Farm Life Part 2

Thank you, everyone, who stopped by the read my latest blog about work-life integration. As I shared, I am a writer trying to implement work-life integration into my daily life.

This past week I took small steps toward blending the work and farm life. My creative life was non-existent after I completed my morning pages. I write three long-hand pages as soon as I get out of bed before I start my day. This daily ritual keeps me connected to writing. Then I take my days off and write as much as I can. When I say write, it means everything relating to writing. Reading, creating plot lines, jotting down notes about ideas I have for other books, and researching for my current work in progress. Writing doesn’t always mean the physical act of writing words.

This week, I took the time to do a little more on the farm after the workday was done. I know I am needed more on the farm as we grow our business. I attempted to tell myself and set a time frame with my work life that I needed to be done at a certain time to ensure I would be available for another appointment that was important to me. Everyone takes time off during the workday to go to a doctor’s appointment, take their kids to the dentist, and so on. Why can’t I do that? You know what? I can and I did.

I took an afternoon off to deal with personal and farm life appointments. However, there was a monthly commitment at the hotel life that I knew I wanted to still be involved with, so I connected remotely as I could tend to the farm life. I was blending into two of my worlds and the earth didn’t come to a screeching halt. Life was going on around me. I knew I can work from home and get everything I need doing in both areas of my life. Writing would still get my attention. I am here writing this blog and feeling connected to my creative life.

On Saturday, I could take the time to blend all three worlds together. I stayed on the farm as my hubby went to the market. The list of things to do to maintain the greenhouses where known. I knew I had to do some hotel work, so I wouldn’t be scrambling on Monday to get it done. I could get the projects needed for both farm and work completed in the morning. I spent the afternoon reading, sitting idle to listen for my muse to share what is the next step for my book. I smiled. I was in the moment and doing what needed to get done. It felt great.

• 

  The Greenhouse moved to the right by 2-feet

As if some squeezed the greenhouse in half

The greenhouse 2 feet off from original layout

Getting back to the original layout – whew!

The biggest highlight of the day was at five o’clock in the afternoon. I don’t think I shared a freak windstorm that damaged our first greenhouse in December in the middle of the night. It was if the hand of God or energy picked up the greenhouse in the middle, squeezed it ever so gently, and moved two feet across the property. The next day, a new friend of ours helped straighten out the pressure points on the greenhouse, but we knew we would need more help with moving the structure in the spring. That happened. These two wonderful people came with their tractors with forklifts and within thirty to forty minutes the greenhouse was straight and moved back the two feet to its original spot. Yes, there are areas we will need to work on but minor to moving the 96-foot long by 24 feet wide greenhouse entailed. Thank you, universe.

This is my creative life at the moment. Trying to figure it all out, to have some type of integration. Blending my lives in harmony is now a daily commitment. I am aware every day may not work out as planned, but I am setting the intention and committing myself to the highest self-care required to maintain this amazing creative life.

How are you with work-life integration? Do you have any tips and tricks that work for you? I would love to hear from you.

Thank you for being here with me today. Wishing you all a great day!

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

The Farm Life; Trying to Create Balance.

I am a writer. I am a writer who happens to be a manager at a hotel to pay the bills. Because I am not Danielle Stelle or Stephen King. I am an amateur writer. I can say that about myself because it is true. I haven’t taken my writing career as seriously as I know I should be. It’s a sad story.

I am a writer who is a manager at a hotel that happens to have a small-scale farm. I am a writer who doesn’t write as much as she would like to. I am a writer who is more into hotel life than farm than writing. Okay, I’ll be very truthful. I barely help with the farm, only on the weekends when I try to squeeze in a few hours of writing.

On Saturday morning I did some hotel work because my job doesn’t end at 5:00pm on a Friday. I’m not a GM, but I am part of an senior leadership that doesn’t equal a 9-5 model.

It’s hard to find work-life integration. Human resources, Lifestyle experts say it is possible, and I’m trying to find my integration. I’m trying to blend my lives to live as one. Why? Because it’s hard to keep things separate in the world we live in. Yet, I love boundaries. I use to be the queen of telling people politely that when I am not working; it is my time. Unless it is a life-or-death situation, it can wait until I return to the office. It’s true. Nothing is that earth-shattering that I need to leave the comforts of my home to go to my day job. Yes, sometimes it was a serious situation, and I put my work hat on because it is part of the job. I choose to be in the world of management in hospitality. I am good at what I do and I love sharing how great it is to work in an industry that brings people together. I am of service and I am aware of the choices I make. I am grateful for this awareness.

I started off by saying I was a writer who happens to be working in the hospitality business, who has a small-scale farm, and who is trying to live all three lives in harmony. There are days it works. I can do all three. There are days I am not able to and I have to come to terms with this. The true self is crying out to be writing and I have to pay attention to her. My creative life is my priority. I will keep working on integrating my three passions to live as one.

Do you have work-life integration? How do you do it? I would love to hear about it. Any guidance would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you for being here with me today.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

Things I regret missing during the pandemic, not really.

It’s been two years since the pandemic hit us. It united us as one with the lockdowns, saying, ‘Stay Safe’, and every other pandemic ism that was created as quickly as anyone could think up.

I watched and listened to millions of people losing their jobs and then being forced to pivot to their true passions. What the hell! I thought. You’re getting time to open your own business? Write the book you’ve been bellyaching about all these years.

Then there was me…

I was fortunate to keep my job. Or was I? Yes, yes, I was. I had to keep telling myself that for a year before I changed jobs in the middle of the Covid-19 drama.

I can’t really get into the details because of confidential privacy acts, and if anyone knows me, I’m a rule follower. I’ve been told and self-proclaimed that I am literal. I am and that’s okay. I may not have a sense of humour or understand jokes, but I follow the steps and my IKEA furniture always turns out as seen in the catalogue.  

The universe hears us. If you put it out there, be ready to receive what is needed to get to the bigger picture. Sometimes it takes longer than we have patience for, then there are moments where I got whiplash from how fast the universe works. It’s amazing.

During my year at the one hotel I worked for when we first moved back to Atlantic Canada, I kept telling myself that I didn’t want more responsibility; I didn’t want to be a General Manager because I knew myself. I knew I would be true to the hotel, the owners and, most importantly, the employees. I would be on call 24/7. Hotel life does not have boundaries. They constantly needed you when you run a hotel. But because the hotel didn’t have a GM at the time and was in the middle of finding one, I got the job because of Covid. I kept my consistent income and health benefits, and I was truly grateful for having a job. But, I said I didn’t want to be a GM again. Sometimes you have to be more specific with your intentions, and sometimes the universe gives you something to make sure you are paying attention.

When the pandemic hit and lockdowns happened, many hotels in the city closed their doors. Within 24–48 hours, we watched millions of dollars of room nights drop to zero. But, when we found out other hotels were closing, we stayed open. There was an overflow of travellers. We had health care workers stay with us because they couldn’t stay at home because of the risk of getting Covid and spreading it to their families. As Covid’s causes were going down, business came back, and we had enough business to stay open. We were getting more future business to warrant bringing back the laid off staff and hiring new employees to help with the bright future ahead.

Then, one afternoon, I met another hotel associate for lunch because it was time to get back to networking after a year and a half of virtual meetings and hiding under the covers. When they asked me to tell my story, who was I, how did I land up in Fredericton, and why did I like hospitality? As I shared my story, I watch their interest in me, then they said, ‘I’m looking for an HR director…’ because I shared how I was passionate about human resources, I loved coaching people to help them find their passion within the hotel or break free and try something new. So, I applied for the job and after the month-long hiring process, I became the HR Director for the biggest hotel in the city.

If I had been laid off from my previous job, I would not have had that lunch meeting with my new boss, and I wouldn’t be living my best life. Right place, right time. Thank you, universe.

Sure, I sometimes regret not getting laid off and getting Covid relief pay to stay home and write. But, I know everything happens for a reason and I am learning how to set my boundaries and figure out how to live a more work-life integration. I looked at my FB header and realized that I have been saying one thing, but trying to keep things separate when it all is one.

Working for a hotel became a way of life

Writing is my passion

The two become one

Hello! My work-life integration began long ago. I finally get it. Sure, I set boundaries where on my days off I don’t check emails, but if someone at work calls me, it’s important, HR-related things don’t stop because I’m a day off. I get it, and now I’m learning how to live a more integrated life. Thank you, universe!

What reflections do have you as we live with Covid? What are some things you may or may not regret during the height of the pandemic? I would love to hear from you.

Thank you for being here with me today. I appreciate you stopping by.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

D is for Deals and Drugs ~ Oh My!

The first memoir I wrote was a memoir sin. I tried to hide a few experiences I was not ashamed of, and the deals I made with myself. I was afraid of what people would think. I know better because other people’s opinion of me is not my business. It’s my opinion that matters.

Living away from home for the first time was an adventure for me and for many others. Working and living with the same people day after day was not as appealing as they presented it when I accepted the dining room busser position over twenty-five years ago. Living on top of a mountain in staff accommodations where a party is always going on in one or two rooms every day and night is not a healthy lifestyle. It is fun for a while, but you wake up after a summer of partying and wonder what happened.

My second memoir, Behind The Kitchen Doors ~ Resort Life, is a continuation of my hospitality career and the poor choices I made in romantic relationships. Those relationships came with baggage, that baggage so heavy they felt the need to drown their feelings with booze and drugs. This was my observation. We never talked about why they felt the need to be numb, but through loose conversations, it came down to broken hearts and fizzled-out dreams. Sad.

When I shared my dreams of being a writer they encouraged me, told me to leave the Lake, don’t get sucked into the dark side. I was twenty and wanted to know more about their story. I was the writer who asked, ‘what if?’ and ‘how did they get here?’ I wanted to dig into the story and create a novel around their character. But I fell in lust and my first summer at the Lake I tried mushrooms for the first time. Not because of the boy. I was curious, and I gave into the ego. My first mistake, my sassy alter-ego, who I call Sis, wouldn’t let me forget. To learn more about Sis, check out the first couple of pages of my debut memoir.

The following expert did not make it in my debut memoir, Behind The Kitchen Doors ~ The Summers.

***

You might like these then. Carol opened a little baggie of magic mushrooms. Owen and Lesley quickly put their hands in the baggie and popped a few into their mouth. Lesley pointed to everyone as she spoke the oath of taking drugs together. The key is that we stick together. We can leave no one alone on mushrooms. Agreed?

            Marion Ann: Where the hell else would I go?

            Sis: Right. You’re in the middle of the woods. Surrounded by nothing but trees.

            Marion Ann: Nothing could go wrong.

            Sis: Or it could all go to shit.

            Marion Ann: You’re no help.

I interrupted my brief internal debate as everyone agreed to Carol’s oath. I had no idea what I was in for. When I got nervous and didn’t know what to say, my internal battle picked up and Sis had more to say.

            Sis: This should be fun.

            Marion Ann: How many do I eat?

            Sis: What am I, the mushroom expert? Ask.

            Marion Ann: They seem to be eating more than just one.

            Sis: Go with the flow.

Min, try one and see what happens. You can always have more to keep the trip going. Carol shook the baggie in front of my face. I took a large piece of mushroom, popped it into my mouth, and chewed. It was like eating dust. I sipped some beer to wash away the blandness. My nativity was expecting an instant high. Karl took a few more mushrooms and handed me another piece. I popped it into my mouth.

            Sis: Go big or go home.

***

I wrote about my experience being on mushrooms and how I felt conflicted with not liking the feeling of being out of control, but, was interested in the feeling of being out of control. It was an experience I have in my memory bank because there are times I am having a flashback or creativity is telling me to write about it. I’ll go with creativity telling me to write about it.

Please let me know if you enjoyed this topic. Should I add it to my next memoir? Do I need to share more? What do you want to know more about his excerpt? Thank you.

Thank you for being here with me today.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

The Creative Life ~ Spring Colds

I have a Spring cold. We have rapid tests in the house and I have tested negative for Covid, but I know my body, I know the seasons and what they can do to my immune system. Last week I felt tired, sluggish, and downright blah. That’s my highly technical medical term for being sick.

I went to work on Monday and was feeling okay. I knew I wasn’t myself when I couldn’t focus on a task because I felt a headache coming on. Then I was in bed by 8:30 that night. The body needed rest.

Tuesday, I went to work, but I had chills, and my throat was raw. Here we go. I left at noon because I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish out the day in my office and I also didn’t want to pass along anything to my office mate or other colleagues. That night I felt terrible. I didn’t sleep because of coughing.

I worked from home on Wednesday and felt a little better by the end of the day. Thursday and Friday I felt better. My work family asked if I was okay because I sounded like Kermit the Frog. That’s one stage for me, congested and frog-like croaks.

On Saturday morning I felt good, so I worked out. Well, that triggered the cold right back to the first stage. I am sitting here with a runny nose, watery eyes and my voice sounds like Kermit has smoked for twenty years. The body is trying to get rid of something. I usually take cold medication, but I didn’t have any, and I wasn’t leaving the house. My hubby was working at the farmers’ market until midafternoon and he would stop and get some. Now I am waiting for the anti-runny nose medication to kick in and thinking I should buy stocks in Kleenex and orange juice. I am one person and have gone through boxes of tissues and a liter of orange juice to make sure I am hydrated and full of vitamin C.

I am hoping to make a nice dinner of cauliflower steaks with a garlic sauce and brussel sprouts with a cheese topping–lots of antioxidants in the veggies and garlic to keep any vampire away for days.

The thing about being sick and working is I still have some type of guilt for taking a day to rest. I have so much to do and one day will put me behind. How did this notion ever make its way into my mind? Oh yeah, our parents and the 80s and 90s work ethic. It was a thing in the workforce that if you were sick to suck it up and come to work. Maybe if you couldn’t get out of bed, but otherwise, take a pill and get back to work.

For years I have been practicing this notion until about ten years ago. I worked for an independent hotel and they were focused on health. Stay home and get better and don’t get anyone else sick. Wow! What a concept. So that’s what I practiced, and that’s what I preached to new employees, and tried to rewire the old school employees’ way of thinking. Do you think it has changed? Ever so slightly. Even during Covid.

We were forced to stay home for 14 days if anyone tested positive for Covid, then it went to 10 days, then 5 days and now that restrictions have lifted, it is “highly” suggested staying home if you test positive and it is up to the individual how they feel before they return to work. Some people are going back to work right away because they don’t have symptoms, but others are down and out with full on flu-like symptoms. I need to take note and tell myself that it is still okay to stay home and rest so that I am better to go back to work to do my job without interruption. And that I am not passing my germs along to others. This is a very random post, but it is where I am today. I am trying to prepare for the Blogging Through A to Z Challenge and need to write three to four blogs for the next three weekends to be ahead of the blogs. I also have other responsibilities around the house that will get ignored because my writing life is more important at the moment. This cold is a speed bump that I will get over and the floors will get vacuumed when my nose stops dripping.

Thank you for being here with me today. I know it’s random, but hey, we are all together for a reason. To share that we are not alone and it’s okay to write random blogs.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

The Creative Life ~ To Blog or Not to Blog

I am trying to be consistent with the themes I blog about. I tend to lean towards my writing process or tips and tricks on how to write more or/and everything in-between. I may need to enter the April, blogging through A-to-Z blogging challenge to help me get back on track with my second memoir about working for luxury hotels in the heart of the Canadian Rockies. Well, I didn’t expect that at all. I was searching for a theme to write about and was going to share something from a fiction book I have been plugging away at for years, but as I typed, the Blogging Challenge came to me. I think that is a sign. So, the next step is, what is my theme going to be for the month? Over the years, I have done very random themes and then I wrote about food and my hotel life.

Since I need a kick in the butt with my second book, maybe I should choose self-help, relationship sabotage, and career growth. My second memoir is about how I left Chateau Lake Louise to follow a boy to a sister property, Jasper Park Lodge. Little did I know at the time that what I was running away from would only follow me until I learned the lesson that the universe was shoving in my face for years. A lesson of how I had been choosing the wrong men and avoiding my talent to write, to share stories, to live the creative life I had been manifesting for so long, but somewhere along the line I filled the empty void of not writing with poor choices in my romantic life. Interesting. Before I went to the Lake, I had two great boyfriends. They adored me and wanted me forever. But you see, I didn’t want marriage or children. This was a deal-breaker for me. They thought I would grow out of it. I sabotaged my relationship with my first boyfriend in high school by hanging out with a friend who was a guy, but my boyfriend knew my friend liked me and wanted me to be his girlfriend.

Is your head spinning with the back and forth of the teenage drama?

Then my second high school boyfriend was equally attentive and treated me like a princess. That was his nickname for me, otherwise, I would say he treated me like a Queen. He was protective of me, but not jealous, just enough for other guys to know I was happy in a relationship with him. And I was. I adored him; we loved each other deeply. We may have been eighteen, but our souls were old and the love that latched onto us was out of some Outlander book. Love prevails!

What happened? Me. My decision not to get married or want to have children. We were in our early twenties and he thought I would change my mind. He could wait. I said he would wait for a long time. Marriage was one thing. Without being married, I could live with him. I would not have one child. I asked for a sibling to have company. And I would not have more than one kid just because they needed company, because I didn’t want to spend money on another person when I could use it towards my creativity. Long story short. I couldn’t give him what he wanted, and I wasn’t changing my mind about what I wanted out of life for anyone. Period. I may make me sound selfish and I was, and I am still a little. Being an only child is a recipe for selfishness – but in a good way. Look at all the famous only children out there. Frank Sinatra, Robin Williams, Leonardo DiCaprio are just a few creative people who were highly successful in their creativity.

So how is this going to play out in my theme for the blogging challenge? I think I will lean towards how I was afraid to dive deep into my writing life when that was the only thing I wanted to focus on. I was chasing after something I “thought” I wanted, a boyfriend, not to be alone, to say, hey I’m normal and I can get a boyfriend. This may be another type of book in the making, this is why I write. One word at a time we unravel the truth.

I will work on the theme of this year’s blogging challenge and share it soon. Thank you for being here with me today. I look forward to hearing from you.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

The Creative Life – News Worthy Highlights

New Kids In The Block Take Over The World

The boy band of five Boston are stealing the hearts of millions of teenagers by storm. All the girls wanted Joey-Joe to sing ‘Please Don’t Go Girl” to them. One afternoon in 1988 a young girl was visiting Boston with her father and five other winners of a radio show contest where they were flown to Boston to see the Christmas tree lighting. The city of Halifax, Nova Scotia, gave Boston a large Christmas Tree every year as a thank you for Bostons assistance during the Halifax Explosion. The young girl was standing next to an outdoor vendor selling homage scarfs and saw two boys run by her. She thought they looked familiar and after the long day of events, she read the Team Beat magazine she picked up at the Boston Airport and she flipped through the pages looking for Joey-Joe, but she stopped at the picture of Jorand and Johnathan, the brothers of the boy band. Those were the boys who ran past her at the outdoor market. She was excited to know she had a close encounter with two of the most famous people in pop culture at the time.

I Can See Dead People

Haley Joel Osment, Bruce Willis and Donnie Walhberg we staring in one of the best supernatural psychological thrillers in August 1999. No to spoil the movie for anyone, but what an ending! It made me think of how I wanted to write great stories like The Sixth Sense. While the rest of the world was consumed by the story of the young boy who could see dead people, a young woman was trying to reclaim her identity after a unfortunate situation with her boyfriend at the time. She needed time away from him and his infidelities. Why she stayed is a mystery, but if she didn’t stay she wouldn’t be where she is today. Everything happens for a reason.

Brace for Y2K

Y2K was a numeronym and was the common abbreviation for the year 2000 software problem. The abbreviation combines the letter Y for “year”, the number 2 and a capitalized version of k for the SI unit prefix kilo meaning 1000; hence, 2K signifies 2000. It was also named the “Millennium Bug” because it was associated with the popular (rather than literal) rollover of the millennium, even though most of the problems could have occurred at the end of any century. ~ Thank you Wikipedia

While everyone was bracing for a complete computer meltdown, a young woman stood on top of the roof of the hotel she work for to watch the Calgary fireworks light up the sky to celebrate another New Year. The young woman cried out into the night why her life was a mess and then she asked for help from the universe to take the next step to take back her life. She started to learn how to manifest and have a clear vision of what she wanted. She wanted to share the talent that had been given to her, to tell stories and if she was going to tell the story of how she survived a nasty relationship so be it. They were both at fault, no two wrongs make a right would be her theme.

A few small snippets into my life as a young woman when the world was consumed by pop culture. The last two are part of my latest memoir, Behind The Kitchen Doors ~ Resort Life, where I share more about my hospitality career and the choices I made in my romantic relationships that should have been ended before they started, but then I wouldn’t be here where I have manifested myself. Sitting here in my writing room of a farm house that I have seen myself living ever since I can remember. The hairs at the end of my neck just tingled. I am on the right track.

Thank you for being here with me today.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

Tired of Winter? Me too.

I know you may be tired of hearing about the weather, especially the winter season. I know I am. But I live in a wintery place and this year there seems to be more snow than our first two years in New Brunswick. 

I am sharing my ego-related experiences over the weather because I want to share how silly I sounded to myself at the end of another snowstorm. 

I don’t trust the weather network. 

Okay, that’s not true. Sometimes the forecast is right but then sometimes it is a little off, like this weekend. 

The pathway to the greenhouse – that is the roof shovel to clear the greenhouse

It all started on Thursday evening around midnight. When I went to bed it was not snowing, the forecast did say the snow would start overnight and that part was true. It snowed about 10 to 15 cm (about 4 – 5 inches) in 7 hours and it was still snowing when I got up at 5am to write and work out. The snow was light and easily shoveled off the stairs and a pathway to the garage so I could get to my car and head to work. I didn’t notice the ego at this time. I was on autopilot, it was Friday, and I was going to work for the morning and planned to take the afternoon off to work on some writing and then help my hubby with harvesting microgreens for the Farmers Market on Saturday. Usually, he doesn’t need my help but when it is snowing, he will focus on clearing the greenhouses and with the five-foot snowdrifts around the houses, it takes longer to clear the snow. 

The snow stopped by 5:00 pm and we had finished up clearing the snow and harvesting for the market around the same time. I said I would take care of the greenhouses on Saturday; it shouldn’t take long. I checked the weather network and the forecast was for around 1 to 3 cm of snow. Not the case. 

Another 5 to 8 cm of heavier snow started around 6am when I started to work out. I went about my Saturday morning routine of bringing firewood into the wood room and then suited up in winter wear to tackle the clearing of the greenhouses. What I found was the heavy snow was harder to pull off the houses and every time I took a step in the snowdrift I would either sink thigh or waist-deep. This doesn’t make for stable footing.

I was in the middle of two of our greenhouses waste deep in snow and cursing out loud to the heavens. No one could hear me, my hubby was at the Farmers Market, I was all alone. If I couldn’t get out of the snow, I would be there until he got home, but then how would he know I was out there? I didn’t have my phone and the sound is muffled out in the country. I know it is dramatic, the ego was taking over. I started to curse the snow, asking why are we living in a snow belt area when we were living on beautiful Victoria Island? What was I thinking when I said yes to moving back to the known Atlantic Canadian winters? Then I asked Mother Nature to give us a break, can we just have one weekend without snow so I can get some writing done. Woah. Take a time out Ego. 

So, I got myself out of the snow and went back to the house, cleaned up, and went to Canadian Tire to buy snowshoes. I said I would get a pair over two weeks ago and I didn’t. Every time I said could handle the hour and a half of dealing with the snow and be done. No. I need a winter tool to help me not twist my knee or ankle every time I step into a snowdrift not knowing how far I will go. I sent my hubby a venting text and bought the snowshoes, came home, suited up again to finish the last greenhouse and you know what? The snowshoes are godsent. I had more control of my footing and it took less time to clean the greenhouse because I was stable and not fighting with the snow. I was working with it. What a concept. 

I witnessed the ego freak out many times in the span of 48 hours over the weather. I quickly took a deep breath and moved into my meditation practice. I am. I am aware of the emotions flying around. I am aware the true self actually doesn’t mind being outside, and now with the proper winter gear, I am prepared for the elements of winter. Life is about being prepared and being able to write and mediate the ego into submission, I have the tools to come back to center and not stay stuck in the snow, waste deep, cursing out Mother Nature. 

How do you deal with extreme weather conditions? I would love to hear from you. 

Thank you for being here with me today. I hope this is (maybe) the last time I share my experiences about this year’s winter. There are 88 days of winter, we are halfway now, 44 more days to go. I got this!

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

The Creative Life ~ Writing and the Weather

The Weather, it’s something we can’t control, even if my imagination says otherwise, like when I think why are the big snow days on the weekends? Is there someone, somewhere controlling the weather on the weekends in New Brunswick and other provinces getting similar weather systems that have been given orders by someone to make it snow so much to keep people inside to stop spreading Covid-19? Or maybe that someone wants people to stay inside and connect with family, even though the past two years people have been in isolation with their families. Why not one more weekend? 

When I was younger, I didn’t care about the weather or if I had to stay inside the house because we were snowed in. I looked forward to helping my father shovel and build ice rinks and snow houses made out of blocks of snow my dad could carve out because we had the time to do that in the late 1980’s. 

Why am I going on about the weather today? We, meaning, the province of New Brunswick and pretty much all of the Atlantic Canadian provinces are expected to get over 30 centimetres of snow today. That is a lot of snow. 

As I sit in my writing room watching it snow, I am willing the weather system to pass us quickly and maybe the wind will shift the pattern closer to the coast line and then drift off to sea. I know mother nature is doing her thing, it’s winter in the Maritimes and that means we get frigid temperatures and snow, lots of snow. I am happy to sit here and write the day away between snow clearing duty, more importantly clearing the snow off the greenhouses. We can’t leave 30 cm of snow on top of them, so we help the process by using a roof snow shovel. I’m so happy this was invented, thank you universe for giving the idea to the person to share with the world. 

The weather is a funny topic of conversation. It’s an easy conversation to be part of, 

“how’s the weather?” and sometimes it is one word “fine” or there is a story to be told. For example, I went to the store this morning to pick up a few things that I forgot on my grocery list and as I was waiting in line when the cashier asked how the person was doing, they would say,

“Oh, you know, getting ready for the storm, stocking up on essentials, can I have two packs of Player’s Light Kings and bottle of whiskey…” 

I should mention I was at a local gas station that carries grocery items and is a liquor agent. I go there because it is a five-minute drive from the farm and there is a woman who brings her homemade baked goods, today I scored her ginger crinkle cookies. I can also pick up a six pack of beer or a bottle of wine to go with the cookies and local made smoked salmon. I love where I live! 

There is no use to complain about the weather, it doesn’t care, it’s doing the natural thing and all we can do is prepare and then deal with it in the moment. I know I have to get up soon to clear off the greenhouses, and I am grateful that I was able to take this moment and get some writing done and prepare for the next writing project after I finish the first round of shoveling. 

How do you prepare for snow storms? (If you are in a snow part of the country) I love hearing from you.

Thank you for being here with me.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…

What Made You Want To Start Writing?

This is a great question for me to be reminded of why I write. I am participating in an Instagram writing prompt challenge and this was one of the prompts. It’s a great trigger for my creativity.

I can’t remember a time when I was not writing. I always had a crayon, pencil, or pen in my hand when I was as young as two years old. The muse was ready to work with me from the beginning. But one of my first memories of when I wanted to write was when I was seven years old.

I was sitting in the movie theatre watching, Annie, the original, with Carol Burnett as Ms. Hannigan. I love that movie, the wit, the drama, the romance, the dancing and singing, and everything in between.

I already had an active imagination, my Barbies had full lives with living in our lily of the valley bush where Ken picked Barbie flowers every day as a gesture of his love. The bush also was a jungle they had to survive; Skipper would have to scale the stalks of the bush to find a new source of food. I could go on and on with their adventures in our backyard. Then when the movie was over, I couldn’t stop thinking about Annie life’s and I started to make stories for my Barbies. They were now the cast of Annie and I was directing them on what happened after Daddy Warbucks adopted Annie. I asked myself at an early age;

What if…

What if Annie’s friends were in danger at the orphanage, maybe they were being sold to a company where they would be working for a bad man or woman who didn’t care about their wellbeing. Would Daddy Warbuck’s adopt all of her friends and they all lived happily ever after in the mansion? Or would Grace, find the girls all a family to live with. Would Punjab work his magic and help everyone and save the day? Oh, so many ways the story could go and why not explore all of them? At an early age, I understood multiple universes because of TV shows like Quantum Leap. This could only mean every story had multiple layers and they needed to be explored and shared. I still feel that way, I have one story that will probably take me the rest of my life to finish because I want to write about each of the characters’ lives. Their stories deserve to be told, they have something to share and they have chosen me to work through. It is my duty as a creative being to write stories and share them with the world. You can see how excited I get about writing. I am excited right now to be writing. I had a long week at my full-time job that I enjoy and am grateful to have, but I would be lying if I said I would rather be working than writing, and writing is work, but it doesn’t feel like work, it is pure love and time stands still when I am in the writing zone. Thank you, universe.

What made you want to start writing or want to start writing? I would love to hear from you.

Thank you for being here with me today.

Until Next Time, Keep on Typing…