The Truth is Stranger than Fiction

I Can’t Change, Even If I Wanted To…

/ Sarah / 7 Comments

Indulge me and read the lyrics for this song below…

“Same Love”
(with Ryan Lewis)
(feat. Mary Lambert)

When I was in the third grade I thought that I was gay,
‘Cause I could draw, my uncle was, and I kept my room straight.
I told my mom, tears rushing down my face
She’s like “Ben you’ve loved girls since before pre-k, trippin’ “
Yeah, I guess she had a point, didn’t she?
Bunch of stereotypes all in my head.
I remember doing the math like, “Yeah, I’m good at little league”
A preconceived idea of what it all meant
For those that liked the same sex
Had the characteristics
The right wing conservatives think it’s a decision
And you can be cured with some treatment and religion
Man-made rewiring of a predisposition
Playing God, aw nah here we go
America the brave still fears what we don’t know
And God loves all his children, is somehow forgotten
But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five-hundred years ago
I don’t knowAnd I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warmIf I was gay, I would think hip-hop hates me
Have you read the YouTube comments lately?
“Man, that’s gay” gets dropped on the daily
We become so numb to what we’re saying
A culture founded from oppression
Yet we don’t have acceptance for ’em
Call each other faggots behind the keys of a message board
A word rooted in hate, yet our genre still ignores it
Gay is synonymous with the lesser
It’s the same hate that’s caused wars from religion
Gender to skin color, the complexion of your pigment
The same fight that led people to walk outs and sit ins
It’s human rights for everybody, there is no difference!
Live on and be yourself
When I was at church they taught me something else
If you preach hate at the service those words aren’t anointed
That holy water that you soak in has been poisoned
When everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless
Rather than fighting for humans that have had their rights stolen
I might not be the same, but that’s not important
No freedom till we’re equal, damn right I support it

(I don’t know)

And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm

We press play, don’t press pause
Progress, march on
With the veil over our eyes
We turn our back on the cause
Till the day that my uncles can be united by law
When kids are walking ’round the hallway plagued by pain in their heart
A world so hateful some would rather die than be who they are
And a certificate on paper isn’t gonna solve it all
But it’s a damn good place to start
No law is gonna change us
We have to change us
Whatever God you believe in
We come from the same one
Strip away the fear
Underneath it’s all the same love
About time that we raised up

And I can’t change
Even if I tried
Even if I wanted to
And I can’t change
Even if I try
Even if I wanted to
My love
My love
My love
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm
She keeps me warm

Love is patient
Love is kind
Love is patient
Love is kind
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I’m not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I’m not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
(not crying on Sundays)
Love is kind
(I’m not crying on Sundays)
Love is patient
Love is kind

I heard this song for the first time last week and it had a profound impact on me. I bought it on Monday and I’ve been listening to it ever since, and every time I hear it, I have the same reaction. YES! This is everything I could ever want to say!

For me, homosexuality was not an issue. I don’t remember seeing my first gay couple. For my way of thinking, finding another human being who will love and accept you, that’s a beautiful thing. Maybe it’s because of my upbringing. My parents never voiced negativity about homosexuality, but in all honesty, it didn’t really enter our world. There were themes in movies and music, but my sister and I never got the vibe that it was “wrong”.

I remember sitting in church when it was announced that the United Church of Canada was the first Christian denomination to ordain gay and lesbian ministers. I was so proud. That was 25 years ago. In many ways, living in Canada has given me a perplexed view of the insanity going on about gay marriage in the U.S. What’s the big freakin’ deal?

Let’s look at it this way…

Sarah

female

mother, wife, daughter, sister

writer, photographer, dreamer, schemer, baker, closet singer

heterosexual

When the topic of homosexuality comes up, you would be the same but unfortunately, it seems to look like this…

Jane

HOMOSEXUAL

Lots of other things that make up who Jane is, but not nearly as interesting as

HER SEX LIFE

Whaaaaaaa?

I can guarantee you, I don’t want to move my sex life up my list of defining characteristics. Do you?

Here’s more food for thought. You wake up tomorrow and there is a new set of “rules”. You are no longer allowed to be with your partner. If you are male, society does not want you anywhere near your wife/girlfriend. You need to find yourself a nice man and settle down. If you are a female, forget having a future with your husband/boyfriend. Society, family, friends all try to convince you that you are confused, you REALLY want to be with a woman, right?

Imagine sitting in church and being told you are not loved by God if you love someone of the opposite sex? Could someone offer you a course that would make you accept a relationship you didn’t feel was natural to you?

Then why the hell would you expect that of a woman who loves another woman; a man who loves another man.

There is no “choice” in this. There is no “wanting” to be gay.  Young people would rather die than bear the torture they experience because of how their DNA lines up. Hate crimes against the gay communities continue, regardless of the media focus and supposed moral outrage. This is why I’m saying this now. Here. I support my family, friends, and co-workers past and present who are all a part of SAME LOVE.

I fully expect to get some negative feedback about this column, and quite frankly, I DON’T CARE. I would rather be judged by small minded, backward thinking people than be silent and considered to be one of them.

Radio Silence

/ Sarah / 6 Comments

I’ve been biting my tongue, with a number of things I’m dying to write about.

Some things were not ready to be written, as the story had yet to unfold.

Some things are not mine to tell.

Some things are yet to be. And I hope I will have a great share for you.

My mantra for the past two years has been “PATIENCE”. I feel I have learned it well.

If you could have a little for me, I would appreciate it!

Letters That Need to Be Written IV

/ Sarah / 13 Comments

Dear Stephen Harper aka Canada’s Bully,

I have just this evening viewed the filth commercial broadcast on behalf of the Conservative Party of Canada, or should I say, the Stephen Harper Support Group, which bashes Justin Trudeau, the recently elected leader of the Liberal Party.

This would be my shortest communication ever, if I was to say “Smarten the hell up!”, but I feel I should expand on this somewhat.

First of all, in a day and age when bullying in the classroom, playground and arena is at an all-time high, can we really expect anything of our children, when our elected officials, indeed adults and purported “leaders” are guilty of such childish behaviour?

Your commercial criticizes Justin Trudeau for his background as a teacher, and a camp counsellor. How clever, because NO ONE would have thought that working with children was a lower calling. You seem to think that a strip tease is Trudeau doffing his suit jacket and shirt at a recognized fundraiser. I’m gonna help you out here, don’t Google “Magic Mike.”

It seems fairly evident that you are a little threatened by this supposed upstart. I can understand why. You have sampled all of the political parties (starting with the Liberals yourself in your University days, followed by the Reform Party of Canada – what a swell bunch, and finally the Conservative Party, which you felt the need to rebrand as “The Harper Government” once elected). Perhaps the fact that Trudeau has been a dedicated and loyal member of his party is threatening to you.

No one would blame you for being intimidated by someone 12 years your junior, and who received 80% of his party’s support in the first vote. Then there is the obvious; in our society, a man who is young, attractive, articulate and open to new ideas is much more appealing than a man, uh, hmm…. who isn’t.

Let’s face it, your brand of “leading”, which more closely resembles “dictatorship” is dated. Your regime would fit in nicely with Diefenbaker’s. Welcome to the 21st Century, where taxpayers like more support for the Environment, the Arts, Education and a little less importance on supporting your corporate cronies.

I would like to say that I believe our government can do better, and show leadership, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Although we are years away from an election (unfortunately), you have authorized attack-style election ads. Do you really thing the Canadian voter is that simple? It’s not our style. It never will be.

Why not earn your office through integrity, innovation and class, instead of degrading yourself and smearing the competition? Why not try to relate to the people you govern? And I don’t mean by playing The Beatles. All you have to do is look South to see a man elected to the highest office who people can identify with. Canada has become the laughing-stock of the free world, thanks to RoboCalls. But at least you were able to throw an intern under that bus.

What it comes down to is a bully has to put others down to feel better about themselves. If this week is any indication, I wonder how low your opinion is of yourself.

Yours in Democracy,

Sarah

Looking for a Good Friday

/ Sarah / 1 Comment

It’s been quite a week.

Whenever a holiday rolls around, it seems like time moves twice as quickly and my list of things to accomplish is twice as long. In the case of this week, we are down a day as well. I really enjoy Easter for a number of reasons, and look forward to it all winter long.

I wanted to be mindful of the religious meaning of this week; to take things in stride and be flexible when something popped up. But for some reason, it was the “Let’s See How Much Shit Sarah Can Tolerate Week”. Unfortunately, I didn’t get that memo.

Monday to Thursday was filled with tests and challenges. Kids who were seeing how far they could push each other, and me; days at work that went from slow and monotonous to being assigned a mountain of work; barely speaking to my husband, and not because we didn’t want to talk, but because he was just as busy as I was. Trying to sympathize, empathize and take the high road.

A friend of my was caught in a bind regarding the care of her horses, and being faced with no alternatively, I offered to help her out. It was something I found myself looking forward to! Which did help somewhat with the ongoing frustrations of the week.

Each time I looked at these events as challenges I could deal with. The kids were tired, and coming down with colds so I tried to get them to bed sooner. Well, I tried – they argued and resisted and ended up going to be a the regular time. I tried to think of improvements at work that could fill my down time and worked efficiently when the work load suddenly doubled. I gave a lot of thought to how we could accommodate the various schedules over the Easter Weekend so that everyone was happy.

That’s when things really started to hit the skids.

Every now and then, I find I go through a couple of days, or in this case – a week, where I could say “Hey, How are you today?” and the person I’m speaking to would hear “WHAT THE F— IS YOUR PROBLEM?” I’ve been told this is a problem for Virgos, so when I saw it starting to rear its ugly head, I made a point of gearing down and measuring my words. Sympathize, empathize, high road…… Rinse and repeat.

Yeah, that bombed.

So by Thursday afternoon, two people thought I was a Grade A bitch, ironically, the two people I had gone out of my way to accommodate. Massive FAIL. In both cases, the exchanges ended with me removing myself from the conversation so I didn’t say what was really on my mind.

On Thursday afternoon, I’m fighting my way through the throngs of people. People who leave their cart in the middle of an aisle in a grocery store so they can look for FRIED ONIONS THREE FREAKIN’ AISLE OVER! People banging in to you, and your cart, which is overflowing. People who think the day before a long weekend is the BEST time to catch up with their neighbors, five feet inside the store doors.

Throughout my tour at the grocery store, I noticed two women; one about my age and her daughter, who would be the same age as First Born Son. I noticed them look at me in the meat section. Then again in the frozen foods. I could feel someone looking at me a couple more times, and thought I was getting a complex.

Finally I navigate the humanity that is a grocery store at 5 p.m. on Maundy Thursday, and I end up in the line behind these two women. They look at me, look at each other, and then START WHISPERING.

Folks, I nearly lost my mind right there. After trying so hard to not feel negative, to try and look at things from other peoples’ points of view and trying help out friends and family who have need help throughout the week – only to get slammed, I was ready to put my fist through their carton of eggs. Very. Ready. “WHAT THE F— IS YOUR PROBLEM?” was on the tip of my tongue – and I would have meant to say it!

As we crept toward the cashier, and I started unloading my groceries, when the mother spun around, leaned in towards me and said,

“Your hair ROCKS! I LOVE it!!!!” with the biggest smile I had seen all week. The daughter, behind her, was smiling and nodding vigorously.

In a instant I felt horrible for being such a mental bitch to her, combined with a mix of feeling flattered and pleased, because one does not expect to receive compliments, never mind in public. I gave her a big smile and said thank you. She and her daughter continued to converse, but now I could hear some of it, “awesome” came up a couple of times.

Once I got in my vehicle, I thought about how things can spin on a dime. All week I had worked so hard to make everyone else happy, and  not a single person recognized me for it, or in fact, told me I had made things worse. Here, I go about doing my own thing, and a complete stranger comes up to me and gives ME a compliment; something that I myself have made a habit of doing to other people.

And the hair….

2013-03-28 17.11.51

 

Totally ROCKED!!!!

Happy Easter, Happy Passover!

 

 

 

The Joy of Boys

/ Sarah / 2 Comments

These conversations actually happened in my house.

Honestly, I can’t make this stuff up…..

 

Second Born Son: Having a girlfriend is expensive.

Me: How do you know this?

SBS: Everybody knows this!

Me: (Ok, I’ll indulge him) Hmm. So how is having a girlfriend expensive?

SBS: You have to buy the gifts for their birthday, for Christmas, Valentine’s Day. So I’ve figured it out.

Me: Oh, have you?

SBS: Yup. I’m going to break up with them. Right before their birthday or Christmas or Valentine’s day. 

Me: Oh, you think that’s going to work?

SBS: Yup. Then I won’t have to buy them any presents.

Me: Well, I think that’s only going to work for you once or twice, then the word is going to get out.

SBS: What word?

Me: That you are a lousy boyfriend!

 

Followed by this gem…

 

First Born Son: I think I’ve figured out the Valentine’s Day thing.

Me: What’s that?

FBS: It’s not what you do on the 14th that counts…

Me: Ok… (I’ve got some hope here!)

FBS: Ya, it’s what you do on the 15th! And besides, everything is on sale then!

 

I can see I have my work cut out for me!

Passing on Perfection

/ Sarah / 1 Comment

There was a conversation about my sons earlier this week. The person I spoke with made a profound comment.

“Your sons are just perfect.”

My heart sank.

Crazy, right? Mothers around the world would love to have their offspring branded as “perfect” and yet all I can think is “NOOOOO!” I thanked her and dismissed the comment at the same time. After all, there is no way IN. HELL. that my kids are perfect. Their mother certainly isn’t.

I’ve had issues with that word, that concept, for a while now. I don’t believe in “perfect”. Perfect is limiting, unattainable, and damaging. Lifetimes have been wasted in the quest for perfection. It’s a conversation I’ve had with The Big Guy throughout our relationship. He’s a big believer in “perfect”. As you can imagine, it makes for interesting chit chat.

The perfect couple, right? WRONG!

The perfect couple, right? WRONG!

He is driven by details, and is brutally hard on himself. He pours over the fine points. I am deadline driven. I can accomplish a huge amount in a very short period of time. Together we are a great combination, even if we don’t come from he same point of view. Perfection is something he values, and I’m still wondering why he ever wanted to be with me since I know that I don’t rank very high on the Perfect Scale. Nor would I care to.

You learn so much more from a mistake. I don’t want perfect children. They would be very uninteresting. They are better prepared for life with the flaws that they have and learning how to overcome or embrace them.

Perfection is a relative term. My idea of a perfect evening could be pjs, a bowl of popcorn, a great movie and a blanket to cuddle under. Yours might be an evening at a restaurant with friends. Which is actually perfect? Is my vision wrong because it doesn’t match yours? My definition the following night could very well change. Was my first night not “perfect” because I picked a new “perfect” the next time?

THAT'S more like it!

THAT’S more like it!

Once perfection is achieved, which in and of itself is almost impossible for the majority of us, the next mammoth task is to maintain perfection. Any less is failure, which perfectionists know full well, is the antithesis of perfection.

Now please don’t misunderstand, I believe in putting your best effort forth. I think its important to have a personal best. I have looked a photographs I have captured, which at the time were my best, and now I can do better. It’s about growth and the continued development of me. Tomorrow I will do better than I did today, just as I am better today than I was yesterday.

Perfection is uninteresting, predictable. Perfection is the starting place of downfall and disappointment.

Give me flawed, real, genuine. It speaks to me and is a far better motivator.

Reality Check

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

A pause here.

Instead of the funny, sarcastic and opinionated musings you are accustomed to, I need to not play lightly on the news that 20 children and six of their care givers and teachers were murdered this week.

Two weeks before Christmas. Not that there is any time on the calendar that is accommodating to such horror.

A few short points.

1. Until Mental Health gets the attention it needs in society and specifically in the political arena, there will be more acts of frustration, desperation and retaliation. Rightly, or wrongly.

2. The media needs to smarten the HELL UP. I cannot imagine the thought process it takes for a “journalist” to ask a coroner, “What were the children wearing?” Jesus. Really?

3. Legislation steeped in history, created in a time that required citizens to bear arms to defend themselves against predators on four legs, and occasionally two, needs to be revisited and examined to reflect today’s needs. YOUR RIGHT TO BEAR ARMS IS USURPED BY MY RIGHT TO LIVE.

4. Less about the shooter. More about the victims. This is not the fast track to fame!!

While Canada is not innocent of murders involving guns – we cannot compare to the track record set by the U.S.

I look forward to what President Obama has in mind when he says change is coming regarding gun laws. If it is as well handled as his message to the families and the community of Newtown this evening, then Americans can start looking forward to more peaceful times.

Peace on Earth. Good Will to All Humankind.

(We’ll get back to the funny in a couple of days.)

Roughing It

/ Sarah / 3 Comments

I know, I know. It’s been so long, it’s like we broke up.

A lot of life hit all at once and instead of throwing out a half-baked blog, I thought I would “take in” everything that was going on; process it, and then share.

To keep it manageable, I will offer the happenings in chronological order, so you can appreciate the “AWESOME” that has been going on.

~~~

When we bought this house, we knew there were things we would have to replace and update. We started right away with the decor and then set our sights on windows and insulation. The furnace was 30 years old, but seemed to work well. We knew at some point we would have to look at updating it as well.

Last year was our second year with oil-fired hot water and we didn’t have a single problem. This fall, The Big Guy arranged to have system  serviced, and the company we purchased oil from (the same company the previous owners used) was contacted for the service. He called before we needed the system turned on. They said they would come as soon as they could, but since a service isn’t as important as a “No Heat” call, they had to handle those customers first.

Completely understandable.

Two weeks later, it’s getting chilly and we’ve had a dusting of snow, and still no service. We contacted another company who not only agreed to be out within two days, but offered an incentive to switch with discount oil rates (you had me at ‘I’ll be there in two days.’). On the designated date the reps were in the basement creating the appropriate amount of noise required to service this beast.

Then. It stopped.

Then – I heard “Oooooh”.

Then. I went downstairs.

The two men were standing in the furnace room with their hands on their hips gazing into the furnace. Being the joker I am, I said, “Hey there, how’s it going?”

“Well. Not so good.”

“As long as you don’t tell me the furnace is done! Ha!”

** crickets **

Apparently we were heating a house with little more than a fire pit in the basement. I wish I was exaggerating right now. I had to sign off that the furnace was condemned and that I would not try to start it. (Death wish??)

After sharing this development with The Big Guy, I promptly started calling the natural gas provider, as we decided this was the time to convert to a more reliable and consistently priced fuel.

<PAUSE>

Allow me to take the opportunity to marvel at the power a monopoly has. We will not be hooked up to natural gas until January 31 2013. No urgency. No way to fast track. No interest in accommodating a new customers. WE ARE NATURAL GAS – SECOND ONLY TO GOD – UNLESS YOU ARE A NO HEAT CALL AND THEN YOU’D LIKE US TO BE GOD!!!!! MMWAAAAHAAA!!

<PLAY>

I also called three local heating companies to see how soon we could get quotes on a new system. I KNEW we would hear back quickly, since my initial experience with our original oil provider was that a No Heat call was a priority, right?!

WRONG!

Out of the three companies contacted, only one got back to us right away. When the owner understood that we were without heat and noted that the temperature was due to fall as the week progressed, he was at our house within 7 hours. We had a quote within 24 hours.

I don’t want to say anything overly negative about the other two companies we contacted, but suffice it to say this column is still in full effect and that when it comes to supporting our Neighbors, our Neighbors would have us freeze!

We waited three days to give the other companies a chance to come through. We were a No Heat call and I couldn’t find too many companies that could give a hoot! The temperature got lower. We sent the boys to my parents for a couple of days, because falling asleep in a freezing house (10 degrees one morning!!!) isn’t pleasant. My parents offered that we stay there too, but we were as stubborn as an old couple in Florida – we were not leaving even if the hurricane is a comin’. (Truthfully, we needed the internet service.) We fired up the fireplace, but due to the multi level layout of the house, it took days to get the heat up to the main level, never mind the bedrooms. The odor, however, is still evident two weeks later!

My father-in-law walked into the house to check on us and promptly walked out. He drove 20 minutes back to his home to bring back two large space heaters. Let’s hear it for family!!!

In short, we went with the first company, which was the right move both in price and in service. The furnace was installed with the required amount of dust, noise and intrusion that is necessary for a major renovation. The entire process was completed at 8 p.m. the night before we were to fly out. Nothing like drama!!

Fly out?

Yup! STAY TUNED! Unless of course the Mayans were right – in which case, this is the ultimate cliff hanger!!!!

 

Birthday Boy

/ Sarah / 2 Comments

What is summer without a party or two?

For those of us in Boweryville, the first (so far) of the year was last week, as we celebrated the 80th Birthday of The Big Guy’s uncle. This birthday is particularly important to me and The Big Guy since Uncle B is the reason we met.

 

Back in The Day when I was young and naive and lived on a farm, my family and I attended the Anniversary Sunday of our local country church. Following the service was a potluck meal, which was the pride of the ladies who lived up and down the Concession. Homemade salads, heaped platters of meats waiting to be tucked into fresh rolls; it was as much a feast for the eyes as it was the palate.

My contribution was a chocolate cake (surprise, surprise). As we enjoyed fellowship, a neighbour to the south, Uncle B, came up to me to compliment me on my dessert. I was hugely flattered. As I knew this gentleman was a bachelor and his family lived a distance away, I thought I’d make him an offer.

“If you tell me when your birthday is, I’ll make one for you!” I exclaimed.

“July 12th,” he replied.

So on the morning of one of the hottest days of the year, I got up, started the oven, and made a chocolate cake for my new fan, the birthday boy. When the cake was cooled and iced, Dad offered to drive me three farms over to deliver the cake. Little Sister had nothing better to do, so she came along for the ride.

As we drove up the lane way, we noticed a tractor heading back the lane way, past the main bank barn further along to the back fields. We followed the tractor and arrived at a smaller cottage style house and smaller bank barn. There we saw a trio of people, as well as a fourth on a second tractor in the field behind the house.

I was about to meet my future husband, and inlaws.

All I could think of was that the cake I was holding was going to melt in my very hands. The older couple were concerned that  a) they forgot it was the actual birthday of Uncle B, and  b) that they didn’t think they had room in their fridge to keep my confection from becoming a puddle.

Our exchange was short. The driver of the tractor we followed back the lane was indeed The Big Guy, and Uncle B was behind the house, round baling and giving a small wave of the hand as he went past our group. I handed over the cake and we left.

“That guy liked you,” said LS.

“Who???” I asked incredulously.

“The guy wearing the necklace.” she said. (Referring to The Big Guy who was a slick City Boy – gold chain et al.)

I had no recollection of what the guy was wearing, what he thought of me or what his name was, even though formal introductions were conducted.

A few weeks later, we would meet again, thanks to Uncle B. The rest, as they say, is history.

25 years ago history.

Hard to believe baking a cake could land you a husband! Happy Birthday Uncle B. Happy Anniversary Big Guy.

Love you both!!