• Aboot:

Epiphabets

~ My.Daily.Distraction

Epiphabets

Tag Archives: Grandmothers

The Book Of Thank You ~ Post 7: The Canadian National Exhibition

01 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by duckykoren in Childhood, Education, Entertainment, Family Stories, Father, Grandmothers, Ice Cream, relationships, Rock And Roll, Thanks, Toronto, Tourism, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Children, Family, ferris wheel, grandfathers, Grandmothers, grief, midway, Music, Platters, Stories, Toronto, Travel, Writing

 

The month of August always brings thoughts of a family tradition started by my Father in 1966.

That is when we would make our annual visit to the Canadian National Exhibition, or more commonly known to the people of Toronto as the C.N.E.

On the last day of school in late June, every child would be given a free children’s pass to this annual event.

Father was never one to let something free pass him by.

Set in the middle of downtown Toronto and bordering on Lake Ontario, the C.N.E. covers 192 acres of ground filled with a stadium, bandshell, coliseum, midway, fountains, picnic areas and much more.

Using Toronto’s public transportation, Father and I always went on the first Saturday after the grand opening. This usually coincided with the annual grand Scottish Tattoo parades where the sounds of bagpipes could be heard at every turn.

My Father didn’t care for bagpipes, and I remember how he would cover his ears and whisk me off to a quieter venue, a building perhaps, one of the many which would showcase countries from around the world, cars, or home shows.

The food building was a grand concourse featuring kiosks of cuisine from all over the world. I was partial to the corn dogs, while Father always contented himself with a cardboard bowl of spaghetti which cost only twenty-five cents.

Throughout the course of the day we collected free magazines, brochures, samples and souvenirs. By the time we left at the end of the day we would usually have three full bags of treasure to take home. I carried one while Father carried two.

I was allowed to purchase one souvenir of choice which was usually a punching ball, or an invisible dog leash.

The last time that I went to the C.N.E. with my Father was in the early 1990’s.

We brought my two young daughters to share the experience with us.

What I remember the most about that day was when we went to the bandshell where their was a rock and roll revival being held hosted by Bowser from the group SHA-NA-NA. We found a patch of grass to stand and watch. While the Platters were on stage singing their hit UNDER THE BOARDWALK, my daughters and I twirled and danced to the music.

Those were very happy moments.

In 1969, while my Father was away on business, my Grandparents took me for my annual pilgrimage to the C.N.E.

All these years later, it’s hard for me to decide which memories of that day are dearest to me.

Is it the memories of going on the Ferris wheel with my Grandmother?

She handled my rocking the carriage very well. I could be a handful at times.

Shortly after that, as I took another turn on the Ferris wheel alone, she won me an orange stuffed teddy bear. To this day, I think she paid off the carnie just so that she could see the joy on my face as she presented me with a new toy. I named the bear Godfrey.

We were very fortunate that day as our visit to the C.N.E. coincided with the visit of Canada’s current Prime Minister, Pierre Elliot Trudeau, who was there for a cinematic premiere at the Queen Elizabeth building.

My Grandmother and I stood less than ten feet from him as he stood for photographs and welcoming speeches.

At one point, he turned his head left, looked at me and smiled. I smiled back.

Now, my Grandmother has always been of the opinion that the Prime Minister was smiling at her and not me.

Indeed, every time that we found ourselves together in the following thirty-five years we would lovingly spar  with each other over this:

“Trudeau was laughing at me…” she’s say.

“No, he was laughing at me…” I’d respond.

Then we would end the discussion by laughing at ourselves.

One of the last times that I visited the C.N.E. Was in 2005, seven months after my Father had passed away. I brought my two daughters and a good friend.

We made new memories as we walked our way through trapeze artists, upside down rides, tall cups of lemonade, tall ships, log flumes, ice cream, all behind the beautiful backdrop of the Toronto skyline.

It was good to be reacquainted with one of my childhood joys and be able to set aside my lingering grief.

Thank you C.N.E. for those new memories.

May there be many more.

 

 

❤

My Daily Distraction ~ Post 198: Carpe Beanum: Seize The Coffee

04 Saturday Jun 2016

Posted by duckykoren in Family, Family Stories, Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Family, Grandmothers, Stories, Travel

image

 

Carpe Beanum… Seize The Coffee!

Some memories never fade.

It was just this morning as I was making the coffee when I remembered back to the times when my husband and I brought our young children to Toronto to visit their great grandparents.

During our visits with my Grandparents, came the time when we had our inevitable “Kaffeeklatch,” which is the Gernan equivalent for British “Tea Time.”

That was when Oma and I would busy ourselves in her kitchen. She would prepare her signature dessert, fried Ochsenaugen, which are quite similar to our well known Canadian Timbits.

Then, she would always designate me to make the coffee.

Now, thirty years later I can still hear my Grandmother, or Oma as we called her, instructing me in German with a firm, yet loving tone of voice to:

“Mach es eine gute caffee!”

Which in English means:

“Make it a good coffee!”

This morning, as I dipped the measuring spoon into the awaiting ground coffee beans I could feel that memory ever so gently guiding my hand to scoop up just the right amount…

… Plus a little bit more!

After taking three sips of the resulting perfect cup of coffee, I knew I had indeed made…

“Eine gute caffee.”

I am fully confident that I will always have the ability to do so.

And for this, as I savour the morning coffee down to the final few sips…

…I find myself most grateful.

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 161: Creamsicle

01 Wednesday Apr 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Art, Crafts, DIY, Knitting, Spinning

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Art, batt, carder, Colour, creamsicle, Grandmothers, handspun, ice cream, Knitting, poonie, Spinning, Wool, Yarn

image

My daughter got a new toy in the mail yesterday. It’s a huge wooden contraption about the size of a fax machine with all sorts of knobs and levers.

She calls it a carder.

It’s used to prepare wool fleece for spinning.

Along with this carder, she received a mountain of brightly coloured fleeces that the vendor included with the order. After my daughter showed them off to me she said:

“Go on, pick out some colours.”

I chose hot pink and black, with a sprinkle of silver sparkles on the side. It’s a colour combination that I’ve always wanted to try but had yet to find. I asked her if she could spin enough yarn in this colour way so that I could knit some hand warmers.

“Yes,” she answered.

For half an hour, she smoothed, combed, scraped, and cranked the fleece until all of the colours were seamlessly combined.

When it was all over she handed me the finished product. A poofy square, about the size of a small loaf of bread.

“Is this a poonie?” I asked her. A poonie is the small clump of fleece that you spin into wool.

“No, it’s a batt, ” she responded.

I rolled my eyes. I should have known better. Poonies were much smaller than a batt. I was never going to get this spinner’s jargon right.

By the end of the evening, she held out another poofy pillow of wool to me, her second creation, courtesy of her new beloved carder. The tangerines, yellows and golden sparkles that she had incorporated into this particular batt was breathtaking.

“I’m calling this colour: Creamsicle,” she announced.

“Why?” I asked her.

“Because it reminds me of all the creamsicles that Oma gave me.

(Oma was her her Great Grandmother, my Grandmother.)

As I took another look at the tangerine fluff, I had a sweet moment.

Sweet, because of all the eye candy colours of wool before me…

Sweet because as I beheld that pillow of tangerine wooly bliss I could almost taste that creamsicle…

Sweet because I was blessed with such a special Grandmother.

Sweet because soon, we are going to be up to our cahoonies in poonies.

❤

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 139: Farewell Faux Pas

10 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Humour

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Birthdays, Family, Grandmothers, Humour

I was taught to be polite.

I’m sure that the same can be said of my cousins, aunts, uncles, parents and grandparents.

We were all well mannered.

Needless to say, it’s inevitable that from time to time someone breaks ranks.

Hopefully, the offending faux pas will be innocent, humorous and memorable.

Happily, this story contains all three of those qualities.

It was my Grandmother’s 90th birthday.

Friends and family had gathered in a reserved room inside the senior’s home for her birthday party.

My aunt did an exemplary job in making all of the arrangements. There were flowers, balloons, presents, cake, cookies, coffee and tea.

We talked, we sang, we laughed.

After two hours of non stop festivities, we could see that my Grandmother was quickly getting tired and starting to fade.

After we all said our goodbyes, she was taken by wheelchair into the hallway and steered towards the elevator. We all walked along with her thinking that it would make for a nice send off and hoping that our cheery smiles would keep any potential loneliness at bay.

As she was being wheeled into the elevator we heard her cheery and weary voice say as she waved us off…

“Thank you for coming.”

Then continuing on in her cheery and weary voice, the last words we heard her say before the elevator doors closed shut were:

“Thank you for going…”

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 125: S.W.A.K.

24 Tuesday Feb 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Authors, Aviation, Books

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Antoine De Saint Exupery, Authors, Friends, Grandmothers, Hearts, letters, Mail, Planes, Post Office

I will always regret that I never gave my Grandmother a tour of the post office where I work, while I still had the chance.

She was the most prolific letter writer I’ve ever known. She loved sending letters. Indeed, she would take time out of every day and write out postcards and letters to friends and family.

I would have shown her that the post office is more vibrantly mechanized than she could have ever imagined. From the tow motors carrying big steel cages crammed with parcels and containers of mail, to the video coding desks, culling belts and letter sorting machines, she would have loved the magic that she was witnessing.

However to me, it’s just organized chaos.

The plant where I work is full of machines that can each process almost 50,000 pieces of mail an hour.

During the Christmas period, 1.5 million pieces of mail are dumped, machined, sorted and dispatched each twenty-four hour period.

That’s a lot of mail.

One of my favourite authors, Antoine De Saint Exupery, author of ‘The Little Prince’ was among the first pilots to ever fly mail from point to point.

In his book Wind Sand and Stars, he eloquently recorded his thoughts as he flew his plane with it’s cargo of mail over the Sahara Desert.

Mail in the late 1930’s was very different from what it is now.

Today the majority of mail is business related. The mail stream consists mostly of credit card bills, receipts, invoices, account statements, and of course junk mail.

However, back then the mail consisted almost entirely of personal letters. These were letters from mother to son, husband to wife, friend to friend, beloved to beloved.

And so, as this pilot and author flew high in the sky alone at night with his cargo, he marvelled at the stars above and pondered the points of light below while trying to imagine the precious contents of the letters. Antoine De Saint Exupery firmly believed that he was doing an important task. The letters he carried contained validations of love and friendship from loved ones separated by time and distance.

It was indeed a different world back then and I wish we could get some of it back.

It might do our digitized hearts some good.

❤

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 115: Thoughts On Valentine’s Day

14 Saturday Feb 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Family, Flowers, Gardening, Gardens, gifts, Holidays, love, shopping, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

#joy, bouquets, Cleveland, Family, flowers, Grandmothers, love, valentines day

After my paternal Grandmother passed away in 1976, I remember my Aunt from Cleveland telling me how they had to go through all the books and magazines in the house looking for the money that they knew she had stashed away.

They found almost four hundred dollars.

Remember, this was 1976 when you could still get a new car for three thousand dollars, and bread was thirty cents a loaf.

The money had been gifts she received from her nine sons and daughters for celebratory occasions throughout the year like birthdays, Mother’s Day and Christmas.

My Grandmother was a very simple woman who had very few wants.

Grandmother, who we called ‘Oma’ told me that one day on a whim she bought a tube of lipstick. She only wore it once.

A diligent housewife, baker, cook and churchgoer, my Grandmother along with my Grandfather kept a beautiful garden filled with flowers, vegetables and fruit trees behind their modest little house in the Cleveland suburbs.

It brought them sustainable joy that lasted year round.

“She never wanted money,” my aunt told me.

“She told us that if we wanted to give her something to just send flowers.”

“She only wanted flowers.”

Yes, the four hundred dollars they found was a great deal of money then.

It could have bought my Grandmother many bouquets.

Some would say that sending flowers is frivolous and expensive.

I would disagree.

For some, there is a sense of joy that can be gained just by the presence of flowers in the room. Flowers whose lovely fragrance can be taken in for a momentary heady rush.

And then taken in again.

Some people, not nearly enough mind you…

….live for those moments.

And so, this being Valentines Day, I would ask that you consider giving someone you love flowers.

Yes, flowers can be fleeting…

…but so is time.

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 105: My Grandmother, The Wrap Artist

04 Wednesday Feb 2015

Posted by duckykoren in American Civil War, Crafts, DIY

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Art, Coffee, crafts, curling ribbon, DIY, gifts, Grandmothers, Iron, Presents, Toys, wrapping paper

My Mother was never one for fussing when it came to wrapping presents.

And that’s okay…

Each according to their own gifts, remember.

(No pun intended… Really.)

My Grandmother, on the other hand loved, loved, loved to wrap presents.

And the curling ribbon…

….Oh, the curling ribbon!

She would have so much curling ribbon on a gift that the ribbon looked like a little wig of colourful tresses.

And she would recycle her wrapping paper too!

She had been known to iron the wrapping paper she selvaged from a birthday party or other happy family gathering.

Whenever we went over to my Grandparent’s house for dinner, my Grandmother would always place beautifully wrapped little presents waiting for us next to our dinner plates.

The children usually got little toys.

I would get serviettes or a decorative little bauble or two.

And Frank would always unwrap his gift to find a pound of ground coffee.

Her greatest gift of all however came to us without fancy wrappings or curly, shiny ribbon.

It was her.

Her love, her exuberance, her wonderful nature…

That was the best gift of all.

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 103: Grandmother’s Ice Cream Money

02 Monday Feb 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Food, God, Heaven, Ice Cream, Money, Stories

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Aunt, blogs, Cousins, Double Dip, God, Grandchildren, grandfathers, Grandmothers, Heaven, ice cream, Ice Cream Cone, love, money, Treats, True Story, Writing

I loved my Grandmother very much.

She knew instinctively what it took to make her grandchildren happy.

Ice cream was one of those ways.

When I was a little girl, she would quietly take aside, look around to see if anyone was watching, and then carefully slip some money into the palm of my hand. Then she would whisper to ensure that no one would hear…

“This is for ice cream…”

…Don’t tell your Grandfather.”

With an obeying nod, I solemnly gave her my promise.

I’m sure my cousins share these same memories…

Yes, we loved ice cream, but Grandmother loved ice cream even more.

My Aunt once shared with me that when Grandmother came to visit the family for several weeks, she always left a little rounder than when she first arrived. I have no doubt that this stemmed from sharing her love of ice cream with all of her grandchildren.

So, now that she is no longer with us and has been taken up to heaven, I cannot help but wonder if she is in any way able to get a double dip.

As Christians, we were always taught that “God will provide.” Some would say that God will provide us with our needs.

Well, I know for a fact that for my Grandmother ice cream was a necessity.

So, when I get to heaven, I fully expect her to immediately take me quietly aside.

Then, like before, she will carefully slip some money into the palm of my hand and whisper:

“This is for ice cream…

…Don’t tell God!”

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post Eighty One: The Lord Is My Pace-Setter

11 Sunday Jan 2015

Posted by duckykoren in bible, Faith, Family, Grief, Psalms, Religion, spiritual

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Apollo, Archives, Aunts, Bible, Brazil, Faith, Family, First Lady, Grandmothers, Green, Lord, miracles, Pat Nixon, Psalm 23, psalms, Religion, scrapbooks, Tante

It’s an funny thing…

The less I look for miracles, the more I find them.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that I find miracles on a daily basis. The trick is to be open to the possibilities, and then having the presence of mind to recognize a miracle when you see one.

Every now and again, my eyes fall upon a spiral bound green school book scrap-book which sits in one of my bookshelves. It is part of my grandparent’s archives which has been in my keeping for almost a decade now.

This rather ordinary looking notebook is the account of a North American visit made by my great-aunt (my grandmother’s sister) in 1972. It was during this visit that I met her for the first and only time. I was amazed at how much she reminded me of my grandmother.

I knew her as Tante Annie.

That was the last journey she made away from her home in Brazil where she spent her life working as a nurse in a seniors home caring for the ill and dying.

This scrapbook is filled with newspaper clippings, ticket stubs, letters, stamps, and various dried foliage. It is identical in nature to the scrapbooks my Grandmother kept.

This well preserved scrapbook is like a time tunnel back to the days when Pat Nixon was the First Lady, air travel was pleasurable, and the Apollo Moon landing was still fresh in our minds.

It’s unfortunate that this scrapbook is likely one of the last Earthly markers of life, as she passed away in September 1974.

Inside, her green scrapbook, I once found a colourful card cut out and carefully pasted onto one of the school-book’s pages.

It is simply titled “Psalm 23”.

This passage has been a constant denominator in my life. I have memories as a very young child whenever adults gathered to remember a loved one who has passed on these verses would be recited in unison to help battle the loss and grief.

The last time I ever saw my paternal Grandmother, Oma Schon, we read it together as we sat on her bed. I’ll never forget her tears as she closed her Bible.

The 23 Psalm was read at the passing of both my parents.

However, here is a version that I have not read before.

It goes….

“The Lord is my Pace-Setter, I shall not rush;

He makes me stop and rest for quiet intervals.

He provides me with images of stillness,

which restore my serenity;

He leads me in the way of efficiency

through calmness of mind,

And his guidance is peace.

Even though I have a great many things

to accomplish each day,

I will not fret, for his presence is here.

His timelessness, His all importance

will keep me in balance.

He prepares refreshment and renewal

in the midst of my activity

By anointing my mind

with his oils of tranquility.

My cup of joyous energy overflows.

Surely harmony and effectiveness

shall be the fruits of my hours,

For I shall walk in the pace of my Lord

and dwell in his house for ever.” *

I consider this reading passage as a gift from my Tante Annie, to be read, treasured, and to remember her by.

I hope that somehow, some way, you may find it useful too.

❤

*Translation of the Japanese version by Toki Miyashina from Psalm 23, copyright by K.H. Strange, 1969, and published by The Saint Andrew Press, Edinburgh

Post 72: M Is For Muse

31 Wednesday Dec 2014

Posted by duckykoren in Humour, Stories, Travel

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

astronomers, Grandmothers, Humour, Science, Stephen Hawkings, Stories, thumbs

My Grandmother was quite possibly, the greatest muser of all.

I remember as a child, riding in the back seat with her on long car trips. She would spend hours and hours doing the following three things.

Watch the passing scenery through the car windows.

Twiddle her thumbs.

Muse.

There came a point when I asked her…

“Oma, don’t you ever get bored twiddling your thumbs?”

“Oh yes,” she immediately replied, “I get very bored.”

“Well,” I then asked her…

“What do you do when you get bored”?

“I do this…”

At that moment, my grandmother’s thumbs stopped twiddling and froze in place.

After a few moments silence… before my very own eyes… they began to twiddle again…

– however, now they were being twiddled in the opposite direction.

That story has given me an enormous amount of muse over the decades since that wonderful revelation.

There’s nothing like a good inner dialogue of muse to transport us away from the tedium of long waits in line, the drive home, the moments just before we fall asleep.

To further help me explain the importance of muse are two sweet true stories.

The first was told by Stephen Hawking’s mother.

During a party, guests became concerned when they noticed the physicist had separated himself to a far away corner of the house where he laid down his head and closed his eyes. Worried that he was in pain, they approached his mother and addressed their fears.

Undaunted, his mother approached her son, leaned down and whispered into his ear:

“Now, Stephen dear, I know that you’re perfectly content to sit here all alone while you contemplate your theories, but you must now come along as you have worried your guests.”

The second true story is about a brilliant Russian scientist who was always so preoccupied with theorems and scientific calculations that he could only be given the simplest of tasks when at home.

His wife told the camera how he only had the ability to fetch water or potatoes because his mind was always entrenched in the mysteries of the cosmos.

The story then continued to tell how he one day decided to sell his car, so that the hour long commute to work could be spent figuring out his theories rather than having to concentrate on the traffic.

And of course, let us not forget the following:

Had it not been for the muses of the ancients we would not have mythology, stories, heros, folklore or even starry constellations.

I’ve learned that it’s best not to disturb those who appear to be happily lost amidst their own thoughts and musings… because quite frankly, usually what I have to say can wait.

Because chances are, that good, thoughtful and interesting inner muse can be far more powerful and healing than anything I could ever say.

← Older posts

Archives

  • August 2019 (2)
  • July 2019 (1)
  • June 2019 (7)
  • May 2019 (4)
  • June 2018 (3)
  • May 2018 (4)
  • January 2018 (6)
  • August 2016 (1)
  • July 2016 (6)
  • June 2016 (1)
  • August 2015 (4)
  • July 2015 (10)
  • June 2015 (5)
  • May 2015 (5)
  • April 2015 (14)
  • March 2015 (31)
  • February 2015 (28)
  • January 2015 (30)
  • December 2014 (29)
  • November 2014 (44)
  • October 2014 (24)
  • September 2014 (23)
  • August 2014 (31)
  • July 2014 (33)
  • June 2014 (28)
  • February 2014 (1)
  • November 2013 (9)
  • October 2013 (3)

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • Epiphabets
    • Join 3,579 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Epiphabets
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...