BINGO!!

My Gramma has been on my mind lately. Last time I visited her I took her to a really fantastic ice cream place. La Casa Gelato in Vancouver.

They have over 500 flavours in their repertoire and have 218 flavours available any time you go in. Not that I'm a huge fan of Martha Stewart, you have to admit she's pretty picky. She visited this place and was wowed.

Here's a picture of Gramma with her ice cream.

Gramma chose vanilla. Go figure. Grammas, I tell ya.

She's almost 88. She lives in Vancouver. I don't. I don't get to see her all that often though I wish I could.

My cousin told me about a month ago that Gramma fell in January and that she's been having tests to try to figure out what happened. They were checking her for blood clots in her legs which can mean all sorts of medical problems like aneurysms, embolisms and strokes. For a couple of weeks I wished like crazy that I could fly out to visit her. Having been to Chicago to meet my hero, Buddy Guy, then taking my son to a town 3 hours away for hernia repair, I just didn't feel I could afford to go.

A week after learning that Gramma was having some trouble, a friend who works at an airline emailed to tell me about a word-of-mouth fare promotion they were having. In honour of Valentine's day anyone with specific last names usually associated with the holiday could book on one particular day to fly on Valentine's Day to anywhere in Canada for $14. You could have 2 flights that one day but the special only applied to flights on Valentine's Day.

It was a sign to me that this was the time. The stars came into alignment and I heard the message loud and clear. "Get out and see Gramma. Valentine's Day is the perfect day to see her and show her you love her."

I called on the booking day, saying that a little birdie had told me about a special deal they were having. I managed to get a flight that would land me in Vancouver at 7 a.m. I opted not to fly back that night but rather spend a few days seeing her and some other family and friends.

Once I'd booked my flights and rental car, I phoned Gramma and told her I was coming out to be her Valentine. She asked what my plans were. I told her that was up to her.

"How about bingo?"

Awww, crap! "Sure, Gramma! Bingo it is!"

It was set. I had my date for Valentine's. Flight, dinner, bingo with an 88 year old woman.

I got to town and got the rental car so that I could pick up Gramma and her walker to take her wherever it was we'd end up going.

I arrived at my long-time friend of 28 years, Danny's place, where I'd be staying and had coffee and a decent visit before taking off for a chilly walk along the seawall at English Bay with a cousin. We had a little late lunch. We picked up a dozen roses for Gramma.

By the end of the walk, the sun was setting over the bay.

We brought Gramma her flowers and had some visit time. Here's Gramma with her flowers, wearing red and making kissy face for Valentine's Day.

The next day I had some time with my friends and an aunt. We met in Chinatown for dim sum. My friends and I had some time to stroll a trendy area to do some window shopping before I had to pick Gramma up for bingo.

She had told me we needed to be at the Italian Community Association by 2 pm so she could get her "good" seat. She was waiting for me in the lobby of her facility. I got her tucked and belted into her seat, loaded up her walker then away we went.

When we arrived, she was SO happy that a bingo buddy of hers had saved her "good" seat. I asked what time bingo would start.

"Oh, 5 or 5:30 usually."

I looked at the time, wondering how we'd fill it. Man, we were early. But Gramma was happy and that was the key.

We played some card games and one by one her bingo buddies stopped by to chat and meet her granddaughter. As I listened to their conversations, I realized this is her "place".

Bingo finally began at 6 pm. We played and chatted with her buddies around us. I won $90. I split it with Gramma then bought "lucky" cards for all her friends and ran around distributing them. That's the bingo thing to do, I found out.

At intermission, we had spaghetti for dinner that the hall was selling. In nice styrofoam containers. With shiny plastic forks. It was one of the more memorable dinners I've had, not because of the blasé food but because of the memory we were creating. These days, I know when a moment is in creation and this was one of them.

Bingo ended. Here's Gramma and me back at her place.

By the time I got back to Danny's, it was 11 pm. Danny was in bed with his laptop when I got there. I changed for bed in my room then went and sat on his bed to exchange info about our days and reflect.

I realized that though I think bingo is boring this is where her friends are. This is where she meets up with the people who are interested in her life. This is where she spends time with people who want to help her because they care about her. I decided that bingo is a pretty good place.

Even if it is 9 freaking hours long.

I know Gramma doesn't have much time left. I know she's tired, worn out from living. She told me, "I'm just so tired, my girl. I'm really tired."

The doctors suspect her fall was caused by a mini stroke. I think Gramma isn't really interested to know. She's tired. That's all she needs to know. And I know that one day I am going to get a call saying she didn't wake up one morning. Soon.

When I get that call, I'm going to stay home and remember her sitting at bingo with that great big child-like grin on her face.

She showed me the picture she wants in her obituary. I tried to take a picture of it but it didn't turn out very well.

She wants to be remembered as her young, beautiful self. That's a good way to be remembered, don't you think?

Bingo. It's really a good thing too, don't you think?

I think so. I really think so.

For the Love of Cooking - Joong (Sticky Rice in Bamboo Leaves)

More of my cooking passion.

Generally, only old Chinese ladies make these. Does that mean I'm an old (half) Chinese lady??

Here's a slideshow.

For the Love of Cooking - Index

This is where you'll find links to my cooking references.

For the Love of Cooking - Joong (Sticky Rice in Bamboo Leaves)

For the Love of Cooking - Potstickers

For the Love of Cooking - Wonton Soup

For The Love of Cooking - Potstickers

Cooking is a passion of mine. I like to do everything myself so that I know what I'm putting into myself and the ones I cook for.

This slideshow is about making potstickers.

Queen of the Buck Shoppers

My mother lives in a small town in BC not a supremely long drive from here. In this small town are many businesses owned by local people. In these locally owned businesses, you can find, nearly every day, a clearance bin. In these clearance bins, you can very often find items for a BUCK.

My mother is the QUEEN of items for a buck. She LOVES items for a buck. She doesn't CARE what it is, long as it's just a buck. Mom's a buck shopper. She LOVES to find the thing out there for a buck. She'll search high and low, hour after hour, day after day, for the item that she KNOWS is out there for a buck. It's all about "bucks" for Mom. She wants to either save a buck or spend a buck but she hates to spend more than a buck. And the item she buys must be considerably more valuable than a buck. It has to be marked down from like $20 or more. Dollar stores will NOT do.

I've lived in this city 10 years and I can't tell you the number of hours, the number of days, the amount of money I've spent on gas, the number of times I've foregone work (I work from home)because she'll be here, trying to help her try to find something for a buck! I hate it. I hate shopping. I hate the wasted time. I hate the cranky crowds. I hate the cranky clerks. I've ended EVERY one of these trips cranky myself.

Has she ever, in all that time, found an item here for a buck?? NO! Still. She's convinced it's out there and she won't stop till she finds it.

I tell her all the time...

"Ma. There's nothing for a buck in the city. It's worth more to these stores and companies to donate the stuff and get a tax deduction for the full value. That's worth a LOT more to them, than your buck."

One weekend in December, it was my uncle's 70th birthday celebration. Huge. 150 people for dinner. People traveling from far and wide...as far as Hong Kong even. And people traveling from not as far and wide...like my mother and her husband from BC.

So. I was talking to my cousin who's organizing this surprise shindig for my uncle.

"Is Ma going?" I ask her.

"Yes. She RSVP'd yes."

"Oh. One day she's gonna actually INFORM me when she's planning to stay with me."

"Maybe she's not planning on it."

"Where else is she going to stay? She'll never stay in a hotel."

"Maybe you're right."

So a day or two later, Ma phones and asks if I'm going to the shindig. She reserves the guest suite for the upcoming weekend and tells me, "We'll be there if it doesn't snow and there's no snow on the road."

"All righty," I say, and I think "...ya crazy nutcake," cuz if the wind blows harder than she likes when she's on a road trip, she pulls off to the shoulder and WAITS for it to stop! Rain...well she pulls off as soon as 2 drops hit her window in a 30 second time frame. Snow she absolutely does NOT do on road trips.

Friday the weather is beautiful. Sunday's weather is predicted to be beautiful. Friday evening, mother arrives with her husband in tow. We have some dinner and I inform her that I signed up for a Christmas bake exchange. I have to bake this weekend. Since I have to get the ingredients and pull everything out this weekend, I'm going to do ALL my holiday baking including the stuff I do for gift baskets and she gets to help.

"I'm not baking," she says.

"Yes, you are," I say.

"I'll watch YOU," she says.

"You stay in my house, you help," I counter.

Saturday morning comes and we hit the grocery store for all the goodies I use pretty well only once a year. As we enter, Ma spies all these pre-boxed, pre-made goodies in the bakery.

"Just get a bunch of this stuff and put it in your own boxes and stuff," she says.

"No. That's totally the wrong point," I tell her, knowing she has an ulterior motive for encouraging me to do this...freeing up baking time and making time for buck-shopping.

We get home and we make the dough for...

thimble cookies, ginger snaps, chewy coconut ganache pinwheels, sugar cookies, orange cranberry almond sable cookies, lime meltaways and florentines.

I decide I'll bake them Sunday after she goes and do my exchange delivery in the evening.

We go to Uncle's dinner and have a good time, then my cousin Missy, whose name isn't really Missy, and I organize a bunch of the girl cousins to forego the fake casino after dinner to take the aunties out to the real casino afterward. We return home about midnight with the old ladies happy they'd been taken on an adventure.

I slept in on Sunday and got up after Mom and her husband had hit the road.

My confession?

I specifically and ONLY took part in the bake exchange and slept in so I wouldn't have to spend the entire weekend, driving my car, burning gas and buying lunch to look for something for a BUCK!

Three Words

I was sent links to this by a friend. It's very much the kind of thing I identify with. I watched and loved it.

3 little words to live by. So many combinations, so many thoughts, so many emotions conveyed in 3 little words.

Be The Change

All People Matter

Understand One Another

Every Opinion Counts

Open Your Heart

Let Love Shine

Hug Someone Today

Be Someone's Hero

Live Every Moment

Imperfect Loving Mom

Strive to Understand

Let Humour Reign

Those are some of the ones that immediately came to my mind. What 3 words do you live by? Please share them ALL!

I Know What God Looks Like

As I drove home one evening from a conversation with God, the dark clouds lit up with lightning across the entire sky over Calgary. On the way home, I felt just like this picture looks. That's what the sky looked like that night. Funny how it was sent to me just when I was feeling the way the picture looks.

It's all bright and beautiful and successful and growing and memorable and a great competitor in the world. It's glossy and bright and generously basted in blessings. And overhead a storm is crackling back and forth. The lightning is unsettling, imparting a feeling of danger, maybe. And it is amazing and beautiful and mesmerizing as well.

This picture happens to be Calgary taken last July. That's how it looked and how I felt coming home that night. I watched it, but I was part of it as well. It was me. I was it.

I know what God looks like. That day I saw God. Well. I've seen God quite a few times actually. Please don't get all hung up on the word. Feel free to substitute any word you wish like "higher power", "karma", "reason", "fate", "wisdom", "destiny", "powers that be", "instinct", "guardian angel", "logic", "revelation", "intuition", "Yahweh", whatever you want to call it. I like "God" because it's a nice easy 3-letter word. Just make a mental note that I mean for it to cover everyone's beliefs or disbeliefs.

I know what God looks like, as I said. And as I said, I've seen God a few times now. God looks different every time. To me, anyway. I'm sure when you see God, God looks way different to you than God does to me.

I even took a picture. Of course I'd take a picture. Please.

God looks a little like Mrs. Doubtfire, wouldn't you say? Actually, God has like 4 or 6 sisters or something and they all sort of look like Mrs. Doubtfire in a variety of sizes. Do you know how difficult it is to remember the names of a bunch of various-sized Mrs Doubtfires when you meet them all at the same moment? No. You have no idea.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever. If God can look like George Burns with a big stogie, God can look a bit like Mrs. Doubtfire. My God can, anyway. Yours can look like George Burns if you want. I believe God has many faces and can show up in the strangest of places. But. God only ever looks like the ones who love you without motive. That's the hitch.

She's one of the unspouse's aunties. Well. I'm adopted and he's disowned (I'm kidding, but I do see her a lot more than he does) so she's mine now.

I called her that day. Then I went to pick her up. I waited a few minutes, strolling through her yard, checking out her gardens, for her to get back from an errand then we'd be on our way.


We chirped happily at one another in the car then I treated her to one of her favorite restaurants. I had dinner with God. And after dinner with God, I took God to get some produce. When I walked God to the door, carrying the groceries and God's "stoopid laundry" that she forgot in her car, I was invited in for a conversation.






Here's one of God and me together.





And so that night I had a conversation with God. And it made me go home feeling like this picture.





Have you ever felt this way? Have you ever felt all bright and shiny and attractive and full of activity ... while you try to be all nonchalant about the storm crackling about in the periphery of your bright, attractive, shininess?

During my conversation with God, I realized there is a moment hovering on the horizon. Deciding what I want to be when I grow up. That moment. It's coming.

I felt like that picture. Flashes of electrical emotion shot through me intermittently. I felt a bit nauseous. I felt emotionally on edge but I'm not sure if it was happy or not-so-happy emotion. I could probably have squirted happy or sad, or maybe both, tears at the drop of a hat, in a blink of an eye, or in a single heartbeat.

I've never done anything this big for myself by myself before. Whatever I did before, I had support of some kind or other, whether it was moral or academic or someone who was at least around to just tell the kids when it was bedtime. It was even financial a time or two.

When I went to high school I worked nearly full time at the same time. I graduated top of my class. I was able to do that because I lived with my parents.


When I went to college, I didn't have to worry because I had scholarships and bursaries and parents willing to help if need be.


I remember being internally driven and running with it because I knew the ones who love me formed a safety net above, under and all around me. I remember breaking down in tears having driven myself hard and finished a 9 month course in 3. I had to. I "needed" to be ready for the January intake in Vancouver at the college there. I remember it being very okay with me to break down for an hour or so. I felt I'd earned it.

I have been the provider of the moral, emotional, spousal, co-parental and financial support for someone else.

I felt like that picture because I had a conversation with God that night. I was working through some major trepidation.

I had a conversation with God, who looked like Mrs. Doubtfire. I know once again, it's deep breath and LEAP time. But this is the first time I'll have to leap AND catch. It's just me. It's coming. Soon I must quit thinking, quit talking and just leap as soon as I understand what it is I want to be when I grow up.

Dammit. And I thought I'd arrived at a place in life where I could rest a bit.

Has anyone else seen God? What does God look like to you?