I'm on a roll. I found a little story I wrote some time ago in a creative writing class. I'll publish it here for all to see and critique. A little rough but gives a small incite into a child growing up in the 60's in the poor, middle class, north-end of Winnipeg.

Bannerman Avenue

It's quiet, my room is my sanctuary, my time temporarily, my own. Breakfast is done and my mother is doing laundry downstairs. I know that eventually I will be called on to help her and I savor the moments of quiet I have claimed for my own.

She calls up to me "Make sure you've got all your school clothes down to the wash!" "Yes Mom I answer" not that we have many. My little black tunic is already hanging up freshly pressed and is only one of two that I own. The other is already washed and on the clothes line outside along with my white cotton shirts. Black stockings and shoes complete our uniforms and squelch any impression of individuality we show. I hated those uniforms but they were a blessing really because no one sees how poor we really were. Our outdated, hand - me-downs were saved for our play times at home.

If you climb the stairs to our bedrooms you come to a landing dividing the two rooms where us kids slept. My dad, I think, built bookshelves on this landing and it became a home for an ancient set of The Book of Knowledge we received from one fo the brothers in our church. Tucked in amongst an assortment of folded sheets and towels, old drapes and boxes of magazines; it was promptly stored on the shelves on our stair landing and forgotten. Only my sister Aleta and I seemed to have discovered the mysteries in these books. Sadly modern days and the internet have made these volumes obsolete. Upon occasion I have come across these same books in second hand stores and flea markets where they still reside.

For the moment I've done my chores and my sisters are playing together in another part of the house. I retreat to my bed, it's cold outside and sitting there I am fascinated with the icy patterns of Jack Frost that coat the inside of my bedroom window. The frosty leaves and swirls weave together in a masterpiece of nature and never fail to amaze me with their delicacy and perfection. It is as though god came with a paint brush and painted each leaf and frond individually.

I could not find a better way to spend a sunday afternoon than gathering up a volume and gazing out the window of my bedroom. I would imagine the places I discovered in those musty and yellowed pages. Worn leather binding with loose threads barely holding the pages together. These books were my escape and took me to places that I had never seen and could only imagine. Even the pages were different than most books I usually read. Smooth, shiny paper with a yellowy tinge. Far more interesting than the average schoolbook.

What would it be today? A visit to the pyramids? An african safari? Or my favourite the last days of Pompeii. I would read the stories of the eruption of vesuvius and be fascinated and saddened by the pictures of statues of frozen people lying clasped in each others arms. They did not seem real or believable as corpses coated in a casing of lava. I tried to imagine living in this time. I felt very sad for the people who died in this tragedy. Volcanoes still hold a fascination for me, or a terror, that something of this magnitude could happen so quicky and catch people unaware in its grasp.

But not today, today I would read Aesops Fables. The little stories of hares and hounds were a lighter fae and much more suited to the afternoon at hand. I can hear my sisters arguing over some imagined slight and sigh deeply. I know this idyllic moment can not last much longer and the sounds of the old wringer washer chugging away interrupts my concentration.

I scratch my leg. The Hudsons Bay wool blanket that covers my bed tickles my legs and is normally covered by a chenille bedspread but today my mom is doing laundry. She finally clumps up the stairs with a stak of folded sheets, poking her head around my bedroom door.

"I need you downstairs" she says "come down and rinse the next load so we can get them hung up on the line." I laugh to myself. It's a weekly ritual in winter. The sheets will freeze like boards outside on the line and then we will have to bring them in to stand like frozen ghosts in our bathtub. Once they thaw they sit in soggy heaps in the tub and then we hang them up in the kitchen to dry. It never made sense to me but my Mom insisted that the process was followed. I have to admit the house always smelled so fresh laundry day, so I guess there was a reason for this madness. No spray cans of air freshener were ever needed in our home if there had been any available in this day and age.....

I close my book reluctantly and head downstairs. I know that Pompeii and the Pyramids will be waiting for me when next I visit. My book returns to it's home on the shelves and I return to my world at 768 Bannerman Avenue.

Well the pressures on!! My lovely heavily, addicted, ha ha blogger daughter is asking me to send her a synopsis of her childhood. Memory lane is packed in boxes etc. whilst we while away our time renovating our basement. Geez kid your timing is impeccable as always. I'll see what I can do for you my dear.

Of course for a first attempt I have the pictures in the wrong order. Picture #1 is big brother Mark helping you open gifts and play in birthday cake on your first birthday.

Picture #2 is of me with you under construction. Man was I ever that skinny!!

Picture #3 is of proud Dad and your first xmas. The address was 328 Boyd Avenue in Winnipeg. I will never forget those days. We didn't have a pot to pee in (if you'll pardon the expression as I'm not sure anymore what is politically correct LOL) but were happy just the same. Your Dad did just adore you. Your Dad made $5.25/hr working for coca-cola as a driver and that was big bucks. I went back to work when you were seven mths. old and made $2.00/hr. in a china dept. of a jewellry store. (Shades of things to come huh) That was a 10cent/hr raise from my previous job. You got six weeks off for maternity in those days.

We had a two bedroom suite in the top half of a big old house. It had hardwood floors that I waxed with paste wax and polished faithfully every week. I still love that smell. A big sun porch off of the back through the kitchen that was you kids playroom. It had windows all the way around and I hung my laundry out one of them on a clothesline that stretched to a power pole in the lane. Mark used to be just able to reach on his toes far enough to drop his toys out the windows into the old ukrainian ladies' yard next door. Good thing he didn't climb then. Scary. Old Annie she was a character. She'd yell up to him in her heavy accent "Marku, Marku why you thro your toys out! You gonna breakit my fence down!" He was only 15 months old and cute as a bug then. Ahh the good old days. I wonder if your dad ever thinks of them.

Anyway I think I will continue this on a later date this weekend. It tends to get me a little maudlin and with my menopausal moments I get depressed enough as it is. One would not think that the memories would come up and bite you in the butt like that but they do. Ta ta for now Luv

Well Xmas 2005 has come and gone. It was busy and peaceful at the same time. Too much work, too much to eat but some special times spent with special friends. I especially enjoyed a walk around our neighborhood, xmas day evening to take in our local xmas lite displays.

The house to the right is a heritage home and had approximately 10,000 led lites decorating house and garden. It was spectacular. Ever since my kids were little, one of my favorite xmas moments was driving around to look at all the lovely displays (Not that they probably knew this). Doing this now brings back fond memories and a creates a little melancholy during this season. It is something I very much miss. Our children just grew up too quickly. I'm still trying to figure out when that happened.

I didn't get done everything I wanted but everyone seemed pleased with our efforts for a lovely xmas dinner. We had homemade xmas crackers which went off with a bang!! We definitely didn't need any additional food or baking and I loved spoiling my daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren. Too much work and not enough time off until new years's made for some tiring days though.
















We actually took four days off at New years and spent them in Edmonton with friends. Our new years eve dinner was spent with our friends Bob and Angie and the entertainment was very understated. Watching them together (they didn't even dance together, they can't) I thought how very old Bob had gotten. I can't believe we dated for ashort time before I met Len (he actually introduced Len and I, and can't for the life of me see what I saw in him). Oh well we all have our moments. Angie is a sweetie and a compulsive collector. I wish I had taken a picture of her spare bedroom (closet LOL) I told her she had enough clothing in their to dress the entire city of Edmonton LOL.

I am signing off on this particualar post as it is not cooperating with me at all. Man I know computers are supposed to be logical but this one is really starting to pisss meee offfff!!!! I have done my darnedest to insert some pics but no way will they come through. Lets try a new post. Ta ta for now.