New Horizons

Questions

I have been reading  a new blog   Brenda @ Its A Beautiful Life recently and although I I have not been able to get all the way through it yet because of overriding previous engagements, I have found much inspiration and insight there that has been helpful to me in my own life.  I guess we all struggle with some kind of problems, whether they be insecurities or 'writing blocks' or what ever else it is that creates those stumbling blocks that make us question ourselves and keep us from  performing at our optimum level. Or perhaps it its just me. Brenda seems to have all her ducks in a row, while I am still trying to round mine up.  (Sometimes those ducks just don't herd well.) Many of my questions are still unanswered.

Is it our age that makes us question ourselves, or it it our bad experiences from the past? Because I honestly cannot say that I have taken such 'beatings'  in the past, but I have to admit that I miss that self-confidence that once came so naturally to me.  I find myself questioning many decisions that would never have worried me in the past.

Perhaps I should just finish reading the rest of Brenda's blog.  Maybe I will find the answers there.

Easter Wishes and Memories

Happy Easter Everyone!

Once again it it is that joyous time of the year when we celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord.  Like Christmas. this is a very special holiday for people of the Christian faith.  In fact, it is the basis of our faith, and, speaking from a Ukrainian background, it is heaped in rich tradition and pageantry.

How well I remember the great anticipation and preparations which started a week before and culminated with that special church service on Easter Sunday. It was the highlight of the year, especially for us kids.  Sometimes I wonder that the walls of that little country church did not explode from the sheer reverberation of the hymns, sung, not by any professional choir, but by sincere and enthusiastic ordinary (mostly uneducated) farm folk whose simple unpretentious faith gave such meaning to their life and lent them such lofty wings on which to soar.

After the  church service and the traditional blessing of the Easter food baskets, we rushed home to partake of the delectable repast. When  that special feast was finished, all the young kids hurried back to gather around that little church to play games and take turns pulling the long thick rope that rang the huge bell up in the bell tower above us.  That bell could be heard for miles and miles through the countryside.

Easter was three days and while the adults celebrated with friends, neighbors and/or relatives, we kids spent those three days in the churchyard in carefree exuberance, singing, playing games and ringing that huge bell.  Our folks always knew that as long as that bell kept peeling, we were safe and happy and in good hands.

We lost so much when we became "MODERN"!

Appreciating Special Talents

Special Musical Talents

I was listening to a music station the other day and I was thrilled to come across a piece with some actual yodelling.   I have not heard yodelling in a long time, though I used to hear it often when I was growing up, back in our little farming community in rural Manitoba.  One of the neighbour boys could have yodelled his way through the Swiss Alps, he was so good at it.  I was always convinced he must have had a special multijointed tongue and very special vocal cords to be able to produce those unique and fascinating lilting musical sounds. I think all of us kids dreamed of being able to yodel like Rudy. I believe each and every one of us tried to imitate him – with absolutely no success at all. 

I recall the time I determined to try my luck at it.  To preserve my dignity and protect my reputation as a sane and at least somewhat intelligent persona, I had the good sense to test my capability in the barnyard with no human ears to pass judgement on my skill or lack thereof. Still, even there, the roosters hid their heads under wings in shame and the turkey gobbler almost killed himself laughing.  (He couldn’t yodel worth a darn either, but he did possess some unique skills which he utilized to do his "gobble, gobble, gobble" so he felt qualified to pass judgement.) 

Suffice it to say, I gave up trying to yodel after that, but I certainly learned to appreciate and admire that scintillating musical talent in others – and I still do to this day!

PROBLEMS!!!!!!

Success ?  Or Failure?
Finally, I am back on line! My 2006 Computer finally gave up the ghost and I have had my son and my granddaughter practically a  living at my place for a whole week trying to resurrect it.  In the end we finally went to a store and I bought a new standalone computer --- and a new web cam as that also died of old age. I'm still not too proficient with the new processes.  This computer tells me that  I need new upgrades for my brain as my old brain is not compatible with my new computer!

 It has been a stressful  month and my eyes are almost in the same shape as my old computer was.  Only problem is I cannot go to a store and buy new eyes!!!! I AM trying to get technical in my old age however. Some stores are actually  really getting rich by capitalizing on my handicap.

In addition to my new computer, I now have a 50 inch TV in my living room, complete with an HDMI cable that lets me hook up my 2-year old laptop to it so I can  read what my laptop computer is telling me by simply reading the huge print on my 50 inch TV screen. As far as the standalone computer, well there is always the ZOOM  IN Feature I  can access on my 26 inch monitor.  Oh the thrills of old age!!!

 Now if I can only upgrade my brain, I may actually get somewhere.  In the meantime. thanks for your patience,  folks!  It's nice to be back again.  If you don't hear from me again, just assume that my hard drive has crashed too.  But wish me luck anyway!

Opportunities Lost

Recording Precious  Memories

I was going through my collection of video tapes the other day and I came across a treasure that becomes more precious with each passing year.  It's an amateur movie I had "commissioned"  of a casual "Family Reunion" of relatives and family back in July of 1996.  It was an impromptu reunion.  My sisters Nellie and Helen and my brother John from  Ontario, had come to visit me  and my brother Mike in Manitoba so we had invited cousins, aunts, and uncles from the surrounding area to join us for a dinner and get-together.

On a stroke of  inspiration, I had asked a friend, who owned a movie camera, to film the event.  He was not a professional photographer, nor did he have the best equipment on the market.  And we hardly had a decent setup for the event.  Our mobile home did not provide enough room for a huge gathering nor did it offer the conveniences for it, but it had a roofed-in deck twelve by twenty feet. There, we set up a couple of long tables and chairs that we had borrowed from the parish hall. Our guests squeezed in as best they could on that crowded deck around those tables piled high with festive food. George, our video man, set up his camera on a tripod in the carport at the far end of deck and set it rolling.  He did not have much choice of where to film from, but he did the best he could with the equipment he had and with the limited space and setup available to him.

We have about  four hours of video of that glorious afternoon.  There are only  a few of us left of that big group of thirty-five-plus that laughed and enjoyed that wonderful afternoon of family camaraderie.  Watching that tape now tears at our heartstrings to watch the antics of that carefree group on that most memorable day.  Little did we know that that silly amateurish movie would immortalize those very dear and unforgettable folks for very appreciative generations for years to come.  That tape was made in VHS. It has now been copied onto a CD.  Already many of those people are gone but their voices and their laughter will remain with us, and our descendants, forever!

Those get-togethers were so precious.  Many of them were at my place.  Why had we not thought of taping them all? Or at least, more of them!  What precious opportunities we missed!
 

Fond Memories

Memories of Easters Past
We spent a quiet Easter this year, doing nothing spectacular, just enjoying the the familiar serenity of family and home surroundings.  But as I sat here reminiscing tonight and browsing through my travel photo albums, memory took me back to some exciting  Easters of days gone by. One exceptionally memorable Easter season back in the early 1990's stood out in particular. Life held incredible and dramatic adventures back in those youthful years.   I look back on those days with awe and wonder and I marvel that I should have been so fortunate to have experienced so much.

My girlfriend and I had booked a month long vacation in Australia and New Zealand that spring.  We left San Francisco on  Saturday evening before Easter Sunday, making a brief stop in Honolulu and arrived in Auckland, New Zealand on Monday morning.  We lost Easter Sunday somewhere over the equator, I guess.  (Coming back we gained a day, arriving in Frisco, hours before we left Auckland!!!!  It was really weird.)

I was the adventuresome type and when we came to Ayers Rock in Central Australia, I was determined to "Climb the Rock"! Now I am "adventuresome", not "foolhardy"!  It's a mile high very steep climb to the top of Ayers Rock.
BUT I DID CLIMB TO THE TOP ----THE TOP OF CHICKEN ROCK!!!!  
(That's me waving  up there near the top of that second picture.  (I did not wish to show you just how far from the top this lowly section really was.)  Suffice it to say , I climbed to the TOP of something!!!!

Second Chance

Second Chance

Today is the Ukrainian New Year's Day!.  Today is the first day of my  new year!.  I didn't finish the last year like I would have wished.  I didn't start January 1st, 2013, off right. But being Ukrainian, I have a second chance.  Ukrainians have that option with Christmas and with New Year's.  That is why we stick so hard to our traditions!  That is why we are proud to be Ukrainian!?!   Never mind, I know what you are thinking, and I am not disagreeing with you.  It is just that, at the moment, this scheme happens to fit my purpose, so bear with me!  Second chances are few and far between and I am not letting this one get away. I want a  chance to start over, and I will risk scorn and ridicule to get it.   This is New Year's  Day so to all you Ukrainians and Ukrainian wannabees out  there Happy New Year!
This our chance to start over.  Let's not blow it!

Ahh!!!! Wild Mushrooms!!!!

T'is the Season

I had a  call from a friend yesterday and she told me that I was missing out on a very important pastime that used to be a very important part of our life when I lived in Dauphin.    This spring ritual was mushroom picking - morels - to be exact.  Four of us  used to take off into the bush areas of the countryside and pick these special delicacies that Mother Nature provided so abundantly just for the picking.  Granted, some areas also yielded woodticks in almost disgusting abundance as well but we warded them off by wearing clothing that repelled them and the more stubborn ones, we simply  killed off.  Those mushroom expeditions  were worth any inconvenience,  any sacrifice to us!  What a delicious treat  these were, served up in a sauce of sauteed onions in rich cream, (preferably straight off the farm).  Oh the pleasures of country life.  Nothing can match it!!!! 

                                   

Faraway Roots

A Nostalgic Glance At My Past


This picture surprised us from a parchment placemat in a Toronto restaurant about 10 or 15 years ago.  My sisters and I had stopped in for a coffee and were astonished to see our picture staring up at us.  The owner had picked a random picture out of the Ethelbert Homecoming book and it happened to be ours.  What a wonderful and exciting surprise that was!  Inspired by the nostalgia that picture invoked, I came home and I penned this poem and called it:

                          Faraway Roots

A city far away

Strange and unfamiliar

In a restaurant, simple, homey

I sit staring, unbelieving

At a placement - unique, yet unpretentious

“Just a bit of nostalgia” they called it

“True Canadiana” they said

Just random photos of bygone days

Reproduced and printed

On white parchment with scalloped edges

Decorated with antique scrolled designs.

But the picture on that parchment is not insignificant

The people in that snapshot are not nameless

Where did it come from?

How did it get here?

This picture of my old home

The house with the whitewashed walls

And the double window that faced the morning sun.

My brother and I

Standing just knee high

To our older grown up sisters, brother

Solemnly posing on the front steps.

Those steps that my father built

From wood that stood behind the old shed.

And mother coming towards us

Along the picketed flower bed

With a sidewise glance at the photographer.

I gaze in awe at my past

Looking back at me through years of time

And wonder at this marvel

Prompted by a stranger unaware.

Not insignificant, this picture

It’s me, my roots, my childhood home!

My early youth,

So long forgotten

By a stranger unknowingly resurrected.

A house no one considered important

A family no one recognized but me

This home looking back at me

From this picture in a stranger’s unlikely abode

In this faraway place of “now”.

Looking Back

A Backward Glance

 Over the years, there have been many changes that "modern folks" just would have problems relating to.  Only us elders can conjure up these very vivid images.   Among the first are our mores.  We used to be so prim and proper, it used to make even us sick!  Thank heavens, some of these traditions have relaxed but in some instances, we have gone practically to the opposite end of the spectrum.  Nowadays, no one even thinks "Easter Bonnet" anymore.  We seldom wear hats and gloves to church now - not even the ladies, let alone little kids like in the old days.  Now, with some folks, it's more likely to be shorts, tight little miniskirts and halter tops.  And grubby sneakers instead of those shiny shoes that some conscientious family member spent all of Saturday polishing. As far as other aspects of "propriety", well, let's just leave that alone, okay?  

Moving on, our mode of travel has advanced since the horse and buggy days.  We have run the gammit from Model A's and "coupe" cars with "rumble" seats to "club cabs" and big gas-guzzling, road-hugging Lincolns.  Now we're down to tiny go-cars and mini vans.  The gas guzzlers of today are the super-efficient homes-on-wheels that roam the paved highways from one end of the continent to the other like giant vagabonds, imprinting us with clouds of putrid gases as they rumble on by.  We're not house bound anymore either.  For the sake of a musical concert, we drive five hundred miles and back as casually as we once went around the block.  Instead of inviting the neighbours to ride with us, like we would have done in the old days, we are often back before they even realize we were gone.  Even our bicycles have graduated.  We don't ride just ordinary bikes anymore - we have "ten-speeds", “mountain bikes” and what-nots.  Once a coveted dream for ordinary people, the Harley Davidson and its clones now strike a chord of fear and suspicion in our hearts as they thunder down the highway, especially if there are more than two in the group.

Farmers, too, have come a long way.  Instead of the six-horse-drawn equipment, farmers now drive multi-hundred-horsepower tractors and other self-propelled monsters with cabs equipped with quadraphonic radios, earphone head sets, cell phones and portable little gizmos that provide you with TV, voice mail, email, the world wide web and heaven only knows what else, all at a touch of a tiny button.  You no longer have to come home from the field to find out that the Yankees lost the World Series or some lunar space shuttle is gyrating out of control in the great beyond. 

We used to walk for miles to visit neighbours, friends or relatives and we visited them often.  Extended family was important and everyone knew even distant aunts, uncles, and cousins.  And we always knew where to find them.  No address needed.  They lived two miles east of the big barn, one mile north and half a mile up the crooked road that led up that steep hill.  People came unexpectedly, informally.  It was a general "Ya'll come" invitation that extended to family and friends alike.  Now we drive fast cars, communicate via email or IM messages or cell phone called “blackberry” or something else just as exotic, and, if it were not for weddings and funerals, we would never meet our relatives and friends.  But thanks to the web cam, I-phones and other hi-tech thingamajigs, we not only can talk to them, we can even see them while we chat, no matter where they are, across the street or across the ocean!  No hand-written letters with four-cent stamps. And no long distance fees either no matter when or how long you talk!  Like Wow!  Our ancestors would die again if they saw that.

Used to be when company came, we went to the hen house, interrupted some poor unsuspecting chicken, and after a guillotine process that would totally phase the modern housewife, there was a full course meal on the table.  And that was after starting a fire in the old wood stove from freshly slivered kindling!  There always seemed to be time for everything.  Nowadays, all too often it's Kraft's macaroni and cheese instead of perogies and sour cream.  Truth is, ever since they discovered that the earth rotates around the sun, instead of the other way around, our earth has been gaining momentum and picking up speed and we just adjust our clocks accordingly.  No wonder we can never catch up to ourselves! 

Our modern technology of freezers and microwave ovens just cannot begin to provide those scrumptious meals that exploded from old clay bake ovens and cast iron wood stoves.  We don't appreciate freezers enough, but to many of us, the mere mention of the words "salt pork" is enough to make our jowls cringe.  And those school lunches with cranberry jam.  Day after day, after day - cranberry jam sandwiches.  When we got desperate for a change, we mixed in left-over mashed potatoes and convinced ourselves we were getting a treat.  Now the kids get hot soup, Chicken Cordon Bleu and tapioca pudding and they think they are hard done by.

Modern technology has affected our modes of entertainment as well.  Before the advent of TV's, Nintendo's, VCR's, CD‘s, DVD’s and MP or IP-things, or other doohickies that attach themselves to our ears and entertain us as we walk, work or drive, people used to make their own music.  Every household had at least one member that played one, or several musical instruments: piano, organ, fiddle, guitar, banjo, ukulele, mandolin, dulcimers, banduras or that tiny little mouth harp they called a "drimba" that had that special twang that is probably unequalled in the music world.  And people sang!  They knew the words by heart - hundreds of songs, lyrics and beautiful melodic arias spewing forth spontaneously without the aid of song sheets - a cappella or accompanied.  Many even yodelled!  And if you think that was easy, you try it.  Getting music from behind a tongue that flapped in your mouth like sheet in the wind could not be an easy task.  It truly was a talent and some folks developed it into a fine art.  Even the Swiss would be hard pressed to equal the strains of Rudy's "Yodel-el-el-el-el-a-e-oh" when I was growing up. 

And Christmas was never complete without the carollers.  With hoarfrost on their eyebrows and icicles on their moustaches, they came in - singing their hearts out, eagerly helping themselves to the mountains of festive food and fountains of special spirits that were always home made and home brewed..  Now our carols are piped at us at the malls from the day after Halloween and by Christmas, we are too  tired of them to carol – or care - anymore.  And chipmunks, reindeer and even Santa just don’t seem to have the same affect that Baby Jesus had in our youth.

Laundry day is not what it used to be either.  We don't use Grandma's home-made lye soap anymore and there is no more Oxydol that "transcends" all other whites.  We don't get blisters from scrubbing linens on washboards or worse yet from wringing out men's denim overalls.  What a blessing our modern hot water taps and automatic washers are!  And what woman in her right mind was sorry to see the demise of the "sad iron"?  Even our modern irons with fingertip heat control, hissing steam and spewing spray are fast fading into the archives of history with the new "wash and wear" fabrics, some of which look like Bossy the cow mistook them for cud!  And let’s not forget clothes dryers either.  Remember those rows of solid, white, fleece-lined men's underwear waving in the winter gale like petrified white skeletons suspended from the clothes line?  After a couple of days, we took pity on the silly things and gingerly manoeuvred the monsters through cold-blasting gaping doorways to stack them over the couch until Jack Frost released his grip on the ghostly figures and let them wilt into manageable masses.  What a Godsend our dryers are now and how did we ever even exist without Hydro???

And how about the “less is more” and that Persian kitten soft bathroom tissue?  Maybe Eaton’s catalogues needed to perish in order for us to graduate to some of these modern comforts.  Just remembering those midnight dashes to the outhouse in forty below weather sends shivers up the spine.  No cushioned seats in those days either!  Skin had to be tough to withstand such drastic deviations in temperature.  No need for Ex-lax in those days.  No body dared to be that frivolous.

We have eliminated some of the old annoyances from the old days too, (though some may argue that we have replaced them with newer and bigger ones).  At any rate, we don’t seem to have the flies like we used to have.  Remember those awful tacky brown curly strips we used to hang from the ceilings to trap the pests?  Who can forget getting their hair tangled into the sticky mess of glue and dead (or sometimes frantically buzzing live) flies?  Just one such blunder and you never, ever again, got near enough to repeat the experience - even in the dark!  Our modern air pollution must have had at least one commendable effect. Wish it had the same effect on mosquitoes. 

There are many positive aspects to our lives now, but we look back fondly at those primitive beginnings from whence we came.  We cherish "Yesterday" because it makes us remember and remembering makes us appreciate "Today"!