In Fall of 1999, we celebrated our first American Thanksgiving. We were without a car, in California, in a town that you badly needed a car to go ANYWHERE. A friend of Geoff’s was heading back home to NY for the holiday and offered us the use of his car. Sweet! The world would be our oyster! We figured, hey with a car we could go anywhere for Thanksgiving dinner.

Oh how ignorant we were!

Nothing was open. Nothing. We drove around and it was like the town was deserted. Really? Not even KFC?

Disappointed, we drove home and ate from the food in our cupboards. Which was probably spam and beans, or something else depressing.

I’d like to contrast that sad image with the feast we’ll be having this year: turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing (or dressing, if you will), pecan pie, pumpkin pie, cornbread, rolls, cranberry sauce and my favorite: gravy.

If you have no place to go for Thanksgiving, you are welcome here.

We live in SE Aurora, and our nearest shopping area, Southlands, touts themselves as being a place of community. They even have a Main Street. Whether they think they truly accomplish this community feel, I’m not sure. They certainly have some work to do to achieve that.

Last night we went down there to check out their Christmas tree lighting and parade. They had a decent crowd, and the entertainment was alright. The emcee announced the parade would start in a few minutes, so we scoped out a place to check it out. After a few minutes, we opted to move closer to the start of the parade, and closer to where we parked. Though the parade had allegedly started, we were able to make it right to the beginning of the route, and there was no movement. We stood there for at least 10 minutes before the parade started.

Let me preface that I’m using the word parade loosely. By definition: a series of people or things appearing or being displayed one after. Okay, you had that. But with less than 10 groups in this parade, you would think it could

A: start on time!
and
B: not have such big gaps between the acts.

It was pretty chilly out there, and even though the kids were bundled, they still complained of being cold. Not nearly as much as Mom & Dad complained, but still.

We did not stick around for the tree lighting. With the way they were running their schedule, we figured we were in for more waiting. Next year, if it starts at 6pm, we’ll go at 6:30. It will (hopefully) eliminate the waiting around for things to start.

Eep! I just realized I didn’t blog today, and there are only 4 more hours left. I’m cold and my body aches, so I’m gonna cop out and just give you 3 facts about me.

1. I have never broken a bone. I’ve never been a big milk drinker, so I figure I must be a prime candidate for osteoporosis. But maybe I secretly have strong bones and I’ll dodge that bullet.

2. I always wanted a sister. As a young girl, I had a big doll that I would pretend was my little sister. I would even dress her in some of my clothes. I couldn’t tell you what her name was though. I’m a bad sister.

3. Someday I would like to be in a movie. I’ve been on television (local news), newspapers, and radio (hosted my own show)-but film has eluded me. Since moving away from California, I think my chances have slimmed.

I often look back on the early years of my marriage and wonder-how did we do all that? Where did I have the energy to work multiple jobs, spend time with my husband (going to school) and have the money to go out with our friends to dinner, movies and sporting events?

It almost seems like a different life to me. I had two jobs, I worked at a restaurant, and nights I would work at the sporting arena. We lived in a tiny bachelor suite, the only room that had a door was the bathroom. I worked, and Geoff went to university. Geoff worked summers at the university to pay for his schooling. We saw our families on the weekend, or during the week if my dad was taking us to the grocery store. We had no car, we either walked, took a bus/train or we bummed a ride from our friends.

Now we have a mortgage to pay for, kids to put into school, bills to pay. We hardly ever go out to dinner, movies or sporting events. We have few friends here that we actually hang out with.

I miss that old life. I am not so delusional to think that if we lived back home it would be different. We still would have bills to pay, but maybe we’d have those close friendships again. We’re all married with kids now, though some in our circle of friends are not our friends anymore. People change, they grow apart.

But those days…I look back and think those were the days when we was fab.

I struggle with the fact that I want to be a leader, but without all the responsibilities.

I like to be in charge, but it scares me to be responsible for an end product.

I am frustrated when people don’t work on the same timeline as I do. I get annoyed when people don’t follow through. I hate having to check on people to make sure they are doing their job.

I like to communicate where things are at, and when I don’t get that, it bothers me.

I guess that makes me a bit of a control freak. But being a control freak, I think that makes me a better follower.

I can take an idea and run with it. But rounding up people to help-making sure those people are committed- no thanks.

I don’t think I could run my own company. I might grow to hate the boss.

I love my grandparents, I do. I don’t see them often because we live far away. I speak to them maybe once a year but send letters a few times a year.

When I called my mom on her cell this weekend, she was at my grandparents’ home. “do you want to talk to them?” she asked.

“Uh, okay.”

Conversation was pretty much about weather, and a brief overview of what’s going on with us (The Christmas letter is going out soon, they’ll have all the details).

Grandma closed the conversation with, “well, tell the boys we say hello, even though they don’t know who we are”.

Thanks for the guilt trip Grandma.

It’s true, only Elijah, the almost 5 year old has met them. We haven’t been to Canada in 4.5 years. Meaning there is family who haven’t met Miles. And it is hard for my grandparents (in their eighties) to travel, particularly Grandpa who has been having health issues the last two years. But let’s look at it from my perspective:

Cost of four plane tickets to Edmonton: $2500

That doesn’t include a rental car, meals eaten out, or probable hotel accommodations because who has room for 4 extra people in their house?

Sure I feel badly that my kids don’t know their extended family. But I can’t spend my time feeling guilty about things I have no control over.

I know my Grandma doesn’t mean it maliciously. I imagine getting older, you want to be surrounded by loved ones. To see the future generations and ponder what their futures will hold.

Just think how my brother feels. He lives near them and gets the same talk from Grandma.

We are at the halfway point of NaBloPoMo. Is it getting easier? Heck no!

I have, in the past, been known to give up on things. Not because they are hard, but because by nature, I’m pretty lazy. In high school, I took law. I loved it, I excelled for the whole 3 weeks I took the class. Then I just stopped going.

I can admit it, I am lazy. I can go days without picking my clothes. I could waste a day eating nothing but junk food and watching tv.

Having two small children has forced me to be more responsible than I would normally be. I have other mouths to feed besides mine. I need to set a good example for my little mynah birds.

I will finish this month of blogging, and hopefully be inspiring and inspired enough to continue to blog regularly.

Or not.

I nearly always remember my dreams. It’s normal for me to recall my dreams, even more normal that I’ll spend most of the next day trying to dissect them. You are now at the mercy of hearing about what I dreamt last night.

I dreamt that I was being chased by a bear. And a talking one at that. No matter how I tried to barricade myself in the house, he would get inside. I would flee, run to a near by cabin, but even there, he would find me. He continued to ask me “do you really think these locks are going to keep me out?”

What does it mean? I have no idea, but it has left me feeling unsettled. Here is what the dream means, according to dreammoods.com: To dream that you are being pursued or attacked by a bear, denotes aggression, overwhelming obstacles and competition. You may find yourself in a threatening situation.

Being chased has a whole page devoted to it; Essentially it means I am feeling anxious about something. My reaction to run may be me trying to avoid the issue. I’m supposed to confront the bear. Also the distance between me & the bear is significant. The closer we are, the closer the problem is to me, and not likely to go away.

Hmm, so food for thought. I’ll stew on that the rest of the day.

We won’t discuss the other odd dreams I had this week.

But I ask you, do you remember your dreams? Do you analyze them?

Do you know that I have only been skiing 3 times? None of those times have been on the beautiful mountains of Colorado.

I went skiing once on a bunny hill in high school, and then my first time was on my honeymoon in Jasper. The last time I skied was in 2003 at Mammoth in California.

I’m not adverse to skiing. I enjoy it, but not nearly enough to justify the price of a lift pass. I certainly don’t want to spend the whole day out there. Not when there is a lodge with warmth, and my feet can breathe-not being crammed into awkward boots. Not when there is hot chocolate and hot tubs.

Someday, when the boys are older we’ll aim to do a family ski day. Maybe we better start saving for that now.

It’s with a little sadness I inform you that Gary, our 97 Saturn sedan is moving on to a new life. He was loyal car, joining our family in 2002 after the demise of our first car, Beatrice (may she rest in peace).

Gary proved his worth and while he still has some spunk him, we know he’ll be happy in his new home. We wish him well.

Thanks for the memories Gary, and best of luck!