Snow Days of Yesteryear

Christine and me

The picture above shows quintessential 1970s winter. My little sister and I are bundled with multiple layers of (largely inefficient) winter garb. This was long before Thinsulate; we were warmed by layers of wool and nylon.

The More the Merrier

My family, on our front lawn, circa 1979.

I grew up with four brothers and two sisters. These are full siblings, no blended families, no multiples, and, no, we weren't Catholic or part of the "quiverful" movement (which didn't even exist back then).

My parents were just . . . very productive. (Yay for that work ethic!)

Growing up as the second-youngest in a big family certainly has its pluses and minuses. Here are just a few.

Tuesday Coffee Chat: When I was so much younger than today.

Me with one of my brothers (Doug? Harvey?) in 1963

One of the blogs I follow, Time Out for Mom, hosts a Tuesday Coffee Chat which invites other bloggers to write on a specific theme. I decided to join the fun today. The prompt was: If you could be any age again, for one week, what age would you be? My choice would be toddler, and here's why.

Nananeye's Muffled Pup - UPDATED

Today's post is actually a recipe for a meat pie, but it requires a bit of a preamble. It is from back in the days when Steve and I were just starting out. Now for the explanation of the recipe's name:

Where I'm From

Top: Christine
Middle: Wynn Anne, Patricia
Bottom: Andrew, Stewart, Douglas, Harvey

This was originally posted in December 2011, but I was reminiscing and thought I'd share it again.

I am from chenille bedspreads, from Barbie dolls and banana-seat bicycles.

I am from seven children crammed into a back-split, semi-detached house in suburbia with pear trees growing along the back fence and open space beyond; an open-concept school at one end of the street and horses out to pasture at the other.

How I Spent My (Extremely Awkward) Summer Vacation

During the summer between grade seven and grade eight, my friend "Margaret" invited, nay begged me to go to her family's cottage for a couple of weeks with her, her mother (Alice), and their tenant (Jack), but without her father.

Jack, as it happened, was Alice's lover as well. Margaret told me that as an "only child" she dreaded being up at the cottage with the two fornicators. I was to be the distraction.

Grow where you're planted.

Grow where you are planted.

When I was a newlywed military wife, someone told me that it was important to "grow where you're planted." At the time, I thought, "Well, duh," but as years -- and moves -- came and went, I learned it wasn't as easy as all that. And I've known military spouses who've never stopped yearning to get back to that one golden posting . . .

Another Parking Flashback

Finally remembered where I parked the car.

You know, it's pretty remarkable that I do not have anxiety attacks whenever I leave my car in a parking lot. I've written about at least one of my experiences in a parking garage. Oh, yeah, and then there was the time I ripped off the side mirror. And those other times. Here's another tale.

Lost and Found

Windblown meadow with trashcan lid

How to lose -- and find -- your iPhone.

Boggles the Mind

Boggle

One of the great gifts my father left to his children was a love of words and, especially, wordplay. To this day, our family enjoys rounds of what I call competitive punning when we get together.

Dad was a crossword fanatic. And he twisted words to such an extent that understanding him really tested the limits of the redundancy of English, purposely using malapropisms, like saying "I'm going to renew my newspaper prescription." I do the same thing, and Stephen has caught my habit.

But there was one word game that was just between my dad and me: Boggle.

Five Places: Barrie Street

493 Barrie Street, Kingston, Ontario

University students have an astonishing propensity for moving. I lived in a different house or apartment every year that I attended Queen's University in Kingston. But the most memorable house was on Barrie Street.

Five Places: Bravo Zulu

The Bravo Zulu, circa 1981

The first time I met Steve, was on his sailboat, the Bravo Zulu*, a 20-foot sloop. On his meagre officer-cadet salary, he had managed to save enough shekels to buy his own sailboat. Pretty impressive way to meet women, no?

Five Places: My Mother's Childhood Home

My mother (right) with her mother, my oldest brother, Stewart, and her father
at the Haileybury home. This lawn/meadow is where they pastured their milk cow during the Great Depression.

How many people get the chance to live, even for a short period of time, in their parent's childhood home? I don't think many of my friends have done so, but I -- along with my father and a few of my siblings (Patricia, Harvey, Andrew, and Christine) -- spent a whole summer living in the home where my mother grew up, in Haileybury, Ontario.

Five Places: My Childhood Home

My siblings and I form a pyramid in front of our childhood home.
Top: Christine
Middle: Wynn Anne, Patricia
Bottom: Andrew, Stewart, Douglas, Harvey

My friend Bronwyn, of I, MayB, is posting a series based on the question:

If you had to describe your life in five places, which sites would you choose and why?

I've so enjoyed her posts that I've decided to do my own series and I'm going to start with the home I grew up in, in Burlington, Ontario.

Hijinks

Do you ever look back on things you did when you were young and just . . . wonder, what was I thinking? Every spring, when I see the tulips burst forth in all their glory, the same thing happens to me.

You'll shoot your eye out!

My #100happydays #stillhappy picture for Monday was a snap of this delicious caramel candy.

Post from the Past: A Time to Cry and a Time to Laugh

This post was originally published in October 2011, but it demonstrates a skill of which I am reasonably proud. Also, it's useful. Read on. 

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I cry fairly readily. And sometimes, it's just not the thing. Fortunately for me, Steve taught me that you can sing Amazing Grace to the tune of the Gilligan's Island theme song. Seriously! And the really cool thing about THAT is that you can use it to stop crying.

I win!

Did you know that Weight Watchers gives you little stickers or magnets when you reach milestones for weight loss? Well, they used to anyway.

And I was ridiculously proud of that 10% ribbon. I stuck it on my cubicle wall and hoped people would notice because, dayumm!, I was proud of that. It took hard work (and forgoing of Tiramisu) and had results that might not have been perceptible to those who worked with me, so a little sticker/magnet was great.

Isn't that the way with life? We just want a little recognition for our efforts.

Well, let me tell you, folks, I done been RECOGNIZED! A friend (whom I've only met once and with whom I've never really had a long conversation, so maybe "friend" is stretching it, but I feel like, if we lived in the same province, we would be besties) has nominated me for a pair of blogger awards.


Bronwyn, the witty, irreverent author of I, MayB, nominated me, and I am honoured.

However, she had the audacity to attach strings to this momentous award: I have to (a) post 11 things about myself and (b) nominate three other bloggers. It's sort of like a chain-mail disguised as an honor. (Do you remember those things?)

But I'm still tickled, so here I go: 11 Things You Didn't Know about Me.

Kingston Celebrity Tour

We took a quick visit to Kingston, this weekend. We don't always revisit our former homes, but this time, we did. Please join us.

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Welcome aboard, folks, and thanks for joining us on the Kingston Celebrity Tour featuring "Places of Importance to Steve and Wynn Anne."

Famous for their four remarkable offspring and stellar careers, this power couple had its beginnings in humble Kingston. Today, we will show you just a few of the landmarks on their early journey.

Let's start with the house where they first met.

While studying English Literature, Wynn Anne shared this row-house with three women: Heather, Stephanie, and Debbie. All of them were emotionally unstable and involved in various toxic relationships. Lest you think that the camera has distorted the building, let me assure you that, no, it is indeed as decrepit as it appears. It is -- and was -- sinking.

Wynn Anne's room was approximately the size of a modern pantry; her current office is much larger than that bedroom. It accommodated: her twin bed, a trunk, and two baskets, which she used in place of a dresser. (In fact, if we had a picture of that time, you would wonder why she even had the baskets as she seemed to use the floor as her clothes hamper. Her four remarkable children and stellar career were very far in her future.)

I'll pass around a picture we have unearthed of Wynn Anne from that period. You'll note she's sporting a mullet - a hairstyle now worn predominantly by rednecks. There have been many theories as to why Steve chose Wynn Anne over her arguably more attractive roommates. Steve is on record as saying she was "cute." We can only conclude that he saw something that was not captured in this picture.

It was mere days after moving into this house that Wynn Anne met Stephen. Heather (remember? The roommate?) had been invited to join Stephen and his friend Mike on Stephen's sailboat. (Stephen owned his own sailboat before he even turned 21 - you could tell great things were in store for him!)

This is where Steve and Wynn Anne discovered the joys of home-made chocolate-chip cookies and red wine. This is where Wynn Anne leapt over bicycles to greet Steve after his trip to Israel.

They also discovered the questionable joys of absentee slumlords, inebriated hooligans (new game: guess how long it takes for the police to arrive in a crack neighbourhood?), and cars in flames in the middle of the night.

Not surprisingly, at the end of that academic year, Wynn Anne moved to this address, with Stephanie (the door wasn't nearly this pretty back then):

From street level, all it is is a door. But it was right on Princess, in the heart of Kingston's bustling downtown strip. It also boasted a skylight in the bathroom and three humongous bedrooms. Back in those days, there were such attractions as the Italian Pastry Shop, the Falafel House, and Top Dog all close by.

Some things, however, have not changed. If you come here at night, you will notice the odd homeless fellow curled in the doorway. "Odd" in this case means actually quite bizarre; Kingston has a rather famous psychiatric hospital and more than its share of prisons.

By this time, the two had fallen in love, so Wynn Anne spent a good deal of time at Steve's "apartment." (It was a room, really. Just a lean-to.)

And we're in luck! Here's Steve himself to show us his room! Please try not to startle him.

It was in that room, in August 1983, that Stephen proposed to Wynn Anne, on bended knee. History shows that she accepted.

And this, up ahead on your left is the apartment Steve and Wynn Anne shared with Heather. It was three long flights up the stairs. Steve carried his bike up every night and hung it over the bed. [Insert obligatory "well hung" joke here.]

The apartment was just a block from the market and only two blocks from Books for Children, where Wynn Anne worked part time while studying.

At the time, there was a milliner's shop in the same building, and that is where Wynn Anne purchased the supplies to make her bridal veil and her bridesmaid's headdresses. As you can see in the reflection, it is right across the street from Cooke's Fine Foods and Coffee, another (less violent) Kingston institution. We'll pause here so you can go get some refreshment.

Everybody back? Good then. Let's head over to Union Street.

Up ahead on the right you will see St. James Anglican Church, where Father Bob Brow married them on August 11, 1984.

Many followers of Steve and Wynn Anne (they call themselves SteveandNanians), are not aware that this was actually a second ceremony and the couple were already married. The first, and legally binding, ceremony took place on April 28, 1984, in Burlington, Ontario and was officiated by Wynn Anne's Uncle Doug.

And not far from here, we have Kingston General Hospital, where, twelve years into their marriage, their eldest son, Peter John Francis Sibbald, was born on June 3, 1996.

As our final stop on this tour, we have here, on your right, the first home Steve and Wynn Anne ever purchased.

Bought in 1989, when interest rates were high (12%), they lived here with their daughter Katharine Elizabeth (and eventually, Peter), while Wynn Anne completed her B.Ed. and Steve completed his Masters in Computer Engineering.

As proud homeowners, they worked hard on this house, completely renovating the kitchen (their first of many kitchen renovations), removing dated panelling, and putting in new carpets and a renovated bathroom.

Sadly, the current owners have undone (or failed to maintain) much of the work Steve put into the exterior. Here is an illustration of what it might have looked like back then.

A pretty white fence and gate, a tiny herb garden, and NO WEEDS in the driveway.

That concludes our tour, folks. We hope you enjoyed it. Tips, of course, are most welcome.

Another Beautiful Bride

My friend, K.B., whom I've mentioned previously.

That is a picture of my high-school best friend, K.B

[Not that I really have another best friend now. I mean, I have friends, but . . . I wonder if the whole "best friend" thing kind of loses its currency as we get older. Or has my continual migration from one city, province, or country to another made that difficult for me? Oh, this line of thinking is almost too sad to continue.]

K.B. is short for [redacted], which NO ONE calls her. Except, perhaps, her dad and sister. Back in high school, we often called her Killer Bunny, after the rabbit from Monty Python and the Holy Grail (though she was nothing like that evil rodent).


K.B. and I knew each other during those blistering years of high school when we feel both immortal and rawly vulnerable. She showed up in my Functions & Relations class with an enthusiasm for Math that dumbfounded me. It was, I learned, an enthusiasm for knowledge - she was, and is, eager to learn anything about anything. She's also someone who "waves her freak flag" with gusto.

Over the ensuing couple of years, we became almost inseparable. I slept over at her house about half the time, avoiding the emotional difficulties at my home. Meanwhile, her family was suffering the excruciating loss of her brother, Cullen (or "Cully"), who died too young of Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia, and her mother who died more slowly of Parkinson's Disease.

Can you even imagine the pain?

And yet, she, indeed her entire family, welcomed me, embraced me. I had a permanent seat at their dinner table. K.B. and I shared clothes like sisters (though that blue blouse she's wearing in that picture looked WORLDS better on her than it ever did on me). Cully called me from the hospital where he lay dying. I was with the family as they buried their beloved mother. To this day, I wish I had known both Cully and Mrs. Sterling before they were ill.

K.B. and I have lived geographically separate lives, but have stayed in touch, especially with the gift of e-mail and social media. (Many scoff at the "fake" nature of social-media relationships, but I have found that social media has served to strengthen many friendships and has, conversely, made me ponder why I ever considered so-and-so a friend at all.)

Well, last weekend, I had the great joy of attending K.B.'s wedding to Chris. It is a second marriage for each of them, so they went into it with eyes wide open and hearts grateful for this surprise of love. I wish I'd been able to get to know Chris better.

But I do know that they fit. In the quirky, accepting, supportive ways that matter.

Enough. Here are some pictures I took before and during their wedding and reception.

This was taken at the unofficial rehearsal dinner.
What started out as dinner for three turned into dinner for five, then dinner for six
 then . . . aw, heck. Let's just all get together. 

The new blended family.
That's Mr. Sterling at the "head" of the table. K.B.'s sister is to his right (our left).
(I won't name anyone else as I do not have their permission, but please feel free to download and use your pictures.)

K.B.'s daughter gave the couple a STAR! In Ursa Major! That's the kind of mother K.B. is.

The wedding day dawned sunny and warm.

The wedding palette.

K.B. is not a fussy, girly-girl, but she did allow for some pampering on this occasion.

The flowers were so, so beautiful.

The bride and her maids laughing at a YouTube video while getting ready.

She came down the aisle and made her vows barefoot.
Because, if you know anything about K.B., you know that you ought to expect the unexpected.
(Chris claims he absolutely did not notice.)

There was a fair bit of laughter at this ceremony, but it was absolutely earnest as well.

Yes, she loves him.

Yes, yes indeed she does.

Another little bit of the unexpected.

There are many more pictures, of course, but I will share them with K.B. and Chris, who are still on their honeymoon before I post them anywhere.

I'm so glad we are friends. I'm so glad I was there - and that K.B. and her family were there for me.