Next Course Please

As a writer of historic fiction, I understood how much we can learn, or at least infer, from things of the past. Unusual antique items now redundant can leave us puzzled. Antiques can also be admired for the detailed work in their construction.

Homes built a hundred years ago and more also tell stories. Woodwork plays a larger role in older homes; wider and, generally, darker in colour. I believe intricate moldings around a home told visitors that the homeowners were people of means.

Beyond the visible impact of trim and decor, homes can actually help us to understand the lifestyle of it's residents.

This became clear to me when I recently had an opportunity to tour a heritage home that is under renovation. The homeowners are holding fast to the many unique features of the original structure, making their work even more challenging. Since I share their appreciation for the old, I admire their determination. 

We can learn much about the past from the old houses around us. One feature in this home was something I had never seen before. Under the dining table, a button had been installed into the original floor. The purpose of this button was to summon staff from the kitchen to clear the table or bring the next course. 

Since the kitchen is beside the dining room, within voice range, this feature speaks to a level of social class unimaginable to us in 2025. As the ad points out “nothing has ever been invented that meets the wants of the people as they (the buttons) do.”

Pleasant Surprises

I continue to be surprised by what I learn and uncover through this new career. 

Case in point. I have been interviewing various service providers to learn about their businesses, themselves and what they may bring to my clients. Last week, I called a woman with a professional organizing / decluttering business. She shared her business model and enthusiasm for her work with me for some time and I asked specific questions based on clients I have in mind. It was a useful hour of learning for me.

Having noted that her name was also my maiden name, at the end of the call, I asked if we could determine if there is any connection between her family and mine. Imagine how surprised I was when we quickly discovered she is married to the son of my cousin! Not just related, but closely related.

By that point, her husband had joined our discussion and we threw family memories back and forth.

The outcome of this amazing coincidence is that I have a new (to me) service to recommend to clients and we will be having a family reunion in the spring for me to reconnect with long lost family.

Connections

Real estate is offering so much more to me than simply a new career. As each week passes, I recognize how this activity fills my personal checklist. You know the one I mean - the checklist in my head that lets me know my life is on or off track by how I'm spending time. 

After a lifetime in the business world, my checklist requires time for daily administrative activities (even if that just means meal planning) but everyone's choices for spending time is unique and varied. Some value time spent creatively. Others, productively. To some, time spent learning or pursuing new interests is a must. Time to follow a healthy lifestyle. Down time. Social time. It all adds up to the inevitable evaluation: 'has my life been on track this week or do I need a tune-up with priorities?' 

The value that comes with connecting with old friends and acquaintances has moved 'social time' higher on my weekly checklist. Daily life often impeded staying in touch as much as I would like but real estate has given me the impetus to reconnect. In doing so, I recognize a desire for true connection with others, both within myself and from others.

Humans are social creatures and need connection with others. I'm not talking the social media type of connection here. I mean the face to face, time spent together listening to each other type of connection. FaceTime, WhatsApp, Zoom, etc. give us a sense of connection that I was grateful for during COVID but the ability to put my hand on someone else's (or vice versa) in a moment of understanding is only available when we are physically together. This is, increasingly, the type of connection I am filling my weeks with, replacing time spent on-line with time in a room together or walking together. 

At the core, real estate is a business of connecting others; those who are in need of something with those who no longer want or need something. 

So, pursuing real estate has given me license to enjoy filling my days connecting and reconnecting with people and, sometimes, helping them with their housing needs.

Social time - check! Productive time - check! Administrative time - check! Healthy lifestyle - check!

Neuroplasticity

Like many of my friends, as the years passed, I frequently thought about my increasing scatter-brained mind, blaming it on my advanced age.

This journey into real estate has taken me on a continuous learning path. I will admit to reservations early on. Would this 'older' brain be capable? I always love to learn but, let's face it, I hadn't taken any formal education in years.

Imagine my surprise as the weeks/months passed and my brain proved more than able to keep up.

As this was flying in the face of what I had previously accepted about my aging brain (and I am basically a curious soul), I looked into this.

Turns out, there’s a scientific explanation … neuroplasticity. The Cleveland Clinic website explains this as "our brain’s ability to absorb information and evolve to manage new challenges. It’s a natural gift that allows us to develop as a person and take on the ever-changing tasks of daily life." While this may slow down somewhat with age, it is definitely still present and able to be called on as we learn. 

However, retirement lends itself to a routineness in lifestyle. Turns out, it is this very routineness that may be a detriment to our brain health.

There are many ways to develop the neuroplasticity in our brains. Simple things like meditation, new experiences, and social interaction help keep the brain functioning well.

If your New Year’s resolution included taking a course, joining a class or trying a new hobby, go for it. I think you'll be surprised how much your brain will stretch to whatever you ask of it.

Dad Wisdom

Do what you say you're going to do.
If you're going to do something, do it right.

My granddaughter's drawing of these nuggets of wisdom from my father is above. Loved passing these on to our next generation but very aware I still work to practice them daily myself.

It is my Dad's voice I hear whenever I find myself slipping into a 'that'll do' attitude, instead of doing a job right.

I remember one memorable garden spring planting. Dad sat in his wheelchair guiding my novice efforts at planting vegetables. As I whined about how difficult it is to isolate tiny carrot seeds into each spot, rather than dropping many (only to have to cull as they grow), Dad spoke up: "You only do the job once a year. Do it right." His voice remained in my head each year after he was gone as I planted my seeds.

I've had an overwhelming urge to write a book about my grandmother's life, capturing the many things she dealt with in daily life. Born in 1899, she cooked on a wood stove her entire life. Every house (even into the 1970s) had an outhouse. She witnessed the world change from horse and buggy to cars, then planes and, finally, rockets. Communication went from neighbours dropping in to radio and then tv.

I believe our generation is the last to bear witness to life pre-technology and I want to explain all of it to my grandchildren, even knowing how awe-struck they will be by much of it. Part of that story will be the inherent wisdom each generation possessed even without the benefit of Google.

The book may never get written but the conversations I have with my grandchildren allow me to share the stories and wisdom of generations before.

A New World of Colour

I am ‘that’ person who is not afraid of bold colour. This photo of my dining room wall says it all. I’m willing to take chances when I love the colour even if my choices aren’t for everyone (one friend, on seeing this wall, said “Well, I don’t hate it”).  

My boldness with colour is a fairly new development. For years, I believed I had no knack for picking colours. How many times I sought a soft French lemon only to end up with a disappointing shade of argumentative yellow (yes, colours do affect us).

Well, it turned out I was just looking at the wrong colours.

I was introduced to bold colour while enjoying a meal at an old inn in Grafton Ontario. One of the dining room walls was an impactful shade of pumpkin. Just one wall – impact often means less is more. 

I didn’t understand the reason for the impact of this particular wall until later. Red/orange colours stir appetite and passion. I remember leaving the Inn feeling happy, full and energized, resolved to never limit myself in colour again. Now, if I love a colour, I look for the boldest version of it in the paint chips. I have yet to regret a choice.

For several years, it was rare to see rooms that ventured far from varying shades of gray but, as I view houses, I’m seeing far more colour now. The paint companies are on board with this new trend with the broad range of colour choices for 2025 as the link below shows.

https://www.styleathome.com/decorating-design/colour/article/all-the-2025-colours-of-the-year-we-know-so-far

If it’s time for a new look in one of your rooms, let your creativity flow. Go for the colour chips that make your heart sing.

Small Print Caveat:

Of course, as a Realtor® , I must advise that neutral colours sell. (...sigh)

 

We All Look The Same

Me laughing as I try, unsuccessfully, to remain upright on the ice (tricky - very tricky). After several attempts, my daughter gave me her arm and, together, we skated joyfully around the arena. Joyful for me because I hadn't been on skates in almost twenty years. I'm determined to give it a go again this year because I do love to skate.

I feel that I laugh at myself much more since I acquired white hair. It's definitely easier not to take oneself seriously at this age. Life in general seems more humorous.

My white hair brought a funny situation recently.

Now that I'm back at work, I needed a better computer than my old laptop. A clever young man at Staples explained the choices for monitor, keyboard, etc. When I asked about the features I should look for, he invariably went to how each worked for gaming, followed by a shy ‘but you’re not looking for that’ sort of comment. 

We managed to settle on what would work for business purposes and I made my way to the checkout with what I could carry. He went back to the warehouse to get the monitor I’d chosen and, as he returned to the counter, he went to another white-haired woman at the other end. I did a “yoo-hoo, over here” sort of thing and tried to cover the embarrassment he clearly felt by saying “It’s okay. We all look the same.”

After he helped me to my car with my purchases, I drove away, grinning all the way back to the office.

A Good Book is the Answer to Life

 "I can feel infinitely alive curled up on the sofa reading a good book."

                                                                                                      Benedict Cumberbatch

I know exactly what he means. My reading journey began as a young child and stayed with me as life evolved through adulthood. My happy places were always libraries and book stores, bringing instant calm to my mind as I crossed the threshold.

Books have given me "oh, me too!" moments. They have challenged my acquired beliefs and understanding. The best stories have catapulted me from the reality around me (and sometimes kept me awake long into the night). My life was happily filled with books.

Until I enrolled in university at an advanced age. Reading for pure pleasure was a necessary sacrifice to create time for the textbooks and research needed for each course. Fascinating stuff but a prescribed reading list doesn't hold the same delight as finding a new novel on the shelf by a favourite author.

Surprisingly, I didn't return to reading for pleasure after graduation. Looking back, I'm not sure how I filled my spare time but there was a definite gap in my reading consumption for a few years.

I thank COVID for bringing it back into my life. The library initiated on-line ordering and pick up (in paper bags, at the door - seems surreal now) and my journey back began. A steady stream of books filled my days which re-ignited my love for a good story. 

I am happy to say the love continues, although, with everything else going on in life right now, it does take me considerably longer to finish a book.

So, as the snow falls, light a fire (or at least some candles) and curl up with that good book waiting for you.

Clearing out our Stuff

Photo courtesy of HGTV - Home Staging Essentials

I have had my house staged for two moves. Staging in my case meant clearing out and moving things around, or adding plants to get the most impact.

Immediately after, I remember thinking “the house looks and feels so empty”. After a few days, however, of living in the cleared rooms, I realized I was breathing easier (figuratively speaking). I felt a new sense of calm that had been missing while I was still surrounded by my ‘stuff’.

This made me curious about why I had accumulated so much, filling my rooms with things not really needed and yet loved. Moving them out made me question this need for ‘more’.

The overriding take-away from this experience was to re-value my own space and how I fill it. If I feel less than calm, it’s time to remove or, at the very least, move things around. I owe it to myself to create an atmosphere that nurtures my inner peace.

Of course, if you are truly staging for an upcoming move, there are resources out there to help you. I found the attached HGTV article had some useful tips.

https://www.hgtv.com/lifestyle/real-estate/15-secrets-of-home-staging-pictures

I will no longer wait until my house is going on the market to create a calming environment.

The Courage to Go Forth

"I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and  fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse."                                               Charlotte Bronte, from Jane Eyre

Over the initial weeks in real estate, I will admit to moments of uncertainty. My new direction sometimes felt a step too far. But this feeling was not new to me. I had experienced it twice before in my life.

The first was in 2006. Everything in life was leading me in the direction of a long-held dream - to open a retail shop. And yet, as I took the many steps required to get the business up and running, I frequently found myself struggling with one foot which tended to drag back to my comfortable, known world.

Until the day that a random sign in a shop explained why I was dragging.

The sign said “What would you do if you had no fear?”

It was fear that held me back. With that new understanding, I found the courage to push forward and complete the journey, creating a beautiful store that I will forever be proud of.

The fear resurfaced a number of years later as I completed the book I had been working on for eight years. The decision to publish (vs just sharing with my family and friends) was a weighty one. Publishing put 'me' out there, not just the woman I had written about.

But I had gone too far with the book to hold back. I pushed the fear aside and sent it to print. This book has taken me on journeys I could never have imagined and introduced me to people I would not have otherwise met.

Six years later, I am still signing books for people who have just discovered the story. My imagination could never have equaled the reality that has come about by publishing.

The human condition is to want what is safe. The unknown can be a frightening place but it is in unearthing the unknown that we discover our strengths; our gifts; our abilities. My experience in creating and running my store and publishing a book instilled the courage in me to take on real estate.

What would you do if you had no fear?

You Can't Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

Society would have us believe that, upon reaching a certain age, we will think and act as seniors; happy in retirement with the tricks we know. Surprisingly, after a few years of doing just that, I found I wanted more out of my career life than I had attained. Plainly put ... I wasn't finished.

So, a new life goal was hatched; one that will make use of my life's experiences, education and knowledge: Real Estate.

Over the past weeks, I’ve felt like a racehorse at the starting gate, ready to take off. After eight months of study, exams and real estate transaction simulation exercises, I was ready.

But, turns out, study was just the beginning. First, Century 21 sent in my application for registration as a Realtor®. While we waited for this, there were organizations to join, insurance to get, software to learn and branding to establish.

Finally, the day arrived with news that I am a registered Realtor®. I’m thrilled and more than ready for the joys and challenges of this new career. I will give it my all.

I feel such excitement for the months ahead. The unknown beckons me.

Many of you know I also like to write. I’ll share highlights of my journey here, along with intriguing things I’m learning (because we’re never too old to learn) and whatever else I think might be of interest.

Time Well-lived

So much time has passed but it has been, for the most part, time well-lived.

For two months, I lived with my daughter and grand-girls, acting as extra hands while my son-in-law was away on business. My extra hands, I think, helped keep the wheels on the bus of a busy household which includes a growing home-based business my daughter created and runs.

This was my first lengthy time spent with grandchildren - we have always lived far away and, at most, get two weeks at a time with any of them. During this time, days were full from early morning school prep, helping with housework, cooking and even with the business when extra hands were needed. 

Waiting at the bottom of their long, winding driveway for the school bus, both early morning and end of day, gave structure to each day. We filled the morning wait time with silly talk and observations of nature around us. Some days, a little of life's wisdom crept into our conversations. 

Their excitement for the day ahead was occasionally conflicted with a little regret to be leaving (the littlest would sometimes double back for a second hug). I remained in the driveway as the bus pulled away, waving back to each girl (they sat in different rows). My heart was full as I returned back to the house for whatever the day ahead had in store for me. 

These moments made me feel special for the rarity of this time with them. I believed our experience to be unique because I was the visiting grandmother who was building memories.

One morning my daughter had appointments immediately after bus pick up so she took the girls down in her car. As she pulled out of the driveway after the bus left, she realized she would be following the bus which meant she had to stop each time the bus stopped for more kids. 

As she stopped, she watched the same heart-warming start to the day experienced with our own girls. Parents hugged, kissed and waved to their precious little ones as they boarded.

Rather than feeling exasperated as she might knowing the bus would likely make her late for her appointment, her heart filled with each successive scene playing out.

The feeling remained with her throughout the day and, as she told me about it later, I was reminded of many of my morning drives to work. 

So often, cars would weave in and around my car and others in a desperate attempt to gain speed; not to be late. I remember thinking, "just get up earlier and you might enjoy the peace of the morning before the start to your day".

How often was I guilty of judging the (usually) senior driver puddling along the highway? As a senior myself now I think I understand that age is not the reason for their pace. It's the knowledge that rushing through life robs us of much. We all reach our destinations whether we speed or take our time. 

As you pass a slower driver on the road, respect their choice to take their time. Consider giving them a friendly wave instead of whatever other gesture you had in mind.

Knotty Problems

With the gardens (mostly) put to bed for their long winter sleep, my time turns to indoor pursuits. The months ahead are for knitting, embroidery, jigsaw puzzle solving, cooking, writing, reorganizing and reading.

As I returned something to my jewelry box this morning, the need to reorganize hit me squarely and I realized I had time to deal with it. 

I'm not a big jewelry wearer so I have no method when storing away the pieces others have cared enough to buy for me. I tend to put things in randomly and carelessly, eventually creating a writhing mess of chains interlocked with earrings and other flotsam. Looking at the jumble this morning, I realized I have neglected to give each piece the respect it deserved. 

Undoing the mess took longer than I would have expected as memories of occasions, trips and the thoughtfulness of my family and friends rolled over me. Long-forgotten treasures were revealed. Sorting through the jumbles uncovered matches to earrings long thought lost, a W.W.II pin of my father's and the necklace from Expo '67 that I was thrilled to buy with my own money.

I often wear a necklace, gifted to me by my father-in-law after my husband's mother had passed. Each time I do, I do so deliberately in an effort to channel her. For the brief few years I had her in my life, she stood as a guiding light and, forty years later, I still miss her.

I'm sure by now you can picture the clearing up of the jewelry box. This was one of those tasks that took me far beyond the original purpose, leading to daydreaming and thoughts of my life.

It was while attempting to untangle a fine silver chain that a metaphor for times in my life occurred to me.

The chain was defying my usual love for untangling. I was treating it with delicacy for fear of breaking it but had no success at clearing the knot. As minutes ticked on, my mind eventually wandered and I found myself thinking of completely unrelated things while I continued to play with the chain as one might try to solve a Rubix cube unconsciously.

Surprisingly, as my attention returned to the chain, I realized my inattention to the task at hand had loosened the chain considerably. Enter the metaphor.

How often in life have I desperately sought solutions to issues by giving my total concentration and time to them? Just as often as issues were resolved once I walked away from them, put aside my focus and went on with life.

Whether a knotty chain or a knotty problem, allowing our attention to shift elsewhere often leads us to the answer.

Life Gets in the Way

An old friend of mine was fond of saying "life gets in the way" when discussing how relationship problems arise. Turns out life can get in the way of other things, too.

Since my last post in June, my household has experienced much, from great to good to bad and sad. All of it, 'life'. What I have just realized, with all of it behind us now and the routine back that we know so well, is that 'life' leaves little time for reflection, where ideas take shape.

My ideas for writing arrive in many ways. Some are fully formed and require just moments to get them down. Most of these blog posts are the results of such thinking.

Others develop as I take long walks or putter in the garden. These pictures represent my current efforts; converting a previously weed-filled area of grass to planting space. Doing so required layering compost over the grass (lazy way to kill grass). 

The irony wasn't lost on me that I spend every fall clearing the leaves away only to empty my leaf bin of the same (now composted) leaves to lay over that same area. 

Back to writing. 

With a return to routine and fall approaching, my mind is also returning to the next book that I've been working on for a year or two. This writing never arrives fully formed but, rather, grows from a thread. This thread gets developed as I begin to own the characters and build their personalities and lives.

Because I grew up with a mother who quilted, my mind pictures creating a patchwork quilt from fabric scraps when I think of writing. Take a main fabric, or two, that you want to play starring roles. This fabric represents the main character(s). Pull in other scraps around it to build the body of the quilt (the plot). Scraps might coordinate with the main fabric, pulling on the best features of the main resulting in a pleasant read. But every good story must have fabric scraps that clash horribly with the main fabric, creating conflict, chaos, even tragedy to the overall picture.

Which brings me back to 'life': great, good, bad and sad. The elements of all good stories and fulfilling lives.

Snidely Whiplash

For the past weeks, I've been held captive in our house.

Extreme heat and gypsy moth caterpillars (I'm talking millions of the little beggars) have made it extremely unpleasant to be outside, never mind digging in the dirt. Gardening has become simply the ongoing plucking of caterpillars off my shrubs.

Hence, my preference for staying indoors. The time spent in the sunroom has turned my perspective to just what is visible from that room but what a world of life goes on out there.

Is it my imagination or are the squirrels healthier this year? Whatever has brought on this year of plenty makes their coats lustrous and created a visible playfulness amongst them. They aren't skittish this year, remaining above me on tree trunks or fences as I water, rather than running away. As I type, one is sitting on the fence looking me square in the eyes, as though he (she) would like to have a word with me.

In this heat, the bird bath plays a key role. All creatures visit throughout the day either stopping for a quick drink or standing right in for an all-out bath experience. I particularly like watching the robins bathing routine. They are thorough in their ablutions with feathers flapping in an orderly fashion until they deem themselves clean.

One day, as I watched, a starling appeared, bullying the robin from the bath. The starlings have also sent our finches elsewhere by their bullying behaviour at the feeders. 

Watching that black, shiny bird with its beady little eyes use whatever power it exerts (it is no larger than a robin) to send the robin off reminded me of a character from my childhood. The starling turned into Snidely Whiplash, pulling on his mustache below his beady eyes after kidnapping beautiful Nell for no other reason than to be evil.

Better watch out starlings. Dudley is on his way.

It's been a while.

I have to thank the garden for hours of joyous work throughout the past weeks. Everything else has been neglected in my desire to get my hands in the dirt each morning. My exercise routine has become spotty. Walks have all but disappeared from daily life. Housework? What's that? Meals are planned for their easy preparation. The gardens trump all. 

So, today, with the last of my seedlings now in the ground and the temperature cool, I was pretty pleased with myself with the decision to head down for my waterfront walk. As physical as my gardening has been, my muscles weren't overly happy to walk this distance.

When I arrived at the third pier, I decided to sit on the old iron post that ships would once have tied their lines to (I preferred to think of this as my reflection time instead of a rest). I assume I have the seagulls to thank for the mess on the top of the post but saw enough clear space for my toosh and settled down for my ruminations.

A random wipe of my rear as I rose again brought a rude awakening. I unwittingly sat on some of the poop.

My first thought was curiosity: 'Does sitting on it bring as much luck as we are said to receive when it lands on us directly from the sky?'

My next thought was 'Oh, no. Apparently, the old toosh takes up more space than it once did!' This walk had better be the first of many more.

I soon forgot my widening rear though as, returning along the path, I frightened a mother duck. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed more than saw as she swept a smaller duck off the path back to the water. I watched as Mother led the way, swimming in and around a myriad of stones, steering a surprising seven babies through this circuitous route out to safety in the water. 

It was a delightful scene. Like all toddlers, they dipsy-doodled after Mother, around these same stones, butting into each other, eventually making it out to clear water. As I watched, the last baby, clearly impatient and fearless, took a different approach. It jumped onto a stone and twaddled atop each one until it reached the last  stone where it jumped into the water and joined the family.

What would a family be without a little rebellion?

Mothers

"Her mama's no more than a little bitty story in her life now, something from way, way back when, and that's the way my mama is for me. You can tell the story in five minutes flat. You can blink and miss it.

But you can't make it go away. Your mama's inside you. You can feel her moving and breathing and sometimes you can hear her talking to you, saying the same things over and over, like watch out now, be careful, be good, now don't get yourself hurt."

Cora-Mae (p. 257)

The Stone Diaries

Carol Shields

I've just finished re-reading this book. My children gave the book to me as a Mother's Day gift in 1993 and reading it began my pleasurable journey into this Canadian author's work. 

Mother's Day again this Sunday. While I long ago thankfully ceded whatever control I might once have thought I had in my children's' lives, I know I continue to be more than just a cautionary voice in their heads. The years, though, have afforded me the luxury of sitting back; watching and admiring each of them as they apply their own personalities to parenting.

My own mother lives across the country, inaccessible to me (during COVID) but, thankfully, close to my sisters. My conversations with her often make me feel like I'm grabbing for fireflies but the memories of her voice in my ear throughout my life are as strong as ever. 

On this Mother's Day, I acknowledge all of the matriarchs in my life. Whatever my age, I have much to learn from their wisdom. 

Life Changes

It's difficult to deny the many small ways our lives have changed over the past year. Some of these will remain with us forever, I suspect. Others, I hope, will disappear the minute our vaccines free up our lives a little more.

I was reminded of these changes while recently trying to FaceTime with my six-year old granddaughter. We were experiencing some connection issues and I thought it was hilarious when she said "You're glitching - I'll call you back." This is an example of one change that is here to stay. The very youngest amongst us has become far too familiar with technology and the terminology to describe its inherent frustrations.

During our next FaceTime date, this same granddaughter said, "I have a new friend. Would you like to meet her?" She waltzed the phone outside to introduce me to this newest friend. Kneeling down to grass level, she pointed the camera at a single dandelion in full bloom and said, "Meet Jamie". As you can imagine, I was surprised but I've learned not to react with this creative girl. My immediate response was "Dandelions tend to have larger families." She then marched over to show me a stack of dandelions inside a bucket explaining she had rescued Jamie from the same fate as all of her brothers and sisters. 

While I welcome this granddaughter's creative thinking, I'm praying this change (creating friends from plants) will disappear the minute real children are once again routinely welcomed over to play.

Today, I realized when glancing at my shopping list that changes have happened in my own household as well.

Pinning down exactly when whipping cream crept onto my shopping list as a staple would be difficult. Yet, as I glance at the current list on the fridge, there it is - top of the dairy list. Since I have no pending recipes planned needing whipping cream (and no memory of writing it), it seems to have just taken its place naturally amongst the other staples.

I'm sure it began innocently enough. One recipe called for 1 cup so I sent Hubby out for a small package. The next time I needed more than one cup so asked for the larger size but, in the end, needed less than the 2 cups it contained.

None of us likes to waste food. Knowing that a container with 1/2 cup of whipping cream sat idly in the fridge would have increased my anxiety to mitigate wastage. I don't remember that first fateful step to use up the excess; I may have used it in making a cream soup when short on the half and half variety.

It's a slippery slope once you begin to look for ways to use whipping cream. I discovered a recipe for scones made with whipping cream in the mix and then using it to brush on top after baking. 

There really is no doubt that mashed potatoes are truly delectable with whipping cream rather than boring old milk.

No cream fraiche! No problem. Whisk a little whipping cream with a bit of buttermilk and - voila.

Goes without saying that cream sauces are superior when whipping cream is used. Tarragon sauce over chicken is raised up many levels with the natural thickening whipping cream brings to the dish. Move over plain old white sauce - your days are numbered.

I could go on and on envisioning each and every dish I've enhanced with the magic of whipping cream. But I won't. This is definitely one change that will soon disappear from our household. I'm going to show inner strength and suggest it might even occur before our vaccines take hold. That gives me four months to think this through ...

Big Sister's Role in the time of Big Brother

I may be a luddite (see earlier post) but I'm conscious enough of technology to understand that my online searches will result in ads, pinterest posts, etc. directly related to previous searches. Whether I use a search engine or Pinterest directly, I know that for the next day or two (and randomly forever after), I will see pop up ads or posts that fit that search.

This has annoyed me in the past, making me resent Big Brother. Who created Big Brother, by the way?  As the youngest of three girls, I only experienced the oversight of Big Sisters (sometimes with not the nicest intentions but generally looking out for my best interests). 

I begin to think of Big Sister's role in all of this. Where is she? Doesn't she have a role in technology, too?

I've never been one to buy into conspiracy theories but, today, in all honesty, my Spidey senses were humming. 

Yesterday I was thinking - I stress thinking - about asking a friend to make some scrunchies for my new COVID-long hair. 

There really is no reason on earth for me to search for scrunchies. I mean, come on, they're pretty basic hair items. Elastic wrapped in fabric! I don't even know if there is a way to jazz them up but why would I need to? They serve a purpose. If I am being really fussy, I might choose one that coordinates with my outfit of the day. Otherwise, a scrunchie is just a functional hair accessory. 

So my thoughts as I sat with Hubby this morning enjoying morning coffee and ready to begin my online meandering were far from scrunchies. 

This may be my favourite time of day; absolute quiet (one of the only times of the day without tv or news streaming); sun shining in the window; nothing but time ahead of us. On days when I feel bored by the online offerings, I bring out my current read and enjoy a book for a while.

Today, though, I was searching with purpose. My Pinterest travels this morning included a search for a chocolate mocha whipped ganache for a cake I plan to bake. In amongst the many delicious offerings, I began to see multiple postings with scrunchies!

Remember, I thought about asking my friend to make the scrunchies. I never typed it, wrote it or discussed it with anyone.

This, I think, is where Big Sister comes in. While Big Brother may be watching and tracking our online movements with a view to directing us to their paying advertisers, Big Sister is using her feminine intuition to guide us toward our wants and needs almost before we have thought of them ourselves. 

She understands our hair appointments over the past year have been few and far between. She is aware we need new ways to manage this hair length. It's almost as though she's saying ... "Here, I recommend scrunchies. They're easy to use, inexpensive and can match your outfit." 

Thank you Big Sister. I appreciate you looking out for me.

The only other explanation is that our technology is now capable of reading our minds.

Not going there.