Loving the World

                                      ~The most powerful weapon in the Universe is Love~

Every day there is something horrendous happening on our planet. If it's not from natural disasters, like the forest fires in my area, it's hurricanes in the Caribbean, or earthquakes in Mexico, and if it's not that, it's man made atrocities, which are even more tragic, since those can be prevented.

And while the only thing we can do to avoid some of the natural disasters, are to move in the direction of green environmental practices, which hopefully will restore our earth's balance, unfortunately, there is little we can do to assist in situations like what the Muslim's of the Rakhine state, are experiencing in Myanmar right now. These are crimes against humanity and it makes my heart ache and eyes fill with tears.

I am not rich, nor do I have any fame, but I know that as a soul, on an earthly experience, I am limitless and so lately I've been praying for an answer as to how I can help the world. I am a mom, and I like to think that I'm a writer too and while this tiny blog isn't much, right now it's the only voice I have.

                                      I feel compelled to write, but what do I say?

And then, after I said goodbye to the kids this morning I decided to take some time for me and sit. Just sit and breathe. It's been so hard to meditate lately. It seems like there is always something more pressing to do; laundry, making meals, cleaning bathrooms, harvesting food and processing food from our garden, but today, something was drawing me to my mat.

Our kids, Victoria, William, and Kathryn waiting for the bus....I miss them but they love school!

I sat for a bit but could not focus on my breath so I found my lap top, plugged it in near my burgundy meditation cushions and googled, "meditating with Deepak." And that is when I was given the answer to my prayer; Dr.Deepak Chopra reached out and used HIS gifts for connection and touched me.

"Thank you Deepak!"

As Deepak says in the following meditation, we CAN make a difference in the world because we are all inexplicably woven together and connected, (I guess that is why I've been crying so much lately) and any love we give to others, or ourselves, ripples out into the world.

Hitting myself on the forehead!!!

With that insight, or rather that reminder, 'cause I KNOW THIS STUFF, but like reminding our kids to be kind and share, (something they know intrinsically and usually do everyday) I had to be reminded that we DO touch each other and we CAN help each other as a result.

I CAN make a difference in the world today.


How, you may ask?

Well, it's so simple it makes me cry again for the ease of it.

It doesn't take any money, hardly any effort, and only a glimpse of time. It does take awareness though and an intention.

An intention to...................... Love the World.

It's as simple as this; to love the world, you simple love yourself.

Yes, that's right.

You just need to love yourself and how hard can that be?

You'd think it would be easy because most of us think about US, first? It's a survival thing isn't it?


Well, obviously it's very hard for many of us because if we were more loving to ourselves, and felt like we were worthy of that love, there wouldn't be the wars, the crimes against humanity, the throwing of hateful tweets, out via our social media; there would just be harmony.

If you stop and think about our world leaders, who are the ones bringing peace and who are the ones who are creating havoc?  I've been shaking my head all year watching Donald Trump and trying to figure out his intention when he says something hurtful or tweets something inappropriate. And also the leader of North Korea, Kim Jong-un. What is going on in these men's brains? I'm trying to think logically but maybe that is the problem....

and as a mom, I just want to pull their heads together and whisper, "be kind, be loving."

Do you think they were truly loved and accepted as babies, as children, as young people growing up, or did they have something to prove to their mentors, their parents, and their support system? I may be wrong,  and I'm certainly no psychologist but often when my children strike out at others, it's because they aren't feeling good about themselves. Often, when I just draw them close for a hug and a soft talk, I can feel their shoulders ease and they smile out into the world again.

My gut says it's that simple and yet, why do we human beings continue to not choose that path?

Why is there so much suffering? Is this just the human condition?

I know that I have felt not worthy of love many times in my life. Often that is why I'm running around trying to make my life appear perfect so others will think I'm more lovable and I'm also trying to impress them with my ability to juggle all the balls.. Ha! I'm a terrible juggler, but I'm pretty good at watching them drop and finally getting some insights.

I'm conscious of it but instead of sitting on my mat this week, I flew around doing everything but.....hey, I know I'm preaching to the choir here, why else would you be reading this blog, but really, this is one of the reasons I haven't been blogging much this year. I'm trying to figure all this stuff out....and then I remember, oh right. You don't have to figure it all out. Hope.....you just need to love yourself, experience the journey, and love those around you.

 It's that easy!

If you can relate at all, to some of my rambling thoughts and my solution to helping our earth, then please join me this week doing two things:

1. Join me in being free of judgement. (let's call ourselves minimalist in this regard)  For today, let no judgements form in your head...or touch your heart. (If you are like me this will be hard to do but the peace that comes is HUGE!) When a judgement comes, observe it and let it go...because you know we aren't just judging others...oh no, we are judging ourselves. Ouch!

AND number 2.....

2. Take 15 minutes and sit on your mat. (If you don't have one, find a comfy cushion and a special place that you can call your own) Let Deepak come into your home and open up our heart chakra. Connect with your sacred breathe and repeat the heart mantra, "YUM."

When we fill ourselves with love, the energy moves out into the world

When I heard the mantra Deepak suggested, to open our heart chakra, I had to laugh because that is a word I say around here a lot! Especially this time of year; when I'm out in my garden and biting into a crisp, delicious apple straight off the tree, or finding a ripe cherry tomato waiting just for me. Yum is my most used words with all the harvesting going on so maybe that is why my heart chakra has been so open and I've been more sensitive to all the events in the world. BUT now, I am going to send it within and I KNOW, it will ripple out into the world.

Yum! yum! yum!

The last thing we can do is pray. I know it sounds so insignificant but I believe in the power of prayer. It works daily in my life...after all I wouldn't have been reminded of this simple lesson today.

And now my dear blogging family, let's meditate. Find a comfy pillow, or sit in a chair with your feet touching the ground, palms up on your knees and click play on your computer. Here's the link to Deepak's meditation, "Loving the World."

Ahhhh....that's better. And with a smile and a wave for my little people will be home soon, I say goodbye. Thanks for connecting with me today! I can feel that connection moving out into the world and touching the whole planet.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Namaste,
Hope

P.S. And in case you wonder about my judgements in this post, I'm letting them go...they are an observation and no more. We are all in the process and our on our own journey!...even if we are together in the big scheme of things....hugs to you all!

Cheese Enchiladas and Reflections from Summer

"Whoever hath a seed time of grace pass over his soul, shall have his harvest also of joy."
                                                                                                                             ~William Gurnall~

I won’t lie, the first day of fall was not a joyful one for me. It’s not that I don’t love the autumn season, for I do. Ah, the cooler days with the fresh smell of apples ripening in the air, the crunch of leaves under my feet and the scarlet reds, brilliant yellow and oranges, are normally a welcoming delight for me.

 It’s just that this year, I didn’t feel like I’d had enough summer.

Forest fires burned relentlessly, throughout our province, without any sign of abatement due to the hot and dry weather we experienced. For most of July and August I would wake early to the acrid smell of smoke, drifting through my slightly opened bedroom doors. I knew before even rising, from the dim light filtering through the curtains, that instead of crystal blue skies, I would find a grey and white blanket heavy above me, choking me from the beauty of summer, making me feel like I was swimming under water, unable to catch my breath.

Grace sitting on a picnic table during our camping trip...you can see the haze of smoke hovering over the lake

And what made it even worse was being imprisoned with our young children, in fear of damaging their lungs due to the poor air –quality, we spent our days pent up inside our often blistering house. The air conditioner, which we had installed after the staggering hot summer of 1998, the summer I had been pregnant with our now 18 year old son, decided to work intermittently this summer.

Usually on the hottest of days it would decide to freeze up and we would be left sweltering, like hostages in the worst of prisons. Purchasing a new one was out of the question, since we were about to send that same 18 year old off to University and like some rich parents (we're not!) of entitled kids, (he's not) we had agreed to pay for his school expenses.

One night in summer I woke to the smell of burning wood and when I glanced outside, the moon was full and almost orange from all the smoke in the air

So on those days when the fine particles in the smoke were most toxic,  the kids and I spent hours inside playing every board game in the house, reading countless books until our eyes were red and sore and figuring out which puzzles had the most missing pieces. Occasionally, feeling trapped and isolated, I would turn on the television and catch a bit of National news, and that’s when a heavier oppression hit me; our interior region was making National headlines.

News stories, showing forest fires ablaze and people fleeing their homes for safer ground, not knowing  if they would have a home to return to drifted into our family room, like the smoke in the air around us. Compounding my depression over the conditions we were living under, a thick layer of guilt grimly covered me.

We were having a good summer compared to them.

Then if I clicked the remote just five channels over to capture images rolling from CNN, real fear encompassed me. Concerns that, “Rocket Man,” whom the United States President, Donald Trump, called the dictator, Kim Jong-un, of North Korea, would catapult one of his intercontinental ballistic missiles, this one armed with nuclear weapons, and our world would erupt into war, ending life as we know it.

 Well, let’s just say life period.

So yeah, summer wasn’t great and I’m not greeting fall with higher expectations, since fall leads to 

winter, when our valley is immersed in inversion type weather systems, where we are permanently

 trapped under dark cloud and experience bitterly cold days.

I'm not ready for that yet! I didn't get enough sun yet to keep me going through our darkest months.

 Wait though, our eight year old son William, and his six year old twin sisters, Kathryn and Victoria,

 have all come running into the house now and are excitedly calling my name. “Mommy, Mommy,

 you won’t guess what we found in the raspberry patch?” Pardon me as I put down the lid of my

 laptop and see what they want.

 Sliding my reading glasses down my nose, I peer at their animated faces and see that my curly,

 blonde headed Will is holding something cupped in his hands. The little girls, are glued next to him,

 as if they are all one unit, holding this single item up for perusal. “Remember how you thought there

 was a squash growing under the raspberries?” Will said, and I answered “yeah?” “Well,” they all

 chimed in together, “it wasn’t a squash.” And then they extended a perfectly round, luminous, orb,

 circled with tiny rivers of green towards me. 

Suddenly, looking at our children’s shining, exuberant faces, and then down at the round and glowing

cantaloupe they were holding, I was reminded of the goodness of earth and the abundant lessons
always springing forth; from the ground and from the innocent joy of our children.

Behind the children and to the right, you can see the cantaloupe plant..which I thought was a squash, growing out under the newly planted raspberries....the seed must have been in the compost mixture I used to top up the raised bed....unexpected gifts from the earth and answers to a prayer to bring hope to dim season

Maybe this fall is going to be better than expected

Please join me in saying goodbye to summer, as we sip the last of the ice tea and make some cheese 

enchiladas. If you want an easy meal, this is it! At this time of year, I'm really busy roasting and
freezing tomatoes, making apple sauce, blanching and freezing the last of the beans so this quick and
easy type dinner, fits the bill perfectly. Also, as you may know from reading my blog, our
son Harrison recently left for University. While I've been sad to see him go, since he was a meat lover
and would often groan when I would make a veggie dish, it's nice to be able to make something
more of us love without the negative vibes. Sorry Harry....but something good comes from every
season in life. (we miss you in every other way!)

Our vegetable loving Victoria next to her garden...the bees love her zinnias!

I hope you too are looking forward to fall and the goodness that comes from each season. 

Now let's make some enchiladas.......

(Years ago, I was an accredited La Leche League leader and this recipe was found in one of their books, "Whole Foods for the Whole Family.")

Cheese Enchiladas

Ingredients

Sauce:

3 tbsp of oil

1 to 2 tbsp of chili powder 

2 tbsp of flour

2 cups water

1 tbsp vinegar

1 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp oregano

1/2 tsp sea salt

Bean Filling:

2 cups cooked pinto beans

1/4 cup chopped green onions

1 cup cottage cheese

1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper

1/4 cup chopped almonds

1/2 cup wheat germ

1/2 cup chopped black olives

Tortillas

8 flour (see recipe below to make from scratch)

2 tbsp oil

Toppings

1 cup shredded cheddar cheese

1 cup plain yogurt

2 tbsp chopped onion

Directions:

If you really want to stretch your budget, use dried beans. To make 2 cups of cooked pinto beans you need 3/4 of a cup of dried beans. This little bag for $2.00 has enough dried beans for MANY meals!

Combine sauce ingredients in saucepan; mix well. Bring to a boil; reduce heat. Simmer for 5 minutes

Combine filling ingredients in bowl, mashing beans and mixing well. Fry tortillas briefly in oil in 

skillet. spoon filling onto tortillas; roll to enclose filling. Place seam side down in shallow baking

 dish. Pour sauce over enchiladas; top with 1 cup shredded cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 

minutes, spooning sauce over top occasionally. Serve with topping of yogurt and onion. May

 substitute shredded sharp cheese for cottage cheese, sunflower seeds fro almonds or green olives for 

black olives. Or if you wish omit olives, wheat germ, yogurt, or onion.

This is a quick, nutritious, and EASY meal, not to mention inexpensive for a crowd. Make the sauce

 and filling ahead of time and you can make it easily when your family gathers. Put some rice on, 

add some tortillas chips and you have a delicious meal for those you love.

The last watermelon of summer, and a smattering of summer corn, all adds to this change of season meal...well this is a meal for all season but boy did it taste good sitting outside on the last of summer

 

Will and his corn. While this crop would probably do better directly in the ground, we still harvested many ears of corn from this little 4x4 crop space...plus we now have seeds to try it again next year

 

If you want to take it to another level of being sustainable, make your own flour tortillas. (also from the recipe book above)

Flour Tortillas or Chapathis

Ingredients

4 cups whole wheat flour

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon baking powder (opt)

1/4 to 1/2 cup butter or oil

1 cup warm water

Directions:

Combine dry ingredients in bowl. Work in butter or oil...this is optional as well. Add enough water

soft, pliable dough. Knead lightly on floured surface.Divide into 6 balls, let rest, covered for 15- 20 

minutes. Roll into thin circles, between sheets of floured, waxed paper. Bake in ungreased, heavy 

skillet, or griddle, until brown specks appear on cooking side. Cook over and cook on the other side. 

These store well in fridge or freezer. Makes 16 servings.

Sadie and I... aka Sweet Girl at the end of summer

"You carry Mother Earth within you. She is not outside of you. Mother Earth is not just your
environment. In that insight of inter-being, it is possible to have real communication with the
earth, which is the highest form of prayer." ~Thich Nhat Hanh~


Thank you for coming to visit me today.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

The End of the Road

                    "I blinked and you were gone, around the corner and out of my vision"

The rain dropped meditatively against the windshield and dim light shone through the cab of the truck  I was driving. The roar of the engine was white noise and the bouncing seat a gentle cradle, as I rumbled along the highway, and although I was acutely aware of all of my senses, I felt as if I were floating on a fluffy grey cloud.  The air was oxygen rich with the dampness, accentuating the rich smell of oil permeating the truck’s cab. I turned the large black steering wheel to meet the curves in the road, allowing it to ground me to earth and my rhythmic heart beat.

Thumping steadily, the windshield wipers relaxed me into a deeper peaceful state and I drifted along, casually noticing how brilliant the green foliage was blurring by my side window, a sharp contrast to the grey of the day. Suddenly large buckets of rain started thundering overhead, and although I turned the wipers on high, they did nothing to clear my vision of the road.  Panicked, I geared down but it was too late, a millisecond later I knew I was about to hit something dark and ominous. A horrendous crash filled my brain and then everything went black.

I awoke totally disoriented, trying to catch my breath and assess my surroundings. “Where was I?”  reverberated through my brain as I sat up and opened my eyes. Early morning light filtered through my bedroom venetians, centering me and I collapsed against my nest of pillows. Oh! it was only a dream.  Picking up my cell phone from my bedside table, I saw it was 6:28 a.m. and the date was September 14, 2017.

I sighed and laid back, pulling the comforter up to my chin thinking gratefully that I still had another half an hour before I had to get up and get the kids ready for school. My husband David was still sleeping quietly, laying on the bitter edge of our queen size bed.  I always tease him about sleeping on the edge, and he says, "yep, that’s my life, living on the edge." Breathing deeply and sighing a second time, I closed my eyes and furrowed my brow, trying to remember the last vestiges of my fleeting dream. Who was I in that dream because it felt like I was there and yet, I was looking through someone else's eyes? What a weird sensation and the more I tried to capture the images, they floated even farther away, like a balloon let loose in the wind, drifting steadily upward. 

 Then I remembered that today was the anniversary of my Dad’s death.

 September 14, 1965.

I’ll never know what happened to him. They say that it had been a hot and dry summer in Hope that year and on the day of his death it had rained cats and dogs. The speculation was that the #1 Highway that went through the Fraser Canyon, where  he had been delivering oil in his Esso company truck, was probably slick, and despite his excellent driving skills, the conditions had been extremely dangerous. The thought was that he was coming too fast towards the American-Creek bridge and when he tried to slow down, his truck hydroplaned into the side of it, flipping the cab of the truck forward and that action, caused a neck injury. We will never know. The first people to the accident were fearful of the truck exploding, so hastily they moved my unconscious Dad out of the collapsed cab, and in doing so, damaged his spinal cord further, cutting off his airways.

 He died on the side of the road.

 "I blinked and you were gone, around the corner and out of my vision"

My dad Marvyn and my mom Ethel...wearing their matching winter shirts

For years I lived in the shadow of grief, feeling orphaned and alone. Sympathy shrouded me as friends and family whispered, “oh poor Debbie, five is too young to lose a Dad.” I’m older now than he was when he died at age forty five and I understand that the end of his road was the beginning of mine. I guess that is why I write this blog. That is why I have been working on putting my story into memoir form.

Life is precious!

We never know when our road will end. With that knowledge, I scribble away. I write here on my blog, I keep journals, I make lists, I write outlines for potential books, and I've been involved  in a writing group for over a year now, composing little vingettes from my life, in hopes that finally, FINALLY, I will put all the pieces of the puzzle together into a semblance of  something worthy of a lifetime.

Having this blog has been fun, as it's my way to pass on favourite recipes and little stories about my family; my thoughts and ideas about our changing world and how becoming sustainable will help to heal our planet. I want to hold up a candle of peace as well, for our children and their children to follow. Our oldest children will remember most of the stories  but our youngest, our last four, may not, so this is a piece of me for them. After all, who am I kidding, I'm more than half way through my life (if I live to be a centurion) and my path will end. As my husband's dad, Ron Reynolds, who was in the cemetery business, used to say with a cynical grin,

 "none of us get out of here alive!"

Some days, my brain is so full of marbles rolling around, that I wonder if anything coherent is being churned out but I continue to write. I write for my Dad too. Yes he drove truck for a living but he was so much more. He was a true Renaissance man. A man of honour and integrity. He was hardworking and would do anything for his family. I can remember going to bed at night to the sweet, woodsy aroma of his pipe tobacco in the air and hearing him tapping away on his black, Underwood typewriter, in the small alcove above my room. After his death, we found love poems he had written for my mom, for his children and other deeply moving pieces. Other nights, I would fall asleep to the gentle, hypnotic melodies lilting into my room, while he played his violin or the accordion, both of which were self taught.

Literature and music weren't his only passions. In the last years, he enjoyed shooting family movies on his Kodak 8 mm camera and piecing those memories together. My favourite times, were family movie night, when we would sit in our darkened living room and laugh over his latest film. He was a man's man. He loved sports and was a dedicated hockey coach. In the last year of his life we found countless letters he had written to encourage our little town to build an ice rink and after his death we heard that those words were instrumental in making it a reality. He had also coached soccer with his brother Al. Their team had won a very prestigious title in the Fraser valley, highly coveted in those days. Then there were my floating memories of being a young child and hearing my Dad yelling louder than anyone at my older sister's basketball games. He was so proud of his athletic girls. He was a ladies man too and I know with his good looks and ease on the dance floor, that he left many women envying my mom, who was the love of his life. 

My young parents...before us

For years I felt fearful that I'd never get my story written, so much of it has been wrapped up with the end of my Dad's life, but in the last ten years his whispers have grown stronger. He has been encouraging me from the other side of the curtain to follow my bliss and get my writing going. Just as he was yelling support to my sisters at their sporting activities, he is now telling me to pick the pieces up and write.

This will be the gift  I leave for my children; for my Dad's grandchildren and beyond,

                           because you know,  the road goes ever on.

This blog post is in memory of my Dad, "Marvyn Derwent CLark (April 1920- Sept 14, 1965)

Click on the hyper-link "Don Messer's final song, "Til we meet again," if you can't see it above.

Until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope

How to Say Goodbye? and Peanut Butter Flax Cookies

I've had him for eighteen years. You'd think that would be enough, but it's not. And yet, I'm ever so mindful that I have been blessed. I am a blessed, beyond measure mom. I'm blessed, because I know there are women out there, who would have given anything for just one day holding their baby.

There are women out there, who will never know the joy of watching their baby take his first step, say mama for the first time, watch him turn back with a smile and a wave as he heads off to kindergarten and finally say,  "I love you," as he leans down for a hug and a kiss before heading off to University.

And so with that awareness and with tears in my eyes, I say goodbye. Not just for me but for those women who will never even have the chance to say, "hello." It's a knowledge that fills me up with abundant gratitude and humbleness, it spills out of my heart with vast appreciation for all I've been given, so that on days like this, I remember, it could have been different.

I could have been that other woman.

Also, Harrison was a baby that almost wasn't.

I was in my late 30's when he was born. Very late. In fact, I turned 39 a month before he was born and in those days, well even in these days, there is this belief that once you hit 40, it's game over as far as fertility goes. He made it in what most would call under the wire since most couples choose to have their families before they hit that "Four oh" number. 

Another reason Harrison was almost not on earth was because well, I had a husband who was content and happy with our three children. We had our lovely daughter Alyssa Rae, and our son Clark Douglas (named after my dad and David's grandfather) and even had a "bonus," baby, "Mitchell David," who was born when I was thirty six. (David was 37)

When I watched our three kids have their snacks around the colourful, little Tykes picnic table in our kitchen, it always felt like someone was missing. I couldn't explain this to anyone, but it felt like a deep void in our family. Our best friends at the time, all felt that a two child family was perfect and they often referred to our family of five as BIG, and they were in awe as to how we managed it.

Also, my in laws felt we had pushed the limits when we had had three children. Certainly, my mother in law didn't understand why I would give up my career and have a third baby. She shook her head and said, "if we had had a choice, we would have only had two children." Hmmm, I often wondered how their daughter and son, who were number 3 and 4 felt about THAT! Maybe they didn't even know that these were her feelings, or did they? Even my mom, who loved babies, felt like I had my hands full with our three and when I tried to share my dream of having one more baby, she didn't understand, even though I was HER number four baby.

But life has a way of flowing and finding it's natural progression and like a river, whose destiny is to meet the ocean, Harrison glimpsed an opening and quietly slipped through the curtain to find his way under my heart.

 He was meant to be.

That was a tough pregnancy for me emotionally, since most of my support system didn't understand my desire for another baby. They were all perplexed as to why we would have one more. Also, David spent most of those nine months very quiet. At first, he was concerned that with us being older, there would be health issues for the baby or myself but even after the amnio results assured us that our little one was perfect, he remained detached from me. I suppose in hindsight, he was trying to come to terms with having a larger family, one bigger than he had ever dreamed of, and of course, now that he was the main breadwinner, he was probably feeling stressed.

The moment Harrison was born though, two weeks early just before Christmas in 1998, it felt like he had always been with us. He was the sweetest baby and made these soft mewing noises as he settled into my arms. And if David had any misgivings of having another baby, they vanished when holding his son for the first time for he realized that he looked, EXACTLY like him.

Harrison Drew, finally in my arms. I knew this baby was meant to be!

The most peaceful, yet powerful thing is watching your strong husband sleep with your tiny baby..David and Harrison

Harrison with his classic pooh bear. I used to sing a little song to him, "Harrison Drew, Winnie the Pooh, what a sweet, sweet little babe."

 
In retrospect, little Harrison Drew's babyhood and childhood flew by. When you have many children, the focus is always moving and although it lingers on which ever child needs the most attention in the moment, or which ever child is shining the brightest, Harrison always found a way to lighten our household with his quick wit and brilliant humour and we paused to admire this lovely child as he grew. He was strong minded as well, so in that regard he was an easy child to raise because we knew exactly what he liked and did not like....and his stubbornness meant we couldn't sway him.

When Harrison arrived, he just completed our family nicely....four was our number for a long while

I'll never forget picking him up from preschool one time and he looked up at me and complained, "they made me do a craft today!" he wailed. And over his head, me with questioning eyes found his teacher Jennifer laughing. She explained that, "well, yes, we had him make a finger puppet today so he could participate when we read a special book at story time." I looked at his big blue eyes (they are now more green like mine) with their long lashes and had to laugh. Yes, this little boy knew exactly what he wanted in life and it was not doing crafts!

In this picture you can see that colourful picnic table in our kitchen...it always felt like someone was missing until Harrison arrived. Here are Harrison and Mitchell with Harrison's new birthday gift...fire engine

But he moved through his childhood with a determination of knowing what he wanted and that made it easy. When David picked him up from ski lessons another time, the ski instructor said, "your son doesn't want to follow the group or me for that matter," so David pulled him out of formal lessons and just had Harrison ski with him and his older brothers. Those boys were thrilled to teach their little brother how to find the best jumps and it was always a competition to go fast and see who had the highest air time. And even though his older brother received his second Dan is Tae know do at age 16, Harrison was happy with his black belt that he got when he was 12 and said, he was done with marital arts.

And when summer came, even though he had older siblings who were lifeguards and swim instructors, when I asked him if he wanted to finish his Red Cross program, (he only had one more level to complete) he said, "save the money, because I can swim well enough." He was always questioning the value of things, both in time and in money.

When it came to music, after playing violin for six years he knew definitively that he wanted to study percussion, even though my heart was set on him continuing to play the strings with his older brothers. He would tap on everything he could get his hands on until we switched him over to drum lessons which he took most of high school. And he knew soccer and basketball would be the only sports for him, even though he tried volleyball one season and said, "nope, not his sport." I think he would have really loved to have played Rugby too, but he was aware of the physical risks involved ...thank heavens he listened to that brain injury rant of mine!

He always had a thing for athletic shoes!...wearing his big brother's shoes!

And when it came time for him to decide which University to attend, it was no contest. He knew he wanted to take business and the University of Victoria, which is his older sister's Alma mater, and where his older brother Mitchell currently attends, was the best choice for him. Even though, there is a perfectly great University just down the road from our home, he was going to go away to attend school.

Some of our best family memories were on Vancouver Island...why am I surprised that he wants to attend University there?

Harrison on his graduation day, June 2017

 I've known for 18 years that this day would come. I've known all summer that it was almost upon my doorstep. Why is it always so hard to say goodbye when the time comes? This summer, as I would drive him to work, or on the return journey home, or when he and I were just hanging out in the family room, drinking some ice tea and chatting, I would tell him everything in my heart.

I asked Harrison to go and get a cabbage from the garden for coleslaw one night and he came up holding it like it was a basketball....had to take a picture of that 'cause this is another thing I will miss...watching him shine on the court

 Things like;

How to live life fully, experiencing everything and being your best self, but being mindful of others along the path. To appreciate the gift of a post secondary education and to not squander the opportunity by wasting time and fooling around. Work first, play second. Be kind, be respectful, be polite. Respect and honour women and elders. Use everything you have to leave this world a better place and take care of our planet for the generations to come.

always with love...

I've been lecturing all summer and in hindsight, I wished I had been loving more, but I have always felt like I had to be the tough parent. You know the strict one. I play the bad cop often and my husband plays the good cop. That makes me mad sometimes, 'cause I want my kids to love me the best, but it's okay in the end. As long as they grow to live up to their potential, and if that means that I'm the one who rants on and on and pushes them further, and my husband stands by as a quiet supporter, often moving us quickly from a hard subject with a witty retort or joke, well so be it. I hope when Harrison has some time away from the family and takes a moment to reflect on how he was parented, he knows, I always had his back and I was the one who wanted him long before he came to earth.



One thing I did this past summer, to keep our connection strong, was make sure he had a few treats. When I picked him up from his job at the Home Depot and then his landscaping job, I always had some frosty ice tea waiting in the car for him. On several occasions I made some yummy blueberry muffins (see a later post) and there was ALWAYS thick slices of zucchini bread for his lunch time snack. He recently informed me that he doesn't really like cookies any longer but there is one that he still enjoys and before he left I made sure to make a big batch of......

 my peanut butter flax seed cookies.

If there is one cookie Harrison enjoys...it's one with peanut butter in it...the flax is a nice nutty touch

I know a lot of people are allergic to peanuts (so sorry!) but thankfully, none of our children have been and that is a good thing because we all love peanut butter in our house. I know our kids really love to be able to have peanut butter cookies and sandwiches all summer long since they can't have them during the school year.

So if you are like us and love a really good peanut butter cookie, you will love this one and hey, it's pretty healthy too, well relatively healthy anyway.  And maybe if there is someone in your life that you have to say goodbye to, make some cookies, and as you are hugging them, slip them into their backpack with a note that says, "you are LOVED!"

Not a great picture as the sun was sprinkling it's light, but this was Harrison and I saying goodbye at 8 am this morning

Instead of goodbye, I think I will just say, "see you soon, I love you!!!" David and Harrison off to University...kind of a tradition now for my husband to take our kids to school....while I stay home and cry while writing a blog post pouring it all out!

I hope you join me in the kitchen to make these soft, chewy cookies. and while we mix, we can listen to this song. Maybe you will cry with me as I sing  "How to say goodbye," by Michael W. Smith.

This song is dedicated to my sweet son Harrison.

Shine on!

If you have a child who is still at home, yes we have to provide a strong foundation for them to grow, and if you are like me, maybe a lecture or two along the way, but a plateful of cookies now and then is another way to remind them they are loved. Although we are moving more and more towards eating less sugar, I think my cookie jar will always be full as long as I have children at home

Love them while you have a chance to...'cause saying goodbye reminds me they are with us for only a blink of an eye. 

 If we have to say goodbye, let us unwrap this time, and see it for the gift it is; a lesson in living more fully and awake.

Hope's Peanut butter Flax seed Cookies

Ingredients

1/2 cup of butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter...we use the organic peanut butter from Costco
11/4 cups all purpose flour....can use half whole wheat for a healthier cookie
1/2 cup ground flax seed
1 tsp baking soda
dash of salt

Directions

Preheat oven to 375 degrees
In a large bowl mix butter and sugar until creamy. Add the egg and vanilla.
Add peanut butter until well combined
In a separate bowl, add all the remaining ingredients.
Stir dry ingredients into the butter mixture and mix well.
Spoon tablespoon and roll into balls. USING A Fork (Harrison likes flattened cookies) flatten cookies using a criss cross pattern. I like to sprinkle a bit more flax on top of each cookie...a single whole peanut is a nice touch too.\
Bake in oven for 10 minutes.

Makes 24 cookies...of course I double the above for our family....these cookies go fast!!!

Thank you for visiting today. Please come back soon. It's been a funny summer for me but this fall I hope to spend more time talking about moving towards a simpler life...minimalist posts, more posts on raising children and more time out in the garden. Come back again...

And until we meet again, may you be well, happy and peaceful.

Blessings from Hope