And I've traced my tree back to Ragnar Lothbrok

Since our tree has been traced back to Thorsteinn the Red, a few clicks away on Wikipedia led me back to Ragnar Lothbrok.  The legend states that Thorsteinn would have been a contemporary of Ragnar, which makes many a historian wonder about the sagas.  Was Ragnar alive a century or so earlier?  Since my other ancestor (Snorri Sturlason) was a big influence, who knows?  A mystery to be solved in my lifetime.

signed, the willow

Willow Winds @ the RBG

On Good Friday, we went for a spin....to blow the stink off.  We landed our eager legs at the RBG in hope of feeding birdies.  However, the birds were being generously fed and we couldn't find a parking spot.  So we drove down to the Arboretum.  First, we had had to watch the monkey climb a tree.

Then the monkey fell into the shadows of the Willow Winds sculpture.  Amazing how someone decided to salvage these beauties and create anchored artwork out of them.  And what a great way to explore your shadow amongst these curvaceous pretties.

signed, the willow

While we wait for Spring....something cute for you to see

Photos courtesy of my sweetie neighbour, Maren.  She's a talent and inspiration.  What's with all the artsy neighbours of today and yesterday?  Neighbours with paintbrushes. Neighbours with cameras (and many songs written on her albums!).  Neighbours with oil paints.  Neighbours with watercolour ink.  Yes, you Jules!  I miss you.

I have to say that I see my face emerging in the photo above.  Maybe she does look a little like me?

signed, the willow

As the Lancaster flew overhead today

As the Lancaster flew overhead today, it's hard not to think of how awful it must have been to hear that your son, brother, uncle, grandson, brother-in-law had died in one of those bombers.

We shouldn't have to fight wars.  There should always be peace.  It's a god-given right on this planet.  How fortunate we are to be born in a peaceful country with a peaceful environment and peaceful surroundings.  We concern ourselves with the toxicity of our toys, food, and pleasures.  We have pleasures.  Too many of us are born into this world with angst, fear, war, and starvation.  

War doesn't just affect the men and women fighting for their comrades and freedom.  War saddened the families left behind....for generations.

signed, the willow

Heroes

My great-grandfather who fought for this country (all 5'3" of him) even though he was British.  He moved his family to Canada to serve for Lord Strathcona's Horse.  He survived the Boer War and moved his family back to England.  My grandmother was born in Canada during his term with LSH.  She later moved to England with her family and subsequently back to Canada when she had a family.

My grandfather's baby brother served with the RCAF and flew for Canada from 1941-1943 until his Lancaster plane was shot down over Germany in early 1943.  He was 27 when he died and never met my father, who inherited the same first name.

Who do you remember this Remembrance Day?

signed, the willow

On occasion

On occasion we meet someone who cares enough to listen and pay attention.

*L* is one of these people that I was fortunate enough to meet.  An old soul and she's been chosen by my cousin to join him in life.  I've respected my little cousin (they're all littler than me in age) and looked forward to the moment that he'd marry and bring a wife into our nutso family. He didn't disappoint.  Funny thing is, because of geography and circumstance, I'm here in this obscure suburban city at the same point in life as they are.

It's rare, isn't it?  To spark a friendship so instantly? We've sparked a friendship and influenced each other more than we know.  Not in that silly old school girl way.  In a mature, eye-opening way.  I've just finished a portion of my life that I'd like to sweep under a carpet in some ways.  I made mistakes.  Big ones.  Mistakes I regret making.  Mistakes I am also thankful to have experienced.  I grew.  Grew in so many large leaps.  I gained some really great friends on that journey. Friends I long for and miss. Friendships have always presented themselves to me, but I refused to let myself get attached in the event that I would get attached and I'd get hurt.  Human nature goes here.  The unique friendships I gained in Muskoka were brief, but deep.

They affected me in a way that I had never expected.  There were women and some men that genuinely wanted to see my life's purpose work out.  What I didn't know then was, that was not my life's purpose.  It was the adversity I needed to face in order to pick myself up and dust myself off to discover my life's purpose.  Do I know what my purpose is?  Hmmm.  Maybe not perfectly clear on that yet.  I do now know that I feel better about myself.  

So, where is this all leading and where does it tie in back to *L*?  Well, what happened to me when I left that portion of  life behind and my friends situated on the map 3 hours north was I found a new friend.  Immediately. The first day we arrived back into our southern nest, she was an immediate and natural relief.  Opened her arms and hugged us.  She must have followed us from Muskoka where I had tearfully left so many great huggers behind.  She allowed me to be myself.  She's my instant friend and we've discovered so many great similarities and lessons to learn from each other.  We've learned to drag ourselves out to meet up with other new friends too.  And that's the best part.  We can teach each other how to be a friend.

Most importantly, I learned the other day that *L* clearly paid attention and cared.  She recognized that I'm celebrating a birthday this month and while it's not until later this month, her thoughtfulness reigned over the day and she brought me a special surprise.  One I did not expect.  One I certainly shall express my gratefulness here.  Grateful for listening and being a true friend.


A "K" mug.  So stylish and reminds me of 'Steven and Chris' but with edge and way more class.

A bag of coffee I've always wanted to try.  Named for a famous Canadian author (Guess who?) and also the name of my grandmother.  So very special.

A bag to hold it all with a motto that I live by.

And then there's this book.  One that I've been eyeballing online and dreaming that I'd go buy it when I was willing to part with my ...*ahem*... money.  Okay, okay:  my husband's money.  I dove right into that book and had trouble putting it down.  *L* really gets me.


I'm sure you feel the same about someone you've met.  Share.  And if you can't share it with me, share your story about a great friend with someone.  Shout it from the mountaintops.  Just don't hold it in like I did for so many years with so many really true friends, who still stand by my side.  You know who you are.

signed, the willow

Abandoned Places

source:  mining markets

Lately I've noticed a lot of the posting and re-posting of the 100 abandoned houses of Detroit.

Which makes me think of this site, Ontario Abandoned Places.  It has long been one of my favourite sites to get a spine chill.  One of my favourites is an old mine in Ear Falls.  Primarily because I grew up not too far away.  But also because we used to visit old mining spots as a bit of a hobby with my family.

One of our faves was a stop along the Hudson highway (Hwy 664), where the concentration of iron in the lake (or man made puddle of trailings) was reddish brown.  There were so many old artifacts there, it was like stepping back in time.  The buildings were falling down (or had fallen down) and terribly dangerous.  I'm sure it's all but disappeared into the shadows of the scrubby brush along the highway and been barricaded by nature.

I'd love some more history on that mine.  Who worked there?  Where did those people disappear to?  I have an image of a society of people that vanished in some fashion like that of a M. Night Shyamalan movie.

signed, the willow

What else would I write about this week

First Day of School

signed, the willow

Alive & Kicking

What a fun filled summer

Gramma came to visit and the *mila* painted her own face

We listened to Ruth at our store. 

ruth cassie.  Ruth Cassie.  RUTH CASSIE.  Ruth Cassie.  ruth cassie.

We made over the store a wee bit and got some pillows in the inventory thanks to Gramma! 
(Lady of the Lake)

Then Debbie Travis came to town and it rained.  Those are my boots with the *mila's* umbrella.

The town came out to watch.  Most of us were female.

And Debbie revealed that her new CBC show "All For One" was filming an important episode in Huntsville.  A local hero who had volunteered much of her time was having her house renovated and it was up to the community of Huntsville to come out and help.  Be sure to watch.  You might someone you know. 
(Hint: Ruth Cassie; mila; willowofthewood)

No summer would be complete without a swim at the beach.

Hutcheson Beach that is.

And in a flash, the summer was over.  The rain came on strong and long.  School began and Grade 1 is a huge milestone in our house.

xx

signed, the willow

So, I've been blogging for over three years...

And someone STEALS my name!

Just to clarify right here and now "Willow of the Wood" has been my blogging name since February 2007 and I reserve the right to use this name.  If your name is Eleanor, June, Mary-Lou Who and you choose to use the name Willow, go ahead.  But please please please, don't go and call your blog "Willow of the Wood" as someone is already using it!

My parents blessed me at birth with the name Willow.  Since my last name was Atwood and we lived in what most would consider to be "the bush", the name began to evolve.  My whole life was spent despising the name Willow.


Here I am here practicing my blogging capabilities with my BFF Sharon.  Oh, and Colin & Justin were coming over to decorate later.

























Other times my parents would dress my brother and I up in matching navy outfits and take us outside and call us tree names to see if we would respond:  WILLOW!  BIRCH!  TAMARACK!

oh and they didn't cut the grass before the shot.


But the truth of the matter is this:  Willow is my middle name.  Atwood literally means "of the Wood".  So, there you have it.  And if you take that one step further and delve deep into my family tree you will find Robin Hood and the other merry men.  As Wode (or Wood) would have been pronounced "Hood" and Robin was "of the Hood".  A history lesson all rolled into my blog post for the day!

Enjoy your long weekend CANADA!

signed, the willow

As Shallow as a Wading Pool

Tonight as I opened up my mail I began my usual "feeling sorry for myself" hour of the night.  Until I opened up my birthday card from my mother. 

So, yes Mom, I received your great card and your wonderful gift.

Now to describe my hour of self-wallowing.  I sat there and began to day dream about the countertop, sink and tap that I would "need" in my bathroom to fit into my status symbol world.  I opened another bill and changed the address over the phone for this biller with a fellow in a third world country, where English was obviously rehearsed and not even a secondary language for him.  I was frustrated and not feeling the least bit sorry for someone who obviously worked in a boiler room.  There were voices in the background, they weren't happy voices.  And then I opened up my mother's card.  Inside she gave me the gift of giving to those less fortunate.  A health check up for 5 children and vitamins for a year for 5 children.  You too can help the hungry.....Food For the Hungry.  I promise to not feel sorry for myself because my sink and tap are not in vogue.  I promise to feel more for those who actually do need a sink with clean water flowing from it.  After all, avocado green isn't as bad as an infectious disease is it?

signed, the willow

As I was saying about the Swedes

This is where I want you to begin.  Forget about IKEA.  I had a momentary lapse as I struggled with packing, moving, real estate deals, lawyers, and yes even the FLU!  The other day, I was flipping through pages of pictures on desiretoinspire.  Yes, they are 2 very talented and creative women, one being Canadian. 

They had linked over to this blog Dos Family by two women that live 7 hours apart in Sweden named Isabelle and Jenny.  I love the Swedes again because they relate their distance from one another in time, a favourite pastime in Canada.  And so I began my journey of getting lost on the internet. 

I went here to mikodesign where blogger Erika blogged about her textile designs.  Ok, I don't believe that she's Swedish, but what do I know.  She has a daughter named *Mila*, so that makes her a wonderful thing.  And her textile designs are to die for.

Then I went to freshly found and found myself spot on in South Africa. 

Next I wandered into kids haus.

And next to one of my all time faves:  Skinny laMinx.  Faves because my Grampa called me Skinny MaLinx or Skinny LaMinx when I was a little girl.  And well, my Grampa is always looking out for me from above and I'd do anything to make him proud that I became that unique individual he said I would be.  Again, Skinny's not a Swede, but a South African.  Not that there is anything wrong with being a South African.

Because my mom, Lady of the Lake, and I are big paper fans:  Papier Mache magazine.  Now I've hopped over to Australia.

And lastly for today, some Aussie goodness, lmnop.  As simple as that.

signed, the willow

 

We did not buy the farm

But we bought a store.  Downtown Huntsville, Ontario.

Come and visit us really soon! 

We're busy with a big move and a change in lifestyle.  Must be something in the air in 2009, it seems as if we are all smitten with some new venture in our lives.  Be sure to stay tuned for the misadventures of Willow and her family.

signed, the willow xxxxxxx

It Hurts To Be Away From The Wild Things

On rainy days such as this, I like think and create and imagine.  Today *Mila* and I have been doing just that.  In between the mountain of phone calls and paperwork I have sitting inside of my wee brain, we've been tubing, "you tubing" that is.  I can't help but wonder about the new movie 'Where the Wild Things Are' and wonder what Maurice Sendak, author of the "Wild Things" book, is thinking to himself. 

There are a few creative imaginations in this world that I have carried forward from my childhood.  The imaginations that make you feel comforted in sadness and rain.  Mr. Sendak's creativity and imagination has carried my family through a very weak period. 

You see, we lost our own Wild Thing to Where the Wild Things Are.  He never sailed back.  As hard as that is, sometimes I can't help but wonder what our Wild Thing is up to with those yellow eyed monsters from the pages of Sendak's book.  I have a dog-eared copy that the Wild Thing's big brother gave me.  It was new when he gave it to me and we've loved and cherished that book just like we did 30 odd years ago.  *Mila* learned to read it as one of her first reads and I love the layout, the illustration and the emotion in the story.  It can be interpreted in so many ways by so many generations.  For us, the book has personal meaning, and I try to take the sadness away from the book each time I read it. 

While the movie is released into theatres today, my eyes are welled up with tears.  I can't bear to go to it and sit in a dark theatre with boxes of Kleenex.  I have to wait until it's released on DVD so I can watch my very own copy over and over and over. 

Thank you Spike Jonze for bringing this story to life.  I'm sure that you've done a wonderful, tasteful job and thank you and thanks to Maurice Sendak for the reminder.  The reminder to put our imaginations to work and share our vision with the world, no matter how crazy it may seem.  'Where the Wild Things Are' was a banned book.  To those 'diots who banned the book:  You Just Don't Get It!

Oh and for my brother's sake, "Trailer Park Boys:  Countdown To Liquor Day" opens tonight as well.

signed, the willow

Reno Steno

Keeping track of all the changes that need to be made in the house we bought is challenging.  So I decided to share it all here so I can personally keep track and look forward to your input.

First, picking a paint colour is never easy.  We want something fairly white, but we want to have white trim, so we do need a splash of colour.  We want to paint the whole house the same colour to begin.  It will be fresh, clean and create a new beginning.  Will it be 'gray horse'?  Will it be 'moonshine'?  Will it be 'ashwood'?

 

*Mila* and went to Rona and we daydreamed about this chandelier for her bedroom.

Tembec offers a few choices in flooring and I've narrowed it down to classic maple or clear maple.

When we decided to get these silver front loading washer and dryer, we expected to find a deep countertop to match the kitchen countertop and there begins that dilemma.

Yet another light fixture option for *Mila's* bedroom.

signed, the willow