Playlist

Is your playlist doing its job?

Playlists are personal. I'm hesitant to even write about mine. People get judgy about song choices. Sigh. I could attempt to explain mine: um, maybe eclectic? Catchy? Genre-bending? Silly? Vapid? Rebellious? Deep? Sad? Yes, all of those. Imagine everything from Joni Mitchell to the Muppets, from Dance to Dolly Parton. Insert shrug emoji here.

My main criteria? An emotional reaction (typically mirth or melancholy).  Bonus criteria? Goosebumps. 

We all know goosebumps: the body releases adrenalin, muscles involuntarily contract and force body hair to stand upright, indentations patterned across the skin. Science says this occurs due to cold, or a reaction to stimuli (fear, attraction, sadness, joy...). Whatever the reason, think about it: our bodies are trying to help us survive. And that's what a playlist can do: enliven us when we're struggling. It's a mental health buoy. 

Science (Daniel J. Levitin) says we humans enjoy a special relationship with music. Unlike other stimuli, it triggers multiple effects in both hemispheres all across our brains including language, emotion, memory, even physiological responses like that overwhelming desire to move “to the beat.” It releases the feel good hormones and affects blood pressure, body temperature, even metabolism. But for what purpose? 

Despite my amateur scientist status, I know the answer; obviously, it's preparing us for that inevitable crucial music-related battle we must all face at some point in our lives: the dance off. Amirite?

I jest, kinda. Music is similar to humour. Music changes channels. Introduce a song to whiny toddlers and suddenly they get their happy on. It's more than humour though. Think about how that song at the funeral pushed open the rusty gate in your heart. 

Alerted by adrenalin, music jolts us from simply existing, shocks us more fully into life, both the joys and the pains. Music speaks truth better than we can: it invokes our deeper feelings, the ones we may not even realize. One amazing song can help us problem-solve, feel less alone; it can provide some new or renewed perspective, it can open a vulnerable conversation, it can heal. Music pushes our buttons and, goosebumped, even our skin can’t hide the transformation.   

What song does the job for you? 

That 10%

My favourite Father's Day cards, lol.

If you're a parent, you've heard this statistic: "90% of the time you will ever spend with your children happens during their first 18 years." I've been in the latter 10% zone for several years now and missing them today, I have thoughts:

It's true. Everyone knows time is a thief and yet we still let it pillage willy-nilly. 

This is a relationship, like all relationships: trust, honesty, respect, boundaries. 

Less saviour, more listener. 

Fact: you're not the same. Live with it and learn from it. 

You will always worry, but don't make this about you.  

This relationship is both timeworn and contemporary. You've both made mistakes. Let shit go and shut up. 

Don't leave the loving things unsaid and let your actions speak too. 

Continue to pay attention, hear, love. 

Be available. Don't hover. Jump at opportunities to make new memories together whether that's as simple as cleaning the garage together or a trip to Mexico (and everything in between). 

Check yourself for updates aka use this extra time to become a better parent/person. 

It does not matter your age; everyone needs someone who believes in them. 

Divorce, eh?

an apt depiction of two wonderful
countries who don't quite match,
 but do fit together source 

Divorce. It's an abstract concept, for me. Sure, family and friends in our circle are divorced but neither my spouse nor I grew up in a home with divorced parents. So when people ask, what does it feel like to be a Canadian right now, I imagine it's like divorce. 

Let's be honest, Canada was never legally married to the USA but we were in a pretty high-functioning common law relationship, a contract that both parties signed. Truth be told, we don't quite match, but we made it work, even enjoyed the relationship. Sure, we are clearly the beta in this couple and at times, you may have taken advantage of that (Canadian energy) but for the most part, we truly loved each other. Maybe we still do? But what's that cliché about relationships? Love is never enough. 

Turns out that's true. Canada never asked for this divorce, but it's happening. And here we are. One toxic partner continually makes demands. So we meet them, or try to, even when we all know some are bullshit (the fentanyl crisis at Canadian border). Our representatives (political leaders) negotiate, bend over backwards, and indeed make some changes. But it's not working....

Why? Despite a desire to remain partners in some form at least, one partner continually employs all the toxic relationship playbook classics: accuses us of cheating, makes unfair demands, belittles our representatives, limits contact, lies, plays the victim, gaslights, makes us feel unsafe, uses social media to demean and threaten us.... 

A relationship can't exist without trust, honesty, and respect, can it? Temporarily, perhaps. But eventually....

We're stronger than we were a few weeks ago. We're changing. We're more united (9/10 Canadians!) We're making new plans. Nevertheless, it's been a sad month. I really do mean that. But to use a clever line from that American culture once so beloved to us, "bye Trump Felicia." 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Let's be honest:

A good friend's husband died earlier this month, an absolute blindside.
Still thinking about these wise words: painful, hopeful, honest.
Also thinking about others I'm missing. No doubt, you too?
For whatever might be ailing you today, I hope these words find you. 

Fullness

P 💞 L 

Weeks ago, I intended to write about our January holiday to Mexico, but life interrupted things. 

Travel makes me grateful and reflective but I need time to process all that discovery and restorative-ness. 

This trip we traveled with our daughter, her husband, his parents and our grandchildren. Imagine. 

There are stories to tell about French fries and puffer fish and a margarita stand, but mostly there was precious time to play with our favourite grandtoddlers, 3 year-old M and 1 year-old L. And although there are many impressive photos of the beach and sunsets and an excursion to a tiny island and a burrito bigger than a birthday cake, I keep returning to pictures of my daughter with her children, and this one with her young son. 

It's impossible to accurately describe the feeling of watching your children be parents to their own children: it's joy, it's pride, it's time-travel, it's nostalgia, it's laughter, it's longing, it's...peace...it's a fullness...(it's fleeting and forever) and I wish it for everyone. 

Would I steer you wrong?

I suspect I'm not the only highland steer who
feels that reading the daily news requires horns.

Nope. 😜

Happy Robbie Burns Day, dear friends. This charming artwork hangs in my son's bathroom and it makes me smile every time. 

For supper tonight I made my version of Scotch Broth, a hearty pearl barley soup with turnips, onions, and carrots. For Christmas, I gifted myself The Scottish Cookbook (by Coinneach MacLeod, the Hebridean Baker) so I'm hoping to expand my Scottish cooking beyond soup, shortbread, and scones. One more thing: although I'm not much of a drinker, I do have a favourite Scotch, Dalwhinnie. It's warm and sweet like caramel, but a bit spicy with a hint of smoke too. 

Whether you celebrate or not, Lang may yer lum reek. Slàinte mhath!

Abc?

I love the way text structures are evolving and new genres are emerging in the book world. 

Thanks to NGS, I read Alphabetical Diaries by Sheila Heti (c) 2024, a great example of this evolution. 

In alphabetical order, each chapter features highlights from the author's journal curated into a narrative both disassembled and threaded in curious ways. With all due respect, it's a bit ADHD yet (surprisingly) each sentence, like jigsaw puzzle pieces, eventually connects elsewhere, establishing character, plot, and themes I think many women would relate to. It's also a narrative about being a writer and that's the aspect I most connected with. 

Inspired, I searched my 2024 iPhone journal and chose these entries from A to Zed. 

Is it too random, or can you infer connections?

Almost 9 and everyone's still sleeping except us. Babies have surgery. Cried through the last chapter. Dreamed I was in a drawing class with Lynn who died in 2020. Edmonton Oilers kicking ass. Funeral today and I will always regret not being there. Grandkids arrive tomorrow! Happy New Day. I have the Lego bride and groom ready! Jesus, where is my passport? Keep imagining Sisyphus happy. Love my daughter's haircut; hate her boss. Maybe don't listen to your unreliable inner narrator? Not impressed with the Connections puzzle today. Our tongues are not normal, son. Pita Pizzas, yum. Quiet, soft, floating snow. Ready for this day with you. She told me she's afraid of the 'Backson' from Winnie the Pooh. Trying to draw different types of owls and texting grandturkey pics with my childhood friend: priceless. Unscrupulous people gonna unscrup-you/us. Very uncomfortable watching these election results. World is so fucked up, but I bet if someone started playing, "you are my sunshine" on a subway, everyone would sing along. X-ray results good! You must not forget that time a random baby waved at you in the grocery store. Zone of Interest (and its compelling use of sound) gripped me and begged me not to deaden myself to the world. 

Nows

That forest-canopy feeling should be 
experienced every once in a now.

From a conversation I had today...

Her face puzzled, she asked, "don't you mean once in a while?"

Curious, I replied, "what did I say?"

"You said once in a now." 

I smiled, "that's actually better. Why wait?"

Sometimes malapropisms improve on the original. And then later today, while walking, I remembered something poet-marvel Emily Dickinson wrote: "forever is composed of nows." 

Wise words, indeed.  

So friends, what might you stop waiting for and enjoy every once in a now? 

Things that deserve the stink-eye

 

via GIPHY (the sign for idiot)

Oh, today's news. The incoming US Liar-in-Chief continues to muse about annexing Canada...hence the sign above. (Insert eye roll here.)

Historians may know that Americans tried this once before: the War of 1812. And yes, some argue this war was just a leveraging technique against Britain. Considering US history, that's understandable. But the outcome? Pretty much nothing, although the Canadians (technically referred to as British loyalists at that time), burned The White House in retaliation for US troops burning a portion of York (present-day Toronto). Oh, and there was an unintended outcome: it galvanized those British Loyalists and helped forge a Canadian identity. (Insert maple leaf here.)

Is today's news another leveraging technique? Probably...but this time more for his amusement, I guess? Something else he obviously doesn't understand or care about: since the 1800s, US & Canadian citizens have shared a border with no major conflicts, whatsoever. We've been friends for centuries, supporting each other in world conflicts. Remember 911? To me, that's more important than today's anti-democratic pissing-contest nonsense, likely to be continued for the next four years ad nauseum. Sigh. Dear US friends, hang in there. 

Also, GARDYLOO.

New Year? New Mantra?

source

As the Scots say, Happy Hogmanay, aka Happy New Year!

If you've been reading my blog for a while, you may know most of my ancestors belong to the Canadian arm of the Scottish diaspora, and thanks to my immigrant great-grandparents, I love all things Scottish, especially the accent and in particular, the slang. As we all peek (with trepidation) around the corner into 2025, I am reminded of one of my favourite Scottish words (and the historical custom it inspired): GARDYLOO!

Apparently once a law in Edinburgh, this Scots term was used as "a warning cry before throwing a bucket of dirty water from a window into the street." Pre-plumbing, y'all can imagine what was in that bucket:💩. 

Of course there is much I'm anticipating in 2025 (birthdays, projects, travel, reunions, etc), but we all know "shit's going down" next year and if humour is your coping method, may I suggest you cry in the shower if necessary, BUT ALSO ENJOY RANDOMLY YELLING GARDYLOO AS NEEDED (and remember you are not alone.) 

Happy "Gardyloo" year, dear friends.