Does this ever take me back.
One of the songs I sang on the beach...with my guitar....feet dug into the sand....breeze through my long blonde hair - parted in the middle as we did in those days.....psychadelic printed shirt.......boyfriend at the time driving up from Oregon in his little VW beetle........."the smell of maple leaves in fall"....
Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts
Monday, October 4, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
October 1960s......because I HAVE to~!
When I was just a little girl..mid 1960's - I couldn't have been any more than 8 or 9 yrs old - my older sister HAD to learn a poem for school.....and she asked me to help her learn it - reciting it over and over...... in our little bedroom by the light of the Christmas lights hanging from the eaves outside our window.
My older sister and I shared a bedroom in our tiny 1000 sq ft, 3 bedroom house that was heated only by a little fireplace in the living room - and every cold night at bedtime we would hold our blankets up to the fire for a few minutes and then - RUN! to bed - blanket wrapped around us - and that is how we kept warm in those cold wintry nights. Mom and Dad were in one bedroom the two boys in the second and us girls - three of us when my little sis came along - all in the third bedroom.
It was one of those types of evenings, by the light of the Christmas lights outside our window that I memorized this poem......
The Poet was Canadian: Bliss Carmen (1861-1929)
My older sister and I shared a bedroom in our tiny 1000 sq ft, 3 bedroom house that was heated only by a little fireplace in the living room - and every cold night at bedtime we would hold our blankets up to the fire for a few minutes and then - RUN! to bed - blanket wrapped around us - and that is how we kept warm in those cold wintry nights. Mom and Dad were in one bedroom the two boys in the second and us girls - three of us when my little sis came along - all in the third bedroom.
It was one of those types of evenings, by the light of the Christmas lights outside our window that I memorized this poem......
The Poet was Canadian: Bliss Carmen (1861-1929)
The poem: The Vagabond Song (circa 1919)
I am not sure that my sister remembers it....but I certainly do, and recite it - with drama! - EVERY fall since then....usually every October 1st ....and remember.....
I will never forget it....the poem touches my soul....Bliss Carmen has a way with words....
THE VAGABOND SONG
There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood
Touch of manner, hint of mood
And my heart is like the rhyme
With the Yellow and the Purple and the Crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples
Can shake me like the cry
of Bugles going by
And my lonely spirit thrills to see the frosty asters
Like smoke upon the hills...........
There is something in October that sets the gypsy blood astir
We must rise and follow her
when from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.
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| the Leaves outside our house |
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Flashback
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This takes me back to the late 1960s...that era of folk and weirdness. As a teenager I would grab my guitar on the warm summer nights that I was allowed to get away from work at my parent's resort, I would go - barefoot - to the beach and we would sit around the fire and sing those songs of the 1960s that catapulted the world into another era never before experienced. Buffy St. Marie, Poppy Family, Neil Young, Ian Tyson, Joni Mitchell, Gordon Lightfoot, The Guess Who.....all those Great Canadian singers from that time.....it was just a different feel.....
Hello psychadelia and freedom. I didn't experiment with drugs at all. It was all purely innocent. The fun part of those days....but also the dark side too. Self-doubt. Questioning. Withdrawal. Suicidal Thoughts. At the time I never thought for a minute that I would ever escape that era and those feelings and that time. I thought it would be that way forever. Thankfully time changes things....and it really does march on.
In some ways there is a nostalgia, but in some ways a gratefulness that I never have to go through that time again.
And, for a moment, while I listened to Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros.....I tasted the flavor of that time once again.....
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Retrospection
It is quite interesting when one becomes the caregiver of one's parents. Not just the reversal of roles physically speaking - but often in the emotional areas too.
I was explaining to my mother while ironing dad's shirts, how much I hate ironing. My husband does all the necessary ironing in our house. A well pressed shirt is a thing of beauty to him.
Daily ironing of hundreds of pillowslips - among other chores - at our Family Resort, wrested any passion for ironing from me. We were kept cleaning units, doing the laundry, changing towels, cleaning campground washrooms, serving in the restaurant, preparing tables and doing dishes, etc - from sun up to sundown.
My mother replied - Well when I was 13 your Grandma sent all of us (there were 7 of them) out to work - I ironed all the shirts and did the cleaning at Mr and Mrs DeWitts' - and she kept all the money......we didn't get any of it. A titch of bitterness.
It took me a few more passes with the iron to think that one through.
Gently. Mom, how is that different from the work us girls had to do at the Resort, working from sun up to sundown and not getting paid at all? I was amused at the incongruity - It's not ok when it is done to you by your mother, but ok to do it to it when you are the mother.
I don't harbor any regrets or resentments about the way I grew up because if I hadn't worked as hard as I did, and had the experiences I did - I wouldn't have the work ethic I had, and I would not have appreciated Nursing quite as much.
As an LPN I can remember doing six 8 hour shifts in a row/two off and thinking.....oh, is that all? Only 8 hours of work? and I actually get days off and get to do what I want and meet with friends and have fun? AND - I actually get paid PLUS vacation time as well? I was thrilled. Nursing was a snap compared with working for one's own parents.
There are lots of things to appreciate about nursing. It gives you a different perspective on the life around you. You find yourself bossing around people 3 times your age - and they listen to you. Well, most of the time. You find yourself giving advice to friends and neighbors when requested - and they appreciate and give deference to your opinion. Nursing is still one of those respected professions, even though sometimes it may not seem like it in the micro workings of each day on a hospital unit.
People do trust you more than your average Joe. I have had very personal conversations with people in the community - people I hardly know - just because they discover I am a nurse. They reveal the most intimate details - invited or not. They have wanted to show me body parts and scars they would never have revealed otherwise in public. They talk to me about bowel movements, malfunctioning body parts and injuries - because I am a nurse. Last year as I was waiting for a follow-up visit in ER as a patient, a young mother handed me her sick baby to hold while she went to the restroom. You have to wonder sometimes at this blind confidence.
Most of all, at the risk of sounding schmaltzy, I would not have had the self respect and satisfaction with my life, knowing that I have made life a little better for those in my charge. At this point, I do believe I have contributed more than taken away in this world - in a small way - nothing worth headlines - but it makes me feel content - that I have done my best.
My Mother once told me that she wished she had gone into nursing - and that she always wanted to be a Nurse. This surprised me. She always worked hard - and didn't have it easy in the early days. But I know she is proud of what I chose as my profession....and somehow lives a little vicariously through some of the tidbits I throw her way (FOIPA- the US version of HIPAA - taken into consideration).
I hope my Mom finds some peace with her choices in life, as I have with mine.
 |
| My dad and laundry, my leg at ther arrow |
Daily ironing of hundreds of pillowslips - among other chores - at our Family Resort, wrested any passion for ironing from me. We were kept cleaning units, doing the laundry, changing towels, cleaning campground washrooms, serving in the restaurant, preparing tables and doing dishes, etc - from sun up to sundown.
My mother replied - Well when I was 13 your Grandma sent all of us (there were 7 of them) out to work - I ironed all the shirts and did the cleaning at Mr and Mrs DeWitts' - and she kept all the money......we didn't get any of it. A titch of bitterness.
It took me a few more passes with the iron to think that one through.
Gently. Mom, how is that different from the work us girls had to do at the Resort, working from sun up to sundown and not getting paid at all? I was amused at the incongruity - It's not ok when it is done to you by your mother, but ok to do it to it when you are the mother.
I don't harbor any regrets or resentments about the way I grew up because if I hadn't worked as hard as I did, and had the experiences I did - I wouldn't have the work ethic I had, and I would not have appreciated Nursing quite as much.
As an LPN I can remember doing six 8 hour shifts in a row/two off and thinking.....oh, is that all? Only 8 hours of work? and I actually get days off and get to do what I want and meet with friends and have fun? AND - I actually get paid PLUS vacation time as well? I was thrilled. Nursing was a snap compared with working for one's own parents.
There are lots of things to appreciate about nursing. It gives you a different perspective on the life around you. You find yourself bossing around people 3 times your age - and they listen to you. Well, most of the time. You find yourself giving advice to friends and neighbors when requested - and they appreciate and give deference to your opinion. Nursing is still one of those respected professions, even though sometimes it may not seem like it in the micro workings of each day on a hospital unit.
People do trust you more than your average Joe. I have had very personal conversations with people in the community - people I hardly know - just because they discover I am a nurse. They reveal the most intimate details - invited or not. They have wanted to show me body parts and scars they would never have revealed otherwise in public. They talk to me about bowel movements, malfunctioning body parts and injuries - because I am a nurse. Last year as I was waiting for a follow-up visit in ER as a patient, a young mother handed me her sick baby to hold while she went to the restroom. You have to wonder sometimes at this blind confidence.
Most of all, at the risk of sounding schmaltzy, I would not have had the self respect and satisfaction with my life, knowing that I have made life a little better for those in my charge. At this point, I do believe I have contributed more than taken away in this world - in a small way - nothing worth headlines - but it makes me feel content - that I have done my best.
My Mother once told me that she wished she had gone into nursing - and that she always wanted to be a Nurse. This surprised me. She always worked hard - and didn't have it easy in the early days. But I know she is proud of what I chose as my profession....and somehow lives a little vicariously through some of the tidbits I throw her way (FOIPA- the US version of HIPAA - taken into consideration).
I hope my Mom finds some peace with her choices in life, as I have with mine.
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