Bandwagon

I love any bandwagon where I can make myself feel smart. There is a book meme going on that states that most people have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here.

I have placed an * after the ones I have read and added a + if I loved the book.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen *
The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien *+
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte *+
Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling *+
To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee *+
The Bible *
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte *+
1984 by George Orwell *+
His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman *+
Great Expectations by Charles Dickens *+
Little Women by Louisa M. Alcott *
Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy *
Catch 22 by Joseph Heller *+
Complete Works of Shakespeare
Rebecca by Daphne DuMaurier
The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien *+
Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks
Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger *
The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger *+
Middlemarch by George Eliot *+
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Bleak House by Charles Dickens *+
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy *+
The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams *+
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky *+
Grapes of Wrath by Jon Steinbeck *+
Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame *+
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy *+
David Copperfield by Charles Dickens *+
Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis *
Emma by Jane Austen *
Persuasion by Jane Austen
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis *
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini *+
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis De Bernieres
Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden *
Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne *
Animal Farm by George Orwell *+
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown *
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez *+
A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving *+
Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery
Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood *+
Lord of the Flies by William Golding *+
Atonement by Ian McEwan *
Life of Pi by Yann Martel *
Dune by Frank Herbert *+
Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons
Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen *
A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth *+
The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens *+
Brave New World by Aldous Huxley *+
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night by Mark Haddon *
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez *+
Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck *+
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov *+
The Secret History by Donna Tartt
The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold *+
Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas *+
On the Road by Jack Kerouac
Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy *
Bridget Jone’s Diary by Helen Fielding *
Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie *+
Moby Dick by Herman Melville *+
Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens *
Dracula by Bram Stoker *+
The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
Notes From A Small Island by Bill Bryson
Ulysses by James Joyce *
The Inferno by Dante *
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
Swallows and Amazons by Arthur Ransome
Germinal by Emile Zola
Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray *
Possession by A.S. Byatt *
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens *+
Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell
The Color Purple by Alice Walker *
The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert *
A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry *+
Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White *+
The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom *
Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
The Faraway Tree Collection by Enid Blyton
Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad *
The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery *+
The Wasp Factory by Ian Banks
Watership Down by Richard Adams *+
A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole *+
A Town Like Alice by Nevil Shute *
The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas *
Hamlet by William Shakespeare *
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl
Les Miserables by Victor Hugo *+

Since I was diagnosed with Inflammatory Breast Cancer I have not really read as I use too. I have gone from a few books a week to maybe a book a month. I need to escape again.

Cheers To Magic

The Sears catalogue came in the mail the other day. Boy oh boy the magic that book gave me. Or was it magic that my mother gave me by setting the scene.

Maybe my Mom was really the good witch of the memory by calling a wee girl to the door to see what a mere mortal man had hidden in the box attached to the house.

Maybe my Mom was really the good witch of the memory by handing me the book and whisking me off to her bedroom where I was placed in the center of the bed, leaving me feel that I was picked (by who, I never knew) to turn that first page that would allow me to get to the magic kingdom of toys. Handed a box of medicine (chocolates) and told that today, of all days, I too would get some medicine.

Maybe my Mom was really the good witch of the memory by placing a magic kiss on my head and then slowly shutting the door of that extraordinary room that for some reason I felt was attached to Santa’s workshop.

I don’t know if I ever held a bible with such reverence as I did that Sears catalogue.

I believe that was the beginning of when I felt that other worlds existed.

I have always believed and still believe that other worlds exist. After all, what is on the other side of the moon, lying in the crack of a mirror, between the walls that separate a room, hiding in the tiniest corner between the slats on a bookcase, glimmering in the icicles hanging off the house, and hidden in the moss at the base of the tree?

I have often tried to reach these places, wherever they are. I tried hard to get through the cracks in the walls between the bedrooms and I turned the pages of many a book and found glimpses of the other worlds all over the place. I would often look for split trunks on the trees with the most moss just so that I could climb to another dimension that I knew with a certainty was there.

Even now I see little signs that point to another place, like the light shining on the snow, the glass of ice that now separates the road in front of my house from the air above it, the moon shifting position allowing us in until it closes right up once a month and then we wait again.

But more than anything I see someplace else in the sparkle of Josephine’s eyes. I hear the tinkling of far off bells in the clap of her hands that surely lead to the sprites and angels that are making her laugh. Even when I see in front of me that those sprites and angels look like her Mom and Dad, Auntie Nadalene and Uncle Charlton, Uncle Nathan or her Grandpa.

I personally see other much softer, kinder worlds when I am with Josephine. I completely feel my body being lifted up. I gaze into her eyes and whoosh; I am moved to a happier, more forgiving place. I become better than what I was. Magic so exists.

I credit my Mom for my love of the fantastical. After all, I never ever heard of my friends mothers seeing shadow people. But my Mom has always seen them. As a matter of fact she saw a couple walking down the hall the other day. I myself had never seen them, except for a week after my Dad died when a shadow person was in my room and when I turned around it scooted away.

Cheers to magic and may we all find some.

Strike A Match

Two weeks ago Angelique, Nadalene, Nathan and I went to Grand Forks.   Nathan and I were in the book section (surprise, surprise) of a store and I picked up a little gem.

The book prompts you with a sentence and you write a little fiction how you see fit.

I'm hoping that you will strike a match with me as I toss out the prompt.   The prompt will be in itallics.  

A life-long bigot changes his way of thinking after a single illuminating experience.

I had never been in this town before and no matter how good I usually am with maps, I knew I was lost.  I pulled over on 9th Street to get my bearings and to grab a sandwich at their local Timmies.

Seriously I am not in the restaurant for more than 40 minutes when I see protestors out the window.  Shit the road is blocked, I will not be able to move forward, nor will I be able to go backward.  I guess I will just have to stay cool and watch the protest from my seat, so I may as well get another double double coffee.

For Christ’s sake, wouldn’t you know it!  God damn Indians.  What do they want me to give them now?

I feel like getting in my car and running right through them, I’m sure I could end that protest chop chop.  It would be my own Custard’s last stand.  Ha ha.

Well, I hope they are happy, that little parade has set me back over three hours and I absolutely hate driving in the dark.

For shit sake, I just had those tires checked.  Nice, now I have to change it in the dark and I can barely see.  Bloody Indians.

Speaking of Indians, shit here come a couple now.

‘Evening.’

I nod.

‘Do you need any help?’

I am shocked, since when do they help Chinese people.

‘We can help you push the car closer to the house and you can come have dinner with us if you would like.  Oh by the way I am Pete and this is my son Derk.’

I’m Frank.  I am already late for an appointment, so I will just get this fixed and be on my way.

They will probably try to scalp me the minute I walk in the door.  No thanks.

Instead of going in to their dinner, they give me a hand and talk about the protest Derk had attended earlier that day.

I thank them and drive off.

I keep trying to see where they fit in my image of all things Indian.  Granted, I have never talked to an Indian, I think they prefer Aboriginal.  These Aboriginals seem so different from my entrenched picture.  For one they weren’t drunk.  In reality it was as if they were like everyone else I know.  I know that can’t be right.  It must be just because I am tired.

It has been over two months since I made that trip, but I can’t believe how it has changed me.  I was so afraid of someone I had never talked to before.  So afraid because I was taught to be afraid.  I am not afraid anymore.

Holy crap guys, this was harder than I thought.  I actually had to think.  I hope some of you will try it.

xoxoxoxoxo

Center Of My Circle

When Yvette and I were both working at Tax we would listen to Harry Potter on tape.  We shared our tapes and our love of the story.  We also shared our dislike of the Dementors in the series and would describe to each other how similar so many people in our office were.  (I know  that was Dementor behaviour on our part.)

Dementors are beings that suck the life out of a person.  Literally they would put their mouth on yours and give you the kiss of death.  Where they were there was no joy, everyone in their vicinity was left with a feeling of utter despair.  We all know the refrain from the Dementors theme song; gloom and doom and doom and gloom, life is shitty and so are the people in it, mope, mope and more mope, gloom and doom and doom and gloom.

See how they can suck you in.  I am totally getting away from myself because I am not here to talk about Harry Potter or Dementors.  I am here to talk about the opposite of Dementors.

I am here to talk about Life-Lifters, which Yvette is one of and Jill was the master of.

My concept of a Life-Lifter is very simple.  It is a person that chooses to uplift everyone around them.  They are the type of people that after talking to them you always feel better, even if you can't remember what they said.  They are the people who seem to have it altogether even if they swear that they don’t.  People like to be around them because they are really interested in you as a person, as another human being on this planet.  They care about your well-being and they want you to be happy.  They themselves are happy.

I try to foster acceptance and understanding by living life as a Life-Lifter by:

Doing the small things that make life special.
Giving freely, without expectations.
Smiling at people.
Being grateful.
Looking people in the eyes when talking to them.
Thinking of others.
Wishing upon a star.
Being sincere.
Delighting in delighting others.
Laughing at myself.
Staying calm.
Knowing that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Living by my word and meaning what I say.
Being friendly.
Learning consistently.
Giving others a feeling of safety and understanding.
Seeing things in a positive manner.
Sharing hope and joy.
Understanding that everyone is special.
Being patient and kind.
Quietly doing things for others.
Not being a martyr.
Having a global conscience.
Making life better for those around me.
Being forgiving.
Giving people the benefit of the doubt.
Trusting in God.
Being honest.
Loving life.
Believing that dragons sing within the rocky mountains.
Talking to young children, especially teens.
Not feeling sorry for myself which is not the same as sometimes feeling sad for myself.

We need less Dementors in this world and more Life-Lifters.  What do you say, do you want to hop on board?

Lets you and I choose to be the Life-Lifters within our circle.  Pass on a kindness today even if it is just a little smile.  Some soul out there needs it.  And if it is you that needs it, then I am sending it to you.  If you look you will find it in a child’s face.

So from the center of my circle I am sending all of you positive thoughts to your circle and beyond.

My Heaven Will Certainly Have a Library

My first love was my mother and father, my second love was my siblings (8 sisters and 4 brothers), and my third love was books or paper.  I have disappointed or been disappointed by my first two loves, but never by my third.

My Mom with her keen eye spotted my love of books at an early age.  One of my first memories involves the Sears Christmas Catalogue.  I would know of its arrival by my Mom calling me to her room where she would show me a shiny magazine, wrapped in its delivery paper or plastic. The ritual had started.

Journey back with me to a 4-year olds memory, to a simpler time and a Christmas catalogue.  I would be allowed to climb up on her bed, my Mom would plump up the pillows and put the blanket on my lap, I would get handed the magazine unopened, I was allowed to open it (this was probably the only time I was ever allowed to open anything besides my Christmas presents or a door).  My Mom would just about walk out of the room when she would suddenly turn and tell me that she forgot to give me some of her medicine (a piece of Black Magic chocolate  -- there sure was magic going on in that room at that time but it certainly wasn't black magic), she would present the box and I was allowed to pick any one I wanted. Mom would slowly shut the door and I was left to my own little heaven on a bed in a bedroom that we were never allowed in, with a chocolate in one hand and the catalogue in the other.  I think I have just described my first Crush.

I remember being 7 years old in Grade 2 and my Mom always letting me read my older brothers and sisters books.  I especially remember reading a Grade 5 English Book that had lots of stories in the one book.  Crush No. 2.

On and on and on; books and books and books.  

When I was 15 or 16 I read a series of books from a French writer that were translated into English.  These books were about a steamy, sulty, sexy, brave, intelligent, kind, adventurous woman named 'Angelique'.  I loved the character and I loved the name, not of course as much as I love my own Angelique, but you get the point.

I wish I could take credit for Nadalene's name too, but I can't.  Wahid named Nadalene after a girl he liked at grade school in Trinidad.  I absolutely love the name.  At first I kept thinking he meant Magdalene or even Natalie, but no he meant Nadalene.  I had never heard it before.  But now it is one of my favourite names.  It sounds like music to me.

I can take credit with Wahid in naming Nathan.  If we had a boy we wanted a strong name.  At the time I was reading what some people call the greatest book of all (Bible).  I remember exactly what was going on when I spotted the name.  Angelique was at school, Wahid was at work, Nadalene was home from kindergarden and was dancing around the rec room, while I was sitting in a brown checked chair watching her dance and sing, and reading the bible on the sly whenI saw the name.  I told Wahid and we both loved it.  Not of course as much as we love our own Nathan, but you get the point.  By the way, Nathan is NOT short for Nathaniel.

So as you can see two out of three of our children's names came out of books.  Crush No. 3.

I have probably over the years read thousands of books, averaging three books a week.  In many ways I have read books rather than lived an active life.  That is probably more bad than good, but it is what it is.

When I was diagnosed with cancer I stopped reading for enjoyment.  I had 'The Time Traveller's Wife' on my nightstand for over a year.  Finally read it for my bookclub.

It would seem appropriate that someone who's name came out of a 
book would buy me books to kick start my reading again.
Books that would help me live with my diagnosis.  Books that would inspire me.
Thank you Angelique.

The first book Angelique bought was 'Cancer - 50 Essential Things to Do' by Greg Anderson.  This book helped me journal out so many feelings.  It gave me so much insight and some quotes that empowered me.  Such as: "A spiritually toxic outlook after a cancer diagnosis can make a difficult situation a living hell."  "Treatment is effetive." and "Be a tough-minded realist using a just-think-positive approach to find solutions. Look for why I can do things; not why I can't."  Journalling with this book was an incredibly healing process.  I highly recommend this book to anyone dealing with cancer or trying to understand cancer.

Angelique bought me 'The Power of Now' by Eckhart Tolle.  I had first heard of this book from one of my very favourite people (Elizabeth).  This book really just confirmed how I was already living.  I would recommend this book to anyone.

Reading these last two books certainly was not Crush No. 4, however what they did for me is what I enjoy the most about reading.  They made me think.