HairPlay teaser

Over a year ago I wrote a post about lemons and shared with you how my Mum used to find a lot of joy by washing her hair with lemons - just like she did while growing up in Samoa.

It reminded me of the many, many hairstyles that my Mum sported and I promised you that I would post pictures when I got a hold of them from my Mum.

Over a year later, my Mum brought all our family pictures 

to our house for me to utilize.

(That's #IslandTime for ya!) 

They arrived last week and I have a few for you today with the promise that I will post many more once I scan them. They need proper scanning to truly appreciate how awesome my Mum's hair was...all without hairspray!

Centre: Mum, before children in Samoa. Island hair. All-the-way!
Left: Mum sporting her amazingly natural beehive. I have no idea how she did it. She's loving her first baby.
Right: Mum leaving the hospital with baby #2 sporting a beehive with a braid.
How does she look SO good after having a baby?!?!

Northern Falé II

To say the least, 

my kids are very excited 

to build our new home.

After living in our "student villa"

for over 12 years,

we're all feeling ready 

to make the

house of our dreams

a reality.

My kids have house-dreams too.

I've asked them to

design their dreams for our home

in Minecraft,

a popular kids building game.

First up is Rémi, 12yrs. old:

Rémi's redesign of the front of our home.

In-house Architect's critical analysis:

(by André Arseneault)

The front entry and generous porch space 

is obviously important to Rémi.

Réminds me somewhat of Frank Llyod Wright's 

style of Architecture.

Rémi's redesign of our kitchen.

In-house Architect's critical analysis:

Clearly lots of space for guests

and 

lots of space for eating.

A very social space as Rémi included books.

Nice view out to the landscape beyond.

Rémi's redesign of our kitchen table in a new diningroom.

In-house Architect's critical analysis:

I just see table.

Here's someone who likes to eat.

Clearly a Hobbit!

More to come!

Stay tuned!

Northern Falé journey: I, III, IV, V, VI 

Polski

These are *not* doughnut holes. Not even close! Read on!

People used to ask me if "Daisy" was my nickname. Nope. That's my true blue, through and through bona fide birth-given name. My Mum's highschool friend was named Daisy and she looooooved her friend's name and wanted this name for me. 

I've had few nicknames throughout my life but a good friend, who wanted to highlight my Polish heritage, would call me "Polski".

"Polski" made sense.

My last name (at the time) was Podeszwa (pronounced POh-dEz-wAh in English. pronounced POh-dEsh-vAh in Polish). 

I loved my last name. It took me awhile to love it. Growing up, on the first day of school, I would sit with my head down on my desk, filled with anxiety, while the teacher went down the class list:

Sarah Adams? "here!"....Karen Brown? "here!" Jason MacDonald? "here!"....Daisy Po...Po...Po-desk...Po-zed...Po-zzzzwah (in my younger years, roars of laughter would erupt from the class depending on the phoenetic acrobatics that would come out of the teacher's jumbled mouth) "PODESZWA!" I would call to help out. The teacher would stick to "Daisy" and quickly move on.

Growing up I was told that "Podeszwa" meant "heel of the shoe". Our close teenage friends would bug us saying that's why my brother's and my teenage feet stunk so bad. Hahahaha! Good times!

I wasn't sure if the translation to English of Podeszwa was really true, so, I just googled "Podeszwa" to see what I would find. I cried from laughing SO hard! In "google images", there's a seemingly endless supply of pictures of the bottom of shoes or heels of fancy shoes/boots. So. Many. Different. Kinds. Of. Shoes. Once again, I literally "LOL"! Try it! What images come up for your last name?

I have SO many pictures of my brothers and I working in a garden & Dad's stories of his trips to Poland, 
visiting all the farms, that this picture perfectly defines being Polish to me.
Here are the Podeszwa kids, with Dad Podeszwa, soles of our feet covered in a garden, working. 
I bet my younger brother "watered" the plants after this pic!

I also found an "English translation" on the net for "Podeszwa". Here it is: 

sole {noun} [sports]
So there were no longer shoe makers, but now there are people slapping soles on people's shoes.
sole (of the foot and of shoe) {noun}

So there you go! "Podeszwa" is the "Smith" of Poland! Funny short story: my brother married a Smith. Yup! True short story!

On Feb.12th, 2015, I popped onto Facebook. Two interesting things happened:

1. A friend of mine, who served her Mormon mission in Poland, began posting "Fat Thursday" (in Polish, Tłusty Czwartek) pictures. She smothered her Facebook page full of Pączki (Polish pastries, very much like doughnuts) pictures. My mouth was certainly watering by now and with every picture, this treat was looking very familiar. I thought I never tried this treat before but my watering mouth told me that this treat was familiar.

2. My brother's Mother-in-law, yup, the "Smith", posted a website to my brother with a photo of my Dad's older brother's gravestone on it. My brother has been gathering his family history and his Mother-in-law found the gravestone, of my Uncle that died as an infant, online. Weird! How could it be "Fat Thursday" and my Uncle's discovery day in one? I was particularly excited because I had just recently gathered information about my Uncle Charles from my Dad. I could confirm the identity of this grave stone because I had just written down my Uncle Charles' birth & death years and the cemetery that he was buried in. Everything on the site was correct. 

I then shared with my bro's Mother-in-law the story behind that stone. You see, my Dad had recently replaced his older brother's stone. I thought he replaced it because it was worn down. My Dad is 75, so that would make his brother 77. I called my Dad again and my Dad shared that he replaced the stone because "Podeszwa" was not spelled correctly (no surprise there!). Also, My Uncle's first name, Charles, was not included on the stone. My Dad did this for his older brother, the brother he had not even met. This story had always touched me. After hearing about it again recently, I was even more determined to get back to my home-town, in London, ON, to see my Uncle's new stone but here I was seeing it for the first time on the internet. A stranger had taken a picture of it and uploaded it online for this exact purpose. So that people looking for their lost loved ones, can find them online. I told my Dad that the stone for his brother was now online. I wasn't sure what he would think of that. He simply said that it was amazing. Just amazing. At the time that my Dad put this stone together, I was busy with little ones and did not have time to support him in this worthy cause. His efforts seemed to go unnoticed and unheralded. That bothered him. In fact, he wanted to be there when that stone was laid but the nuns at the cemetery had neglected to notify him of the stone's replacement. This never sat well with him but all seemed to wash away when his efforts were validated by a volunteer who took time to take that picture, upload it online and now his son, who lives on the other side of the country, and his daughter, have viewed the stone.

Many of you know that I lost my fourth baby, Isoefa Alofa. It has been six years since we lost him and I have not yet had the heart to put his stone together and placed at his grave site. I felt like the time was getting closer and this would probably be the year. When I saw my Uncle Charles' stone, I knew for sure this would be the year. I want my baby's stone to reflect my Uncle Charles' stone. I'm ready and I now look forward to this special moment. 

Through my baby's loss and the loss of my Uncle Charles, I feel closer to my Nana, my Dad's Mother. She died when I was little but I remember her very well. I feel her loss. I feel for her loss and now I feel that much closer to her.

I Love this picture of my Nana. She looks SO Polish to me.
The dress, the hat, her strong body.
Nice legs Nana!

So, when I jumped on twitter later in the day and saw this tweet from one of my favourite local European bakeries, Nougat Bakery,

Nougat Bakery @Nougat_Bakery · Feb 12

Paczki - all day long #FatThursday #delicious

 

View more photos and videos

0 replies0 retweets0 favorites

I couldn't take it any more! I called the bakery, made sure they still had Paczki (they did!), and then called my husband to pick them up on his way home from work.

My husband arrived soon after and our family sat around the table learning about Paczki (pronounced pawnch-ki). This Polish delicacy is traditionally served on Fat Thursday, the last Thursday before the Catholic Ash Wednesday, where Lent begins along with the ban of lard, sugar, eggs and fruit, until Easter. These beautifully simple ingredients are used up together to create this brilliant fruit-filled bun. I must learn how to make them. I carry all these ingredients in my home. All-the-time. Why wouldn't I? I'm Polish!

Paczki!

We tried 3 different kinds of Paczki; Rose (rose-hip jam.lovely!), Raspberry and Advocat (like a boston cream but better).

The table favourite? Without a doubt, it was the raspberry. Each Paczki was beautiful and delicious and would win my dessert heart. However, the raspberry seemed to burst in our mouths with depths of flavour that perfectly complimented the fluffy pastry. It made us all wish there was more raspberry!

Raspberry Paczki.
Heaven!

For me personally, it was a rich taste of something familiar. I think my Dad has bought a cheaper version in the past or I had them as a young child with my staunchly Catholic Nana. Either way, the taste was a taste of home and on Fat Thursday, I felt closer to my Nana and my Uncle Charles. It was a special day and I thank my friend for honouring her time in Poland by posting those pictures and I thank my adopted Mother-in-law for finding Uncle Charles on Fat Thursday. It truly was a Fat Thursday - fat with the spirit of loved ones and cultural heritage. 

My Valentines Day is dedicated to my Nana Podeszwa, 

who suffered the loss of a child, 

on her own, in a strange new country where she began building 

her new home and future. My Valentines Day is also dedicated to my Uncle Charles, who I know enjoys eternal glory 

with his humble Mother and Father. 

Much Love,

your little,

Polski

 

Northern Falé

This year, 2015, will be the début

of our

"Northern Falé"

house design

Creative process, inspiration, plans, renderings, sketches 
and even "minecraft renderings" 
(c/o our children) 

will début here in 

#MyFale 

The design will be orchestrated by our 

"in-house Architect"

André Arseneault

We look forward to sharing 

with you the evolution of our 

Uptown Waterloo Home

*Update: the Northern Falé journey continues... II, III, IV, V & VI.

Old Acquaintance

There's a saying,

"Yesterday is history, 

tomorrow is a mystery

but today is a gift. 

That is why it's called

"the present.""

I try to live by these words of wisdom. I have embraced my present. Two wonderful boys. One darling daughter. That's five of us in our present family. I wanted more of us. At least two more but it wasn't meant to be. So, the five of us carry on quite happily.

Then subtle reminders stop me in my tracks. Like the sweet neighbour boy who seemed about the age of my lost boy, our fourth baby, that died at 24 weeks gestation. My daughter would come home from school and tell me how our little neighbour hugs her every time he see's her in school. I immediately think of what could have been. She could've had a little brother relying on his big sister for comfort and assurance at school. But this is not our life. That's history.

Then the same sweet little boy has his sixth birthday at the beginning of the same month that we will honour our little lost boy's sixth birth-day.

History collides with the present. 

Is it still a gift? It is! I can assure you that it is! Our neighbour's little boy has a sweet little brother and two wonderful parents that come with him. They have entered our lives unexpectedly and have enriched our present. They are a gift! In fact, that sweet little boy's Mother provided a Christmas miracle for me this year. In a very personal and weak moment this month, I felt overwhelmed with sadness and longed to be thought of and cared for in the midst of caring for so many others. The Mother of this sweet boy, not knowing the depth of my feelings, was an answer to that prayer and provided a literal "present" for me that was both unexpected and deeply meaningful. A gift that represented her past and was now blessing my present. A true Christmas gift and like my lost little boy, a Christmas miracle.

My little boy will never be forgotten. Isoefa Alofa Arseneault. Samoan for "Joseph Love". Joseph because he is a Christmas baby. We discovered his death via ultrasound on Christmas day 2008. I wanted to honour the incredible man that is the earthly father of the baby Jesus, Joseph. I have such deep respect for Joseph and the gentle ways he seemed to have with both Mary and Jesus as a baby and then as a growing child. Such an exemplary Father and parent. This is how I imagine my Isoefa. Gentle, strong and loving.

Alofa, meaning love, because of all the love we feel for him and all the love we imagine he feels for us. My younger brother suggested Alofa for a middle name and it is most appropriate. Honouring our Samoan heritage and the love that is abundant there.

What I didn't expect from his birth is the Love that would surround our family then and continues today.

Thank you! Thank you friends, family, strangers, angels and especially my Father in Heaven for all the Love that you have delivered to our family in so many different ways since that historical day. Small or big, it matters not. You were and are a gift to us. 

One such gift was given to me by my friend, Meaghan Smith, who kept up with my story & viewed my photos of the sad events of that day on Facebook. She comforted me in my grief at the time through the words that she reached out to me with. I was then floored to receive an email from this busy Canadian singer/songwriter right before the year anniversary of my baby's death. She had written a song about my Isoefa and did a rough recording of it with her husband, Jason Mingo. This music soothed my broken soul & heart and captured all the emotions of my experience that I could not capture for myself. Just like any gift that was received at that time or since, it continues to bring divine comfort to my aching Mother heart. Grab another tissue and have a listen:

Guess what Meags? After a very green & dry Christmas, a dusting of snow drifted down on our roof & ground today. I was so pleased for snow while listening again to your song. :)

I'm humbly grateful for the gift that is my present life.

As for my history, it shall never be forgotten. 

**This post is dedicated to all who have 

experienced the pains of loss. 

I wish you peace as you 

walk this difficult journey and find your new life 

carrying your loved one in your heart.**

"Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight" (Gibran, 1923).

A Poet and Didn't Know It

I'd like you to meet my Dad.

His life has been simple but packed full of experience. Most of my life I knew he was an amateur Astronomer. My Dad doesn't have a framed University degree or College diploma hanging from his wall but has boxes of 75 years of life experience hidden somewhere from my Mum so she doesn't throw it out mistaking them as "junk".

It was my amateur astronomer Dad that introduced me to Halley's comet when I was a young child. He taught me that Miss Halley doesn't grace our skies with her presence very often and my Dad wouldn't be alive anymore the next time she comes around. However, I may still be alive to see her again as well as my children and maybe even my grandchildren would be able to catch a glimpse of her when she visits again.

That's what my Dad shared with me on that chilly night where I caught a brief look of Miss Halley's speckled tail through a fellow amateur astronomer's telescope. From my childish perspective, the fuss surrounding the event seemed greater than what I viewed through the telescope but it stuck with me. I can still see my Dad peeling over the newspaper articles of her every space move. I can almost smell the chilled air of that evening of our viewing and my Dad's excitement over the entire time period that Miss Halley visited. It's still a palpable memory, even after 28 years.

It was no surprise to me when my Dad began planning his trip to view the full eclipse of the sun that would be celebrated around Cairns, Australia in 2012. If I remember correctly, he called to ask me to help him research some information "on the line" in 2011. Why Australia, Dad? Because it was expected to be the best place in the world to catch a front row view of the eclipse - as long as they're no clouds in the sky that day. That was a risk my Dad was willing to take for this monumental event. Nothing that I said about travelling alone at his ripe age of 73 would convince him from taking a detour onto the comforts of the internet to view this eclipse. He was going to be there in person and continued making his plans and I began the prayers in my heart that there would be a clear sky for my Dad to view the solar eclipse in Port Douglas, Australia (close to Cairns).

Almost two years after his return home, Dad wanted to put together his photos of his trip in a scrap book of some kind. I told my Dad that I would be happy to make a book for him of his experience but thought that it would be nice if he could put together a summary of his trip to go along with his pictures.

I did't know what to expect when my Dad handed me the summary of his experience. I can tell you that I didn't expect to be that little girl watching Halley's comet all over again with the eyes of a mature adult that could recognize the brilliance and wisdom of my Father within his own words. My Dad!

I'm very excited to share with you the beautiful account of my Dad's trip to Port Douglas, Australia on November 14th, 2012 along 4 Mile Beach. The following account is in his own words along with photos taken with his disposable camera...

November 14th, 2012

Full Eclipse of the Sun from Port Douglas, Australia

At 3:30AM November 14th, 2012, 

I awake in my motel room. 

I start my walk to four mile beach in complete darkness 

for approximately 12-15 minutes. 

I arrive at 5:00AM. 

Many people have now gathered on the beach and 

are awaiting sunrise at 5:36am. 

First contact occurs at 5:44am.

The eastern sky is very cloudy 

the sun is only 20% visible than 

cloud moved into 60% visibility 

as the moon's shadow progressed into the sun.

As the minutes went by, 

visibility increased to 85%, 90%, 95%, 98%,

then a flash, a very bright light occurs 

and the sun is 100% covered by the moon's shadow

and we are in complete darkness for 2 minutes and 3 seconds.

Full and total eclipse of the sun has occurred.

I look up and view planet venus and some star's overhead 

- just as I had seen at 5:00am,

when it was completely dark, 

when I first arrived at the beach.

As the moon's shadow begins to leave the sun,

after 123 seconds, 

once again daylight emerges than by 6:30am or so.

It's daylight and the sun was all visible and back to normal 

as the earth traveled east and the sun rose higher into the sky.

I then walked slowly back to my motel room.

For the remainder of the day 

I was excited as the action of a stimulant on an organ of the body or of a plant.

"Just a menu on the sidewalk
in 
Port Douglas town."

"Just a minute before full eclipse of the sun."

"Full eclipse of the sun.

It's now complete darkness for a few minutes."

"Complete darkness when the moon completely 

covers the sun."

"It's now almost back to daylight after full eclipse of the sun."

Enjoy a peek of the Solar eclipse on 4 mile beach in 2012 via Youtube.

The above poses that my Dad strikes are pretty classic of his character. I now look at them with new, mature and informed eyes versus rolled eyes of annoyance or embarrassment.

I now look at my Dad in the above pictures and appropriately recall the song,

"Stayin' Alive!"

Scary Throwback

Time flies when you're having fun, 

sometimes, 

it's scary how fast.

Our oldest is almost 13 years old.

He's handing out candy instead of going out for Halloween this year.

When my kids were babies, everyone said,

"enjoy every minute as it goes by so fast."

Those sleepless nights seemed to prove them wrong

but those people were right.

Here's a walk down our Halloween Lane...

You will notice a strong theme as the years go by.

My André is the Halloween Master!

Halloween is a great time for full sensory discovery.

For me, it was a fabulous Educational exploration. I LOVED watching the kids take it all in.

Yvon's bus (which opened at the front to collect candy) was whipped up by André.

It's a memory fave as Yvon was pretty stoked to collect his candy.

Did you notice my Canadian Olympian?

André won a few Gold medals in making Halloween happen in our house!

To be honest, Halloween stresses me right out.

What will everyone wear?
The pumpkins, the mess, the clean-up, the costumes,
the candy, the tantrums (take a close-up of Melaia in-between the piano pics above),
the sugar rushes, the craziness.

We have three Halloween traditions in my home:

#1. I threaten to cancel Halloween
#2. André makes Halloween happen 
#3. I fall in Love with my husband & Halloween every year.

The kids have a blast.
The whole community comes alive & comes together in pure fun.
Memories are made & cherished.

I hope you also had a most delightful Halloween celebration with your loved ones.

Don't cancel it. Enjoy the smiles & celebration of community!

Happy Halloween!