Category Archive: family

Jason’s 2010

I actually started writing this post out a few days before tonight. There’s a lot to cover in a year and I wanted to make sure that I spent more than a bit of time getting my thoughts together. Yeah, without thinking about it too much, my first response is to call 2010 a banner year. Yes, there were hardships along the way, and a lot of hard work was needed just to continue moving forward. All the same, I wouldn’t take any of it back. There’s so much that I wouldn’t have even dreamt of in 2009. It was that kind of year.

This is a big post, so the remainder will come after the jump. Read the rest of this entry »

True escape?

My condo is a disaster zone.

Escaping to the parents’ place for the holiday.

Oh…but is that really an escape?

Easy escape

I realize this is probably going to make me sound like a rotten son, but one of the big joys of having my own place is that I have some place to escape to if I ever get into an argument with my parents. Whenever I visit them, I always hope for something relaxing without any expectations. I mean if I’m invited over for dinner, all I want is to go over there and enjoy. Having a nice conversation would be a bonus. Lately it’s been a bit tough because they’re still adjusting to their new place. Really, I don’t mind helping with some tasks if that was my purpose for going over there. Otherwise, the visit just becomes unpleasant. Combine that with parental expectations and it easy for nerves to become frayed. The fact that I can choose to not partake in whatever negativity is brewing and escape to cool off is a blessing.

Don’t misunderstand: I love my parents dearly. I just question how well they’ve adjusted to the fact that the old rules no longer apply. I wonder if I understand that myself.

Last moving experience

I had to take a day off work today to help my parents move their stuff from the house to their new condo. They’ve been packing for this day, but when I arrived at their house this morning I found them rather unprepared. They really only planned on sending the big items with the movers, and leaving the smaller things to be picked up at a later time. They made sure they had this luxury by choosing a move date mid-month, and leaving the rest of the month as a transition time. That’s all well and good, except that they still had a lot of small things lying around in and around the big things. How the heck they expected the movers to pick up the big items while they were still loaded is sort of beyond me. The whole situation reminded me of the time we all moved from North York over to Scarborough. That one move was entirely one of the worst moves ever because we were entirely unprepared. More than half of everything was unboxed. The movers were clearly frustrated and didn’t treat my parents all that well. That bad experience led me to make sure that everything I needed to move when I was moving to my condo was boxed and ready to go. That move was entirely quick and painless. For my parents’ move though, I was fearing the worst.

I didn’t want things to be in entirely bad shape, so I was scrambling all over their house to get as much as I could in order. I emptied out cabinets, and rearranged things so that the movers could have easy access. All this time, my parents didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned. Oh man, that bothered the heck out of me. What if I wasn’t there? Would they have left things as is? What if they ended up with another mover with a nasty attitude? Of course I was worried. Well, I worked my ass off right up until the movers came. To my relief, my initial assessment of the movers was a good one. They seemed like they wouldn’t take advantage of my parents, so I was comfortable leaving them alone. I drove over to my parents’ new condo and waited. God, that was a long time. I actually napped on the couch for a few hours just waiting for them to arrive. Apparently they took a long time loading up the truck. I was worried.

When the truck arrived, my father came in and told me to get ready. I got off the couch and started anticipating things. Ooh, there sure was a heck of a lot of stuff. My dad seemed to not want to let go of a lot of furniture, despite the fact that they were downsizing. My father consistently told me that he measured the big pieces of furniture and that he was sure everything would fit. There were many moments where the movers and I shared a laugh over his insistence on making things fit. There were many tight squeezes all over. In the end, yeah, things fit, but there really needs to be a lot of organization.

I’m glad that my parents are downsizing, because they really do not need a big house for themselves. They’re now empty-nesters that deserve to have a more relaxed lifestyle. I would imagine that this move will be their last, so at the very least they won’t have to go through this moving hell again. This time they were fortunate with the movers who must have had a bit of respect for these elderly folk. I know that they’ll be able to get everything organized, but it won’t be without a bit of struggle. The next two weeks will be rough, but I’m sure they’ll enjoy it. Normalcy is something off in the distance, but they’re patient and hardworking. Everything will work out; I’m sure of it.

The lore of St. Joseph

Maybe I’ve mentioned it here before, but I know I’ve told a couple of people that my parents decided to sell their house. I can only imagine that it’s a difficult thing to transition from striving to buy a big spacious house to cutting back and moving into something smaller. With me out of the house, it only makes sense for them to downsize. Therefore, I fully support their decision. They need to enjoy their years instead of finding themselves entirely concerned with just paying the house off, you know?

Anyway, the process of selling the house started at the beginning of April. It seemed like things were going well. The house had a lot of showings, and a heck of a lot of the people that came by liked the house. They seemed interested and were very complimentary. My parents patiently waited for an offer to come in, but one never came. After a few weeks, the frustration was starting to kick in. I was starting to become worried myself because I didn’t want to see them go through such trouble, you know? I was telling a friend about this worry when she mentioned a little bit of related Catholic folk magic that seemed to have a following. All of it revolved around making a petition to St. Joseph who’s the patron saint of the family and home. Legend says that if you bury a statuette of St. Joseph in the ground and ask for your house to sell, the house will sell shortly thereafter. If you search the Internet, you’ll find a good amount of stories from people that believe that this worked for them. I passed this bit of lore over to my parents, and they decided to give it a shot.

On Friday morning, they went over to a religious article store and bought a small statuette. When they got it home, my father buried it in the front yard and they proceeded to make the petition. Heck, so did I. I just wanted my parents to be happy. The weekend came and went with a couple of showings, but nothing. Monday came and two families dropped by. The first one was ready to make an offer but they went well below asking price and had a ridiculous amount of conditions. Both my parents and their real estate agents were frustrated. A second family came by shortly after that was more amenable. The family’s kids were all over the house and were enjoying the deck out back. The family also placed an offer and actually went a bit over asking price. And that’s the family that sealed the deal. So yes, my parents went from having tons of showings but no offers, to having two offers on the same day.

I know, it’s going to sound a little bit insane to attribute any part of this to the lore, but for me I’m willing to believe. Why not? Yeah, it’s unscientific, and just crazy…but it’s also fun to think that this had an effect. So yeah, much gratitude goes up to St. Joseph for looking out for them. Once the deal is fully done I expect my mother to dig up the statue and put it up some place for people to see. It sure is an interested story to tell, isn’t it?

The cook’s confidence

So, if you’ve been following along, you know that I’m pretty proud of my cooking abilities. It’s not uncommon for me to post pictures of food that I’ve cooked or baked on this blog. Sure, it doesn’t come easily. For every picturesque meal there’s been something untasty, burned, or unpresentable. Despite that, I still keep at it just because cooking is an awesome activity. The synthesis of a comprehensive whole from a bunch of elements and raw ingredients is amazing, you know? I think one thing though that allows me to try new things and work on my technique is the fact that I’m only cooking for myself. I figure that if I had to cook for another person I’d be much less likely to try something new, just because I don’t want to subject that person to something unexpected. What if I churn out a failure? Then two people end up screwed, eh?

Whenever I have to cook for other people I try to do things that I know are great. For example, whipping out a great oven roast is just awesome. Besides vegetarians and such, who doesn’t like a big slab of nicely done meat? In the end, doing something safe is kind of a good confidence booster. God knows, I kind of need it. Maybe it’s a reflection of how I function in other spheres of life, but I kind of feel like I lack true confidence in my abilities. For example, like I said last night, I was put in charge of Easter dinner. I ended up making a prime rib roast, baked spaghetti and meatballs, roasted baby potatoes, and a butterscotch apple cake. Each of these turned out OK, but I could have picked out one or two things that I could have done to make each one better. As much as the roast was well seasoned, I could have used some salt. The pasta was good, but more sauce would have made it awesome. The potatoes were great, but I could have cut down on the olive oil. The cake was decent, but not entirely all that pretty. As we ate as a family, my parents were telling me everything was good. In the back of my mind, I was wondering if they could pick out the flaws. Even if they could, they didn’t tell me; they were just appreciative that I went to all the trouble.

And therein came the realization.

If I’m cooking for other people, it doesn’t matter if something isn’t completely perfect; as long as I’m doing it from the heart, that alone outweighs any small deficiencies. And the fact that I’m looking to improve and churn out better things just makes it all even more worthwhile.

So yeah, I need to stow away any confidence issues when I cook. As long as I’m willing to make the effort and do the best I can, no one will hate me for it.

To a clean state

Upon getting my own place, I told myself that I would never let it get to a point where cleaning up is a horribly tough prospect. I figured that as long as I do a little bit every day to keep things somewhat organized things won’t get far too disorganized. For the most part I’ve kept it up. Over the past month or two though I’ve gotten so busy that cleaning up has been pretty low priority. Even though things were kind of untidy I just told myself that things weren’t horribly bad. A little bit here, a little bit there: it wouldn’t have been that hard to return to a clean state. And that’s how things just kept piling up. Not much of a problem if I wasn’t expecting anyone, right? Well, a few days ago I was told that I’d be hosting Easter dinner. Circumstances are such that my parents aren’t able to cook at their house. So, it was mom’s idea to have dinner over at my place. I don’t mind at all. I mean, I haven’t hosted people over here in a good while. Of course, this means that I’ve had to clean this place up.

I’ve been up since the early hours just trying to get things in order, and it’s been tough. Especially for the first few hours, it really felt like I wasn’t making any progress. I think part of the problem is a lack of proper storage for random things. If there’s something I need more of here, it’s a bunch of drawers or shelves or containers that I can use to stash things away in. Everything needs a place–even little bits of clutter. I’ve accumulated a lot in the past while. I’ve had to send large amounts of it to recycling; a lot of it has been shredded as well. There have also been a lot of distractions making it hard to focus on the task at hand. At this point, late in the day, I’m not entirely happy with the current state of things. I’m going to use tomorrow morning to rush to get it all into shape. Going to rock tomorrow, for sure.

Ruiner

Especially with the Easter weekend upon us, I’m spending a lot of time with the family. And the increase in time with the family means more eating than usual.

I’m telling myself: one weekend of letting go isn’t going to ruin six months of hard work and good habits, right?

Right?

Yarr…..

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