Some things about me . . . .

1. A picture of me
2. the person(s) you have been closest with the longest - my sisters
3. my favorite show - Then - M.A.S.H, now 60 Minutes
4.My favourite night - and day, June 13, 1987, the day i married my soul mate
5. My favorite memory - the birth of my children
6. A person I'd love to trade places with for a day - Oprah - so i could give things to people that need them
7. My most treasured item - my family, and my camera
8. what makes laugh - Two and a half men, and a good, clean practical joke
9. the person who has gotten me through the most - Dean and Cathy
10. who do i do the most crazy things with - my spirtual ladies
1.1 Something I hate -whiners and complainers - if you don't like it, get involved and change it.
12. Something I love - my family and friends - oh and my camera
13. My favorite band or artist - Then, David Bowie, now Emimen and Elton John
14. someone I could never imagine your life without - my family
15. something I want to do before I die - take my family to England to where i lived
16. someone who inspires me - my little sister -
17. something that has made a huge impact on my life recently - the spiritual women - and my camera :)
18 my biggest insecurity - wanting my kids to succeed in whatever they love to do
19. my greatest achievement - Riders Ready BMX program
20. somewhere I'd love to travel - across Europe on a motorcycle - with my camera
21. something I wish I could forget - anytime i have spoken before thinking and hurt someones feelings, without meaning too. Those i meant to piss off deserved it :)
22. something I wish I were better at - sticking to a new years resolution
23 My favorite books - Pillars of the Earth, Ken Follet and Kane and Abel by Jeffrey Archer
24 something I wish I could change - the day that i wish i could turn back time for - God Bless You Timmy
25 -something I'm afraid of - drowning and fire
29 - someone that can always make me smile - my Krazy Krew

There you go, more about me that you probably ever wanted, or needed, to know.

Paying to graduate . . . . .

Ok, i don't get it. i pay for him to go to school, pay for uniform, pay for gym clothes, pay for books, pay for lunches, pay for activities - all the money going into the school pot. The HDCSB has more money that we will ever know, and now they are charging me $75 in order for him to go to his own graduation ceremony - this pisses me off royally.

How the hell can they charge $75? for the gowns you say, or the funky hat - well let that be a choice - maybe he doesnt want to wear a gown, or a hat, maybe he just wants to go and pick up his diploma - $75 is a rip off. And for that you only get 2 tickets in an un-airconditioned gym.

Yes i am mad, but i will pay it . . why . . . because he is my son and i was there for Kyles grad and I will be there for his. I cant believe my baby will be done high school at age 17! And he will only do this once. But i think they have you by the short and curlies on this one - do i really have a choice?

My big sister . . . .

So tomorrow, my big sister has a big birthday, and this is what i have always wanted to say to her, or about her.

I have two sisters, and both of them inspire me every day. I will write a blog for Linzi on her birthday, but today is Debbies day.

What does she mean to me? she means comfort, strength, laughter, safety and unconditional acceptance.

She was 5 years old when i was born, she was dark hair, i was blonde, she was a 'ballet dancer' LOL i was a football player, she was a typical teenager, i was a 'good girl'; she dated a guy that looked like David Bowie, and I had David Bowie plastered all over my bedroom wall; she was in love with David Cassidy i was in love with Pat Jennings (Tottenham football goalie); she was a free spirit, i tried to behave.

When we left for Canada in 1980, Debs was set in her life and decided to stay in England. That was the hardest part of leaving, even though I had not seen a lot of her in the late 1970s, i still loved her deeply. She had travelled the world, had lived in India and was settling down. Saying goodbye to her was so hard, and when i look back at it today, was probably a pivotal turning point in my life. Even though she had a different life than us, was so independent and ready to move forward, i felt a part of me was left behind on English soil.

As we have grown older, and even though we live thousands of miles apart, i know that no matter what she is always there for me. Both my sisters are that way. My mum had a tough time raising us all alone - but she did something right, as the bond we have as sisters can never be broken, even when we are in 2 different countries. She raised 3 girls that work hard, party hard, respect others and care about each other very much.

Debs is beautiful - she is a stunning woman with a beautiful daughter, Hannah Jane, and now a beautiful granddaughter, Scarlett Mae. She lights up a room when she enters it; her laughter is contagious; her sense of humour wicked! The best memories are when us 3 girls tease mum - and the tears are rolling down our face, our sides are aching, we have, on occassion peed our pants laughing so hard. They are the moments that i so cherish! they are so important to me, each time i recall one, I smile. And there is no value you can put on that.

she has her own business, owns a beautiful home in Warwickshire, still has the same friends she had in high school, and travels the world. When she travels the world, she still gives - to the impoverished and the down trodden - she has a huge heart.

So to my big sister Deb - I love you, I miss you, I respect and admire you. I wish every day that you lived closer, so we could giggle over tea - tease mum non stop, and just talk about our day.

I am honoured to be your little sister . . . . . i love you!

How I re-energize, empower and grow . . . .

I empower myself when i surround myself with women with energy, spirituality, laughter, love, strength, support and unwavering acceptance.

I am so lucky to have had some women come into my life - some in the last few months, some in the last year, and some my whole life, who have just added to my every day existence.

I will not name them, but will tell you about each one. I dont wish to embarrass anyone. No particular order . . . . . prize for who guesses them all in order lol.

Lady #1, Well, this one I have known the longest - her inner strength, her ability to deal with assholes exes, job issues and a child with special needs - and 2 dumbass dogs - i guess that narrows it down a bit. She is the first person to offer the last penny in her bank account, the first to drive to you in an emergency, the first to tell you to believe in yourself. She is someone i look up to, for her resilience, her love for her children and her open arms to all who need a hug. She is a woman i am very proud of, and love very much.

Lady #2 I have know for about 1.5 years now; yet when we first met, we both looked at each other and said "F**k, I know you from somewhere", but we had never met before. Kindred souls in a previous life. In fact, i would swear that most of these women and I were together before. I tell her like i see, she tells me right back - then we swear at each other. I think we were destined to meet at this point in our lives - she came along just as i was re-energizing myself and at times became my 'generator'. I can talk to her about anything - and she can do the same. For some reason, we were meant to meet.

Lady #3 and i apparently fought together in a war in a previous life - which i find hard to believe as she would never hurt a fly. She is kind, patient, endearing, loving and finally happy in her life. We have shared many a cup of tea on my couch, getting through her relationship struggles, parents deaths, which seems fitting as i was told we were sisters in yet another life. They say opposites attract, well we sure do. For some reason we hit it off. But i didnt realize how much until when her dad died, i sent her a poem - and at his funeral she said "my best friend sent me this" - i love this girl, and will protect her at all costs (as i apparentely did in the war we fought).

Lady #4 - when i first met her, i thought, 'gosh she talks a lot' LOL; and didnt really connect. didnt really take the time to get to know her. But one day we just started chatting and she is one of the warmest, honest, innocent, loving, caring ladies i know. She opens her heart and her home to you; she appreciates the small things in life; we laugh, we giggle, we bitch about men! She adds a bright spark to my life. I look forward to my times with her.

Lady #5 - cant believe it has been 10 years since i met her. We lost contact for a good 8 of them, but started to chat again over bmx racing. For some reason, again, a huge connection was made. Laughter, sharing, stories, secret sayings - all are a huge part of why this lady has become so important to me. I look forward to her hugs; i love her random "i am a control freak" yells across the room. I love the fact she fits right in with our group - she has become a wonderful friend who I treasure.

Lady #6 - the one who i freak out sometimes. The one who giggles with me in the garage; who shares her stories and her life with me; the one who will just out of the blue send me a message saying 'i miss you'. We dont get to see each other enough, but when we do it is like we just chatted yesterday - she is the sort of person that will be there with me until the end, as i feel all of these ladies are. Her laughter is contagious, and her gifts are just starting to show - and we will all help her with them. She is a positive person in my life, I value her.

Lady #7 - i miss this one a lot. In the toughest time of my life, she was there for me. She told me how it was, what i would feel, how i would act, that i needed help. Even though at the time it may have felt like i wasnt listening - i was. She is a wonderful mother, and has a wonderful husband - and she works in a profession that i could never do . She amazes me with her compassion, love and caring for those in the last stages of their lives. She makes me very honoured to call her my friend. She is one of a kind.

Lady #8 - the other momma in my life. Not a momma to me, but a momma to every child that ever walked into our bmx track. She loves each and every kid as one of her own. She cares about everyone, would do anything ever asked, would do it with a smile. Will rescue dumbasses that drain their mommys car battery; would reach out and just grab your hand, just because she felt like you needed it; she is so in tune with me, and some say we look like sisters (if i was 50 lbs lighter and 6 inches shorter :) She is my other sister; my sunshine on a cloudy day; my personal counsellor when things were tough.

Gosh, there are so many other ladies that i have in my life, that i could add to this list, and i will add more tomorrow. But i just want you all to know that you are my energy, my empowerment, my power and my strength - i look forward to the times i spend with you all . . . you make my life so special. Thank you all for who you are.

An honest, honest blog about my dad . . . may be hard to read

My dad, well, my birth father. This blog is going to be honest, hard, and to the core i hope. I say that now, but have only just started to write it.

If you are easily upset, this blog may upset you - but i have to get this off my mind. I can probably say that when my dad passes, i will shed tears - not for the loss of him, but for what he lost in life - due to his own choices. I will not fly to England for his funeral; i will not grieve his death; i will not wish "what if?"; i will just say goodbye quietly in my own way, and move on. Boy i sound so brave - will this be what i do when he goes - or will i be a quivering piece of jello.

I have few real strong, happy memories about growing up with my dad and a lot of 'just memories'. And please, these are only my memories and impressions, not my sisters, my mums or anyone else's. My sisters may remember things differently - so i am not writing this to upset anyone.

I remember him being away a lot driving the coaches; i remember him calling me Fred cos he so wanted a son; i remember having to be quiet on Sunday afternoons so he could have his nap; i remember him telling us he was going away cos mummy and daddy didn't love each other anymore; i remember the bed i was sitting on when he left my mum; i remember when us girls would fight (after he had left) and my mum could not just handle it anymore, she would call him for help - he would tell her no, and would not help; i remember him picking us up on the occasional weekend; i remember him not fighting for us not to go when we left for Canada; i remember fondly the Royal Tournament he would take us too; i remember fondly him working in the cellar on his woodwork.

I think the toughest thing i will ever remember is also one of the turning points in my relationship with him. My younger sister had opened her heart and home to him here in Canada, and he had come over for a while to live. While he was here i wanted the answer to some questions, so i asked them.

I asked why he let us leave England so easily - "cos i couldn't, and didn't want to raise you, so you had to go with your mum".

Why i feel like he never really loved me "cos you were a girl, if you were a boy, things would have been different"

Why he tried to commit suicide twice when mum wanted him to leave "i just wanted it to be me and mummy, no kids - i would have stayed forever"

There were many more questions that had answers that just confirmed to me that he probably should have had none, or just one child. For a man that wanted a son, he had three daughters. And by the time my little sister came along, he had no love left for any of us, it was like we were a hinderance as we grew up.

So will i cry when he finally gets his wish, and passes on? I don't know. I want to be tough and prove that he didn't matter to me - but did he? I want to be a bitch and say 'you didn't love me, why should i love you" but can I? I want to say "you were never a father to me" but was he? Did he know how to be? was he capable of loving us kids? As the youngest of 11 kids did he know what the love of a parent really was? Am I punishing him for something he had no control over? Am i even punishing him, does he even really care what i think?

so the next few weeks (that is what they think he has left) will be an emotional roller coaster for me i think. Some days i may feel sad, some mad, some indifferent. But i know that my children will never have to feel this way - they know we love them, in fact they are sitting with me right now, sharing the couch, sharing the stories of their day. When i think of what my dad has missed out on - i pity him.

I wish him God Speed, i hope he finds peace with his decisions. He is not a nasty man, he is just a sad man, he is my father.

Thankful for bmx . . . . .

13 years ago we drove up to Track 2000 in Milton for an open house. Dean was hesitant as he had been involved as a teenager and told us we would get hooked. Well, Kyle had been off training wheels at age 2, and just wanted to jump his bike, so off we went to the track. and Dean was right, from day 1, we jumped in and helped out . . . . we had found a wonderful family activity.

Fast forward 13 years - i had been Track VP, track volunteer, track official, track registrar, OCA VP BMX, OCA staff member, national official, course conductor etc etc etc - and i was leaving the sport. I had lost the drive, the thrill and the joy of the sport - it was no longer as much fun as it used to be . . . . i dreaded race weekends; i found reasons not to go to the locals; i just could never enjoy just watching the races anymore. I realized it was time to move on.

We achieved a lot in those 13 years - and i say WE as there was an amazing group of people - first one was Sue, we met thru BMX and are best friends to this day - man did we go through some ups and downs - she became my sounding board when i was so mad with the new processes at the office; she calmed me down when i would rant and rave; she supported me when i said i had had enough. Then Brendan, my SWM, we hit it off from day one - he is what i really miss at the office. Between the 3 of us we started the first High Performance program for BMX racing - we fought for funding; for respect; for recognition - and we did it, we helped create National and Provincial champions, and our model has been followed by other provinces.

Then Martin, oh what can i say about Martin - other than his wife, i am probably the only woman he allows to nag him. We started the first officials program in Ontario; wrote the course for the national organization; became 2 of the first national officials in Canada; and he the first international official from Ontario in BMX racing. Man we fought some battles.

Then the families; the Walshes, the Fosters, the Trachs, Melansons, Ketchins, Richards, and all of the rest - i was lucky to see the kids grown through the sport. There were also some kids that made me want to quit so many times, one not from our track was a thorn in my side for 5 years - but i just tell myself that one day he will get his own, and you know what, i so dislike this child that i will not be there to pick him up when he does get pushed down. He made my life hell.

But my whole bmx experience has bought me the most wonderful friends, memories, laughter, tears, the biggest tragedy in my life, and the strongest support after that tragedy - i love you Timmy.

I was told i wore my game face at the races - in fact i just wanted to get out of there at the end - my time was done. The dozen years i spent in the sport, 10 were great, 2 sucked. If i had to be honest, i should have left in 2007 when someone that believed in me also left. Because with him i was given support, motivation, energy and respect. And when he left, i think my spirit for the sport left with him.

But as i look back and look at what we all achieved together, i am proud and honoured to have been part of a sport with so many amazing people and children. And you know what, that little asshole that made my life hell can just piss off . . . . cos i never have to deal with him again.

The difference in lives . . . . .

Today was a long day, fell asleep about 4am and headed to work about 830 (but then snuck out at 330). Was waiting all day for the call from my mum or step dad. She got into the drs. office real fast and is now waiting for the cardiologist appt - i told her if she waits more than two weeks, that i will go down there and force a bloody appt. Dont make my mum wait dammit!

Then my younger sis gets a call from my older sis in the UK, our real dad is not well, and it is just a matter of days. We knew this was coming, he gave up on life months ago - and this is where the difference in lives happen. One parent surrounded by love, allowing herself to enjoy life, smiling every day, laughing and enjoying her kids and grandkids; and the other one who closed himself off from his family. I feel sorry for my dad - on what he has missed out on; we tried to connect with him many times, and the connection was just lost unfortunately. Sometimes relationships are just not meant to be.

We are blessed to have the most amazing step-father; a man who has raised us for the last 30 years with love, laughter, strictness and guidance. Sure he can be a crotchety old fart - but i love him so much. He is a wonderful grandfather to our sons; and Brady absolutely worships him, and Kyle teases the crap out of him. He has made my mum so so happy - i am thankful to have him in my life.

I love you mum and Geoff; and God Speed to my dad -

I love my mum . . . . . .

I LOVE MY MUM.

She makes me smile, makes me laugh, makes me feel special. And today she made me feel so lucky, and scared at the same time.

We had a late thanksgiving, or early christmas as they were going to head to Florida on Saturday for 6 months. Mum showed us that her ankles were a very swollen, it alarmed us, but mum is terrified of hospitals - and didn't want to spoil her day with the grandkids and kids.

4 hours later the swelling was up to her knees, and we said 'screw you, we are going to emerg', and off we went. She was in a bed in 10 minutes, ecg, xray, blood, urine - and she was crying - my god it is so hard to watch your mummy cry. and your sister shake, and your dad worry - diagnosis was Congenital Heart Failure/Defect - that is why she has been feeling weak since April - other Drs. told her it was a chest infection.

My mummy was so brave, first time she has ever had an IV - or ecg - so so brave. Thing is she quit smoking a while ago, and has not felt well since - so she was putting it down to shit coming out of her system - but the Dr. said it was a good thing we took her in , as the accelaration of the swelling was swift - by the time we left the hospital, the medicine and diuretics were working, and she was smiling, knowing what she had to deal with - and a reason for feeling so weak the past months.

So to my sister Linzi - you were a rock; my hubby Dean - thank you for being there to hold my hand; my step dad Geoff - take care of my mummy now; to Georgetown Hospital - THANK YOU; to Kyle, thank you for the Timmies delivery; to Brady and Brittany - thank you for watching the boys so Linzi could come to the hospital; and to my mummy - i am lucky to have you; thank you for being brave - i know how scared you were. I LOVE YOU MUMMY, and we will all get through this together - and now we will spend Christmas together. There was a reason you were here with us today - because you are so scared of hospitals, you would not have gone if you were at home. The world works in mysterious ways - I love my family.

The loves of my life (well 2 of them at least)

Oh the joy of boys . . . . my babies, my loves, my joy, my reason for smiling, my life.

They are my boys. They are good boys too. I still hear 'i love you mummy' at least 10 times a day; i still get a kiss goodnight every night, and every time they leave the house. They will listen to my stories about my work day, and tell me they are proud of me; their friends think we are cool; my friends enjoy the company . . . how did we get so lucky.

Dean and I were discussing last night about how we have done something right - they are respectful boys; they dont do drugs - but will have a beer now and again; they will open the door for people and shake their hands when they meet you for the first time - or if you have made it into their hearts they will hug you. And oh my gosh, their hugs are amazing. They wrap their arms around me, put their chins on my head and squeeze, the most wonderful feeling in the world. But poor Deano, they still sit on his lap, and he thinks 'ahhh, my boys', until they start trying to pin his arms, and drag him to the ground for wrestling time. And Deano doesnt stand a chance - he is usually tapping out in 2 seconds. :)

We raised our boys with the love in our hearts, and tried to teach them that communication is so important. We will sit and talk about death, drugs, sex, school, cars, work and anything else that comes up. On a recent car ride with Brady, we covered every topic there is, and to hear the insight and thoughts in a 17 years old mind is a real eye opener. I learnt he is not afraid of death, loves his girlfriend madly and deeply, has not tried drugs, and that he will be a cop - nothing will stand in his way.

Deano and I often say how did we get so lucky? But then i look at our relationship and realize we have set a good example. We talk, we share, we laugh, we have our own hobbies, but like our weekend time together, we also never hang up a phone without saying i love you, and i still think he is sexy! After 24 years, thats not bad!

Our boys are our lives, and as they grow older i fear them leaving home. I enjoy their company so much, and do not want empty nest syndrome. We are happy that Brady will be going to college locally, so at least we have him for a few more years! Kyle will go where life takes him, he is not sure where his life is leading him, but it will all come into place when it is the right time.

Thank you boys, for being who you are. for making me proud everyday, and for being two lovely young men. I love you.

My little 'poem' for Nov 11 . . . . .

After a day of visiting cenotaphs, I started to think of a “poem” in my head . . . .

"CLOSE YOUR EYES"

Close your eyes and see yourself climbing aboard the ship that is taking you to war,

to fight for your country and your family and your freedom,

and feel it sway beneath your feet.

Close your eyes and picture a field, a field that is miles wide and miles long,

with your enemy crawling towards you through no man’s land,

his only aim is to take your life.

Close your eyes and imagine the smell of the bombs exploding around you,

the bodies decaying, and the feet rotting in your boots,

and the gunpowder odor that fills the air.

Close your eyes and listen for the bullets whizzing past your head, the bombs and the shrieks

of the men falling around you, and the sobs of those

that just want to go home

Close your eyes and picture a plate of rations that is not enough to feed a boy never mind a man,

a glass of water that is not clean, and pull in an extra notch on your belt

for all the weight you have lost.

Close your eyes and pull the photo of your loved ones out of your damp, wrinkled wallet

so creased and crinkled as you stare at it 100 times a day, never knowing

if you will see them again.

Close your eyes and pray that it will be over, they will surrender, they will realize they are wrong

that the killing and hurting and hating will stop soon,

so you can go home, a man

Now open your eyes and look around you, look at what you have today,

and remember you have this due to those who fought and died for our freedom

Close your eyes and give thanks, and remember.

The lady more in the centre with the polka dot blouse is my nan, Gertrude Davidson nee Hutchins.

And the ladies she are with, are the ladies that prepared the VDay party in Fulham, London in 1944.

Nan did not have an easy life. Nan was born in 1893 in Leicestershire, England to a nurse, Maria Hutchins, who had had an affair with an eminent Jewish Doctor. In 1893 this was a disgrace - not accepted - and totally socially unacceptable. The couple never got married, and Maria left my Nan with her own mother and took off to South Africa for 12 years, leaving Ada Hutchins to raise her granddaughter. When Ada died in 1908, Maria had to return to a child she didn't know, and who didn't know her.

When my nan met George Albert Wilmore, she knew she was going to marry him, and did. She proceeded to have my Aunt Joan, and then fell pregnant a second time with her son Francis. During her second pregnancy, Albert (as he was known) skipped town on a boat to Canada (somewhat ironic). He was a renowned concert pianist that apparently left town with a new woman - he didnt want the job of being a father. We believe he settled in Burlington, but all of my internet research has not shown him landing in Canada.

In the early 1920's nan met Leonard Victor Davidson, a man willing to take on her two children and who loved her. She remarried. I have never found proof of her divorce, so i am not sure how she managed to do this. Nan and Granddad had 5 more children, Eric, Margaret, Peter, Barbara and Linda; today only the girls still live.

Linda is my mum. She was born on July 24, 1940 in London - when my nan was 48 YEARS OLD!. The family was living in a set of flats on one side of London - the type of flats where the hallways are on the outside and you walk up cement stairs to get to your flat. Family of 7 in a 2 bedroom flat, and on one income. The flats were a part of a 'court' where there were many sets of flats all on one area of land, with a common play area. During a night of bombing, the flats were damaged beyond repair and the family had to be relocated partway across London.

So off they trooped to Kinnoul Road - they didn't own a car and had to move their lives with 5 kids under the age of 12. The London Council offered my nan house number 27, but my nan thought it was dirty and told the Council there was no way she was moving her family into that mess, and demanded another house, so they moved her to number 9. Sometime later Kinnoul road was bombed, and the gas lines were broken. The family that had moved into #27 had huddled in their cellar to survive the bomb blasts, only to be felled by the gas. They died that day.

My mum cannot go past a building with a corrugated tin roof - you know the wavy kind - without feeling sick to her stomach. We think we have finally figured out why - the family had an Anderson shelter in the backyard; a bomb shelter that was dug partway into the ground, that had food in it, and had a corrugated roof! The family had to run into the shelter when the air raid siren went off. No wonder she hates corrugated roofs.

The one story that my mum tells all the time is that one day a small incindary (sp) bomb came through the roof of the house, into the room where my 2 year old mum was sleeping. The bomb was a dud and did not explode, so my nan picked the damn thing up and took it out to the curb! Yes, my then 50 yr old nan was having 'none of that in her house'. The night warden caught her doing this, and yelled "Mrs. Davidson, can't 'ave you putting that there! It might blow", to which my nan responded "Well it ain't staying in my 'ouse, you can keep it!" Wonder if i get my moxy from my nan!!

Tomorrow, stories my stepdad told me . . . . thank you for reading.

Remembering . . . . .

Remembering, honouring, thanking, respecting . . . . . all those that fought for us to be free.

The photo is of my Grandad, Leonard V. Davidson, b 1893 and served in WW1. He was sent to Ypres in his early twenties. My mum didn't know much about his war years, every time a family member would bring it up, my nan would shush them. So as a surprise for my mum, i ordered my granddads war records from England. She had no idea he was awarded 2 medals; no idea that he was gassed in France; no idea he was sent home due to illness from the gas; no idea he took ill a few times while overseas.

When i found out where granddad was stationed during the war, i researched it on the internet. Just reading the war diaries and reports from the soldiers, about the mud being 3 feet deep in the trenches; of the rats that would gnaw on your flesh if you fell asleep; of the rotten feet from wet socks and soaked leaking boots; of the guns that would jam up from the mud; of the cave-in of the trenches where they would rush to dig their comrades out; of the meals that were few and far between and the need for clean water so desperate. How did these boys - and yes a lot of them were boys - survive, what pushed them to fight everyday? Was it the thought of never seeing their family again? Was it that the man beside them was fighting so hard, and that he couldn't seem like a coward? Was it the superior officer yelling in their ears? Or was it just plain out pride. Pride for their country, their countrymen, and pride for themselves. I think it was probably a little of all of them.

One of Deans uncles, Charles Lazenby, was taken as a POW in WW1, but the records were lost during the blitz in WW2. All we know is that he was 2 years a prisoner, and was stretched on a rack! He came home in 1917 and suffered from arm problems for the rest of his life because of the rack. He was looked after at the Spadina Military Hospital, which is now part of the UofT, and he was there the same time as Amelia Earhart did her nursing service there. He died in 1934 - a broken man from all accounts. His wife and family left Canada and returned to England after his death. In fact, there was a story in the Leeds, Yorkshire newspaper that the Lazenby family sent 6 male family members to war, and all came home! I also have a copy of that.

Deans grandfather, Oliver Pearson, was signed up in Georgetown and send to Welland for boot camp. He wasnt a slim man, and probably did not find the basic training very easy. I managed to download a book on the 37th BN of the C.E.F. and it tells how they had to march from Welland to Barrie for deployment; and enroute stopped in Hamilton - and how friendly the Hamiltonians were - that they came out of their houses and bought the soldiers teas and biscuits. Oliver had only arrived in Canada in 1910 or so from Yorkshire, England and here he was heading back 'over home' to fight a war. So he gets to Bedfordshire in the UK, only to be sent home as 'unfit for duty, due to obesity'. I have a photo of him from the book, and he looked about 40lbs overweight.

Our only real loss in our family was my dads brother, who fell in Tunisia in WW2. He was only 20 years old when he passed. William Edwards, or Uncle Billy, as the family called him, looked like a teenager when he died. His parents never got over his loss, and installed a shrine to him in their home. He is buried in Grfax Cemetary in Tunisia - and yes i also have photos of his war grave, with my dad and my other uncle George standing beside it. On the day Billy died, 1700 british troops fell in that one battle. All his items were returned to him in a parcel, with a stamp saying "killed in action" on the top of it.

I have many more stories of my family and the war - and tomorrow i will tell the story of my mum being born in 1940 in wartime england - and the bomb that came through the roof - for now I will Remember, honour, thank and respect all soldiers, past and present. GOD BLESS YOU ALL.

The face that could tell a thousand stories . . . .

The stories behind these eyes - married for 50+ years to Lil. A gentle, gentle aura around this man, and it was so evident that his daughter clearly adores him.

Handsome boy . . . .

One of the handsome young men that i had the pleasure of shooting on the weekend.

Photo shoot - what a wonderful day . . . .

I had the distinct pleasure of shooting 3 generations of a family this past Sunday. Laurie, Al and their brood of handsome boys met us at a very special in Mono Township.

The house we met at was built in 1895, and was the house where Lauries mom, Lil was born. It has changed hands a few times, and has been modernized, but what a beautiful, tranquil peace of property. Laurie think I should buy it for her and she can rent it out for weddings - hmmmm, somehow i think i would be on the losing end of that deal!

Lauries parents were coming to join us to also be included in the photo shoot, so a total of 3 generations would come together that day, to create memories.

From the minute i got out of the car, and got my huge huge huge hug for Laurie, i knew it was going to be a great day. I took Pam with me as a second clicker, to capture some of the more candid shots while i was doing the more 'official shots' - and we smiled the whole time with the family, and really enjoyed our day.

The 4 boys are all so handsome, patient and photogenic. And you can feel the love in the family - constant touching, holding and just the looks that pass between them all, make you feel warm and safe - this is a family full of love and respect for each other.

Thank you to the family for allowing us to spend that day with you . . . .

The morning after the Ladies Night

Sometimes we all take the small things for granted, when in reality, they are so important, and effect your lives more than you realize. and as a great friend just said "good for the soul".

Last night i was honoured to be in the presence of some amazing women. Funny, deep, open and welcoming.

We were at my sisters house, you always feel so welcome when you go there, it is a warm and inviting house, and put 12 women in one room and you are sure to have some giggles, discussions and share some secrets. And boy, were there some secrets! The night started with sweet Brittany coming into a conversation halfway and putting both feet in her mouth with a comment that she will never live down! Let's just say it was about nursing . . . . .

Was so glad to see Sue there, her first night out since Zachary was born 4 weeks ago . . . . . she got thru aching boobs to also share stories and laughter with us. So glad she came.

Sharon was the funniest with the "oh my god I shudder when I think about it" discussion about a certain ex. That started the ball rolling about mens 'sizes' and odors that carried on for most of the night. Her body language when talking about the ex was priceless.

We met to discuss life, spirituality and share experiences. Some of the discussion got a bit 'dictorial', but when you have that many personalities and people with life learning in one room, that is bound to happen. We all just took it in stride and if we wanted to listen we did. Some of the questions asked really opened the door to some amazing discussions.

But my poor little sis is such a lightweight, off to bed she goes prior to the end of the evening, and she misses some serious shits and giggles - Debs, in the middle of a quiet conversation yells across the room 'BUT ARE YOU A CONTROL FREAK?" and the whole room goes silent, then Pam stands up, and in her typical Pam way says "well, what Debs meant to say was, do you like to be in control at certain times, let me introduce myself, I am Debs filter" LOL. You just had to be there.

Between the control freak statement, the "my inner buddha flips me the bird"; "I cant find the red ball"; "where is my phone"; "ewww it was small and he stunk"; "my husband would have you join us"; "Brady does that too"; "filter, Deb, Filter" . . . and all the rest of the comments that will make me smile every time i think of them - i thoroughly enjoyed my evening.

I came away feeling empowered, enlightened, energized and so honoured and lucky to have been surrounded by so many wonderful women for 4 hours.

Why I came to Canada . . . . .

Just under 30 years ago, i stepped off of Wardair Flight 742 to a new country and a new life. One that i dont think i was prepared for.

I was just about to finish secondary school in England - June 1981 i would have graduated and probably either gone into the army or the police force. I was not a good kid in secondary school - class clown, moody, shit disturber, throwing chairs out of 3rd storey windows to try and hit my English teachers car (cos she pissed me off!), bunking off and more.

We couldnt afford college, mum was a single mum with an ex husband that really wanted nothing to do with us kids. I think he paid 5 pounds a week for child maintenance, that is $10! So i knew i would have to go somewhere where they would either educate me, or the police. The only thing about the police is what the ladies coppers had to wear the ugliest hats, and SKIRTS! UGH so i wasnt sure what i wanted to do. I know i didnt want to be a secretary, which seemed like the only other option.

So to cut a realllllyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy long story short, my little sis and I were on the Isle of Wight at a Girls Brigade Camp for 2 weeks - and while we were away mum turned 40, and decided to host a party in our cellar. We had quite the cellar, the floor was cemented and a bar was in one corner with a stage for a DJ in the other corner. Mum had tons of parties in those years, and Linzi and i would go and drink all the leftover drinks the next morning - gross when i think about it!

Well at this party, a friends cousin came in and BOOM ZAP POW, apparently there were lightning bolts across the room when my mum and his eyes met. They spend the next week together, inseperable - and were madly in love at the end of his visit.

They met July 24, 1980 and we landed here Nov 30, 1980! Talk about a whirlwind.

I had to give up the Fulham Ladies tryouts (i was football crazy); give up the new love of my life, Stephen Ford; give up all my friends and neighbours; give up my cousins and aunts and uncles; but you know what - it was ok - my mum had worked hard on her own, and she was in love, and i heard that Canada was the land of opportunity - and snow, and eskimoes and reindeer . . . . . . .

KKK costume wins prize at Legion

Taken from citynews.ca

"A man dressed in a KKK robe, complete with hood and a Confederate flag on his back led another man in blackface around by a rope tied in a noose around his neck at the Halloween party in Campbellford, Ont., on Saturday night. A witness said the act was awarded top honours. Ontario Provincial Police Const. Chris Dewsbury said police received a complaint and launched an investigation. So far it seems unlikely criminal charges will be laid, but the investigation is ongoing, Dewsbury said. "At the present time it would appear that this is simply a case of poor judgment involving the selection of a Halloween costume and there's no basis to suggest that a criminal offence has taken place," he said."


Well first off I am not a racist and I think i have a good sense of humor and make light of a lot of things but I do find this tasteless. Humor can be a very gray area at times depending on what it is and how it is presented.

I dont understand what would possess these individuals to think that this costume would be appropriate and non-offensive.

How can the Legion think it is ok to let this happen. Did their veterans not fight for the freedom of all, black, white, asian, all of us bleed the same colour!

If someone dresses as Hitler with "a jewish looking person" and a gas can - would the Legion have allowed it,

Many people have posted that 'it was just a joke', and that the coloured community should 'stop being so sensitive'. I think they have every right to be sensitive - just as the Jewish, Rwandan and other communities are.

Still fuming over the freaking church . . . . .

So in the GTown paper today, they are calling for more food to be donated to the local food bank. Over 170 families, including 200 children use our local food bank.

So as much as i like living in Georgetown, I have a few beefs with the town/democracy here.

Lets suggest to the new Holy Cross monstrosity that they stop asking their parishioners to donate to the new church, which we really dont need, and donate to the food bank instead. Lets see them now donate their 'old', still totally useable, never full (unless on a confirmation day), sturdy, large church to the youth of this town. We have no movie theatre, no youth centre to speak of, a 5 pin bowling alley and swimming pool is all we have - show me 10 teenagers, and i will show you 9 of them that want something else to do in this town.

Our skatepark sucks, so the kids ride their longboards down the middle of the street, or their bmx bikes on public property - and then get yelled at to leave. But where will they go. To a 20 x 20 skate park that sucks butt! Oh, maybe they should drive to Acton or Milton where they realize that the kids need outlets - Acton has an awesome skatepark that is always used to the max, milton has a movie theatre, a skate park, a bmx park, a bmx race track . . . . GTown needs to get its head out of its rear end. Except the majority of these kids probably dont drive!

Turn the church into an indoor skate park, the ceilings are certainly high enough - use the extra rooms for a place for kids to do their homework; talk to friends; watch a movie; create a youth improv group; offer job skills training; bring stores/companies in to do mock interviews, or real interviews for the kids that are looking for work; host monthly fundraiser dances or activities - the church is supposed to give back - give back to the youth of our town.

I am going to find out what they are doing with the old church - if they tell me they are building condos, stores or private residences i will go to town council and raise a freaking stink! I wonder how much the new church paid for the land they are on . . . . . wonder if it was free . . . . .that is when the poop would hit the fan if they tear down the old church when the kids of this town could use it!

More investigation needs to be done on my end . . . . i will keep you posted . . .

I got blogged . . . .

http://www.brentpilgrimblog.ca/?p=737

I got blogged!

Concussions - nothing to mess with . . . .

Today the hockey world posted information just how dangerous concussions are. For years I have been refusing to allow kids that hit their heads on the BMX track back on the track without a) doctors clearance, and b) new helmet.

Parents would bitch, complain, yell, scream and accuse me of wrecking their kids season - i just wish they would realize that i was not wrecking their kids season, i was trying to save their kids brains. Even this season, there were 2 occurrences at our track in Milton, where i got so pissed off in the end that i just left, and made a report to the insurance company that the parent had gone against first aid advice.

These situations were one of the last straws with my job in BMX - it is just a trophy people! it is only points - is that really worth more than your childs future. And it is the parents that should know better that consider their kids futures less important than a medal!

When i see my own son laying there groaning and twitching after hitting his head hard, i was more scared than when he had broken bones, surgery or any other injury . . . he was not allowed back on the bike for weeks . . . please put priorities in the right order, dont be 'that parent'

Get a proper fitting helmet, make sure the kids have it done up for gods sake - it may look cool to ride while 'breaking the rules', but not gonna look cool when you are drooling in a wheelchair cos the helmet flew off on impact! dont use second hand helmets, unless you know they have NOT been in a crash. Get the helmet fitted properly.

From www.citynews.ca:

"trying to eliminate or at least reduce the incidence of concussion in hockey — and indeed in all contact sports — is a social issue as much as one of health and safety for young athletes.

"And that is what makes it difficult to address head-on," he said. "Players don't want to appear weak or to be letting their team down. From a very young age, they're encouraged to suck it up and play through the pain. Parents are anxious for the kids to get back on the ice. Coaches are often focused on winning ahead of athletes' safety. The media often highlights and glorifies the gratuitous violence in the game.

"We should be making it easy for the players and the adults around them to do the right thing when it comes to concussion," he said.

"And yet it would appear that we've created an environment that's doing just the opposite."

THINK ABOUT YOUR CHILDS BRAIN - YOU CAN FIX A BROKEN LEG, YOU CANNOT FIX A BROKEN BRAIN!

Things to make you go hmmmmmmm . . . . .

• Why does the sun lighten our hair, but darken our skin?
• Why can't women put on mascara with their mouth closed?
• Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavour, while dishwashing liquid is made with real lemons?
• Why don't we ever see this headline:
  Psychic Wins Lottery ?
• Why is the man who invests all your money called a 'Broker'?
• Why isn't there mouse flavoured cat food?
• Who tastes dog food when it has a 'new & improved' flavour?
• Why didn't Noah swat those two mosquitoes?
• Why do they sterilize the needle for lethal injections?
• Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?
• Why do they call the airport 'the terminal' if flying is so safe?

Budgets and Booze . . . . .

I keep telling myself, i am not gonna drink, i am not gonna drink - budget time at the OSA. Not only is it the biggest budget i have ever dealt with, it is the first time as a manager in charge of setting that budget - $800,000 worth of staff, education, training, committees, expenses . . . . .

When i first looked at my GL, I couldnt figure out why some accounts were low and some so high, so me being the slight anal retentive person that i am, had to do a 'forensic audit' - for two days i sat hunched over 58 pages of items and made sure i journal entried them into the right accounts. When the accountant didnt have time to do them all before budget was due, i manually did them all on a spreadsheet - yes i know, I am anal - no comments needed! Well after that 3 day process the budget started to make a little more sense to me.

So off i start, take the $800,000 from last year, reduce some costs - increase some programming and find $10,000 for a new Female Initiative Program (can you tell a woman is now in charge!). We were at a deficit and I had to make some big changes - and i had no clue on what my restrictions were, what i was allowed to cut, what i could - so i just winged it! Not that i could not have asked, but my boss is so busy right now with 5 or 6 other projects that i just do my thing day to day - he hasnt come in and fired me yet, so i guess i am doing ok!

So last night at 9pm i get an email on my blackberry for the guy that is 'second in command' - "we need to talk about your budget" Well dang it, i should not have read that at 9pm cos then i was up til 2am thinking about where i had screwed up! So today we meet, we go over the budget, doesnt seem too bad i think - he is not telling me i am total retard yet! At the end of the day, after i have sat sweating and waiting he comes into me and says "How long have you been here now?", i look at him "three months tomorrow" and hold my breath - here it comes . . . . "well, for someone that has only been here 3 months, you gave me the most concise, detailed and on track budget, you really seem to know what you are doing - well done" PHEW!!!

So the moral of the day is . . . Anal Retentive is a good thing sometimes . . . . go with your gut!