Tag Archives: Memories

Summer Days — TBT

20 Jul

These lazy days of summer are flying by in a blur of sunny afternoon skies and long warm evenings sipping sangria on the patio. As I sit sipping my cold, fruity wine, I listen to the sounds of the neighbourhood — children laughing, adults chatting and families eating dinner outside, steaks and hotdogs sizzling on barbeques.

This cacophony of summer sent me into a reverie of seasons past and my thoughts drifted to days when my daughters were still at home. The fun days at the beach — with a picnic lunch and and drippy ice-cream cones melting in the sun. I remember days that turned to night as we sat on the sand and waited for the sun to set so we could ooh and ahh at stunning firework displays.

TBT to the Summer of 2010

I miss those days for sure — but I am also enjoying these times that are spent with alone with my husband. Blues and jazz playing on the stereo, quiet talks about books, life and watching movies on Netflix. Life is quieter now, slower, simpler — until the girls burst in the door for pizza night!!

 

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TBT — Remembering Elementary School

16 Mar

Blog Post #237

I barely remember my elementary school days. Oh, sure, I have memories of my younger days — vignettes of a time long ago, when innocence reigned and life was carefree with only a skinned knee or lost toy to mar that period of time. But most of the memories that I do have are small moments in time that stand out, sometimes for no apparent reason.

As I was leafing through some old photos (again!), looking for an idea for a “Throw Back Thursday” post, I found an old school photograph of me in the first grade. This was my very first school picture and I have a few crystal clear memories of that day.

School Photo

I remember with perfect clarity the colour of the shirt I am wearing. It was a pale green — not pastel green, but sort of a light, mossy green. I remember it clearly because I loved that top. I loved everything about it  — the light shade, the ruffles on the collar that continued down the front concealing the little buttons and also adorned the little cap sleeves. I can picture my teacher perfectly in my mind. Mrs. Romanow, who was adored by the entire class of 5 and 6 year olds. She combed my hair that day — it was never so neat, not then and not now!!

I remember other instances from those early school days. Dick, Jane and Sally — the children featured in the books that I first learned to read. Making friends with new kids, learning to ice skate at recess on the bumpy outdoor ice rink, eating bologna sandwiches on white bread for lunch, the little pink metal lunch box that held those waxed paper-wrapped sandwiches. The big red primer pencils that we all used in grade one, our plump little fingers curled around them, struggling to draw the ABC’s. My desk with the lift up lid that held a notebook, eraser and those fat pencils.

Laughter, fun, excitement, scraped knees, friends, family and bubble gum. These, like most of my memories of my childhood, while fuzzy and a little dim, still retain a sense of joy, innocence and happiness. I hope that holds true for my children and for you, as well.

 

 

 

Silver Anniversary

24 Jan

Today, my husband and I are celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. It won’t be a lavish affair, in fact, I will probably just cook something special and buy a bottle of champagne to toast this milestone, instead of going out to a fancy restaurant. We haven’t made any plans.

We rarely have big splashy parties or “events” to mark the special occasions in our lives, but it doesn’t mean that they aren’t important to us. It just means that we don’t feel the need to pull out all the stops to celebrate the special moments that make up our life together, but we do acknowledge them in our own way.

We usually buy each other a present, mostly very non-traditional gifts. (Last year, Bruce got a ukelele!) It’s funny though, I don’t remember a lot of those gifts, but I do have very special memories from the past 25 years of our married life.

The special Valentine’s card that he had made me with a poem he’d written inside, or the time he taught me the easy way to convert fractions into decimals. The CD he made me for Christmas one year — the one where every song on it is one that I love. The way he read The Little Engine That Could over and over and over to our two daughters when they were young. How he carried all three of us back to the car after a long hike on Gabriola Island. The single, long-stemmed red rose he would give to each daughter at the end of every school year. Or how he has helped me to grow, giving me the courage to be myself, to accept my flaws, to see myself as a beautiful, smart and kind human being — as he sees me.

To be sure, we have had our ups and downs, arguments, and silly spats, but through it all we have found a path that leads to acceptance, forgiveness and a deeper loving bond. We respect, like and love each other.

I thank you, Bruce, for this wonderful quarter of a century of our life together and all the beautiful remembrances. I am looking forward to making more memories with you in the next 25 years!

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