Tudor Robins's Blog, page 9

Holding on / Letting go

If my summer has a theme, it would be simplifying. Decluttering. Letting go.

My sons have both grown into men (sizewise – in the official sizing of the world, they are men) and they did this during the last school year.

So – there were drawers to be gone through. Pants, and shirts, and shoes, to be discarded. In some cases, pants I was keeping for the younger one, which he had grown right through being able to wear.

We also – in a first-time ever occurrence – emptied school bags during the first week of summer vacation. What a concept to find, and wash, the gym clothes used all year long as soon as they came home from school, instead of giving them an extra couple of (hot) months to fester, and finally washing them in August …

The kids have been on the island with their grandparents for the last week, and before you think my husband and I have been partying on the Hull strip every night, we took the time to completely empty and re-paint our bedroom, as well as refinishing our entire bedroom set – chest of drawers, bedframe, bedside tables. This was a HUGE job.

Because we made this effort, there are things that ARE NOT coming back into our bedroom. Some of those things are quite large. For example, there’s a chair we’re taking to the cottage.

There is also a bookshelf.

You know what that means.

Yes, there are books we need to purge.

This isn’t actually new. Over the last three years, we’ve removed three bookcases from our house. One a year. And, you know, even though the decisions can be hard in the moment, I don’t miss any of those books.

I’m getting not bad at just saying “yes” or “no.” Sometimes the way to do it is to do a comparison – like “if I keep this, then there isn’t room for that.” It pretty quickly becomes clear which one I want more.

I’m also starting to think of getting rid of books (and other stuff) as a trade off for space. I do love space. It feels good to have it. I love walking into an open, simple room. So, I think, “is keeping this book worth the space it takes up?”

Usually I can then easily get rid of said book.

There are some exceptions though. Always.

And here is one of mine:

A lifetime of Dick Francis books …

Dick Francis. These books are old, carefully collected, often-read, and they inspired me. I loved Dick Francis’s topics – obviously the horses but, also, all the other things he examined in-depth and taught his readers about. I read about photography, hot-air ballooning, kidnap rescues, the early days of computing, glass-blowing, and much, much more.

And I loved his writing style. Granted, a re-read today reveals some politically incorrect sentences (!) but these books are pure gold.

So, they’re not going – not exactly – they’re going to the basement.

And they’re leaving me the gift of wide-open space for thinking and writing.

Nice trade-off.

Bakery

One of the best things you will ever eat in this world …

If you’ve read my Island books, you’ve read about the Bakery.

Well, now you can check it out online – http://www.wolfeislandbakery.com/.

Everything, everything, everything is world-changingly delicious, and made right where you can see it.

Another reason to rent our cottage and make your own visit to the island!

Fresh Eyes

We spent the Canada Day long weekend on the island …. of course … because it’s a long weekend, and we like the island, and it was the annual Wolfe Island Classic 5K / 10K road race.

I’ve taken hundreds of pictures of things that happen on the island and, particularly, things that happen on certain weekends.

It’s not uncommon to scroll through our pictures and find a folder called “Rainbow” from 2014, and one called “Rainbow” from 2015, and then there was another rainbow this weekend and we all ran out to take pictures …

This year what’s different is that my older son has a camera (we gave it to him for his Grade 8 graduation – he had a great year and we’re super proud of him).

I loved looking at his pictures because they’re of the same things, but they’re different than the ones we’ve been filing away for years. He has fresh eyes.

Here are his photos, taken with his fresh eyes:

The view to the east from our cottage – looking across two bays.

 

Looking up the driveway to the solar panels by the road.

 

Wildflowers.

 

The original farmhouse on the property – where my parents live.

 

Island skies.

 

Carleton Island – it’s in the US – the border is somewhere in the water out there.

 

Me, heading out on my 10K (when my son takes pictures, I get pictures of me!)

 

And receiving my medal for finishing third in my age category.

 

I can’t wait to see what photos he takes during the rest of the summer!

What If They’re Wrong

Hint: I’m pretty sure they are …

It was late – I should have been climbing into bed. Instead I was doing that final round of evening chores that I’m always sure will take fifteen minutes, and always takes an hour.

I was listening to Q, and there was an interesting interview with Chuck Klosterman about his new book, But What If We’re Wrong? and it resonated with me, because I’ve wondered this too, and Father’s Day is coming up, and I thought the book might resonate with my dad (and also with my uber-inquisitive son, who is young enough that in his lifetime he’ll look back on things we believe now and go, really? Really?)

I made a mental note to look it up this morning, and I actually remembered to do so – which is a small miracle – and all the while I was thinking Tudor, you know what you’re going to find. This is a pointless exercise. You’re not going to end up buying this book. But a silly, optimistic part of me thought, Maybe they’re learning, and Maybe it’ll be OK, and Maybe this will be a nice, extra gift.

Until BOOM, I saw that no, I was very much right, and the print book is available in hardcover only, for $30.00, and the Kindle book is $15.99 and, I’m sorry Dad (because now he’s going to know that I decided not to spend this on him) it’s just too much money.

On principle, you understand. I will, of course, spend that much money – and far more – on gifts for the men in my life, but think about this gift. Think about this book.

It’s a neat idea. It’s quirky. It’s a bit mind-bending. I like it. But I’m taking some chances. I’m taking the chances that:

– Other people who I might buy it for also think it’s a neat, quirky idea – not a silly, pointless one.

– Maybe the discussion on the radio was the most interesting part of this idea – maybe what’s expanded upon in the book isn’t really much more interesting?

– Maybe the author’s writing style – through nobody’s fault – doesn’t resonate with my dad, or my son, or my husband, or whoever I gift it to.

Once you get past all those chances, the reality is, even if the recipient very much likes it, it’s not likely a forever book. It’s probably not a put-on-your-shelf-or-your-coffee-table-and-keep-for-the-rest-of-your-life book. To me, for my purposes, it’s not hardcover-worthy. A paperback would do just fine so it can be read, and passed on, with no guilt.

But the publishers don’t want to let me buy a paperback just yet. It’s strategy, you see. They don’t want me to spend, say, $15 on the book (which would have been $30, because I would have bought two copies) right now. They want me to spend $30 per copy. Which I’m not willing to do. And, to punish me for not following their desired buying pattern, they’ll make me wait for an unspecified number of months before I get a crack at the paperback.

Remember when I told you it was a miracle that I remembered to login this morning and look up this book after hearing about it last night? What do you think the odds are that on some random day in four months, I’ll look it up again to see if it’s out in paperback, and I’ll still be interested enough – when Father’s Day isn’t coming up – to buy it?

I can tell you now – slim to none. Probably none.

As to the Kindle edition. $15.99. That’s all I’ll say. $15.99 to have an electronic license to read something that you don’t really, truly, actually own. That you can’t lend to a friend, or pass on to a charity book sale. $15.99 for something that didn’t cost the publisher any printing, or warehousing, or distribution costs. $15.99. I don’t think so.

This I will say for sure – 100 per cent – if this book comes into our house in the future – in either digital or print form – it will be from the library.

And who’s fault is that?

Well, all I’m going to say is that, when it comes to pricing, maybe the traditional publishers are wrong.

(and, P.S., I’m sorry for the author, because I think he deserves to sell this book, but I just CAN’T for those prices …)

What if They’re Wrong?

Hint: I’m pretty sure they are …

It was late – I should have been climbing into bed. Instead I was doing that final round of evening chores that I’m always sure will take fifteen minutes, and always takes an hour.

I was listening to Q, and there was an interesting interview with Chuck Klosterman about his new book, But What If We’re Wrong? and it resonated with me, because I’ve wondered this too, and Father’s Day is coming up, and I thought the book might resonate with my dad (and also with my uber-inquisitive son, who is young enough that in his lifetime he’ll look back on things we believe now and go, really? Really?)

I was hoping I’d be wrong about the pricing of this book.

I made a mental note to look it up this morning, and I actually remembered to do so – which is a small miracle – and all the while I was thinking Tudor, you know what you’re going to find. This is a pointless exercise. You’re not going to end up buying this book. But a silly, optimistic part of me thought, Maybe they’re learning, and Maybe it’ll be OK, and Maybe this will be a nice, extra gift.

Until BOOM, I saw that no, I was very much right, and the print book is available in hardcover only, for $30.00, and the Kindle book is $15.99 and, I’m sorry Dad (because now he’s going to know that I decided not to spend this on him) it’s just too much money.

On principle, you understand. I will, of course, spend that much money – and far more – on gifts for the men in my life, but think about this gift. Think about this book.

It’s a neat idea. It’s quirky. It’s a bit mind-bending. I like it. But I’m taking some chances. I’m taking the chances that:

– Other people who I might buy it for also think it’s a neat, quirky idea – not a silly, pointless one.

– Maybe the discussion on the radio was the most interesting part of this idea – maybe what’s expanded upon in the book isn’t really much more interesting?

– Maybe the author’s writing style – through nobody’s fault – doesn’t resonate with my dad, or my son, or my husband, or whoever I gift it to.

Once you get past all those chances, the reality is, even if the recipient very much likes it, it’s not likely a forever book. It’s probably not a put-on-your-shelf-or-your-coffee-table-and-keep-for-the-rest-of-your-life book. To me, for my purposes, it’s not hardcover-worthy. A paperback would do just fine so it can be read, and passed on, with no guilt.

But the publishers don’t want to let me buy a paperback just yet. It’s strategy, you see. They don’t want me to spend, say, $15 on the book (which would have been $30, because I would have bought two copies) right now. They want me to spend $30 per copy. Which I’m not willing to do. And, to punish me for not following their desired buying pattern, they’ll make me wait for an unspecified number of months before I get a crack at the paperback.

Remember when I told you it was a miracle that I remembered to login this morning and look up this book after hearing about it last night? What do you think the odds are that on some random day in four months, I’ll look it up again to see if it’s out in paperback, and I’ll still be interested enough – when Father’s Day isn’t coming up – to buy it?

I can tell you now – slim to none. Probably none.

As to the Kindle edition. $15.99. That’s all I’ll say. $15.99 to have an electronic license to read something that you don’t really, truly, actually own. That you can’t lend to a friend, or pass on to a charity book sale. $15.99 for something that didn’t cost the publisher any printing, or warehousing, or distribution costs. $15.99. I don’t think so.

This I will say for sure – 100 per cent – if this book comes into our house in the future – in either digital or print form – it will be from the library.

And who’s fault is that?

Well, all I’m going to say is that, when it comes to pricing, maybe the traditional publishers are wrong.

(and, P.S., I’m sorry for the author, because I think he deserves to sell this book, but I just CAN’T for those prices …)

Proud Mama

My younger son is on his school’s robotics team.

Which, yes, makes me proud.

However, this post is about more than that.

The team is entered in a robotics competition taking place at the end of May. They automatically get a bonus point added to their score if they have a logo.

So my son created one.

From scratch.

Just like that.

I love his confidence (and I like the logo – maybe he’ll do my book covers one day …)

And the self-promotion – that’s great too!

Oh and, yes, the team is named “The Smack of Jellyfish.” I really don’t have anything to say about that.

 

 

Me and My Breyers

If you’re a horsey person – especially if you were a horsey young girl – you’ll know exactly what the title of the post means.

For the rest of you, Breyers are much-coveted, much-loved model horses. From their website, this explains the basics:

Breyer® models begin as beautiful horse sculptures created by leading equine artists that are then cast into a copper and steel mold. Each model is created one at a time from the original mold, which is injected with a special resin selected by Breyer for its ability to capture the depth of detail, delicate feel and richness of color in our models. Once the model is molded, Breyer’s artisans take over, and the handwork begins. Each individual Breyer® model is prepped and finished by hand and then turned over to the painting department for hand painting (with airbrushes) and detailing (with paint brushes). In all, some 20 artisans work on each individual model horse, creating an exquisite hand-made model horse that is as individual as the horse that inspired it.

If you visit their website, you’ll see Breyer has become a model-making machine – they have multiple lines of models, they do special runs, etc. They’re also available everywhere – well, in tack shops everywhere and, of course, thanks to the internet, online.

When I was a kid (this is how kids today know somebody is old – when they start a sentence with “when I was a kid”) – anyway, back then, Breyers were hardly available in Canada. They certainly weren’t sold anywhere in Ottawa, and there was no internet.

They used to be about $20 each and I would save, and save, and save, so that when we were someplace that sold Breyers I could buy two or three. They came in boxes, with the picture of the horse on the front – it was magic.

The one place the majority of my Breyers came from was Washington DC. My great-aunt lived there. She was widowed, and she was my grand-mother’s older sister, so she was really a grand-motherly age with no kids of her own, and she was the best kind of great-aunt to have.

Because she was brave, or eccentric, or had a short memory, she would have my brother and I for visits – I can remember being about seven, and being put on a plane in Ottawa with my little brother, to be met in DC by my aunt and taken to her house for two weeks.

The things I remember about Washington (actually a suburb called Kensington) are the following:

– It was hot. Sweltering, humid, unbearable heat that made Ottawa (a very hot, humid place in the summer) feel almost cool.

– Aunt Pam had a Chihuahua named Peanut, and marmalade cat who was bigger than the Chihuahua.

– She had blue plates – collector plates – with the date on them, up all around her kitchen. I own those plates now, and they’re in a box in my basement, because I don’t have anywhere as cool as Aunt Pam’s kitchen to hang them up in.

– My aunt drove us to Chincoteague one year to watch the pony swim (yup – she was cool!)

– She let us do things my parents would never let us do –  like when the stray golden retriever showed up – not only were we allowed to keep him for days (while, I suppose various people looked for his owners) but I was allowed to bring him under the covers into my bed to sleep with me.

There were other things, but the main thing I remember is the trip to the toy store. There was a toy store near my aunt’s house that sold Breyers. Lots and lots of Breyers. The minute we landed, I pretty much wanted to go to that toy store immediately. And, coincidentally, my aunt would always give me spending money – just enough to buy a Breyer. So, I’d have the money I saved, and brought with me, and my aunt’s money, and she was always really good about taking us almost right away, so my vacation would start off with new Breyer horses.

So exciting!

In this manner – Washington DC, and other trips – I managed to collect well over 50 Breyer horses. I had them all over my room. My dad built me stables to hold them. I loved them.

They were, and are, beautiful, but now they’re in boxes in my basement and what do you do with a collection like that? A collection that was never about the money, but always about the excitement and joy of collecting?

It’s something I’ve been wondering about for a while.

Are some of those Breyers worth a lot of money today? Probably. Then again, most are probably worth the same $20 I paid for them.

Do I have the inclination to research which are rare and valuable, and which aren’t, and put them up for sale on eBay, and ship them separately to collectors all over the place? No.

I just want them to be out in the light of day, and enjoyed.

So, this year I’m finally doing something about it. I contacted Veronica Grajewski of Partridge Acres which, really has one of the loveliest pony-and-young-rider programs I know of, and asked her about setting up a booth where I could sell books and give away a Breyer with each sale.

Veronica, as she always is, was very positive and went a step further – would I be interested in sponsoring a division in their Stepping Stone Series of shows? I could provide a Breyer model and a book for the Champion and Reserve Champion in the Pre Children’s division in each Stepping Stone show and, with the remaining models, I could still set up a “Breyers and Books” booth at one of the shows.

So, that’s what I’m doing. I dropped off two very beautiful Breyer models at Partridge Acres last night, ready to go to new homes after the first show on Saturday.

I’m hoping by the end of the summer all my Breyers will have new homes where they’re appreciated. That, to me, will make this a successful endeavour!

Did any of you collect Breyer models? Do you have any stories about them?

Miss Molly

Every pet is special, but some are stand-out special and our Molly was one of them.

Just the other day my younger son said, “Imagine if Molly was a carnivore.” Oh my goodness. I quake to think.

Molly had more personality than most dogs and cats. She had more personality than many dogs and cats combined.

Molly was vocal, forceful, animated, and interactive. “Fierce” and “voracious” were good words for Molly.

Which was why it was quite a shock when Molly started shrinking away.

Just her body, mind you. Not her spirit. She never stopped asking for food, never stopped attacking it, never stopped pushing her best friend, Kiwi, out of the way to get more celery, or lettuce, or kale.

But she kept losing weight until she was just skin and bones and I had no idea where her energy was coming from to run and see me when I came down in the morning, and to wheek for more vegetables every time I opened the fridge.

It’s been a really hard week trying to decide what to do with Miss Molly. She acted fine but looked terrible. We wanted her to live every second of her full-on life, but we didn’t want her to ever suffer.

And, then, there was the problem of missing her. And knowing Kiwi would miss her. How do you give up on a little thing that lives in the centre of your house and talks at you all day and eats all your leftover vegetables?

It was really hard, but this morning I took her to the vet – with Kiwi, of course – and said good-bye to her and now our house is so, so quiet.

Molly taught me many things. She taught me to enjoy every bite of my fruits and vegetables. She taught me you can disagree with the people (guinea pigs) you live with, and still love them fiercely. She taught me how far spirit and energy go.

All my memories of Molly are good. I don’t think she suffered. Her last minutes of life were spent jammed tight next to Kiwi (her faithful companion for all her vet visits), eating lettuce.

We’re going to have some sad days around here, but one thing I can guarantee is we will never forget Molly.

That would be completely impossible.

Mapmaker, Mapmaker …

As I’ve been working on my new series, I’ve found myself using Google maps quite a bit to look at the actual places I have in mind, as well as studying shorelines, river courses, etc. to put together a topography that matches what’s in my head.

I have a number of saved maps, and some rough sketches of my own, and I know exactly how this place looks.

I figure, however, it might be useful for my readers to also have a map to refer to, since I can give you the book, but I can’t give you the inside of my head (you’re probably better off for not having it!).

The answer is to have a map drawn up to show the setting of the series.

The answer is NOT for me to draw it.

Fortunately, I know a talented individual I’m pretty sure I can convince to make a map for me. Here’s a sample of his work:

He is my son (!) and he whipped off this map of Canada in his free time last evening.

I kind of love it.

I have no idea where he got his artistic talent, but I’m glad he has it.

If you like the above, you can look forward to something in the same sort of style to show you all the places in my new series.

But if that new series is going to exist, I’d better get back to writing, so bye for now!

When you assume …

You know how that saying goes, right? When you assume, you make an ass out of “u” and me.

It’s so often true.

Anybody else in Ottawa hear about this story? Of the summer camps labelled for boys and girls with rather stereotypical names? Here’s a screenshot of the CBC story, to give you the idea:

My kids wouldn’t be going to those camps. To be fair, I have my own personal beliefs about day camps, and their place and value, so my kids hardly go to any day camps at all and, when they do, we select very, very carefully.

However, more than that – and this is probably the word geek / snob in me – there’s just something way too cutesy about the names and descriptions of these camps. I wouldn’t put my kids in them for the same reason I never let them wear t-shirts when they were little that said “It wasn’t me!” or “I’m with stupid.” I don’t like the associations and, yes, assumptions, that go along with certain wording.

Words matter. They do. Especially to me.

And, yes, there are bigger assumptions at play here. That boys like man caves, and should be grease monkeys. That girls want to be fit chicks and have girls’ nights out. That boys and girls should be separated. And more.

I know Dovercourt, and I believe they never meant to do anything wrong here. But, it seems to me, they assumed.

I quite agree with the woman who wrote a blog post about this, that the activity should drive the enrolment. So – Grease Monkeys – who wants to be a grease monkey? Boy or girl, step right up.

In fact, I was listening to another story on CBC last night about a welding camp for at-risk youth. One of the participants who was interviewed was a girl who said she’s always had an interest in women’s rights and activism, and learning to weld makes her feel even stronger because it’s not something many women in the world would have an opportunity to do.

Hear, hear.

You know I don’t go looking for slights. To be honest, I don’t often find slights. But this isn’t the first time a City of Ottawa recreational program has bothered me. One thing I’ve often found, over the years, is there are a plethora of “Mom and Me” classes … for moms and daughters. Only.

So, where does that leave me? A mom with two sons. What if I want to learn to cook with my son? Or play basketball with him? We’re not invited.

I don’t like it.

Interestingly enough, an organization we’ve had the exact opposite experience with is Scouts Canada. Our boys have usually been in Beavers, Cubs, and Scouts with at least one girl, and many of their amazing leaders have been women. Their current (female) Scout leader has changed their lives for the better. As a mother, I’ve been welcome to accompany my sons on trips, including camping trips.

If Scouts – which let’s face it, is an organization pretty steeped in tradition – can do it, why can’t everybody?

My experience with Scouts Canada is that the only assuming they do is that girls / women will be full participants at all times.

And that’s an assumption I can live with.