Well, I think this is the first New Year's Day in recent memory that I awoke with a clear head and not even the faintest hint of a hangover. On one hand, that means we didn't have a wild and crazy party last night, but on the other, I believe it is a fitting start to a year where my primary objective is to be a healthier, happier, fitter and more productive version of myself. I made some changes in 2010 that started me on the right path, but this year is the time to "kick things up a notch" so to speak.
In my Christmas stocking this year, I found a copy of Chatelaine Magazine. One of the cover stories immediately caught my eye - "Change Your Life in 30 Days - A Step by Step Guide to Finding Real Balance and Boosting Your Health" Well, Santa must be a lot smarter than I give him credit for - this is exactly what I need! (Although, Santa was sending some mixed messages, as the cover of the magazine features a positively scrumptious looking chocolate cupcake - the very thing I am trying to AVOID in 2011, but his heart was in the right place).
I flipped to the article and noticed that it was a "to-do" list, of sorts. There were 30 items, all small and relatively easy to accomplish, and the goal was to do one item each day for a month. Hmmmmmmm......I think I can do that! I didn't finish reading the list (better to keep most items as a surprise!), but I thought it would make for a good experiment for the month of January. Every day, I will complete one of the items on the list and blog about it. At the end of the month we will see if my life has "changed" as the magazine promises it will.
Most experts say it takes 30 days to form a habit (some say 21, but let's not be nit-picky). My secondary goal with this little experiment is that it will force me to write something every day. As many of you know, 2011 is "The Year of the Book" for me. By starting the year building a "writing habit", I should be on the right path to making some real headway with my future novel.
Now, for my first "to-do" item:
"Aim for 80% of today's food intake to be fresh, real and unprocessed. Avoid any canned, frozen, pre-cooked or pre-packaged fare." *
Sounds easy enough, right? In our house, we very rarely eat anything that is pre-packaged or frozen (thanks to my Executive Chef and Partner in Crime). However, when I am out and about and working, I have a horrible habit of grabbing whatever is easy, fast and can be eaten in the car. If you actually sit down and take a look at the nutritional value of what I eat when I am away from home, it is truly appalling. This is one issue that definitely needs to be addressed - not only on Day 1 of my experiment, but every day going forward.
I'm off to a good start so far - just oatmeal for breakfast! I'm heading out to Square One shortly for a little new year shopping (thankfully item #1 on my list wasn't "cut up your credit cards". That would have stung a bit). The real test will be passing by all that food-court fast food crap in the mall. Good thing they say willpower is always strongest on day one of any new challenge!
"We spend January 1 walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives, not looking for flaws, but for potential" - Ellen Goodman
Wishing all of you the very best for 2011! Make it count.
J :)
* Source: Chatelaine Magazine, January 2011 Issue.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Remember the Fallen
Of course, with today being Remembrance Day, it's right up there with Super Bowl Sunday for good quality TV programming. I was just watching a documentary on the Military Channel about the last days of World War I and I learned something that I didn't know about the war. To me, war has always seemed a completely senseless and tragic method of "conflict resolution", but this particular show really hammered that point home.
For some reason, I was not aware that the Armistice that was to mark the end of WWI was signed at 5am on November 11, 1918. The cease fire did not come into effect until 6 long hours later - the battle continued and some 2700 soldiers needlessly lost their lives. Private George Lawrence Price, a 25 year old farm labourer, was the last Canadian Soldier (and likely the last of the Allied forces) to fall - at 10:58, a mere two minutes before the declaration of peace in the "war to end all wars". Private Price, along with more than 2700 other soldiers, gave the ultimate sacrifice that day in a war that was, for all intents and purposes, already over. The tragedy of this story is overwhelming.
It is widely believed that the number of soldiers that died during those final 6 hours is actually significantly higher than recorded. The French government is reported to have altered the death records of their soldiers that fell on that day to avoid the inevitable backlash and public outcry that was to come when it was learned their loved ones had died needlessly after the Armistice had been signed. The dates of death were engraved "November 10th" on those military headstones, lest they have to answer any questions about the inexplicable 6 hour "peace delay".
Today I attended a Remembrance Day ceremony at my kids' school. The entire service - the readings, songs, poems and pictures - was put together by the Grade 6 students. It was a beautiful and moving ceremony which left many of the attendees, myself included, reaching for the kleenex. Thinking back to my own school days, I don't recall any special Remembrance Day celebrations, other than the obligatory minute of silence at 11am. I am happy to see that the school board is trying to instill in our children an appreciation for the sacrifices that many have made to ensure their freedom (in spite of the inexplicable fact that our provincial government does not deem today important enough to warrant a Statutory Holiday......but that's another blog post all together).
So, today we remember the fallen, those who came home and those still fighting today. Thank you for all you have done and all you continue to do. Thank you for making the ultimate sacrifice so that my children can proudly live in a country that is strong and free. Simply, humbly, thank you.
J
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
MH + JM = 2gether 4ever!
On October 26, 2002, in a gorgeous Milton Country Club, Marc Halter married Jennifer Meaney in a beautiful ceremony surrounded by 88 of their closest family and friends. The groom wore a rented tux and the bride was lovely in an ivory gown, sans designer label, off the 50% discount rack. They danced to a song written and performed by their best man and drank a martini the size of a small country. A good time was had by all.
I may be a little biased, but I still think that our wedding was one of the best I have ever been to. Happy 8th Anniversary, Babe!
Eight years may not seem like a long time to many, but in today's age of the "disposable marriage", 8 years is practically a lifetime. I heard a story on the radio the other day about yet another celebrity marriage that has fallen apart. The couple had been married for nearly 5 years and have a 2 year old son. The reason they cited for their divorce?? "We are more like best friends than a married couple". Ummmmm....hello..... if you have been married for 5 years, have a toddler monopolizing your every waking minute and you are still "best friends", I'd call that a pretty good marriage. Wouldn't you? All of the great married couples that I know, Marc and I included, really are friends first. You kind of have to be. You can have all the passion and spark in the world, but if at the end of the day you don't really LIKE each other, what on earth is the point?
I think Marc and I are in the minority when I say that our parents (both sets) are still married - and happy! My in-laws have been married 42 years, my parents 37. I'm sure their secret to a long and happy relationship isn't endless passion, romantic strolls on the beach and arguing over which one loves the other more. I'm thinking their "secret" is a mutual love, respect and, above all, friendship first. If genetics has anything to do with it, I'd say we have a pretty good shot at making it!
I do believe Marc and I will go the distance, not just because it is our anniversary and I am supposed to say that. Are we that perfect couple that never argues and just can't get enough of each other? Of course not. We scrap it out just like everyone else. Above it all, however, we have a friendship and mutual respect for each other that has only gotten stronger through life's ups and downs. We are each other's biggest fans. We support each other's wacky ideas (mostly mine), tolerate each other's crazy moods (again, mostly mine) and ignore each other's annoying habits (Mostly his. All of my habits are adorable.) We give each other a good swift kick in the ass when necessary. Plus, he cooks AND cleans. Let's face it, I'd be nuts to walk away from that!
I guess the bottom line is this: these days, it seems that a lot of couples head for the hills at the first sign of trouble or, in many cases, boredom. I'm not saying that there aren't valid reasons that many marriages fail - of course there are. Sometimes you just marry the wrong person. It happens. However, I do think a lot of people forget what marriage really is all about. I think if after juggling a mortgage, bills, jobs, several children, the crazy schedules of said children and family (yours AND the in-laws) the WORST thing you can say about your marriage is "we're more like best friends", then you're doing ok. In fact, you're doing better than ok. When all is said and done, it is the friendship that will take you the distance. After all, when you're both 85 (well, I'll only be 81....) and the passion of your youth is all but gone, it is that same friendship that will ensure that you've still got something to talk about.
Thanks for being my best friend, Sparky. Happy Anniversary!!!! I Love you !!!!
Puddles xoxox
I may be a little biased, but I still think that our wedding was one of the best I have ever been to. Happy 8th Anniversary, Babe!
Eight years may not seem like a long time to many, but in today's age of the "disposable marriage", 8 years is practically a lifetime. I heard a story on the radio the other day about yet another celebrity marriage that has fallen apart. The couple had been married for nearly 5 years and have a 2 year old son. The reason they cited for their divorce?? "We are more like best friends than a married couple". Ummmmm....hello..... if you have been married for 5 years, have a toddler monopolizing your every waking minute and you are still "best friends", I'd call that a pretty good marriage. Wouldn't you? All of the great married couples that I know, Marc and I included, really are friends first. You kind of have to be. You can have all the passion and spark in the world, but if at the end of the day you don't really LIKE each other, what on earth is the point?
I think Marc and I are in the minority when I say that our parents (both sets) are still married - and happy! My in-laws have been married 42 years, my parents 37. I'm sure their secret to a long and happy relationship isn't endless passion, romantic strolls on the beach and arguing over which one loves the other more. I'm thinking their "secret" is a mutual love, respect and, above all, friendship first. If genetics has anything to do with it, I'd say we have a pretty good shot at making it!
I do believe Marc and I will go the distance, not just because it is our anniversary and I am supposed to say that. Are we that perfect couple that never argues and just can't get enough of each other? Of course not. We scrap it out just like everyone else. Above it all, however, we have a friendship and mutual respect for each other that has only gotten stronger through life's ups and downs. We are each other's biggest fans. We support each other's wacky ideas (mostly mine), tolerate each other's crazy moods (again, mostly mine) and ignore each other's annoying habits (Mostly his. All of my habits are adorable.) We give each other a good swift kick in the ass when necessary. Plus, he cooks AND cleans. Let's face it, I'd be nuts to walk away from that!
I guess the bottom line is this: these days, it seems that a lot of couples head for the hills at the first sign of trouble or, in many cases, boredom. I'm not saying that there aren't valid reasons that many marriages fail - of course there are. Sometimes you just marry the wrong person. It happens. However, I do think a lot of people forget what marriage really is all about. I think if after juggling a mortgage, bills, jobs, several children, the crazy schedules of said children and family (yours AND the in-laws) the WORST thing you can say about your marriage is "we're more like best friends", then you're doing ok. In fact, you're doing better than ok. When all is said and done, it is the friendship that will take you the distance. After all, when you're both 85 (well, I'll only be 81....) and the passion of your youth is all but gone, it is that same friendship that will ensure that you've still got something to talk about.
Thanks for being my best friend, Sparky. Happy Anniversary!!!! I Love you !!!!
Puddles xoxox
Thursday, October 21, 2010
If you write it, will they read?
It's official. I have developed an obsession. Surprisingly, it's not an obsession that I could have seen coming - like chocolate, shoes or that cute werewolf kid from the twilight movies (sadly, I'm a little old for that one!) For the past several months something has been consuming me - filling my mind during quiet daytime moments and keeping me from falling asleep at night. I often find my thoughts wandering back to my obsession during conversations with family, friends and colleagues, hoping they don't notice the vacant expression on my face as they talk. I have been filling journals with notes and scribbles about how to make this obsession of mine a reality. Now I think the time has come to face this obsession head on. The first step to dealing with it, is admitting it, right? Here goes. My name is Jennifer and I am obsessed with wanting to write a book.
Whew! That wasn't so hard, was it? Actually, it kind of was. I am not sure why I have been struggling with this so much. It's something that has been on my "bucket list" for years so why is it NOW so difficult for me to say out loud? Furthermore, why is it so hard for me to actually DO IT?
I wrote a lot when I was younger. I was a shy kid that could barely look people in the eye when I spoke. Writing was cathartic for me, a way for me to get my thoughts and feelings out that didn't involve having to actually talk to someone. In school, if given the choice of writing a ten thousand word essay or giving a 5 minute oral presentation, I would choose the essay every time. I have a box in my basement filled with old journals, diaries, letters and short stories written during elementary and high school. Even now, I would prefer to take the time to send an email or text message to someone rather than pick up the phone and call. I am somehow better at getting my point across with the written (rather than spoken) word.
Why, then, is the concept of writing on a bigger scale so terrifying? I am guessing confidence has a lot to do with it. "Jennifer Halter" and "self confidence" are two things that you will never hear in the same sentence. Unless, of course, that sentence is "Jennifer Halter has no self confidence". It is scary to think about putting your heart and soul into something that no one might ever want to read. I confided to a friend the other day that I had finally "written" the opening chapter of my future novel in my head, but was unable to actually write it down. I told her that the thought of finally putting proverbial pen to paper was intimidating. What if no one cared what I had to say? Her reply was "Write your story for YOU, and no one else. Even if you are the only one who ever reads it, you will still have written your novel." I realized, she was right.
There has been a story inside me for quite some time now. Until recently, it had been pretty well behaved, quietly rolling around in my head and not ruffling any feathers. Poking its head out every now and then, just to let me know it was still there. For the past several months the story has felt like a caged animal - loud and impossible to ignore, viciously pounding on the cage and demanding to be let out. There is rarely a waking hour that goes by where I don't hear a character "speaking" to me in my head. I had to resort to carrying a journal around with me everywhere to make sure these voices don't get lost in my increasingly feeble memory bank. I know that taking the first step will be the hardest - actually writing that first chapter.
I did, however, finally take an important step in the writing process yesterday. I ordered some books from the library to begin the research process. I have also been following an author online for many years now. He writes a daily blog and a monthly e-newsletter that are entirely devoted to "Novel Writing for Dummies". Recently, I have been devouring his blog and newsletter archives, where I had previously only regarded them as something to file away for that far off day in the future when I would begin to take this novel seriously.
Believe it or not, this blog post is actually a significant preliminary step in the process as well - actually admitting, out loud in a public forum, that this is something I want to do. Not worrying about whether or not people will mock, doubt or discourage me. I have no idea how long this process will take, or even whether or not anything print worthy will come out of it in the end, but I do know this: When my days in this life are drawing to a close, it is unlikely that I will regret having written a novel that wasn't a best seller (maybe didn't even get published). I would be more likely to regret having never written my story at all.
Play ball!
J :)
Whew! That wasn't so hard, was it? Actually, it kind of was. I am not sure why I have been struggling with this so much. It's something that has been on my "bucket list" for years so why is it NOW so difficult for me to say out loud? Furthermore, why is it so hard for me to actually DO IT?
I wrote a lot when I was younger. I was a shy kid that could barely look people in the eye when I spoke. Writing was cathartic for me, a way for me to get my thoughts and feelings out that didn't involve having to actually talk to someone. In school, if given the choice of writing a ten thousand word essay or giving a 5 minute oral presentation, I would choose the essay every time. I have a box in my basement filled with old journals, diaries, letters and short stories written during elementary and high school. Even now, I would prefer to take the time to send an email or text message to someone rather than pick up the phone and call. I am somehow better at getting my point across with the written (rather than spoken) word.
Why, then, is the concept of writing on a bigger scale so terrifying? I am guessing confidence has a lot to do with it. "Jennifer Halter" and "self confidence" are two things that you will never hear in the same sentence. Unless, of course, that sentence is "Jennifer Halter has no self confidence". It is scary to think about putting your heart and soul into something that no one might ever want to read. I confided to a friend the other day that I had finally "written" the opening chapter of my future novel in my head, but was unable to actually write it down. I told her that the thought of finally putting proverbial pen to paper was intimidating. What if no one cared what I had to say? Her reply was "Write your story for YOU, and no one else. Even if you are the only one who ever reads it, you will still have written your novel." I realized, she was right.
There has been a story inside me for quite some time now. Until recently, it had been pretty well behaved, quietly rolling around in my head and not ruffling any feathers. Poking its head out every now and then, just to let me know it was still there. For the past several months the story has felt like a caged animal - loud and impossible to ignore, viciously pounding on the cage and demanding to be let out. There is rarely a waking hour that goes by where I don't hear a character "speaking" to me in my head. I had to resort to carrying a journal around with me everywhere to make sure these voices don't get lost in my increasingly feeble memory bank. I know that taking the first step will be the hardest - actually writing that first chapter.
I did, however, finally take an important step in the writing process yesterday. I ordered some books from the library to begin the research process. I have also been following an author online for many years now. He writes a daily blog and a monthly e-newsletter that are entirely devoted to "Novel Writing for Dummies". Recently, I have been devouring his blog and newsletter archives, where I had previously only regarded them as something to file away for that far off day in the future when I would begin to take this novel seriously.
Believe it or not, this blog post is actually a significant preliminary step in the process as well - actually admitting, out loud in a public forum, that this is something I want to do. Not worrying about whether or not people will mock, doubt or discourage me. I have no idea how long this process will take, or even whether or not anything print worthy will come out of it in the end, but I do know this: When my days in this life are drawing to a close, it is unlikely that I will regret having written a novel that wasn't a best seller (maybe didn't even get published). I would be more likely to regret having never written my story at all.
Play ball!
J :)
Friday, October 1, 2010
Social Butterfly
Well, all the buzz for this weekend seems to be about the movie "The Social Network" which opens in theatres today. I have to admit, I have been wanting to see this movie since I saw the first trailers a few months ago, and not because I am a Facebook junkie (which, of course, I am). I think it will be interesting to see the story behind the creation of, undoubtedly, one of the greatest phenomena of this millennium. Now that I am reading some reviews of the movie I am even more intrigued....Oscar Buzz!!!! I wasn't actually expecting the movie to be great, just an interesting story. I will definitely have to check it out.
It got me to thinking about what Facebook has actually done for me since I joined in early 2007. At first, of course, the novelty of Facebook was the opportunity to find old friends/neighbours/ex-boyfriends that you haven't seen in ages and check in on what they were doing. Did that guy who broke my heart in 10th grade end up bald and fat? Did the most popular girl in school really end up living happily ever after with the captain of the football team? How about that best friend that I lost touch with when she moved away the summer before high school? Answers to all of this, and more, could be found on Facebook. The first few months were ADDICTIVE - searching for all your long lost buddies. I can imagine office productivity was at an all time low during the early days of FBs popularity, before IT departments had sense enough to block the use of the site at work.
Now, however, I think FB has morphed into something beyond what anyone ever thought possible. Now, one of the greatest things for me about Facebook is being able to keep in touch with my family all over the world. I have over 60 FIRST cousins - most of whom I have either never met, or have not seen since I was quite young. Since FB came on the scene, more than half of those first cousins are on my friends list - as are their children and grandchildren (in some cases), giving me the opportunity to actually KNOW them. On my recent trip to Newfoundland, it was amazing to meet these relatives who were no longer strangers, even though distance had kept me from seeing them for many, many years.
Since my parents moved to Newfoundland back in February and my only brother has been living in Vancouver for several years, it is wonderful to be able to check on what they are up to and for them to be able to see pics of my kids' lost teeth, new hairstyles and redecorated bedrooms. Since I now have a new niece or nephew due to arrive in February, I won't feel so isolated from his/her little west coast life because mommy and daddy can keep us up-to-date on Facebook.
The other benefit (admittedly, an unexpected one) is what a great tool FB has become for my business. I can think of 3 or 4 real estate deals this year alone that would not have happened were it not for Facebook. I realized that there were a lot of people in my immediate circle that had no idea that I was a real estate agent. Now they do, thanks to FB, and they have an easy way to get in touch with me if they have any real estate questions. I have no problem adding past clients to my friends list, if they request it, as I never post anything on FB that I wouldn't want everyone to know. It is a great way to keep in touch with them and give them a chance to really get to know you as a person, instead of just the person that sold their house.
My friends list, relatively small compared to most, currently sits at around 400 - most of whom are old friends from the past, family members, co-workers and people that are in my current social circle. There are also a handful of real estate agents (mostly from the GTA, but several from other provinces and the USA)that are there for networking purposes. There is also at least one person on that list who I actually met BECAUSE of Facebook, and we have since become good friends. I trim my friends list regularly to get rid of folks that annoy me, post things that are offensive, or routinely get into fights with others via their status updates. The friends that remain on my list - I look forward to hearing what they have to say, sharing ideas, hearing about their awesome/crazy/stressful/funny/crappy day. I love to hear about engagements, new babies, vacations and birthdays. Sometimes life can get in the way of friendships and relationships, and Facebook gives you an easy way to just stay connected.
To be quite honest, I am not sure how we ever stayed in touch BEFORE Facebook came along. How did we plan a party, organize a fundraiser or remember everyone's birthday? I realize that Facebook is now a multi-billion dollar commodity, but I think most of the 500 million users (with the exception of, possibly, my husband) would agree that Facebook has changed the way they socialize, stay in touch and even run their businesses. Oh sure, it can be a huge time waster (some of those stupid games are ADDICTIVE!) but I think that if we woke up tomorrow and discovered that Facebook was gone, it would be sorely missed - as would all 400 of my FB friends.
J :)
It got me to thinking about what Facebook has actually done for me since I joined in early 2007. At first, of course, the novelty of Facebook was the opportunity to find old friends/neighbours/ex-boyfriends that you haven't seen in ages and check in on what they were doing. Did that guy who broke my heart in 10th grade end up bald and fat? Did the most popular girl in school really end up living happily ever after with the captain of the football team? How about that best friend that I lost touch with when she moved away the summer before high school? Answers to all of this, and more, could be found on Facebook. The first few months were ADDICTIVE - searching for all your long lost buddies. I can imagine office productivity was at an all time low during the early days of FBs popularity, before IT departments had sense enough to block the use of the site at work.
Now, however, I think FB has morphed into something beyond what anyone ever thought possible. Now, one of the greatest things for me about Facebook is being able to keep in touch with my family all over the world. I have over 60 FIRST cousins - most of whom I have either never met, or have not seen since I was quite young. Since FB came on the scene, more than half of those first cousins are on my friends list - as are their children and grandchildren (in some cases), giving me the opportunity to actually KNOW them. On my recent trip to Newfoundland, it was amazing to meet these relatives who were no longer strangers, even though distance had kept me from seeing them for many, many years.
Since my parents moved to Newfoundland back in February and my only brother has been living in Vancouver for several years, it is wonderful to be able to check on what they are up to and for them to be able to see pics of my kids' lost teeth, new hairstyles and redecorated bedrooms. Since I now have a new niece or nephew due to arrive in February, I won't feel so isolated from his/her little west coast life because mommy and daddy can keep us up-to-date on Facebook.
The other benefit (admittedly, an unexpected one) is what a great tool FB has become for my business. I can think of 3 or 4 real estate deals this year alone that would not have happened were it not for Facebook. I realized that there were a lot of people in my immediate circle that had no idea that I was a real estate agent. Now they do, thanks to FB, and they have an easy way to get in touch with me if they have any real estate questions. I have no problem adding past clients to my friends list, if they request it, as I never post anything on FB that I wouldn't want everyone to know. It is a great way to keep in touch with them and give them a chance to really get to know you as a person, instead of just the person that sold their house.
My friends list, relatively small compared to most, currently sits at around 400 - most of whom are old friends from the past, family members, co-workers and people that are in my current social circle. There are also a handful of real estate agents (mostly from the GTA, but several from other provinces and the USA)that are there for networking purposes. There is also at least one person on that list who I actually met BECAUSE of Facebook, and we have since become good friends. I trim my friends list regularly to get rid of folks that annoy me, post things that are offensive, or routinely get into fights with others via their status updates. The friends that remain on my list - I look forward to hearing what they have to say, sharing ideas, hearing about their awesome/crazy/stressful/funny/crappy day. I love to hear about engagements, new babies, vacations and birthdays. Sometimes life can get in the way of friendships and relationships, and Facebook gives you an easy way to just stay connected.
To be quite honest, I am not sure how we ever stayed in touch BEFORE Facebook came along. How did we plan a party, organize a fundraiser or remember everyone's birthday? I realize that Facebook is now a multi-billion dollar commodity, but I think most of the 500 million users (with the exception of, possibly, my husband) would agree that Facebook has changed the way they socialize, stay in touch and even run their businesses. Oh sure, it can be a huge time waster (some of those stupid games are ADDICTIVE!) but I think that if we woke up tomorrow and discovered that Facebook was gone, it would be sorely missed - as would all 400 of my FB friends.
J :)
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Hachiko: A Dog's Story
Recently, a friend loaned me a copy of a movie that I had never heard of. "It's about a Dog. Just watch it", I was told. Tonight, the girls and I snuggled in and did exactly that. It was, indeed, a movie about a dog. As it turned out, the movie was about so much more.
In addition to "the dog", the movie stars Richard Gere, Joan Allen and Jason Alexander. All pretty big-name stars, yet I had never heard a word about this movie...not a trailer, not a review - nothing. Surely, it couldn't be much of a movie then, could it?
How wrong I was - what an absolutely wonderful family movie it turned out to be! Based on a true story, the movie opens with an Akita Puppy being shipped on a plane from Japan, presumably to be united with his adoptive family. As often happens with airplane luggage, the poor pup is misrouted and ends up at a train station at the feet of Richard Gere. (LUCKY PUPPY!) After several attempts to locate the pup's intended owner, Gere realizes that perhaps he and the pooch were meant to be together and decides to keep him. He discovers a collar around the dog's neck with a Japanese symbol for the number 8 - Hachiko, or "good fortune" - and this becomes the dog's name (Hachi, for short).
The movie then goes on to follow the story of the dog and his beloved master as Hachi becomes a part of his family. I won't spoil the movie for those of you that have not seen it, let me just say that this was one of the best family movies I have seen in a long time. The performances were understated, yet powerful, and allowed the viewer to become lost in the story as it unfolded. This is not a movie with a big budget, a huge special effects team or endless plot twists. It is, quite simply, a really nice little movie. Should you decide to watch, you will not be disappointed.
What I cannot begin to understand is this: why is it that I had not heard of this movie until now? After a little research on the net, I discovered that the movie premiered at the Seattle Film Festival in 2009 to high critical praise, yet the studio decided not to give the film a theatrical release - shipping it, instead, straight to DVD and relative obscurity among the movie watching public. With the utter crap that is continually rammed down our throats in the mulitplexes (seriously people, Pirhana 3D???), how is it that a little gem like this was swept under the rug and forgotten? It is a shame, really.
It is a story of true love, loyalty and devotion that you will not soon forget. More than an hour after the end credits rolled, I am still thinking about it, hoping to get a chance to watch it again before I have to return the borrowed DVD. It just goes to show that it takes more than a big budget, flashy trailers and A-list stars with huge paycheques to make a good film. All it takes is a little heart, something that is sadly lacking in most of the mindless drivel that Hollywood churns out year after year.
The next rainy afternoon, snuggle up with the kiddies or your honey and give it a chance - you'll be glad you did!
J :)
In addition to "the dog", the movie stars Richard Gere, Joan Allen and Jason Alexander. All pretty big-name stars, yet I had never heard a word about this movie...not a trailer, not a review - nothing. Surely, it couldn't be much of a movie then, could it?
How wrong I was - what an absolutely wonderful family movie it turned out to be! Based on a true story, the movie opens with an Akita Puppy being shipped on a plane from Japan, presumably to be united with his adoptive family. As often happens with airplane luggage, the poor pup is misrouted and ends up at a train station at the feet of Richard Gere. (LUCKY PUPPY!) After several attempts to locate the pup's intended owner, Gere realizes that perhaps he and the pooch were meant to be together and decides to keep him. He discovers a collar around the dog's neck with a Japanese symbol for the number 8 - Hachiko, or "good fortune" - and this becomes the dog's name (Hachi, for short).
The movie then goes on to follow the story of the dog and his beloved master as Hachi becomes a part of his family. I won't spoil the movie for those of you that have not seen it, let me just say that this was one of the best family movies I have seen in a long time. The performances were understated, yet powerful, and allowed the viewer to become lost in the story as it unfolded. This is not a movie with a big budget, a huge special effects team or endless plot twists. It is, quite simply, a really nice little movie. Should you decide to watch, you will not be disappointed.
What I cannot begin to understand is this: why is it that I had not heard of this movie until now? After a little research on the net, I discovered that the movie premiered at the Seattle Film Festival in 2009 to high critical praise, yet the studio decided not to give the film a theatrical release - shipping it, instead, straight to DVD and relative obscurity among the movie watching public. With the utter crap that is continually rammed down our throats in the mulitplexes (seriously people, Pirhana 3D???), how is it that a little gem like this was swept under the rug and forgotten? It is a shame, really.
It is a story of true love, loyalty and devotion that you will not soon forget. More than an hour after the end credits rolled, I am still thinking about it, hoping to get a chance to watch it again before I have to return the borrowed DVD. It just goes to show that it takes more than a big budget, flashy trailers and A-list stars with huge paycheques to make a good film. All it takes is a little heart, something that is sadly lacking in most of the mindless drivel that Hollywood churns out year after year.
The next rainy afternoon, snuggle up with the kiddies or your honey and give it a chance - you'll be glad you did!
J :)
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Life is a Highway....
Yesterday at around 2:30pm I was driving westbound along Highway 401 - radio blaring and my 2 kids in the back seat (possible reason for radio blaring could have been to drown out the sounds of the 2 kids FIGHTING in the backseat, but I'm not sure) I was in the left lane, doing a respectable 110km/hr . Suddenly, I felt like the car was losing power. I couldn't maintain my speed any longer. I quickly decided to pull to the right lane to make sure everything was ok. Sure enough, my speed kept decreasing no matter how hard I jammed on the accelerator. I immediately pulled the car onto the shoulder and that's when I smelled the burning.
I am pretty certain my heart stopped at that moment. First thought: Get the kids as far away from the car and the speeding 401 traffic as possible. Second thought: Rescue my purse, my Nikon and my Blackberry from the front seat (stupid, perhaps, but let's be serious. I wasn't going to let my 2 other "babies" burn if the car was, in fact, on fire). Third thought: Now what?
While I was pulling kids and electronic gadgets from my 15 year old relic, a kind stranger had already pulled off the road and called for help. Thankfully, the car was not on fire, even though the smoke billowing out from under the hood would have you believe otherwise. To make a long story short, the mechanic called this morning with the sad, $2600+ news. My car had finally given up the ghost.
Last night, after the excitement had died down, Marc and I were talking about the "Ghosts of Cars Past". It got me thinking about how cars really are more than just a way to get from Point A to Point B. A car can represent your first taste of true freedom, your first brush with responsibility (and, usually, debt), they can be a status symbol or a reflection of your personality.
To date, I have owned seven different cars. I bought my first car at the ripe old age of 16. The ink was barely dry on my newly printed drivers licence. I purchased a 1984 Silver Chevrolet Chevette for the bargain price of $500 using some of the money I had earned working in a real estate office for the past 3 1/2 years. As you can imagine, I was on top of the world. I no longer had to rely on my parents to get me where I needed to go - freedom at last!
I was one of the first of my friends to have their very own wheels, and, boy, did those wheels get a workout. That poor little car never stopped. One day, one of my friends called the car "The Silver Bullet", and the nickname stuck. The car didn't have air conditioning, power steering or power brakes, but I loved it. For 15 bucks you could fill the tank and drive for 2 weeks. On any given day, the Silver Bullet could have as many as 8 passengers - in spite of the fact that the car only had 4 seat belts. (Luckily a few of my friends were small, and not at all opposed to riding in the hatchback). The Silver Bullet was witness to several first kisses and a few painful breakups. A few of my friends even learned how to drive (and passed their road tests) in that car. Best of all, the Bullet never left me stranded on the side of the road. In the time that I owned it, I never spent a penny on it, other than gas and oil changes. When the Silver Bullet finally gave up its ghost (after at least 250,000 Kms), the junk yard actually gave me $250 for it. It was, without a doubt, the best $500 I have ever spent.
My next car had big shoes to fill. The Silver Bullet was a hard act to follow. I bought a cherry red Dodge Colt for exactly 5 times what I paid for my Chevette. The car was a 5-speed manual transmission. My boyfriend at the time had taught me how to drive a stick (exactly once) on his honda civic, so of course I figured I was qualified to purchase a standard car. I was a second year student at U of T. I survived first year calculus - I could conquer this car!!!! I stalled the car at least 10 times on the way home, but I evenutally got the hang of it. It was a fun little car to zip around in, but it never pulled at my heart the way my first car did. I did, however, eventually give it a nickname - Little Red.
Little Red was a money pit - there always seemed to be something going wrong with it. Within months of buying it, I had to replace the clutch. At one point, Red's starter went. One of my friends told me that all I needed to do was have someone give the car a push while I sat inside and popped the clutch - and PRESTO, no starter needed. This was great fun and saved me a bundle in repair bills, but was a real bitch when I went somewhere by myself. I had my first accident in this car - my fault. I was driving Eastbound on the Lakeshore admiring a white Lamborghini heading West when I suddenly found myself parked underneath a Nissan Pathfinder. That was the end of Little Red. I can't say I was sorry to see her go.
Several other cars have followed. My blue Eagle Vision was the car I bought after I sold my first few houses as a brand new Realtor. My fondest memory of this car involves a camping trip at Kilbear with 3 of my guy friends from university - the car packed so full of gear that I couldn't see anyone in the backseat.
Next came a Chrysler Cirrus, which was the most incredible shade of purple. This car took me on my first date with Marc, brought Makenna safely home from the hospital, and fought a stop-sign-running mini van, emerging with barely a scratch.
After I (sadly) returned my leased Cirrus, I ended up with a 2001 Silver Chevy Cavalier. This car was a lemon from the get go. I'm hard pressed to even think of a good memory with this one - most of the memories involve me stranded on the side of the highway (always a highway, never a quiet side street) making a panicked phone call to Roadside Assisstance. It was cute, and the 5-speed manual transmission made it fun to drive, but I couldn't wait to get rid of it. In fact, I had already signed all the paperwork to lease a new Chevy Venture Van, when I parked the car under yet another SUV. (This time I blame a snow storm instead of a flashy white lamborghini) A $7,500 insurance claim seemed to be a fitting farewell to this lemon of a car.
The Venture van had a pretty unremarkable 4 year term as my mode of transportation. The girls were quite young, and most trips in the van involved watching the same movie over and over (and over) on the very handy entertainment system. Two that stick out in my memory are The Pacifier-starring Vin Diesel (sadly I couldn't see him, only listen as I drove) and Scooby Doo. There were no accidents, no highway breakdowns - just endless trips to brownie meetings, dance recitals, preschool classes and T-ball games. The quintessential "Mom Mobile", my mini van did its job of carrying my family safely wherever it needed to go.
In 2009, my four year lease was once again drawing to a close. I started shopping around for new cars. I really wasn't sure what I wanted and I wasn't keen on signing up for another 4 years of car payments. It would be really nice just to have a break! My dad had retired at the beginning of the year. He and my mom had decided that they didn't really have a need to have 2 cars on the road any longer, so his 1996 Grand Am was sitting in his driveway, undriven. He offered it to me and I jumped at the chance - happy to have a car that was paid for, even if it wasn't as pretty as some of the cars I had in the past. (Aren't I a little too old for my daddy to be giving me a car?) This car had its quirks (drivers window didn't open, glove box didn't close and the gear shift often popped off in my hand when I was trying to shift into park) but I quickly grew attached to this little junker (and the extra $500 in my bank account every month. Hellooooo, SHOPPING MONEY!!!!)
I took this little baby on my first big-girl, man-free road trips - first to Montreal, then to Buffalo (to spend the aforementioned shopping money) and, most recently, my first hubby-less camping trip with the kids. What it lacked in looks, it made up for with heart. The Pop-mobile ran like a champion until its untimely demise on the 401 yesterday. Now, you would think I would be happy to have an excuse to run out and buy a new car. You know me...I love spending money! Yet today, as I signed up for another 4 years of car payments, I was sad. Why am I so sad to see this car go? (In fact, as I was writing this blog I only got emotional about two of my former rides - the original Silver Bullet, and the Pop-mobile). Maybe it is because the car belonged to my father. With him so far away now, maybe I am more emotionally attached to this old car than I ever thought possible just simply because it was his. I'm not sure. In any case, that car lived a good life. RIP Pop-mobile!
As of Monday morning I will be the proud new owner of a 2010 Kia Forte in Titanium silver. A sporty little sedan that is good on gas and light on the wallet. I've never really been one to care about the kind of car that I drove (although some of the preceeding paragraphs might have you believing otherwise). I have always thought of a car simply as a mode of transportation. Period. The time I have spent writing this blog have made me realize that is not necessarily true. A car takes you on vacations and brings you to work. It watches your first date kiss you good night and takes you home to visit your family at Christmas. It brings your babies home from the hospital and is ready with kleenex in the glove box after you drop your "baby" at University. A car becomes a part of your life adventure, whether you realize it at the time or not.
Drive slowly...and enjoy the ride.
J :)
I am pretty certain my heart stopped at that moment. First thought: Get the kids as far away from the car and the speeding 401 traffic as possible. Second thought: Rescue my purse, my Nikon and my Blackberry from the front seat (stupid, perhaps, but let's be serious. I wasn't going to let my 2 other "babies" burn if the car was, in fact, on fire). Third thought: Now what?
While I was pulling kids and electronic gadgets from my 15 year old relic, a kind stranger had already pulled off the road and called for help. Thankfully, the car was not on fire, even though the smoke billowing out from under the hood would have you believe otherwise. To make a long story short, the mechanic called this morning with the sad, $2600+ news. My car had finally given up the ghost.
Last night, after the excitement had died down, Marc and I were talking about the "Ghosts of Cars Past". It got me thinking about how cars really are more than just a way to get from Point A to Point B. A car can represent your first taste of true freedom, your first brush with responsibility (and, usually, debt), they can be a status symbol or a reflection of your personality.
To date, I have owned seven different cars. I bought my first car at the ripe old age of 16. The ink was barely dry on my newly printed drivers licence. I purchased a 1984 Silver Chevrolet Chevette for the bargain price of $500 using some of the money I had earned working in a real estate office for the past 3 1/2 years. As you can imagine, I was on top of the world. I no longer had to rely on my parents to get me where I needed to go - freedom at last!
I was one of the first of my friends to have their very own wheels, and, boy, did those wheels get a workout. That poor little car never stopped. One day, one of my friends called the car "The Silver Bullet", and the nickname stuck. The car didn't have air conditioning, power steering or power brakes, but I loved it. For 15 bucks you could fill the tank and drive for 2 weeks. On any given day, the Silver Bullet could have as many as 8 passengers - in spite of the fact that the car only had 4 seat belts. (Luckily a few of my friends were small, and not at all opposed to riding in the hatchback). The Silver Bullet was witness to several first kisses and a few painful breakups. A few of my friends even learned how to drive (and passed their road tests) in that car. Best of all, the Bullet never left me stranded on the side of the road. In the time that I owned it, I never spent a penny on it, other than gas and oil changes. When the Silver Bullet finally gave up its ghost (after at least 250,000 Kms), the junk yard actually gave me $250 for it. It was, without a doubt, the best $500 I have ever spent.
My next car had big shoes to fill. The Silver Bullet was a hard act to follow. I bought a cherry red Dodge Colt for exactly 5 times what I paid for my Chevette. The car was a 5-speed manual transmission. My boyfriend at the time had taught me how to drive a stick (exactly once) on his honda civic, so of course I figured I was qualified to purchase a standard car. I was a second year student at U of T. I survived first year calculus - I could conquer this car!!!! I stalled the car at least 10 times on the way home, but I evenutally got the hang of it. It was a fun little car to zip around in, but it never pulled at my heart the way my first car did. I did, however, eventually give it a nickname - Little Red.
Little Red was a money pit - there always seemed to be something going wrong with it. Within months of buying it, I had to replace the clutch. At one point, Red's starter went. One of my friends told me that all I needed to do was have someone give the car a push while I sat inside and popped the clutch - and PRESTO, no starter needed. This was great fun and saved me a bundle in repair bills, but was a real bitch when I went somewhere by myself. I had my first accident in this car - my fault. I was driving Eastbound on the Lakeshore admiring a white Lamborghini heading West when I suddenly found myself parked underneath a Nissan Pathfinder. That was the end of Little Red. I can't say I was sorry to see her go.
Several other cars have followed. My blue Eagle Vision was the car I bought after I sold my first few houses as a brand new Realtor. My fondest memory of this car involves a camping trip at Kilbear with 3 of my guy friends from university - the car packed so full of gear that I couldn't see anyone in the backseat.
Next came a Chrysler Cirrus, which was the most incredible shade of purple. This car took me on my first date with Marc, brought Makenna safely home from the hospital, and fought a stop-sign-running mini van, emerging with barely a scratch.
After I (sadly) returned my leased Cirrus, I ended up with a 2001 Silver Chevy Cavalier. This car was a lemon from the get go. I'm hard pressed to even think of a good memory with this one - most of the memories involve me stranded on the side of the highway (always a highway, never a quiet side street) making a panicked phone call to Roadside Assisstance. It was cute, and the 5-speed manual transmission made it fun to drive, but I couldn't wait to get rid of it. In fact, I had already signed all the paperwork to lease a new Chevy Venture Van, when I parked the car under yet another SUV. (This time I blame a snow storm instead of a flashy white lamborghini) A $7,500 insurance claim seemed to be a fitting farewell to this lemon of a car.
The Venture van had a pretty unremarkable 4 year term as my mode of transportation. The girls were quite young, and most trips in the van involved watching the same movie over and over (and over) on the very handy entertainment system. Two that stick out in my memory are The Pacifier-starring Vin Diesel (sadly I couldn't see him, only listen as I drove) and Scooby Doo. There were no accidents, no highway breakdowns - just endless trips to brownie meetings, dance recitals, preschool classes and T-ball games. The quintessential "Mom Mobile", my mini van did its job of carrying my family safely wherever it needed to go.
In 2009, my four year lease was once again drawing to a close. I started shopping around for new cars. I really wasn't sure what I wanted and I wasn't keen on signing up for another 4 years of car payments. It would be really nice just to have a break! My dad had retired at the beginning of the year. He and my mom had decided that they didn't really have a need to have 2 cars on the road any longer, so his 1996 Grand Am was sitting in his driveway, undriven. He offered it to me and I jumped at the chance - happy to have a car that was paid for, even if it wasn't as pretty as some of the cars I had in the past. (Aren't I a little too old for my daddy to be giving me a car?) This car had its quirks (drivers window didn't open, glove box didn't close and the gear shift often popped off in my hand when I was trying to shift into park) but I quickly grew attached to this little junker (and the extra $500 in my bank account every month. Hellooooo, SHOPPING MONEY!!!!)
I took this little baby on my first big-girl, man-free road trips - first to Montreal, then to Buffalo (to spend the aforementioned shopping money) and, most recently, my first hubby-less camping trip with the kids. What it lacked in looks, it made up for with heart. The Pop-mobile ran like a champion until its untimely demise on the 401 yesterday. Now, you would think I would be happy to have an excuse to run out and buy a new car. You know me...I love spending money! Yet today, as I signed up for another 4 years of car payments, I was sad. Why am I so sad to see this car go? (In fact, as I was writing this blog I only got emotional about two of my former rides - the original Silver Bullet, and the Pop-mobile). Maybe it is because the car belonged to my father. With him so far away now, maybe I am more emotionally attached to this old car than I ever thought possible just simply because it was his. I'm not sure. In any case, that car lived a good life. RIP Pop-mobile!
As of Monday morning I will be the proud new owner of a 2010 Kia Forte in Titanium silver. A sporty little sedan that is good on gas and light on the wallet. I've never really been one to care about the kind of car that I drove (although some of the preceeding paragraphs might have you believing otherwise). I have always thought of a car simply as a mode of transportation. Period. The time I have spent writing this blog have made me realize that is not necessarily true. A car takes you on vacations and brings you to work. It watches your first date kiss you good night and takes you home to visit your family at Christmas. It brings your babies home from the hospital and is ready with kleenex in the glove box after you drop your "baby" at University. A car becomes a part of your life adventure, whether you realize it at the time or not.
Drive slowly...and enjoy the ride.
J :)
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