In-Between

Dear Friends, 
Fall has officially arrived, with very little consideration for Miss Summer who is having trouble gathering up her skirts and leaving. 
I, personally, feel in-between seasons, in every sense of the word. I don't know what I'm getting into tomorrow, as much as I don't know what I'm going to wear. If it's a warm sunny day, I shall be light, if it's a cold rainy day, I shall bring out the umbrella, the gloves, and make the best of it! 
In-between has a "dangling" property, an unsettling sense of being neither here nor there. 
In-between jobs, cities, sizes, and in my case, in-between phases of life. But in reality, in-between is an unappreciated present. We have the tendency to fill this cradle of opportunities with complaints, doubts and impatience. While we are not here, nor there, we might as well enjoy our suspension, because either here or there, is definite, entailing rules, routines and commitments that tie us down. 

birds in-between destinations

The Party at the End of the World!

Dear Friends,
As much as I hate dying, and leaving behind a body for people to visit, I've made lovely plans for the after-viewing.
One summer evening, many, many years ago, I realized that my favourite dance spot in Toronto was dead smack in front of a funeral home. Looking for any excuse to philosophize, I kept saying to myself, 'Lili, enjoy life, death is across the street!' And then I thought, what a brilliant idea, after visitation, mourners can come straight to the reception. I leaned forward and told my friend to make sure that a spoonful of my ashes is spread somewhere in the vicinity of the dance floor, where I feel the freest. 
Tonight, as I was tapping my feet to Jimmy Buffett's The Party at the End of the World, I noticed that my favourite joint in Cobourg, is also dead smack in front of a funeral home!
Far be it from my little brain to solve this cosmic puzzle. I'm just happy that whether I die in Toronto or in Cobourg, my ashes will end up at the feet of some musician. 

"You surely must attend

                                The party at the end of the world"

LIFE

DEATH

Truth Be Told!

Dear Friends,
Taking a page out of Oprah's magazine, I know for sure that:
1. I will never act my age because I don't feel my age.
2. I will never reach Nirvana because I'm incapable of just being.
3. I can do crossword puzzles in English
4. If I don't get fully dressed in the morning, putting on a brassiere later in the day proves to be very challenging.
5. Parenthood is like Hotel California, you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave!
6. There is a blurry line between relaxation, laziness and depression.
7. People with stupid notions shouldn't be allowed to talk because they influence impressionable minds!
8. Dancing gives me temporary amnesia (what a blessing)!
9. Water has mood elevating properties, whether before my eyes, on my skin or in my body. 
10. I will never fully like, or accept myself.

Trouble in Paradise!

Dear Friends,
Cobourg and I are not getting along!
The local free publications don't need another opinion-piece-writer. The neighbourhood school hasn't called yet, and we all know what happened at the art gallery. Most importantly, my small-town romantic fantasy remains sterile. No handsome out-of-towner, no prominent local, not even an inappropriately younger country boy! Only a few rejectee barflies who return the following week with women half-my age, just to prove a point! I certainly have picked the wrong season to raise my standards!
So, when a friendly neighbour invited me to check out Probus, I agreed. Not in the hope of meeting someone, but in order to find out what else I could do with my time, aside from taking pictures, eating and cursing at the TV. 
Probus is a large social group that meets twice a month, at 9am, in Cobourg Lion's Community Centre. It has a board of directors, a few committees, a treasurer, a monthly newsletter and a vast calendar of events (lunches, brunches, dinner-theatres, concerts, trips). Most members are in their seventies, but they are astonishingly fit and chic. No signs of stretch pants or polyester. I'm talking designer frames, colour coordination, accessories, decent haircuts and quite a bit of makeup!
The meeting started with the singing of the national anthem, which reminded me of school, and then went on and on, which also reminded me of school! It seems that reading off handouts is a common practice, at any meeting. Right before reaching the edge of boredom, I heard the words "decorating" and "Halloween". My raised hand was met with applause! The lady in charge, happy to have found a juvenile volunteer, took down my name and number!
The meeting ended with a long, dry presentation, to raise funds for a charitable organization. That also reminded me of school.
Except for the picture of Queen Elizabeth, who kept looking at me disapprovingly, the white tablecloths and fresh danishes, it seemed as if I had sat through a staff meeting at school.
Do I really want to join another institution?

Sexy, invisible or eccentric!

Dear Friends,
Recently, I saw a program on the subject of female sexuality. The speaker claimed that today's beauty and youth crazed society has given its female population only two choices, to be sexual or to remain invisible.
Since sexuality bade farewell while ago (the ingrate), and I don't do invisible very well, I tried my hand at writing, decorating, even taking a small town by storm! Alas, no public recognition, only my friends'. What is an obscure, moneyless single older woman to do? Become eccentric, in her looks, behaviour, and pictures she takes.
If you run into a speedy woman with large cat-eye sunglasses and hot pink sneakers (and devil knows what in-between), smile, it's me, playing being seen! If you see a relatively short pair of legs wrapped in a long bright red skirt, hanging from a bar stool, smile, it's me, playing being seen!
What you think of me, doesn't really matter. As long as you smile, smirk or laugh, I'm visible.

Joan Rivers

Dear Friends,
The first few days of my sixties went something like this; detox, detox, detox and live vicariously through my friends who are still working teachers. And then Joan Rivers dies! 
I get very attached to celebrities who visit my living room on a regular basis. Losing one of them is like losing a part of myself. 
Joan Rivers was one of the most politically incorrect women of my time and I loved her for it. She always said what we only dared to think. Most importantly, she used humour to deal with her own mortality and imperfections. Me too, I like poking fun at myself. 
Best of all, she gave her daughter the finest gift a parent can give her children; she claimed she had an amazing life and made light of her death. I admire her for that!
Rest in peace, Joan Rivers, and thank you for restoring my right to bare legs :-)!

September Blues!

Dear Friends,
Although I have done a few idiotic things in my life, putting myself in some pretty strange situations, I do have a strong survival instinct (just like any other middle child). There is in me a certain stubbornness, almost an obsession that doesn't let me accept defeat. As Kenny Roger's Gambler advises, I know when to hold em, when to fold em, when to walk away, and when to run, be it from toxic relationships or strenuous circumstances. Thus, I retired and moved to Cobourg.
As much fun as it is to watch movies at midnight or live without an alarm-clock, I felt the September blues sneaking up on me. If I were an artist, I would've painted in colours of nostalgia, if I were a composer, I could've written a melancholic sonata. I tried my hand at versing my blues, but it didn't come out right. I'm still a teacher, and I need to be where I'm needed, in the classroom, at least for  a while longer. Since I haven't forgotten about poor management, difficult parents, last minute changes, untimely deadlines or unwelcome initiatives, I have no desire to belong to the institution. However, I found the secret to my survival - sailing across classrooms without having to drop anchor.
Tomorrow, I will cross the threshold of a school near me, to volunteer my services for the upcoming academic year. I feel energized, purposeful.
I wish all teachers and learners, especially my friends, former colleagues and students a rewarding year, full of purpose, patience, and positivity. May your uniqueness be noted, your contributions recognized, and your achievements celebrated!