plookster's posterous

Jan 20

Famous Failures | Psychology Today

When people speak of a "fear of failure," they are really describing a hazy free-floating malaise and feeling of worry or discontent which induces lethargy and explains lack of effort. This malaise protects us from the anxiety that comes with freedom and taking risks. We tranquilize our lives by limiting the amount of anxiety that we experience by not trying anything new or different that might fail.

Whenever we attempt to do something and fail, we end up doing something else or producing something else. You have not failed; you have produced some other result. The two most important questions to ask are: "What have I learned?" and "What have I done?"

Failure is only a word that human beings use to judge a given situation. Instead of fearing failure, we should learn that failures, mistakes and errors are the way we learn and the way we grow. Many of the world's greatest successes have learned how to fail their way to success. Some of the more famous are:

via psychologytoday.com

Coming from a family of late bloomers, this hits home. Perhaps we need to redefine "success." Learning ---> Growth!

Nov 17

BMW Repair: Using Noises for Troubleshooting Needed Repairs

Troubleshooting those weird noises coming from your BMW can help you determine needed repairs. It's important that you listen to what your car is trying to tell you.

Although many people still use the old broomstick-held-to-the-ear method of zeroing in on noises, the best method these days is a stethoscope. Indispensable in finding the source of a sound, it's also a lot easier to place it where you want it than the clunky end of a broomstick.

Here are a few general guidelines to what your BMW's noises might mean:

BANG: A sharp, startling sound, like a rifle shot, means you're dealing with the dreaded backfire. You'll probably be able to trace this to something that's causing a rich air/fuel mixture.

In the past you might have zeroed in on a heavy carb float, but today think about faulty signals from coolant temp or O₂sensors. The catalytic converter may also be damaged.

Another possibility is a clogged monolithic converter blowing through. This will only occur once and will be accompanied by an amazing increase in power. If your car has air injection, perhaps the diverter valve is no longer diverting.

BOOM: A hollow, low-frequency sound/sensation, this makes you feel as if you're riding inside a metal drum and the atmospheric pressure is rapidly changing between positive and negative.

On rear wheel-drive cars, check out the driveshaft and its u-joints because if it's spinning out-of-true, it will cause waves that push up on the floor of your car.

BUZZ: An annoying "bzzzzzzzzz" sound, like a trapped insect, can usually be traced to unfortunate positioning of interior trim parts. Have somebody else drive while you press, pry and pound on every likely spot.

CHIRP: This sounds like birds are nesting under your hood. You can probably blame a maladjusted or misaligned belt, but don't ignore the idler pulley. Or, it could just be your tires when you hit second gear.

CLANG or CLANK: This sound couldn't possibly be emitted by any light, flimsy parts. It's coming from a heavy, essential component, such as a set of gears. A good example is the sound a bad rear axle pinion bearing makes when you drop the transmission into Drive, then Reverse.

CLICK or CLACK: This sounds like 007 working the slide of his Beretta automatic. When in an engine, it's typically repeated rhythmically.

With OHV, perhaps a stuck lifter is allowing clearance in the pushrod/rocker valve, or maybe a solid lifter is just out of adjustment. On carbureted cars, check out the fuel pump before you start opening up the motor.

When emanating from the nether regions of the front end during a turn, this sound may be traced to an outboard CV joint.

CLUNK: A heavy bumping sound, softer than a clang, usually indicates you should look at suspension bushings, including shock or strut mounts. Or how about a loose strut gland nut?

FLAPPING: If it's not due to a colony of bats under the hood, maybe a belt's coming apart. Fan interference is another possibility. Regardless, this is a visual inspection sort of thing.

GRINDING: A horrible, torturous sound, like a bad dentist would make while working with obsolete equipment, means something's going awry - and fast.

If it occurs when the brakes are applied, either the linings are gone or you've got one of those unpleasantly-aggressive friction material formulas that tend to eat rotors.

GROAN: Something's dry, probably a suspension component. If it's metal, it's going to break really soon. If it's rubber, try some silicone lube.

GRUNT: Again, a dry joint somewhere in the underpinnings is likely. If it's in the stoppers, suspect rear drum shoes contaminated with brake fluid or gear lube from a defunct axle seal.

HISS: If it's continuous and changes with rpms, it may be normal belt noise. Otherwise, a slow leak in the cooling system is likely. A black light will help you find this.

HUM: We don't mean what the radio does between stations, but the noise a differential or wheel bearing makes. If it responds to acceleration/deceleration, suspect the differential. Then look into the bearings. Unfortunately, it's often very difficult to tell which side (or even which end) the hum's coming from.

KNOCK: Like knuckles on a wooden door, this sound is deep and hollow. Often it's a warning that something important (and expensive) is about to let go.

It's unfortunate that a loose pin sounds pretty much the same as a defunct rod bearing, but with a little patience you should be able to determine what's at fault.

First, check idle oil pressure even if you have to screw in a mechanical gauge. If it's low, you can bias your decision toward bearings.

Next, listen with your stethoscope. A rod bearing makes more noise at the oil pan than elsewhere, and a wrist pin more racket up on the water jacket. Hold RPMs at 2500, jerk the throttle open and let it snap closed. This will accentuate rod knock, whereas pin noise won't change very much.

Now's the time to starting shorting out cylinders. A bad pin will quiet down, but a rod knock will double its cadence.

Finally, you can pull the pan for a visual inspection. If the bearings are good, you know you've got a pin problem.

PING: Sort of like little ball bearings being poured on a tin roof, this sound is detonation (aka spark knock) - a phenomenon in which the air/fuel charge explodes violently instead of burning smoothly.

There are many potential causes here from clogged EGR passages and overheating to excessive spark advance and, with spark knock suppression, a defunct detonation sensor. Hook up your timing light then tap on the engine near the sensor to see if the spark retards.

POP: This sounds like a shotgun being fired through a mattress. It usually means the engine's coughing back through the intake.

A sticking or leaking valve is a distinct possibility, as is jumped valve timing, particularly with a belt-driven OHC.

Then there's ignition, which may be firing way too early due to a twisted distributor, cap/rotor/wire problems, a faulty position sensor or a breakdown in the module.

Also, if your BMW's running quite lean, opening the throttle to lots of cold air can induce this reaction.

RATTLE: They didn't coin the term "rattle trap" for nothing, you know. People have been fighting this annoying noise since the automobile was invented.

Thanks to plastics, better rubbers and more highly engineered fasteners, rattles are less prevalent than they once were. But you'll still get them, usually in the undercarriage somewhere. Likely culprits include exhaust system parts, calipers or loose brake pads.

ROAR: If it's not something obvious like a blown exhaust system, maybe the transmission is never shifting into high or overdrive.

With a manual transmission, the clutch might be slipping. Fan clutches usually fail by never engaging, not the opposite, but it's still a possibility.

If it's general road noise, you could switch to less aggressive tires or add undercoating to your BMW.

RUMBLE: While a pleasant enough throaty sound when it's from a free-flowing exhaust system, it can easily cross over into the unacceptable sound range. But don't choke the power down with an overly restrictive cheap muffler. For tire and road noise, see "ROAR".

SCRAPING: Something like "jeet-jeet-jeet-jeet" that speeds up as the car gathers speed probably means an object of one sort or another is contacting the driveshaft, possibly an exhaust shield or hanger or the parking brake cable. Your brake system, especially drum hardware, is also a distinct possibility.

SCREECH: "SQUEAL" taken to the max. See "SQUEAL".

SIZZLING: Like the sound of bacon frying, this is usually only audible with the engine off. Oil may be leaking onto the exhaust manifold or a minor coolant seepage may be occurring.

SQUEAL: This sound is usually related to brakes and belts. On the former, maybe you're down to the pad wear indicators. Or the discs and semi-metallic linings aren't getting along due to poor rotor finishing or washing, an assembly error, a troublesome friction formula or the like. Squealing is certainly common in disc brakes, but clunking can also occur on initial application if the shoes are loosely mounted.

In the case of belts, check if they are loose, worn or contaminated.

TAP: Much the same as a click, sort of like beating on the intake manifold with a screwdriver blade, this is usually valvetrain-related. Think about stuck lifters or an adjustment that provides too much lash.

WHINE: Not what an impatient 3-year old does but just as annoying. This is a hard one to pin down, but it's apt to come from worn ball or roller bearings, mismatched gears, too light a lube in a manual gearbox (ATF, maybe?) or alternator bushings getting ready to go.

WHIR: The sound made by happy mechanicals. It's one of the few noises you probably shouldn't worry about.

WHISTLE: Usually occurring at higher speeds, it's probably wind noise. But do double check if the latches and tumblehome are properly adjusted. Are the body gaskets in good shape?

via autohausaz.com

I shouldn't laugh but I found this article when trying to find the source of a strange noise. I'm known for my impressions of car parts at various dealerships in town. It's like it was written just for me.

Sep 21

Home Ec Revisited

Recently I read a New York Times article shared by Mairlyn Smith on Facebook that piqued my interest. It was about the need to revive Home Economics classes in schools to fight obesity and chronic disease. This sparked a discussion where some of us reminisced about our own experiences with Home Economics classes and teachers and brought back a flood of memories, good and bad!

If my Home Ec teachers had been anything like Mairlyn I would have enjoyed my experiences at school far more, but I did learn a lot and remember enjoying the classes immensely because it was something to which I could relate. We learned practical, hands-on skills that would last a lifetime. You can read more about Mairlyn at http://www.mairlynsmith.com/

I chatted with my own girls about our respective experiences, mine in Scotland and theirs here in Canada. Both of them took the Grade 9 Food & Nutrition option to satisfy their health credit and loved the class! They might have taken it again in later Grades but they needed to satisfy a slew of other credits and focus on University entrance.

In Scotland things were, and still are, quite different. In order to enter University you need to pass national exams at specific levels. Back in my day (or as my girls say "Back in the olden days of yesteryear, long long ago...") we sat Ordinary Grades and Higher Grades, commonly known as O Grades and Highers. We entered secondary school at age 12 and by age 14 we focused on key subjects we wanted to study for the O Grades which we then took at age 16. After O Grades we had 1 or 2 years to pass some Highers before leaving school with, hopefully, enough certificates.

I chose to pursue Home Economics as one of my options. By the time I took my O Grade at age 16 I'd had 4 whole years of instruction! Yes, I passed, for those of you who might doubt me, ha!

What did we learn in 4 years? Crikey, a lot! We learned the basics of nutrition and how it impacted one's health. We learned about vitamins, food groups, portion size, food handling, meal planning, how to cost out a meal, general cleanliness and much more. We also learned about sewing...yeah, glad I didn't have to take an exam in that.

When I entered Jordanhill School in Glasgow at age 12 the first thing we did in Home Economics class was to sew a yellow gingham apron which we would later use for "cookery" as we commonly called it. I was anxious to get going with cookery but we had to sew one more thing to satisfy course requirements - a skirt. A circular skirt to be precise. We would learn how to pin a pattern onto fabric, cut it out, make a waistband, insert a zipper and hem it. (It should be noted that no boys were allowed to take this class until age 14, and a couple of them did, but why wait?)

I did all of the above quite well all by myself because we'd had sewing class in primary school, but needed help with the hem. Our teacher, Mrs Taylor (appropriately enough!), had each of us in turn stand up on the demo table to get our hem pinned up. From that point we sewed it ourselves.

I wasn't quite ready to have my hem pinned up but she insisted on doing it, against her better judgement. It had been snowing and my shoes got a soaking the day before so I'd worn my ancient welly boots to school with regulation panty hose. They were strict with the uniform code! So I changed into my "gym shoes" for Home Ec and had to remove them before standing on the demo counter. In my defense my boots were well worn, poorly ventilated (rubber boots for goodness sake!) and nylons did nothing to enhance the aroma.

I must say, Mrs Taylor was a class act. She didn't say a word about how badly my feet reeked but even I could smell it and she was way closer to the action! Her face said it all...poor lady kept having to turn away and take a deep breath before coming back to work on my hem. Oh...and it got far worse. My sweaty feet had little or no traction on the counter top and, when I was told I could get down, I lost my footing completely and took Mrs Taylor down to the floor with a resounding thump. She never said a word except "Wipe the counter."

Shortly thereafter we started cookery. We learned how to make different types of pastry (shortcrust, flaky and even puff pastry). We baked cakes, scones, pies and shortbread, made soups and stews and learned how to work electric and gas ovens. We did have one unfortunate incident where the pilot light wasn't lit but the gas was turned on. After a few minutes of wondering why a pot wasn't coming to a boil there was an almighty bang, the oven flew open and we had to evacuate the classroom until it had been checked out by the janitor. For once, it had nothing to do with me.

Most of my culinary efforts turned out quite well. The scones were my only major flop (they turned out rubbery and we hurled them at boys on the way home from school, starting the infamous scone war of 1973 which resulted in one black eye, not mine). For each class we brought in a different amount of money to cover the cost of ingredients, carefully calculated by the teacher. It wasn't much, somewhere in the region of 20 to 60p each week.

We got to bring the food home and my Mum wondered why she never got to taste any of it. I should add that there were 4 teenagers in our family, so a peach pie was never likely to make it past the after-school hour. That being the case, I decided to surprise my Mum by making a batch of custard we'd learned to make earlier earlier at school. I don't know what I did wrong but it didn't go well just relying on memory. I couldn't remember the proportions so I called a couple of friends. Meantime the "custard" sat on the stove top as the conversation changed from custard to David Cassidy. When Mum got home she was presented with no less than 2 pints of burned custard. So - no, adding more milk was the wrong solution.

After 2 years we got moved into Miss Lennie's O Grade preparatory cookery class. Yikes. She was stern. I was a quiet kid, petrified of getting into trouble. I knew instantly I'd get into big trouble if I mis-spoke or, heaven forbid, she ever got a whiff of my feet so I was a model student. Well, almost.

We had to learn a lot of theory for our O Grade. On one particular in-class test we had to list 6 main points to consider when washing a pedal bin. 6? Oh good grief I knew I was in trouble. I remembered a few things such as hot soapy water, nooks and crannies and proper drying but I had to wing-it with #6 so I improvised with "Empty it first." (In my defense: today, after real-life experience, I can honestly say that a pedal bin has more nooks and crannies than a newborn baby, both of which should be emptied before bathing. I rest my case.) I simply stated that it was easier to wash when empty. Miss Lennie was livid and I was ordered to stand in the hall and think about what I had written. The shame, yikes! I had to write 100 lines, something to the effect of not being cheeky. It didn't help when I got yelled at and responded with "I wasn't trying to be cheeky, it just comes naturally."

However, Miss Lennie was of the generation that had come through some really hard post-war times. We learned how not to be wasteful, not just in reference to quantities we cooked but in how we prepared and cooked our food. We had one lesson dedicated to how to peel a potato, the point being to remove as thin a layer of the skin as possible to conserve nutrition. Even better, we learned, buy new potatoes that just need a light scrubbing or just bake it in its jacket. She came around to inspect our peelings for transparency and there were several "Tut tuts" as she eyed thick peelings here and there. We learned not to boil vegetables to death but instead to steam them, all important stuff and we knew it.

Although Miss Lennie was strict she had a seldom-seen sense of humour. She gathered the class around the demo table to witness the preparation of fresh fruit salad. We were not going to make our own because she deemed it unnecesssary, but we had to sit and watch the painstaking process of minimalistic peeling and preventive discolouration for a good hour. When she came to the oranges she said we had to remove the pith (cue: stifled childish giggling) because "The pith ith very thour." Well, I glanced over at Barbara Irivne and Alison Hunter, caught their eye and dissolved into a fit of the giggles. Even Miss Lennie realised what she'd said and had to leave the room, straight faced. She let us laugh our bums off for a good 15 minutes - we were in hysterics! When she returned we thought we'd be in big trouble but she didn't say a word. She was red faced, her eyes were wet (from laughing, we later heard via Mrs Taylor) and just continued without speaking further.

As our O Grade exam drew closer we were each given a specific food item that we were to cook in class under the supervision of someone from the national exam board. Scary stuff! I opened my envelope to reveal my destiny...a Scotch Egg. Eh? What on earth was a Scotch Egg? Apparently I was one of the few in the class who had no idea. I'd never seen one, let alone eaten one, in my entire life! I went home, told my Mum and she took me shopping. We bought one, brought it home, dissected and ate it. It was weird, and I had to replicate one...in class...for my exam? Eeeek!

(A Scotch Egg is a hardboiled egg, wrapped in sausage meat, coated in breadcrumbs and deepfried. Why? I don't know, but someone somewhere must eat them.)

I had to not only cook one of these beasts for my exam but had to come up with a dessert to follow, create a "Plan of Work" where I itemised, minute by minute, each step I would follow on exam day, and also costed the whole lot out. I listed calories, serving size, nutritional breakdown, all of which I successfully did without having a nervous breakdown. We had maybe a month to practice, become intimately acquainted with the recipes, then a 3 hr session in class with no help. Miss Lennie did stand nervously on the sidelines with a wet dish towel in case of fat fire. Wise woman ;)

I chose to make a tart to demonstrate my pastry skills (ha!), bloomin' show-off. Nonetheless I somehow recreated that darned Scotch Egg (my first time deep frying too!) and invented a peach melba tart that was a big hit with the examiner. I blind-baked a pastry shell I'd made from scratch (of course), put a layer of raspberry jam in the bottom of it and arranged sliced canned peaches on top of that, then glazed it with marmalade I'd warmed up and seived to remove any rind (pith too, haha!). I didn't get to taste any of it but the examiner winked her approval my way and ate a whole slice. I passed the exam despite the artery hardening combo of deep fried egg & sausage and heavy tart (not me, the dessert).

Having also passed the written exam, there endeth my 4 yrs of Home Ec. Despite some misadventures I loved that class and learned a lot by age 16!

I do wish kids had the chance to acquire this valuable knowledge at a young enough age because it will last them a lifetime. I know I've struggled with my weight over the years but I've always tried to make healthy choices overall. I just eat a wee bit too much now and then!

My own kids prefer to have a home cooked meal rather than takeouts because they feel "blah" if we do that too often. From a young age they've participated in meal planning and enjoyed their fruit and vegetables. To this day they'd rather take their own lunch to High School and University and include whole grain bread and a piece or two of fresh seasonal fruit because they want to, not because I make them. That's the thing I'm most proud of - that they WANT to, and they know a good choice when they see it. The choice is going to be entirely theirs for the rest of their lives so I'm glad they were taught young. It comes naturally to them.

I know my own kids had an advantage because I taught them much of this myself as a stay-at-home Mum. What about the others, the ones who don't have even a basic Food and Nutrition class their entire lives? Many of them will pay for it later with diabetes, heart disease and who knows what else. I think we should at least give them a fighting chance by teaching them well at an early age. Besides, it's a FUN class to take, disasters and all!

I've attached a couple of photos - one is of me at age 12 when I first started Jordanhill School and began my 4 yr Home Ec adventure. The other is when I went back to Scotland in 2007 and revisited my old school. Memories, aah ;)

(download)

Sep 11

From A Child's Perspective

My daughter was 7 when she wrote this in her Thought Journal at school shortly after the events of 9/11.

May 11

Viewing Art Is Like Being In Love

http://www.artfund.org/news/1142/museums-and-galleries-good-for-your-health-a...

I'm drawn to galleries and artwork anywhere I go; I find it calming. Interesting article.

Apr 15

It's Someone Else's Turn

This was my parents' home in Glasgow, Scotland. The Kerr family moved in on September 1st 1966 and another family took ownership on April 8 2011. End of an era for us, a bit of a wrench to say the least, but a house is meant to be lived in and to be loved. And oh how this house was loved...our parents provided us one heck of a home!

Our time spent in this home was made up of many things - generally happy, sometimes sad, occasionally crazy but always stable. It's what we strive to pass on to our own kids - a sense of home where you can always be yourself, sometimes just let your emotions rip when you need to and know that you will be loved unconditionally for doing so.

We had many family photos taken over the years on the porch at good old "122" but none more poingnant than the one below. It was taken the last time all the Kerrs got together on the occasion of our parents' 50th wedding anniversary. One hour after this was taken I left to return to Canada. I never saw my father again. I'm glad that this day was such a fun one and that the last picture of the whole gang was taken on a high note; I will treasure it always.

It is now someone else's turn to take this house, make it their home and build their own memories. I hope they will be as blessed as we were.

Dec 17

Kindness

I've been reflecting on the past year's happenings, weighing the good versus the bad, taking stock of the sheer number of things that can happen in the course of 365 days to us and to loved ones. I realised that the moments of kindness shown to us in good times and sad were the ones that had the most impact on me.

To include something as basic as a little kindness in our interaction with others is neither too hard to do nor too much to ask. I'm not talking about just at this time of year but all through the year. How many interactions do we have in a day, a month, a year...a lifetime? Think about it, add a little kindness and it's mind boggling just how much it can add up!

I've noticed in recent days, while doing some Christmas shopping and running errands, that many people scratch the social graces off their to-do lists as they dash around in a panic to get things accomplished. Tempers flare and people can be downright rude at times. However, kindness is not so much a social grace as it is a right of any living being. Empathy or compassion should be right up there on the list of basic rights alongside personal safety and freedom of speech.

How we treat others in the course of a typical day can profoundly impact their mood, the rest of their day and that of those around them. It has a ripple effect - a kind word or gesture that makes someone smile can defuse a bad mood and subsequently diffuse a more positive mood to those with whom they in turn interact for the rest of the day. Defuse, diffuse, confused? Ha!

When I get a call from one of those far flung call centres asking me if I'm interested in buying new windows, doors or getting my ducts cleaned it can be annoying. However, I'm also aware that the person on the other end of the line, who's often speaking in broken English, is probably being paid a pittance, is working long hours and is frequently on the receiving end of rude and abrupt remarks. No, I'm not interested in their services, but I always take the time to listen and politely decline in a non-offensive manner. They are just doing their job. Occasionally the caller thanks me for being kind. I don't do it for the thanks - that's the wrong reason for doing anything! I do it because they deserve it.

Taking the time to say "Hi" to a neighbour, to call a friend, to exchange some banter with the cashier at the grocery store, thank the kid who bags my groceries and just have a friendly demeanour can really lift not only their mood but mine too. Makes certain tasks less humdrum for all!

I take a bit of snarkiness from the kids at times (not all the time!) when I know they've had a rough day; they're often under a lot of pressure. I listen to them, let them vent, don't take it personally and maybe even make them a cup of tea and the mood changes. Sometimes they even thank me for putting up with their hissy fits. Just a little kindness, enough to take the edge off, peace ensues, most of the time.

I even extend the kindness to my little twin kitties Jack and Alice (pictured below). How are they to know they're not allowed to jump on counters or claw the carpet when we buy them a 4 ft tall carpeted kitty condo and put it in the kitchen? They don't know the darn difference! Time, patience, forgiveness and more than a little kindness and they'll get the message, hopefully before further ruining the stair carpet or leaping onto a hot stove top. The thing is, nothing much scares them, not even the sight of me running at them in my nightie to shoo them off the table. They are so very trusting; it's humbling to run at them with a squirt bottle and see them with a look in their eyes that says "Mummy's coming, yay!" Yeah, they get away with a lot ;)

On the topic of the cats, there is something remarkable about them, especially Jack. He looks out for his sister, makes sure she gets first dibs on the food in the morning and often when they snuggle up together he puts a protective arm around her. He's a kind boy. I do believe animals have the ability to show kindness.

I took a photo of the cats snuggled up on top of the TV with my iPhone. It turned out dark and grainy but I wanted to capture the moment. I posted it on Facebook regardless and within a very short time I received an email from my friend Kay with the photo below attached. Kay works magic with photos, she's amazing, but she did this not just because she could. She did this, completely unsolicited, because she's so very kind. This touched me.

Just this morning Kay and I were chatting and she said "You are very kind." I had planned to write something about kindness as a year-end post because, by coincidence, the cats have their first birthday on January 1st. However, Kay's words inspired me to write it sooner rather than later. We have two more weeks of this year in which to show kindness in so many ways. Think of how many people we can impact with just a little kindness even before the start of the new year!

Wishing you all joy, peace, health and kindness now and for the coming year!

Oct 26

Trick...or what? The Evolution of Plookster's Halloween.

The attached photo is of my kids, years ago, trying to look appropriately scary for Halloween. Effective? Kinda, but mostly cute.

Halloween has evolved greatly for me in my lifetime. Back in Scotland things were so different in the 60s and 70s. Coming to North America I had heard of "Trick or Treat" but was surprised how huge a deal it is here!

A typical Glasgow Halloween of my childhood involved dressing up in home made costumes, perhaps with a store bought mask, and knocking on a few doors as we went "guising" around the neighbourhood. "Guising" involved donning a disguise/costume but we had to perform in order to get a treat. That could be anything from telling a joke to singing a song, and the treat we received was typically a handful of peanuts in the shell (a.k.a. monkey nuts) or, if you struck gold, a piece of fruit. Yes, really, and we were more than happy with that!

After hitting up our neighbours for a small bag of fruit and nuts we made our way over to church for the highlight of our Halloween, the church party! Our church had a small but tight group of about 12 kids who attended everything, and on Halloween we brought other friends from school and around the neighbourhood and had a high old time, the focus of which was the series of good old fashioned party games! We bobbed for apples, pinned the tail on the sheep (hey, it was Scotland after all), played musical chairs, pass the parcel, and dropped clothes pegs into a milk bottle from our teeth.

There was one game we played only at the end because it made a mess - we had to eat scones that had been dipped in treacle and tied to a piece of rope by a string. There was one for everyone, so it was a long rope with drippy scones and hungry kids trying to see who could eat theirs first. I didn't particularly care for the taste of treacle but there was no stopping me when there was the lure of a freshly bakes scone courtesy of Mrs McGregor when you got past the treacle. Oh my.....was it ever worth the sticky mess! Yes, I won it a couple of times. There was no prize, just glory and bragging rights, totally worth it!

Costumes were usually home made. My brothers liked to buy masks at the newspaper shop and go as monsters or robots. I typically wore an old frock, some chunky beads and went as an old lady with lipstick smudged around my mouth and on my teeth. If I was stuck for ideas I wore my school uniform with skirt hiked up, school tie loosely fastened, hair in pigtails and went as a St Trinian schoolgirl (from old British movies of same name). We didn't spend a lot of money on costumes, that was too extravagant and they weren't readily available like they are now. That forced us to be more creative, but to my mind the best costume any kid ever came up with at our church was "Pig in a Poke." A "poke" is a paper bag, and the expression means "Don't buy anything sight unseen." Well, the kid next door wrapped himself up in brown paper and donned a home made pig mask. The nose of the mask was cut from a cardboard egg carton. Really simple, creative, and we talked about that for some time after. That's the kind of stuff I like to this day - the quirky home made stuff born from a good idea and made with a smirk.

In my early 20s I moved to rural Connecticut where I found out what Trick or Treat was all about. At first it seemed odd to me that kids could knock on the door, ask for and receive candy, and not have to perform for it. I quickly got over that and got into the spirit of things, handing out chocolate bars which, by that time, were often requested to be nut-free due to allergies. What happened to the "take what you're given" mindset from years before? Allergies? The Scots would have said "tough luck Jimmy" if you turned your nose up at something that was free. Spoiled, yes, that's what they would have said, but I got into it whole-heartedly and had fun greeting loads of little kids at the door and seeing their faces light up at being given yummy treats.

Moving to Canada in 1990 I was, by then, well accustomed to the Halloween ritual. It was fun to see kids at our door and I had to laugh when my Mum was visiting from Glasgow in '92 and experienced her first ever North American Halloween. I was busy holding the baby so she opened the door. I'd explained that the kids would each receive candy (not nuts or fruit!) but had to step in to rescue Mum from the confused kids who were greeted by a lady with a softly lilting Scottish accent asking them to do a "wee turn" before receiving their treat. Oh gawd how we laughed about that one - the mystified faces of both kiddies and parents! Mum really didn't know, but quickly got into it herself. She LOVED it!

My kids always enjoyed going trick or treating and I had fun taking them shopping for costumes. I'm not that crafty or I would have made some, but they wanted what their friends had so we went with that. We've had them dressed up as many things, from princesses to Barney the dinosaur with many witches, devils and angels in between. My younger daughter wanted to be the Philadelphia cream cheese angel one year so I did make a halo that was supposed to look like a bagel but in fact looked more like a turd. It was too heavy and kept thumping her on the head. I tried. Most successful though (I'm not completely useless) was when my oldest wanted to be Rapunzel. She had very light blonde hair so I tied it back in a braid and attached a huge braid made from 3 pairs of light coloured panty hose. It worked!

I did feel bad for my younger daughter when she went trick or treating for what became the last time. She was only 12, but we make 'em tall here. She was dressed up as Cruella Deville, wearing heels & lipstick with her costume, and she was met with "Aren't you too old to be out doing this?" Bah humbug! With heels on she was 6' tall, poor kid. She didn't want to go out the following year, but geez, 12 is NOT too old to go trick or treating!

As my kids entered high school both had already stopped trick or treating and would either go to a dance at school or hang out at with friends at someone's home and hand out candy. This year they're handing out candy at our door. My older daughter might wear her Star Trek dress with knee high boots. She looks fabulous in it (I refuse to say HOT!) but let's just say I'm glad I'll know where she is!

To this day I will give anyone in costume, from the little tots to surly teenagers dressed in a hockey shirt in lieu of a costume, a treat at my door. If anyone takes the time and makes any effort whatsoever, they win me over. Heck I've been known to give some to the parents too, why not?

Yes, things have changed over the years. Halloween has become quite the industry over here but also back in the UK. At the heart of it though is that kids are having fun and I'm always up for that!

Sep 23

Brain Foods That Fight Alzheimer's | The Dr. Oz Show

via doctoroz.com

This disease terrifies me. I've seen what it did to my grandmother and what it is now doing to my mother. Doing what I can to take care of my mind and body now might just pay off later. We'll see.

Sep 19

Pushing The Limits

Last week as I drove my younger daughter to her first night's practice with the regional youth symphony orchestra there was palpable tension in the car. I knew she was excited and anxious but I got my head bitten off for saying "Have fun!" as I dropped her off. "MOTHER!" OK, Uncool, I got it. Gosh she was nervous!

She has only been playing flute for two years but already wants to make it her career. Her experience has been limited thus far to a couple of years playing in the school band. She's good, really good. She won the school's music award for her grade level and her teacher told her that no matter what she chose to do in life she must never stop playing flute. He suggested she audition for the youth orchestra and, while she was thrilled that she got in, she was worried that all this time she had merely been a big fish in a small pond and would have a very rude awakening when playing with a vastly more experienced group.

When I returned a couple of hours later I was really worried about what mood she might be in. I didn't want to see her disappointed although that's just one of those life experiences we all have from time to time. She emerged head down, flute in hand and got into the car.

"I barely know anyone...I've never played music at that level and we're expected to play new stuff right there on the spot. I've got the least experience of anyone there, this will take hours of practice every day...and I cannot wait...this is exactly what I need to progress to the next level and I am going to love it!

Yes I was definitely relieved but also blown away by her maturity and attitude. She has come a long way from the shy kid she was in elementary school where she never wanted to stand out in the crowd; hard to do when you're 5'11" (and a bit) tall! This will be a huge challenge but she's up for it.

It certainly made me think. Someone once said that you may be on the right road but you'll never get there if you stand still. Makes perfect sense to me. Then there's the comfort zone inside of which we feel safe and less anxious but complacent.

Complacent, yes, that's me right now. My days are very full but much of what I do is repetitive - household chores, driving the kids around, long days of the same stuff over and over again. It might sound daft but I do enjoy it. This is exactly what I want to be doing right now. I've always wanted a family and I've been fortunate to have the choice to be able to stay home with the kids. It's safe. Hmmm.

Don't get me wrong, safe is a good thing. I am reminded of a neighbour of mine back in Glasgow. He worked the same job for 30 years, just went back and forth to work each day to make a living, but didn't venture outside of home otherwise. He had 4 kids but you never saw him around much. It was always his wife who took the kids places, it was she who learned to drive. He felt safer on the bus and admitted to being a little agoraphobic. He stuck with what he knew to feel safe and home was everything to him. Ironically last year he fell down the stairs at home, broke his neck and died. The familiar does not necessarily make one safe.

I'm not talking about taking big risks and doing something dangerous. Stepping outside my comfort zone could be as simple as choosing to react differently to something or someone; it could be trying a new activity, volunteering (which I used to do, a lot) or going back into the work force. I haven't decided on anything yet. Perhaps it's time to scratch something off my bucket list; some people are surprised that I do have one. In turn I am shocked that they are surprised, huh!

What has been on my mind is that one day the kids won't need me in the same way as they do now. It made me wonder what I will do then, what will be left of me. While I am happy I feel that I have allowed myself to stand still while others around me move forward. I know I will be looking to explore some other avenues one of these days but if I start working on me now I will remain happy in the future. I confess that part of me is worried that if I do not continue to grow I will become boring, eek.

Unless we push our own limits, try new things we just stand still. We stop growing. A little anxiety can help us to focus and perform better at anything we put our mind to. We can learn from failure. Who says we're going to fail? Ha! Someone did once say that if you don't try you've already failed. Ouch.

Once in a while as I dust off some academic awards I earned at University many moons ago I catch myself saying "I used to be somebody." I still am, I just need to rev things up a bit. I will not stand still any longer, I need to push my own limits and I cannot wait. I will love it!

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