It sure has been a long time,blame it on the amount of work I’ve had since my promotion, a little over a year ago.
But recently it’s come to my attention that I have a nice little, not so little anymore, fan. My adorable daughter’s friend M. who apparently likes my blog. I haven’t written a post in so long though I couldn’t let the opportunity of saying a big hello to you.
I know you are very gentle, intelligent, creative and really talented girl, go on being this way!
Thank you for being a “fan” of my blog, and also for being such a nice friend to B.!
’till my next post, this one was dedicated to you “M”. I don’t want to write anything else so it does not take away my intention.
Be happy, heregoes a nic little flower to brighten up your days,
It is not rare to me to find the need to talk about LOVE, to its largest extent. Say I love Love.
Love does hurt sometimes, though we usually find out later that was not love but Passion. And yet passion is a practice to love.
Unconditional love is almost impossible, for if my beloved husband has an affair this to me will not be acceptable.
Eternal love is desirable, though as the years fly by people change, so if you do not find the reason why you too are hung together, there might be a chance that the person you became, or the other party, will tear up what once was the reason for being together.
We change. The Universe changes. So bearing this and so many other topics relate to this in -my- mind I would like to invite you to follow my new page that has nothing to do with pure material crafts, but a lot to do with the Art of Love, please don’t read a Kama Sutra kind of love for I never learned much about it.
Mentioning the books I read and base my ideas upon: by Leo Buscaglia Love, Living Loving Learning, Loving each other,Bus 9 to Paradise and Born to love; Louise Hay Heal your body, You can heal your life, Heart thoughts, Love your body; Are you the one for me by Barbara D’ Angelis, Men are from Mars women are from Venus by John Gray, and many others I can’t remember as of now.
So let’s embark this journey I hope to be fun.
I let’s talk about what moves us, our feeling, fears and thoughts. Hoping it to be a pretty interactive page: Pelase visit and bookmark: Love and Soul.
What a horrendous tragedy reached us and surprised us in such a painful way.
Took our breath away, swept us from the ground and in a fraction of a second threw everyone right on the bare floor, with a heavy thud.
We, from all over the world, felt astonished, appalled, shocked as earlier today the news announced that once again shootings had taken place and involved, interrupted small innocent children’s lives in a school in Connecticut -US.
In a few minutes 20 adorable beautiful little angels were gone, not to mention the 6 other adults.
Uncountable irreparable scars in so many others were also left.
My deep feelings for all that, I wish to let you know how sorry and heavy heartened I feel today!
I would like to invite you all to share this image, and help me pray for all of them, them more prayer the better!
I share this with you this, from my heart to yours:
Out of all the sins of the world, carrying innocent blood…
Note: If you’re a vegan, I don’t think this piece of writing is suitable for you, I’m sorry.
I love Christmas, guess I always will. I cry out of most Christmas songs and feel deeply touched, emotionally connected with pretty much everything that has to do with this time of the year.
When I was a little girl, my dad always ‘took care’ of the meat we ate at home, at these festivities the pork was divine.
Dad loved baking it in honor of his deceased mom. He grew up in an underprivileged environment therefore having pork once a year alone meant Christmas for him and his 7 siblings.
So, after he got married, every year around April he would go down to a local farm choose a piglet, start to “feed” (at home he would spare food for the piglet, we never got to know all that for sure -I mean I guess he did say it over and over, but then again we wouldn’t listen) and pay for it. By the end of the year that would’ve been paid in full and his to take home and bake for Christmas.
My Mom was in charge of the many desserts, granny made the Christmas cake, and some Brazilian traditional treats, she did it like no one else does, or ever will -after all she was my granny-. As for the rest of the family my uncles and aunties would bring other foods along with their presence and love.
Then Daddy died in one May that was so unfair! My elder brother and I were living away and used to go home on weekends and for holidays. That year we had a series of financial setbacks, but we managed to buy a nice huge chicken, Mom was still shaken by the fact of not having him around, granny too old and busy taking care of my grandpa in bed. So I stepped up and offered to do most of the cooking, when I thought about to the poultry: a chicken… I would have to season it to perfection to make up for not having the usual turkey, not having my Dad’s seasoning, and having no idea what Daddy used besides love to make his food taste so like Christmas. I had to make sure my little siblings wouldn’t miss him that much. And I was left with a chicken.
One day before Christmas Eve a man knocked at our door asking for Mom. He told her that earlier that year Daddy went to his farm picked a piglet and was sending it food as usual then he stopped. Because that particular year daddy had paid in full, he never did that before, the man assumed daddy would go and fetch the pork. Much to his surprise he learned the daddy had passed away early in May, so he decided to take it himself and hand it to Mom.
Mom almost fainted, feeling sorry for both her and the pig, not knowing what to do with it, and my brothers gladly carried it into the kitchen. We never knew for sure if daddy had paid for it in full or not, it was so not like him.
Anyway, now I had to be quick, still no clue, but much more material to work with. I was deeply touched, daddy looked after us. Turned on the radio, to “fill up my tank” and cooked like crazy.
Do I have to say that luckily I found in the rear back of a cupboard a large variety of seasoning labeled with his handwriting? Do I have to say that our dog who was always beside him while cooking, was now restlessly beside me? Do I have to say that there were no mourning tears for that Christmas Day? Some relatives showed up, even one wealthy uncle, he could not resist trying what he said was: “-Some delicious turkey!”?
No, I don’t, because that very Christmas taught me we have to bury our beloved dead ones, pay them respect, share our love, and keep going. Once in a while we weep, then we keep going. That is life, with all there is to it.
… … … … …
If you ask me what our plans for this coming X’mas are, I ‘ll have to say: we don’t know yet. Because we did not quite fit in the Brazilian communities up here, and do not have close Canadian friends, to share such a family event together, we might either spend the three of us, eating my food, again; or travel somewhere interesting and have a good time.
It takes about 2 days to go back to Brazil and the tickets for this time of the year are shamefully too expensive. Of course I miss my family which is kind of large, and my in-laws too, after 16 years together they are kind of my own family extended.
I don’t regret being here especially because my daughter is so happy, I am not sorry for us, we all know that in one way or another we will end up having what is takes for a perfect Season, that is being among the ones we love and care the most.
My husband had to go on a conference 4 days preceding the mother’s day, leaving me and my daughter behind. So as I had to work and was feeling a bit weary, we simply enjoyed it here and about, as it was a delightful sunny Sunday.
One of the things she did for me was actually the best mother’s gift ever! I pictured it and for sure you will like too!
He arrived later on that day and we enjoyed as a family, it was great, but this one was the best!
She planted the flowers at school.
Later on that same day -Friday- we bought some street chalks for fun at the backyard…
How about that?
Hope you’ve had a lovely one too!
As the Brazilian saying goes: “If the lemon fruit is impossible to eat…make yourself a refreshment!”
My experiences at the till will and must remain really important ones in my life. I have been there for mere 2 months -today, in fact- and it has already changed so much the way I see things now.
We know is so hard for many people, though now, everyday, every hour I meet at least one true hero. At my workplace people come from the most absolutely different backgrounds and they react in so many different ways to my simplest question the usual: How are you doing today? Today for example a “clearlyoutstanding” business woman almost had a fit screaming at me she was in a hurry thus had no time for “How are yous”…
I am not better or worse than any one, it is just not the kind of work I never even for once contemplated or figured myself doing, I am not even that good at dealing with the bills in my hands. You know what I mean? There are people who possess either practice or a kind of unborn intimacy and just take the bills and coins as if they would belong and obey their command. That is not me definitely. Which does not stop my usual early costumers from coming and remaining at my register just for the sake of -as they often say to me- seeing a “good morning smile”. -some of them say it changes their days!- for the better I reply.
This job came to me as a part of a training to unable me to do something else, and somehow it became my one alternative there. It is really weary, tiresome and people are not the ones to take the blame.
Teaching is weary and tiring too, but I realized how much I love it! After 23 years of course I know that, well nevertheless it is always good to refresh. I love to see how much people grow and evolve from certain stages to other ones. As a teacher you get to see certain results out of your effort and planning. At the till all you have is that moment, you may cheer some up, hear a sad or intricate story here and there and that is it. As I said some of them are unkind, most of them are not. I myself would never be gentle or rude to a cashier, as most of the times I hardly realized s/he was there, I know I am being mean now, that is true though. In a powerful position you have respect, at a till you have kindness and a bit of compassion, and I figure it must be tough on the ones that had only this opportunities in life. I feel awkward because we should be the same, treat one another the same, we do no treat people the same, be able to give -pose- the same generous smile. It just simply not happens…
I learned so much. It really enriched my life.
I just to share it with you. Next time I will show you my latest projects. Promise!
Last Sunday we went to West Edmonton Mall, to which we are growing quite familiar with. My husband decided he is definitely going to learn ice skating. Honestly speaking, he is doing quite well for someone who started skating 5 months ago, considering the fact that he is a grown-up with lot of other affairs to look after.
As for me, I had all my skating done from the period of 8 to 20 ish.
Given to the size of the mall, I felt more like getting to know it better.
There was a comotion going on that Saturday, and we learned it was a make over sponsored by a sort of fancy shop called The Bay. This was the deal: Spend CDN 50,00 in any cosmetics and you would be entitled to having a makeover. Forgot to mention I took my little one along with me. There we went! I picked a gloss for her and two items for me, that was it: we spent over CDN 50 bucks.
The moment I sat on that chair, what I got was not a make up/over, it was more like a brain wash, because a make up wouldn’t work like that.
I do not know how many of you have been under this experience; either I was too down, empty or something of the sort, or that make up artist is really an artist! She simply threw the question:
–What would you like? – I could see it in her eyes she would try and do that for me.
I opened my mouth and in a matter of 3 sentences spoke more than I ever knew about my facial skin condition and how it affected me.
As she started, using the many brushes sitting in her belt, barely touching them on my face, laying colors, shades, awesome effects and all the many techniques she has, I felt as if I would indeed have my very own “make over”.
Now I believe that the way they speak to you is enough to make you feel being rebuilt. By the time I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw what I wanted to see, I really felt 10 years younger, not the physical years, but everything that came within them, from my mother’s stroke and my brother’s painful illness to 2 years of trying to get pregnant.
Some accomplishments. Some set backs. Several sleepless nights, not knowing the best thing to do.
It was as if everything had been washed away from my face, as she managed to cover the dark circles around my eyes (with a magical something she wrote the name down later on). That simple act brought my eyes and myself a kind of new light. I believed I could get “what I would like“.
I don’t see myself as a superficial woman, but I was caught, trapped in the undeniable power of the Make Up.
… … …
P.S.:After that experience, I understand better people who take serious risks in going under extreme measures. I do not think I would do that, but I certainly do understand them much better now. And perhaps I will get that magical thing that did cover up the so called dark circles around my eyes.
We are given little dolls from the time we are born, and we grow up among them, taking care of them for good.
I personally never bought my own daughter a doll until she herself actually asked me one. Not that she didn’t have dozens of them. For every visit, my whole family, in-laws and friends always figured at one point it should be a nice gift to give her. I do not blame them we all do that.
She began speaking quite early, and I will never forget the day she was only about 15 months she tried to “change” her little doll’s diaper and said to me “it’s a handful Mom”…
She had surely heard it before either from me or my husband. The fact is that somehow she got into her that she should do that no matter how tired she might become later on…
Coming back to the present 4 years later, and to me and my new job, one day at the register I engaged a conversation to this nice lady -who seamed to be in her middle 30’s- she mentioned having 7 -seven- kids, and making her own time for knitting! I was so taken aback because I amnotthatobstinate.
Honestly to me she didn’t look like some one who had that many children and I spoke my mind. To which she thanked me for, my answer to her was that she did not need to thank me all she had to do was to look at herself in the mirror, at that moment she burst into tears, saying that it had been a while since someone was that kind to her.
No matter how hard we work in and/or out our home, we should never allow ourselves to feel so miserably ran down by our lives and chores.
We have to stop for a moment, look at the mirror right into our eyes, and compliment ourselves.
It was not until I was 32 years that I seriously started feeling like being a Mom. It could be because I had been a teacher for such a long time then, such a dedicated one that I considered my pupils kind of my own kids and managed to postpone this decision ’till then.
I had already been married for almost 7 years then, we were great together. We have a dog, and the fact that he was so super lovely to us, that dragged me into actually start to I wonder how it would be if I had a kid that would be able to hug me as only a child can do and call me Mom…
Years have gone since then, I have my little one now, she is 6 and my dog is 10. They are great! I love them wholeheartedly. After I became a mother I won’t say that my life has changed, it is too little, I feel like another person. A whole new person, a much better now – I guess.
I love the woman I became after she was born.
When I arrived here in Canada I did not expect that for the first time in my life I would be in close contact with kids who live in foster homes. You know I am from Brazil, my parents-in-law both run an orphanage there called, Lar Escola Caibar Schutel, I have been there several times, but it is Brazil and we more and less have tolerance to it. Down there the wealth is so unevenly distributed that people may be really rich, or extremely poor. Sometimes poor kids do go to foster homes, better than staying home and being abused in so many ways by the adults.
I would expect reality here to be way different. But people are people everywhere and as sad as it may seem kids may be abused anywhere.
Then I met these wonderful little ones, two of them are in my daughter’s class, and 2 others are in the class next door. Every day when I pick her at school they rush to me, and because of my Brazilian and motherly nature I hug people a lot! At first I tried to keep a distant, than I asked the nice care givers:
–Is it Ok if I hug them too?
Immediately the answer was that it was more than OK! Now-a-days I get to hug them, and my little one too, sometimes we make it a “group hug”, as they say it.
Kids need a hug.
That’s what children need, lots of hugs, and some attention. It seems easy, but it makes their days! And mine too, in a sense. Some days I long to see those pretty little faces running to me as the say “-Hi!” They hug me straight to my waistline and hold on fast! As I hug them back in a way they feel they are loved.
Kids need love.
Sometimes they say they want to go home with me and get to stay forever, I answer I myself won’t live here forever…
Kids need to feel safe.
As I get to know them better, and see how much they get all these things at their foster homes, and others don’t from their own parents and it breaks my heart to say. I see many of them are better off there!
Kids need respect.
That’s what they need. Someone to make sure they are well taken care of.