Kim Hanson

Writing & Quilting

Avoid the Chasm of Chaos

| 7 Comments

Good day everyone. At my tender age of 66, I still feel as if life can be filled with chaos. There are always appointments to attend, groceries to buy and people to see. I feel an urge sometimes to isolate – to concentrate only on writing or quilting or home improvements. After all, I am an introvert that truly enjoys spending time alone. . . I get energy from doing that.

But, I also realize the need to be out and about in the world; to be with my grandchildren, to see family and friends, to attend yoga classes, to spend time with my aging Dad. These things stave off chaos in my world and instead, bring me order and calm. These things bring me joy. It’s ever so important to find your path to joy and revel in it.

 

A Sweet Gift of Time

When the family doctor rescinded my 80-year old Dad’s driver’s license, my siblings and I were overjoyed. I know that sounds cruel, but his GP did our family a great service. Dad’s mild dementia had become an issue and his eye sight was failing. We were ever so grateful to have him off the road.

Dad walking the 8th Avenue mall circa 1935

Since Dad is a stickler for the rules, he didn’t even try to drive his vehicle after his license was revoked. But that doesn’t mean he held back.

“I know that doctor has me mixed up with someone else,” he’d say over and over again. “Why did he take away my license? I’m fine to drive! I’m going to find another doctor who’ll give it back to me!”

Mercifully, he never followed through.

Like most people who have driven for many years, Dad’s life changed dramatically. No longer could he pick up and go wherever he wanted. No longer could he drive into the “office” even though he hadn’t really work there for years. No longer could he attend Calgary Flames games in person or go to his typical pregame meal at Boston Pizza. It was a difficult transition for him.

Dad lived with my elderly mom and middle-aged brother (their caretaker) in a home they’d owned for more than 30 years. When prostate cancer struck in 2014, for the first time in his life, Dad had to rely on someone else to ferry him about. That someone else was me.

Growing up, Dad was my advocate. . . his love and tender care had always seen me through difficult times as a child. He is a generous soul and was there for me whenever I needed him. But, our relationship lay on the surface of things; we didn’t delve into sensitive topics or discuss emotions or feelings. Even deep into my adulthood, we stuck to fluffy conversations about my children, grandchildren or sports – he and I can analyze a game for hours!

I began keeping track of and driving him to all his medical appointments, and in the initial stages of his diagnosis, there were many. He required hormone injections to keep the cancer at bay, regular trips to the lab for blood work to check on his PSA, and monthly CT and bone scans to check on the progress of his cancer. As a reminder, I called or texted him the day before a medical appointment. When I arrived on his doorstep, he was always ready to go, dressed in his “Sunday best”.

One morning, he had an appointment for a CT Scan in a neighbouring town. It was a long drive so we got an early start. Travelling in a south-easterly direction, along a major highway, a noisy freight train rumbled by on tracks running parallel to the road. Its presence tweaked something in my Dad’s mind, and he began to regale me with stories from his youth; stories I had never heard before. He told me how he and his brothers used to hang out at the CN rail yard. . . how they would take turns hiding from security in empty rail cars. He told me how they would play football in the off-limits, fenced yard adjacent to the train station and how they’d pick up wrapped candy that lay on the tracks, left behind by a shipment burst open in transit. He and his brothers were chased from the rail yard by the CN Police on an almost daily basis. As the sun rose over the horizon, I saw my Dad in a different light. His humanity came shining through.

He and I added a weekly lunch date to the routine of doctor appointments. On Mondays, we headed for the neighbourhood mall; always the same place, the familiarity of which made him feel safe. The benefits were twofold: Dad got some much needed exercise walking the corridors of the mall and I got to hear more of his stories. We’d order from A&W or Subway or have Chinese food. As we ate, he naturally carried on telling me more and more about his mom and his dad and his brothers and sisters. He told me he had to quit school in grade 11 to help support his huge family – after all, there were twelve of them! Being with him, wherever or whenever was a gift. . . it was a sweet gift of time.

Mom passed away in 2019. My parents had been married 65 years, so it was a huge adjustment for Dad to live without her. His prostate cancer spread to his back, but so far at his age of 90 years, it’s growth has halted. At each visit, his oncologist is amazed by Dad’s resiliency and his ability to keep going, no matter what.

I’ve been blessed. I’ve had both the time and the opportunity to glean a deeper, richer understanding of who my Dad really is. I’m connected to him now in a way I wasn’t before. For that, I’m forever grateful.

Talk again soon.

Kim

Trapped and Tangled Loon

| 7 Comments

Good day everyone. It has been a very long, long time since my last post. I have been writing mainly, taking classes, taking photos, getting my garden growing, with some quilting on the side. Also, my Dad has been hospitalized yet again; I can’t remember if it’s been three times or four times during Covid. . . it’s been a lot for both him and for his family.

I was so excited to have my very first children’s story published in the American children’s magazine, Cricket. My story, “Trapped and Tangled Loon’ was included in their April, 2022 issue.

April 2022 Issue of Cricket magazine

It’s a story about two boys at Police Outpost Lake (near Waterton, Alberta) who help to free a loon who has become tangled in fishing line.

I must admit I was thrilled. 

Here’s hoping there’s more children’s stories, worthy of publication, in my future.

Insofar as quilting is concerned, I’m getting myself better organized. I’ve sold some of my “stash” fabrics online and will likely continue to sell some more. I really have too many fabrics and can’t see my way through them all. I’ve been working on two children’s bunk bed quilts – one of which will be featured in Quilter’s World magazine in the Spring.

My blogging will be on a much more regular basis now. Thank you all so much.

Kim

The Birth Place Forest of Silver Springs

| 5 Comments

Good day everyone. I wrote this piece for Woods Reader, a beautiful, inspiring publication based in Spring Lake, Minnesota. It can be found in their Winter 2020/2021 issue.

 

The grassy green field was alive with energy and vitality. School children, in groups of five or so, squealed with delight taking turns kicking the black and white soccer ball. Dogs barked; their owners allowing them freedom to run and play. The rush of four lanes of traffic roared by, leading in and out of the neighbourhood. Yet, the instant I stepped onto the spongy path of the Birth Place Forest, all outside sound was muffled. I was embraced, instead, by the sounds of nature.

 

Two prodigious things happened in the year 2002. First, our tiny, healthy, precious grandson, Jacob was born. Second, spawned from the creative minds of community-conscious individuals at BP Canada Energy Group, Calgary Parks/Regional Health and Golden Acres Garden Centre, the Birth Place Forest of Silver Springs was also born. The urban oasis took root on some land originally set aside as a roadway allowance or potential right-of-way. As each baby was born in Calgary, a tiny, healthy, significant tree was planted. Poplar, pine, ash, aspen, bur oak, spruce and Brandon elm began to stake-out their territory. . . roots traversing deep into the soil, establishing new life. The goals of the Birth Place Forest program were simple. To educate, to establish pride and ownership through connection and to form a deep abiding legacy to the trees planted in the urban forest.

Years passed by. Jacob grew. A visit to his tree became an adventure for us. He rode his bike to the Birth Place Forest while I walked alongside. He always rode ahead – so excited to reach our destination.

“Grandma!” he’d shout. “Hurry. Catch up. We’ve still got a long ways to go.”

We always easily found his green ash tree, right where the map led us. Jacob, upon arriving, would drop his bike on the ground and stand beside his tree or duck under his tree or lay on the ground beside his tree.

“Look how big it’s getting Grandma!” he’d say as I snapped a photo.

“Yes, and look how big you are getting my sweet boy!”

We would sit on the cedar bark cushion beside the ash tree and talk, all the while having a snack of juice and cheese and crackers. The perfect picnic.

The Birth Place Forest in Silver Springs grew in unison. The mass of trees began to stretch high into the sky, offering sanctuary and refuge to all the wildlife in the neighbourhood. On hot summer days, the forest was like slurping a popsicle; cool and delicious. In the chilly winter months, the trees seemed to huddle together, offering shelter from the cold, harsh, north winds. But it’s best foot forward came in the fall, when the leaves changed from sage green to amber and golden and glorious.

Calgary, with extraordinary prescience, created nine Birth Place Forests in different neighbourhoods around the city – the first of its kind in Canada. Planting trees began in 2001 and continued until 2009 when planting ceased due to a dearth of suitable land and a sudden lack of funding.

“We require about five hectares of land to plant the trees and we need a site that can accommodate at least 3,000 families. Those sites can be hard to find,” said the city’s urban forestry coordinator.

But in those nine years, the City of Calgary planted 62,000 life-affirming new trees.

Silver Springs volunteers have taken over maintenance and management of the Birth Place Forest, ensuring care continuity. Botanical gardens were created and abut the forest, together stretching over 20 acres of land. Strolling the paths is a spiritual antidote to the stress and chaos in our lives.

“I grew up in a forest. It’s like a room. It’s protected. Like a cathedral… it is a place between
heaven and earth.”
― Anselm Kiefer

Jacob is turning 19 years of age soon. So is his green ash tree. Both are tall, strong and purposeful. He doesn’t visit the Birth Place Forest often, but I do. I walk the paths, revel in the sounds of nature and sit on the bench to collect my thoughts or write in my journal.

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”
— John Muir


 

It’s a space and a place of peace. I reminisce about my sweet grandson, the wonder pooling in his eyes and the excitement spilling out of every pore. Here in the Birth Place Forest, my connection to Jacob is palpable. Here in the Birth Place Forest there is a deep, abiding legacy to the trees that surround me. Here is nature at its very best.

A Daily Ritual

| 3 Comments

Good day everyone. Thank you to all those amazing souls who continue to read my posts. I so appreciate you all taking the time to read my words and to leave your comments. I feel so blessed to have you all here.

While thinking about my son, Mike, the other day instead of feeling so sad, I thought of ways to make my days better.

I came up with three things. I call them my Daily Triple Agenda. (DTA for short).

First, I try to learn something new every day. If I can’t actually learn something new, then I try something new. This idea can prove overwhelming or utterly daunting, but approach it simply. Switching up your daily routine, finding the motivation to tackle an assignment that has stalled or prepare a meal you’ve never made before can all put a checkmark in this box. Basic, simple things like getting your tea at Starbucks instead of Tims. Drive a different route home. Pick up your mail in the afternoon instead of the evening. It’s easy to tweak daily tasks you’ve been doing forever.

Last week, I had some housekeeping duties to perform on my website. In order to set-up an easily accessible online portfolio for prospective editors to access, I had to load up all my published articles to my press page. A web designer had prepared a step-by-step tutorial for me that he sent ages ago. I just left it sitting in my mailbox. I dreaded jumping into this one!

But to be true to my DTA, I took a deep breath and clicked on the link to the tutorial. To my surprise (and delight), the steps in the tutorial were not that difficult to follow! I was astounded and wondered why I had waited so long to tackle this job. Converting all my docs to pdfs, uploading them to my website and choosing a “featured image” was about all there was to it. The result is here. (click on the writing sub-category)

So now when I query an editor, I can point them in the direction of my press page and not have to enumerate what writing I’ve had published. I considered this challenge a win/win. I know this job would still be incomplete if it wasn’t for my DTA.

Second, focus daily on gratitude. I know this comes up a lot these days. But I’m mindfully paying attention to all that I have surrounding me. Sometimes I write down what I’m grateful for. Sometimes I just sit outside in the backyard with my cup of tea and think about what I’m grateful for. Sometimes I think about gratitude at night just before I fall asleep (if I fall asleep!). Again, this one is very simple. Choose to remember three things in your life that bring a smile to your face and a glow to your heart. Your garden, your friend, your pet. Your health, your home, your grandchildren. Having had Mike for 38 years.

Third, I’ve become more conscious of telling at least one person a day that I love them. If I forget during the day, I can always tell my little dog, Sophie, that I love her! Perhaps not a great substitute for a live human being but I do it anyways.

Keeping my DTA in mind has improved my life. Sure, I still concentrate heavily on getting my to-do list complete, but now I take the time to be sure I’ve also factored in my DTA. Somehow, someway doing three simple things a day makes life better, enhances my feelings of well-being and boosts my levels of happiness in the midst of all the chaos.

So, please feel free to steal my DTA or make up your own.

Thanks everyone. Take care.

 

Kim

Death of a Dream?

| 8 Comments

As many of you know, I’ve longed for a backyard writing shed for years. I’ve had a recurring dream since my 30’s of a peaceful, tranquil, creative space, all my own.

I visualized a little cottage-type shed, with white shiplap on the peaked ceilings and gauzy curtains blowing in the gentle breeze. My magical space had a built-in bookcase on the back wall, a comfy chair and-a-half tucked into one corner and my desk positioned in the center. Funny thing was that the little shed stood in the middle of the woods, in a beautiful, green-grassed meadow. Obviously, my dream embellished my backyard just a smidge!

I’ve coveted she-sheds of all shapes and sizes. I’ve coveted old sheds and new sheds. I even have a board for them all on Pinterest.

Some of my very favourites:

 

So, so, beautiful, right?

My dream writing space has always represented something tangible to me; a creative place where the words would flow naturally from my brain, to my hand, onto the page. They would flow so easily.

Now, in my 60’s, I still poke around online, looking for that perfect little she-shed. As luck would it, I found one! If it wasn’t perfect, it was near perfect.

Isn’t that cute? Someone was selling this little gem. I loved the tiny wooden porch, the outdoor lights and the scuffed-up door. I was pretty excited, and bonus: we wouldn’t even have to build it! It was already insulated, wired and ready to go. It was a good size – 8′ x 12′ and was located fairly close to our home. Movers were ready and available to move it to my backyard right away. Sounds perfect?

I thought about it for at least a week. I looked at the online photos of the shed every day, inside and outside. I went out into our backyard with my tape measure and paced out the size. Then, I did it again and again. Coming back into the house, I walked down the steps into my basement studio. Taking stock of everything I already had available to me. . . the light and space and comfort I had access to. . . I decided against purchasing this little, sweet, shed.

For days, it felt like “my dream was dead”. After all those years of thinking about my own little workspace, it was so hard to drop it. But, I realized this dream of mine had surfaced long ago, when our kids were young and space was at a premium in our home. I also realized there was no magical place where words would flow easily. Writing is not easy – it’s hard – no matter where you hang your hat.

In my home studio, I have space for my fabrics, my files and my desk. I have storage for scrapbooking supplies and finished photo books. It’s a warm and cozy space in the winter and cool and comfortable in the summer. I do have peace and quiet to write and quilt.

Things change. Life circumstances, mindsets and dreams all change.

My new dream is that I will become an (older!) published book author. Better late than never.

Kim