modern inventions can be accredited to Canadians.
We're Unassuming - but...
Canadians don't tend to run around bragging about how awesome we are. We generally keep our national pride under wraps until someone challenges us. We don't really like that people see as lacking in personality and devoid of culture. We're not bland and boring and we're not insular. We care about the world and pay attention to what happens on the international stage, even if we don't seem to be very involved. Remember - our military presence is small - as is our population.
I can't speak for the rest of Canada, but my biggest frustration as a Canadian is that so few people really know much about my country. We only have ten provinces and three territories, but how many non-Canadians could correctly label these thirteen areas on a map? How many Americans could name five Canadian cities? We grew up learning American history - but few Americans know anything about Canada, and I'm fairly certain many couldn't name the year we became a nation. That makes me sad.
As a nation Canada has a lot to offer. We're big, we're bright and we're beautiful. Our terrain is as diverse as the people who populate it. Visit us and you'll see how much there is to love here.
There's no place I'd rather live, and today I will proudly say it:
I love you, Canada! Happy Birthday to you : )
I love my country - Canada!
I love it all the time.
To celebrate my country's birth
I'll write a little rhyme.
Ten provinces has Canada
and territories three -
Nunavut is the largest -
Prince Edward Island wee.
The climate varies greatly here
because our land is vast.
Our population's very small
compared to our land mass.
Most people think that Canada
is rather cold I know,
but some places in this land
see very little snow.
Some people think we're rustic folk
who cannot claim big cities.
But anyone so ignorant
a kind Canuck just pities.
We DO have electricity -
I've never seen an igloo.
We don't all say "eh" and "aboot"
or even own a ski doo!
We're rather unassuming and
few of us brag or boast,
but Canada - our chosen land
is land we love the most.
Sharon Flood Kasenberg, July 1, 2016
I love Canada and often get frustrated by the misconceptions people in other countries hold about my country. So today I'd like to clear up a few things.
We Like it Here.
Canadians are not American wannabes. Yes, we find some comfort in being located next to a world superpower, but frankly it scares us silly sometimes. We like visiting our neighbours to the south, but we like coming home again too. Canadians aren't as overtly patriotic as Americans, but we have our own kind of national pride. We're peace-loving people who manage to stay that way without keeping a gun in every closet. We're non-confrontational. We're inclusive. And most of us are happy to be exactly where we are, even when the weather sucks.
It Gets Cold Here Sometimes.
It does get cold in most parts of Canada. We have the second largest land mass in the world (second only to Russia), and that means the climate here varies a lot. The coldest temperatures on record are in Yukon Territory, which is located next to Alaska. Our other two territories, Northwest Territories and Nunavut, are both located at the top end of the country and therefore pretty cold a lot of the time. However, Southern British Columbia is downright balmy with temperatures that seldom dip below freezing in the winter time. Where I live, in Southern Ontario, our winters are comparable to those in many American cities. Snow comes to stay in December or January, and is usually gone by the end of March. I don't fight my way through snow year round, and nobody I know owns a dogsled or rides a snowmobile to work.
There is No Quintessential "Canadian Accent".
Canada is a very big country where accents vary a lot. People in our Maritime provinces (New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Newfoundland and Labrador) have a very different vocal intonations than people in Ontario or Alberta or the territories. We have no one "sound" that can be classified as "Canadian". An American from the south would be a bit confused if you decided to try to sound like them by imitating the accent of someone in Boston - they might not even understand you. The same is true here. Many in Quebec speak French as their first language, so their English might have a French accent. In Western provinces people speak a little slower - with a slight drawl, if you will. Here in Ontario I'm told we speak quickly. As a people we do tend to say "eh" (pronounced aye) instead of "huh" like Americans do, but we don't use it in every sentence. Likewise, this notion that we say "about" like "aboot" is goofy. We might not hold the "owww" (like the beginning of ouch) as long as speakers in some states do, but we don't omit the sound of the u altogether. Honestly!
We're a Progressive Country.
I lived in Mississippi and Louisiana for a period of time in my youth, and the most ignorant questions I was ever asked were:
1) Do you have electricity in Canada?
2) Do you have paved roads in Canada?
3) Do you live in an igloo?
My answers were yes, yes, and NO! Canada has big cities and it has big city problems like traffic congestion and pollution. Just like the USA we have rural areas with gravel roads, but pretty well everyone (unless they're old order Mennonite or a "back to the earth' off grid type) has electricity. We're all as dependent on high speed internet as the rest of the first world. We're at the top of the pack as far as education is concerned, and a whole lot of modern inventions can be accredited to Canadians.
We're Unassuming - but...
Canadians don't tend to run around bragging about how awesome we are. We generally keep our national pride under wraps until someone challenges us. We don't really like that people see as lacking in personality and devoid of culture. We're not bland and boring and we're not insular. We care about the world and pay attention to what happens on the international stage, even if we don't seem to be very involved. Remember - our military presence is small - as is our population.
I can't speak for the rest of Canada, but my biggest frustration as a Canadian is that so few people really know much about my country. We only have ten provinces and three territories, but how many non-Canadians could correctly label these thirteen areas on a map? How many Americans could name five Canadian cities? We grew up learning American history - but few Americans know anything about Canada, and I'm fairly certain many couldn't name the year we became a nation. That makes me sad.
As a nation Canada has a lot to offer. We're big, we're bright and we're beautiful. Our terrain is as diverse as the people who populate it. Visit us and you'll see how much there is to love here.
There's no place I'd rather live, and today I will proudly say it:
I love you, Canada! Happy Birthday to you : )
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