SO DISSAPONTING

I am going to cry, well not really, I would really love to have people make comments on what I have written. This tells me how they have related to what I have written. Is it of interest? Does it give enough information? What part of my blogging appealed to you? 

Would be great for any kind of comments or even a story of your own (with permission to have it written as well). 

I apologize for not writing as often as I should. 

Just this past month, my middle child was in a serious accident and did not live. I had him for 60 years to live and love him, others have not. It is difficult for them in his death. I grieve for the fact that they had not the advantage that I had in loving him. He will always be missed by everyone including his children. 

Today, October 24, I have finally finished writing my Cookbook called, "Sauces, Dressings, Gravies and Dips.". Hopefully it will soon be out in Kindle. 

 

A DREAM THAT SEEMED REAL.

 

I dream a lot and some dreams I remember and others I know I dreamed but can’t remember what it was about. Some are bad but others over time have become hilarious.

One such dream was while I was working at the local hotel. It had nothing to do with the customers, it was actually about one of the other waitresses that I worked with. To this day I don’t understand why it was her I picked on for this.

            I also still don’t understand why I picked on her children either. In a type of fog I dreamt that her children were picking on mine and making all our lives just terrible. It seemed I could not find a way to settle the fighting that went on between them.

            I was becoming very frustrated when out of the side of my vision and the surrounding fog I could see their mother coming forward striding out of the fog.  By this time I felt consumed by anger, why are her children antagonizing my children? Not waiting to find out the answer, I was determined to teach this mother a lesson in caring for her children. I could feel my fingers bunched into a fist and my determination rising. Bringing my fist back behind me, I was prepared to use it somehow. When she came closer, I brought my fist forward and swung as hard as I could.

            Wait a minute! My punch felt a bit to hard and heavy to be a dream. I must have hit something with my fist. I woke up!!! To my astonishment, I had punched my husband in the face and he was sitting on the other side of the queen sized bed. Oh no I thought, is that what I hit? Apparently I had, he was holding the side of his face with the most astonished look on his face. He apparently was in the process of touching me, when I lashed out with my fist.

            It was very difficult not to burst out laughing with the look on his face. I explained what was happening when he asked me what the heck I was doing. He struggled not to smile about it. I know I hurt him, but I was so relieved to know that he found the hilarious side of my dream when I explained what happened.  He told me that he would make sure that when he touch ed me while I was sleeping that it wasn't a light touch.

           

FAMILY GET TOGETHERS

     Throughout the years from 1970 to 1990's, most family gatherings took place at our home. That's not saying that we didn't gather at other family homes. During the early years Christmas was spent at both our parents. The children were young and went everywhere we went. At that time, we lived in Winnipeg and that necessitated that Christmas day was spent split between the two families. Dinner was spent at one place and supper was at the other. On Christmas day it was a guarantee that we would all be stuffed with food and loaded down with gifts. Every one received a gift that was there that day. 

    Every so often, gatherings would take place at Yvonne and Bob's home. Bob would get out his barbeque and in the middle of winter, start the barbeque up, even if it snowing outside. One year Bob gave Yvonne a picture window. He fired up the chain saw and began cutting an area on the south wall of the house. I have never known anyone to put in a window this way. It was probably a mild winter as the south side of the house had this big hole in it. We couldn't believe what was happening. Next thing we knew there were the men lifting into place this big picture window. I always remember that day, food, family and friends and memories. The tables were always piled high with food and at times we would all bring a dish of some kind to help out. Meals were rarely a sit down at Yvonne and 
Bobs place, there were never enough chairs to go around, so we sat wherever we found a place to sit. 

    Easter was usually at our place, one year all the brothers and sisters gathered together. We had a big house and somehow found a way to sit everyone at the tables. This one year the men began to play cards, an usual event that happened  at a gathering, and a drink or two on the table beside them. 

     I was doing the dishes and had placed the meat carving board, with those spikes on it, on a chair until I could get around to clean it and had shoved the chair under the table. Ron came out to the kitchen to refresh his drink and before I could say anything pulled the chair from the table and sat down on top of the meat cutting board. A new dance was invented as he sprang up two feet off that chair and danced, skipped and hopped around the kitchen holding his rear with one hand. A new vocabulary was also developed that day. Today I laugh my self silly over it. I couldn't laugh then or he would have conked me over the head with something as he certainly did not find it funny. 

    We played a lot of card games, mostly poker and a game I forget the name for. We laid three cards face down on the table. Well now if I haven't done gone forgot how it was played.  If we happened to meet during the summer, everyone vacated the house to the outside. Later, we had family and friends gatherings and potlucks and barbeques. 

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My Mother by Yvonne Cnudde (Ballegeer)

 

MOTHER or Mom as we called her, was a simple person whose life was dedicated to hard work and a matter of fact approach to life. She said what she thought and the world could take it or leave it.

 

Mom was the most independent person I have ever met. She asked for nothing that she could not accomplish herself.

 

Mom was also very stubborn and determined. While she was in the hospital she suffered a stroke which left her right side weak and I would find her trying to pull herself up to the rails of her bed. When asked what she was ding she said that she would not get stronger unless she worked at it. Many times she would ask to sit in a chair to “help her gain s strength” even though she was very weak and tired; she amazed the Doctor and those that cares for her with her ability to fight back when everyone else had given up hope for her recovery. Mother never gave up hope and she was determined that she was going to get better. She never lacked in hope and determination.

 

One dream she had was to have her oldest child graduate from high school. No one in her family had ever done so and I was the oldest. She fought tooth and nail to see that I got the five miles into town so I could complete the three years I needed so that o could complete grade 12. Then she made a trip into Winnipeg to buy the most wonderful gown so I could be like the other girls when I graduated. Talk about pressure. I did not dare fail

 

Sometime during these high school years Mom went out and found herself a job in the kitchen at Pilot Mound hospital. This was so that we kids cold have some of things in life that she thought we should have. Very little of her salary went towards giving herself any of these nice things. Beside her job she milked cows, raised chickens, baked all the family bread, did all the other baking needed, and canned and froze things to use during the winter to feed the family. She grew raspberries, strawberries, plums and apples for sale as well as for our own use. she grew a huge garden and kept a shiny clean household with none of the modern conveniences that we have today. We kids were expected to help of course and no arguments would save us from our chores. Her example taught us that hard work and tenacity was the only acceptable way of life.

 

During this time she also knitted sweaters, mitts and socks for the family. Found time to do her fancy work which was embroidery work and crocheting doilies. She crocheted many countless small pieces for fed spread and a number of table sized pieces.

 

She spent countless hours at the sewing marching making lovely quilts which she shared with us and others. Mom also made her own clothes, many of which were made out of something that had been given to her.

 

One day she announced that she was going to sell Tupperware. For many years she was the Tupperware Lade that did house parties far and wide. People to this day will tell me they knew my mother because she sold them Tupperware. She was very dedicated to the product as here home was very well stocked with it. She also sold Regal and bought things for the home with her earnings.

 

Then she discovered Bingo. She was an extremely lucky bingo player and on occasions won quite large sums of money. How she loved her bingo buddies and remained friends with them right up to her death. She asked many times for Edith and yogi as they were her close neighbours and accompanied her to her bingo genomes. Often giving her rides and even caring for her as her health declined.

 

Another activity my mother loved was travelling. She developed a taste for it accompanying my oldres5t brother Arthur and his wife Linda on many trips to Florida, Las Vegas and many other places. She also visited Vancouver and Oregon with my daughter Tammy and me. Later she began to take bus tours. Her sister Bert and Mom travelled all over North America. They enjoyed their trips together and came home with lots of pictures and adventures to talk about.

 

She kept close ties with her four sisters, three of which are now deceased. Her youngest sister Rose was very faithful, visiting her frequently and spending time with her. Rose and Elton spent many hours at the hospital in her last days showing love and support.

Mom had tragedies in her life time. Our life was divided into two parts, before the fire and after the fire. On Nov 14^th 1946 the farm home burned to the ground. She discovered (actually Cecile smelled smoke and called her mother) the fire raging at its fullest as we were all still sleeping very early that morning. She single handily saved me and my sister Cecile from the flames then returned into the house to save my youngest sister Aline. One that stuck in my mind was that she also got blankets and threw them out so that we would not be cold. My two older brothers Rene and Eugene were sleeping upstairs. She called and called to wake them for there was no way she could get to them. Rene jumped out of the second story window but Eugene never made it out. Rene died the next day from extensive burns. Mom was very badly burned about her face and arms and upper back. She spent many weeks in the hospital fighting for her own life as medicine was not up to today’s standards.

 

 She refused plastic surgery as there was no money available. Later in her life she had to have surgery on some of the scars as they were restricting movement6 of her arms. The funny thing about her scars is that I never noticed them when I looked at her. During her hospital stay in the last two and a half months I realized that a lot of her scars had faded. Mother mourned the loss of her two oldest sons the rest of her life. even in the last few weeks she suffered terrible nightmares all dealing with fire. She told me of the many days that she was afraid to sleep because of her dreams. They were very real to her.

 

At one point I accused her of “not liking my husband Bob”. She had always felt that I had married too young, before I could have a career. She looked at me, nailing me with those expressive eyes and stated “Hun He was always to goof for you”. As usual she was probably right. The last word she said to me before she lapsed t into a coma was “Bob”.

 

One night just shortly before she lost her ability to express herself, I was saying good n night to her and she waved her hand for me to come closer. I bent over her and she put her arm around my nick and pulled me down close and kissed me on the cheek. She had never been a kissy huggy type of mother and that action left me in tears.

 

She showed a fantastic sense of humour also. She adored her doctor, Doctor Desmond. He would come to see her every morning and have a little chat with her. One day after his visit the nurses were teasing her and told her to ask Doctor Desmond for a kiss when he came the next day. When he arrived the next morning she did ask him for a kiss, not for herself but for hew daughters as she said no one wanted to kiss an old lady. This was done with a twinkle in her eye.

 

Another hilarious incident was over a bottle of beer. Mother decided one Sunday that she wanted a bottle of beer. Now I have never known her to drink even one bottle of beer. She even said she would not come to my wedding if alcohol was served. Ho9w ever this Sunday afternoon she wanted a beer. My sister and I told that we could not get her a beer as it was Sunday and the bar was closed. She talked and talked about the beer so I finally told my sister to call my husband Bob and to get him to bring mom a beer. An hour later Bob arrives with her beer, she was so happy that he drove all the way from Holland to bring her a beer. A little while later as I was giving her a drink of juice and she motioned to me to come closer. She whispered in my ear “you didn’t put beer in it did you? I can’t drink it if you did as I am not used to beer.” She then decided that she would share the beer with Doctor Desmond the next morning. Mom never did drink her beer but she brought lots of smiles to peoples faces because of her beer.

 

Mother did have a close friend and confidant. If any of you noticed, there is picture here of a cat. “Stupid” has kept her company for many years. The cats name has made many people wonder who she was speaking to when she talked to Stupid. Just after she got this cat it stayed out over night and froze its ears and tail. She told the cat it was stupid for staying out in the cold and the name stuck. When she became ill and had to be hospitalized, she missed Stupid greatly.

 

Mom loved her “Kids” as it wasn’t easy for her to express it and it wasn’t easy for her to praise us for she felt is we did well in something it was only what she expected. If we did not do well she still supported us as much as she could, often at great sacrifice to herself. I hope everyone appreciates the sacrifices she had done.

 

As I said earlier Mother marched to her own drummer. She helped me realize that this was an OK thing to do. She was a strong determined woman who lived her life the best she knew how and that it wasn’t anyone’s right to tell her any different.

 

 

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An extraordinary Thanksgiving

 

It was 1962 and October 15, Thanksgiving around 3:00 AM in the morning when the pains started, I nudged my husband and told him I had to go to the hospital. It was  -50 outside and no vehicles were running, not even the taxies. Finally the Thompson propane gas truck started and off we went to the hospital.

            I was settled in the maternity ward and my husband sat with me until it was time for him to go to work. I breathed a sigh of relief when he left and got down to business.  The labour pains began to be much closer, I told the nurse that the baby was coming. She exclaimed that it couldn't be as a first baby was never fast. I told her this one was but she still didn't believe me. She left prepared to wait for the major event to happen and went to phone for the Dr. Well, it happened. I let out a screech and she came tearing back. She told me to be quiet as I could be heard all over the hospital. I told her again, the baby is coming, and she still wouldn't believe me until I insisted she check. "Good Grief" she exclaimed "the baby has crowned" and went tearing out of the room.

            I was in full labour I had tried to tell the nurse but she just wouldn't listen. In what I would say was 'in a twinkling of an eye' she was back with another nurse and a gurney. We need to get you to the labour room right away she said. I worked my way on to the gurney and when I was 'sort of' on it, she began to wheel me to the labour room. I shuffled myself onto the delivery table and managed to get one leg onto the stirrups and had no sooner got the other leg in position when I felt the baby coming. 'Its coming' and I don't know if I screeched it or screamed it. The nurse took one look and exclaimed 'Oh my Gosh' and had to grab for the baby, it was coming and fast. Between the two nurses, they delivered our daughter. She had beat the Dr. to being delivered.

            The bill was eventually given to us. A grand total of $75.00.

            We named her after her aunt that had so tragically died when she was sixteen years of age. It wasn't until she was four years of age that it was discovered she was deaf. Profoundly deaf they said. This was something that a person always thought to themselves that “ it will never happen to us”. Well it did happen, and now what are we suppose to do?

            We explored the options as we heard about them. With help from organizations and family and friends, we moved into Winnipeg and our daughter eventually had her grade nine and went on to college. Today she is married and has three grown children and three granddaughters. Life does go on regardless of our difficulties. They can be overcome.

 

HORSERADISH

 

I never knew that horseradish was one of my father's favorite dishes until he came to visit us one day.

I used to grow my own horseradish as it had a more distinct flavour to it. This day I had dug up a fair amount and had spent an hour cleaning and grinding it. Every few seconds I would have to wait until my vision cleared because the vapour from the horseradish was very strong as it was being ground. I imagine I sure looked funny, was probably a good thing there was no one there at the time. I finished my chore and put it in jars, capped them and cleaned the area up.

By this time it was supper time and I had to get the meal ready. Since I had the horseradish, I roasted beef to go with it. I included the usual items, such as potatoes, vegetables, whatever else they wanted and dessert.

My father was in seventh heaven by the look on his face. He dug in and loaded his plate up including the horseradish. "Good" he exclaimed. "Horseradish".  We passed the dish to him and he proceeded to use a tablespoon to spoon it out onto his plate. Before I could say to him that I had just crushed and that it was pure, he shoved a loaded tablespoon of it into his mouth. All of our mouths dropped open and then he said, "Lord that was good".

 

THE HEN HOUSE

     The first hen house my parents had was a small shed which I hated. That was because it always seemed to be the one I would have to go and clean it out. Every Saturday, never failed. I cringed and between the chicken shit smell and those tiny red mites, I shuddered, and cursed the occasional "chicken hawk". I worked as fast as I could to get out of there.
     Dad then renovated the log building that was in the barn yard and put the chickens in there. He built a long box from one end of the building to the other
end of the building and put in dividers. There the hens settled in quite contentedly and laid their eggs. This was fine for a few years until the weasel dug its way into the hen house and raised  pandemonium.
    The night the weasel raised havoc, my younger sister, Aline and I were at home alone. Mom and Dad had gone somewhere, can't remember where now. I heard the chickens raise a raucous. The only thing that I could think of that would bother the hens in the hen house was an animal of some sort that had gotten into the hen house. I ran out of the house and across the yard to where the hen house was and opened the door. As I looked inside I saw the weasel, it looked at me and I looked at it and I screamed at it. Somewhere along the way I had picked up a stick of some kind, can't think what it was anymore. Chickens squawked, the weasel snarled, I was screaming at it and with all the commotion, it took off at a fast pace back through the hole it had made.
     I looked around to see what damage this creature  had done. I knew that weasels sucked the blood from animals like a vampire. There the chickens lay, dead and I don't remember how many there was now. I ran back up to the house, grabbed the sleigh went back to the hen house, loaded the sleigh with as many chickens as I could and took them back to the house. Next I grabbed the wheel barrel and away I went, filled it up and back to the house. Can't remember how many were left yet to get.
     I found one of the tubs mom used put it on the stove burners and filled it with water and let it come to steaming hot. Dunking in the chickens, one at a time, I began to strip off the feathers. These chickens were our winter meat, no darn weasel was going to take that away from me. I had stripped about ten of the birds, no insides were taken out as of yet, when my parents walked in the door. After a short period of shock, they let me explain what happened and took over that daunting job of cleaning all those chickens.
     Soon after that event, my father built a new building for them, but it didn't seem to keep them any safer. I was the one that usually picked the eggs at choring time and every so often see mice or rats and at different occasions muskrats. I was more afraid of it than I was of the weasel. Muscrats are terribly vicious when cornered. One time, a wild cat had climbed up into the rafters and it took dad a couple of days to get rid of it, really can't remember now how he did it, but probably shot it. No peace for the farmer its said.