Expat City Mouse

... would like some cheese with her whine.

When the City Mouse moves to the country, a few things change for her. Or maybe it is more accurate to say, a few things stay the same. Most things change.

I have found myself with a crazy desire for art and beauty. While reading Peter and the Wolf to Anna last night, and explaining to her the difference between a clarinet and an oboe, and describing a bassoon (which with the help of my new best friend Youtube, she was able to hear a proper demonstration) I realized it had been soooo long since I had seen any of these exotic wonders in person. I used to see them on a daily basis in high school during orchestra rehearsals. Now all I see is fiddle, guitar, piano. Ever.
So Youtube is my friend because I am able to watch classical concerts and ballets and modern dance recitals in the comfort of my own home.

Jenni trivia: Did you know I never actually wanted to play the violin? As a wee bairn I always dreamed of playing the flute or cello. But never violin. I enjoy it now and all, but it wasn't my first choice. Neither was Irish. I wanted to speak French. God had other plans I guess! A French- speaking flute player is more how I envisioned myself.

City Mouse misses all the fancy city stuff from her home town- er- city. She misses museums. She really misses classical concerts. Because of my connections I was able to see the KC Symphony almost on a weekly basis, for only $4 a concert. I told myself I would attend some concerts when I was in Toronto, but at $75 a pop for nosebleed, I said nevermind. Also on a near-weekly basis, I attended concerts of the top chamber musicians doing international tours. I was so spoiled, and I had no idea. My church had fantastic musicians and enthusiastic parishioners. My family thought I was a marvel and a wonder. I visited indie coffeehouses and indie rock concerts with great regularity as well. I read books, attended museums, poetry readings and festivals. I had dozens of friends in university, from every nation I ever heard of and many I hadn't.

Now, I sit home 6 days a week, I haven't laid eyes on a wind instrument live in 6 years, and thank God there are a few Africans visiting the university here that attend my church or I would forget what black people looked like. The only art I see is in the medium of crayon or play-doh. The only international cuisine I get is what I attempt. My 7th day outing includes the same 2 buildings every week: church, grocery store. Drive straight there, straight home. You can imagine my thrill when I stop at the beautiful coffee shop on the way home. Not often do I do this, for reasons of time and money. But I enjoy it immensely when I do. So I generally see 4 buildings: my home, my mother in law's, church and grocery store.`

I dream about Toronto. Although my hubby would prefer a Lucifer's Lake of Fire Cruise Ship vacation to visiting there, it puts a smile on my face every time I think about it.

In my desperation for some fine art culture, I started practicing some classical music on my violin. I even did some improv along with some solo classical piano recordings: the closest I've had to playing in a chamber ensemble in a long while.

I had to get all this negativity out before American Thanksgiving. Maybe this is Canadian Ungrateful Day. Maybe this blog entry is how I celebrated it. Weehoo! What a celebration! Do I know how to party or what!!??

All this being said, folks, you know i will be back around to chipper and thankful in a matter of hours. You just hit the blog-timing jackpot for crummy content.

I am super excited to report, that I get to go out of town this weekend. I'm really looking forward to it, as you can easily ascertain from this blather.

blabby bloggy

Optimism is on vacation in Florida.

I miss music. I miss long extended sessions of sitting with tapes, rooting through someone's obscure repertoire and gleaning some new choice prizes for mine. I miss the inspiration of learning. Music and otherwise. I miss the chemistry of playing music with other humans. Laughing and enjoying each other's company.

I get tired of no sidewalks and that means muddy shoes.
I get tired of insufficient social interaction and seeing something besides my own kitchen rather infrequently.
And there's a few others,
But when Spring, glorious Spring comes, and I walk even so much as down my driveway, and the crisp sea wind blows my hair back, and I smell the chlorophyll and the wildflower blossoms, and look out to the ocean, the brilliant blue sky, the whole earth is just bursting with rejoicing and praise, exalting its Creator, I am recentered and contented.

So, walk into your driveway for pete's sake and stop complaining!

Yaaa. Well, it doesn't work that way EVery time...

Would you like some cheese with your whine?

I feel like I'm losing myself. Not in the spiritual, absorption-into-God cool kinda way either.
I used to have a niche in an Irish session- don't anymore. Could no longer hold my own there.
I don't feel I fit in at church, in a university, with fiddlers or in a symphony, with my blood family (the family I came from, not Chris and the girls). It is confusing. Where do I fit? With whom?

I feel reduced to a function. I have thought a lot about this post from my friend Katherine, where she says, M is for Mom, not maid. I laughed out loud when I read that, saying, Oh, is it?

I suppose it is part of life, and its cycles. I had seasons where I could develop my interests and pursue them, and now I am mostly tasking. The predetermined to-do-for-others list every day more or less indicates that I am an adult now, as opposed to being someone to be pitied. I am a grown up and everyone has to do it, whether they are at a paying job all day, selling their life for a house and groceries, or at home with the kids wiping bums, your time is not your own.

I hear a ''Suck it up, Princess'' somewhere in my head, and I know where from.
You know who you are. ☺

Don't worry, I'll get over myself. Misery loves company, so here I am sucking you into my vacuum. Oh - sorry! I thought you were the curtain! my bad.

Anna's quote of the day: ''Wow, Mommy! You are so tall!!''
Also, she has renamed the 7 dwarfs: Lumpy, Dumpy, Frumpy, Bumpy, Zitsy, Ritzy and Ditsy.
Lovely, isn't it?

flushing diamonds with dung

Many posts are simmering. I will complain in this one about how youth is wasted on the young.

I have been SOO discouraged from encounters with teens lately. One was complaining about how school is useless and boring, how it is so ridiculous that they are learning about World War II. "It's over," she argued with annoyed indignance. "It's done, it's in the past. It isn't happening now, so why would we need to learn it? " *rolls eyes*

I was so blown away I was speechless to even argue with her. Why? Goodness sakes, where do I begin? There are so many reasons. The utter disrespect and cluelessness as to the pain and suffering of so many people, and the people who put themselves in the line of fire for someone else so she could be leading this comfortable affluent life. The self-absorbed world of these teens, while I will likely get comments saying, oh they all are that way, you were too, or whatever, is making me nuts. Ya, Girl, you're right. Who needs education. Pffh.

I talked to another guy who recently became active, we shall say, with his girlfriend, and was kinda proud of it. His cocky demeanor nearly made me vomit. HE was not spared the earful of my first individual. He was willingly oblivious to emotional and spiritual impact on either of them or any potential physical repercussions. Throwing away precious gifts of purity. A completely topsy turvy value system to my perspective. No no, this short term physical thing is TOTALLY worth potential parenthood, disease, emotional disability and spiritual corruption! Sure, why not! Sounds great. Who needs God, who needs health or wholeness.

Then there is the plethora of little people (who am I to talk, I know :P) I see on Facebook, people I know in our community here, who play with sin. Walk the tightrope, dabble in this or that, and then come and play church. I am not even sure if they know what they are doing. I feel certain they don't understand severity or implications of their actions. SO much is bound up inside me when I see this. I am successfully containing all manner of screams, running over and shaking them and falling on the floor with tears, begging them to heed wisdom. That's what I'm doing on the inside.

I've also had more MS activity lately, which very effectively drives the point home to me of the tremendous value of the strength and energy (and TIME) in youth. That it is cluelessly taken for granted and wasted on video games and flirting with sin is just bringing me to the edge of psychosis.

and for the sake of balance...

a bunch of hopeless complaining to counter the idyllic picture painted in the previous post.

I don't understand. I had an infection of candida albicans in my milk ducts when I was nursing Anna. I had it for 18 months while I nursed her. For those who don't know, it is painful. Rather painful. And it is a very pertinacious infection. Every treatment western medicine offered me gave me no solution. I tried them all, one a few different times. Well well well, surprise surprise, Mr. Candida never actually LEFT me, I just weaned her and didn't notice its presence any longer as there was nothing to exacerbate it. So starting to nurse Niamh, I was able to pick up right where I left off. Lovely.

BUT there was some hope. The Chinese doctor who was giving me acupuncture has an herbal remedy for it, she claims. I am a week into the 4 week treatment and seeing good results, feeling improvement, all excited, that there may finally be an end to this terrible stuff in sight. Oh but wait, another thing that also seems familiar though unwelcome... redness, burning... hmm.. is it a blocked duct or mastitis? Let's wait and see if flu symptoms appear. Hello! I get up today and am totally achey all over, spinny head and chills, very unhappy milk ducts, and a lot of pain. Pain that just about brings tears to my eyes whenever she begins to nurse. The only treatment for mastitis is antibiotics, which will spiral all the candida issue totally out of control once again. Yip-dee-flippin dee. And I went through all this with Anna once. How is it I get every problem in the book every time. Why. I was so dreadfully ill with the mastitis last time, it was all I could do to walk.

Argh. Not again.

And my hand is a fair bit worse now too, as should be expected getting more tired and fighting multiple infections. It is still discouraging though.

*sigh* that's it. I'm just so so annoyed. How wonderful to have an eventless run of nursing. It can be such a wonderful thing. For about 2 days where the herbs were helping, I was able to glimpse that. I am seeing the dark side now again, for sure, unfortunately.

And I just found out today that another friend of mine in Cape Breton, an old fella with whom I danced a set EVERY time I went to West Mabou, died this week. I can't believe it. He was so spry and lively. Weird.
Weird how the world will be different now without him. We'll miss you Neilly Angus D. West Mabou won't be the same.

Oh Beauty, where art Thou?

I find myself starving with an appetite for culture and beauty. My fantasies currently include: attending a symphony performance and letting all the exquisite sound wash over me;
sitting with friends in a cozy coffee shop;
playing in good sessions again;
strolling around Hawaii;
spending time in a gallery absorbing visual art;
eating some culinary masterpiece;
spending time with people that intrigue, enjoy and inspire me;
seeing and spending time in new parts of the world, esp. China and Japan. I'm so craving the East and its accoutrements of late.

I miss the excellence of fine art, the pristine execution and the enlivening of different sights/sounds/tastes... the exotic and engaging. I remember sitting halfway back in the violin section in the storm segment of Beethoven's 6th, sweating like crazy, cause Beethoven made you sweat, thinking your arms would fall off in their olympic expenditure of skill and energy. Hearing it all around you, the depth of the cellos and brass, the richness and volume, the sweetness of the violins.

I want to dance, crochet, paint, play... to engage in that inarticulable whirlwind of creativity that comes from the very Divine Spirit and lets you touch the eternal for a moment and suspend time in that internal place of wonder, rapture and awe.
How I miss it, how I need it.

now I really want some coffee. MMmm.. the deflated flavour content of decaf... how disenchanting... oh well. It's for a good cause.

Of course, my world is not devoid of beauty by any means. I captured this particular one this morning while she was still in the Land of Nod. So lovely is she, and full of such joy.