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Queenheroical’s 100 Things …then

I promise I won’t spend all my time telling you about myself – I’m not that interesting.  However, as a new blogger I constructed this list of 100 things – it was a meme I saw on other blogs and I thought it was a good way to introduce myself to the bloggy world.  There is much in it that holds true, there are indisputable facts … but it also reveals much about my younger self.   I wanted you to know that younger me a little better since “she” and I are a part of this blog.   Without further adieu —

 I have lived

1. … in a geodesic dome with hexagonal skylights, a pot belly stove, a thunder bucket and kerosene lamps.

2. … in an old milk house with a dirt floor, metal beams for doing gymnastics, and curtains for walls.

3. … in 5 bedroom historical home on 50 acres with a 12 stall horse barn, Olympic sized riding arena, and a pony to ride.

4. … in 12 different homes and in 5 different towns before I was 13 years old.

5. … in coastal rainforest, semi-arid desert country, on an island, and in the middle of nowhere all within British Columbia, Canada.

6. … with a brother, a sister, and a brother.

7. … with a brother, a sister, a brother and twin step-brothers.

8. … with a brother, a sister, a brother, two live-in sisters and a live-in brother.

9. … with a sister, a brother, twin goats and a pet turkey (her name was Gladys).

10. … all by myself in the big city.

I have witnessed

11. … tears of joy fall from my love’s eyes, just because.

12. … the squashed up, puffy, perfect faces of each of my newborn babes born healthy, happy, and whole.

13. … my dearest friend and my dearest sister give birth and welcome beautiful babies to the world.

14. … the lifeless shell left behind after a person dies.

15. … my father married, twice.

16. … my mother in the psych ward, twice (not related to # 15)

17. … cocaine snorted up with 20 dollar bills, (for the record; not into my nose).

18. … the tell-tale spotting that comes before the heartbreak of a lost baby.

19. … whales in the open ocean, wild grizzly bears, orcas at play amid gulf islands, eagles snatching salmon from rivers, wolves, beavers, porcupines, elk, deer, birds singing outside my window and taken it for granted because I live in an amazing country.

20. … moments of God’s infinite grace, mercy, love, care, and humour.

I have heard

21. … the power of conviction in his voice as he echoed the words “I do” “I will”

22. … the clarity of my own voice as I spoke the words “I do” and “I will”

23. … my grandmother’s 90 year old voice cheer me up from the opposite side of the country.

24. … my daughters giggle and talk in secretive tones after bedtime.

25. … myself yell too loud, too often, for no good reason.

26. … my name called among the graduates, three times.

27. … a mother’s anguish upon learning of the death of her grown child.

28. … each of my children call for me in the night.

29. … the deep tones of his voice and the gentle strumming of his guitar as he sings the children to sleep.

30. …the chatter amongst a pack of wolves while hiking through their territory, in the pitch back of night.

I have lost

31. … my father to pancreatic cancer, he was 55, I was 23, it seemed too early.

32. … my first baby to miscarriage, my baby Jordan, my gift.

33. … my step-father, my parent, to alcoholism, to bitterness, to his own devices.

34. … a brother-in-law beneath a wall, he was 24 … it really seemed too early.

35. … my expectations of what motherhood, what wifehood, what personhood is all about.

36. … my temper at others maybe five times; at my children far more than I ever imagined I could.

37. … patience with my own self-absorption.

38. … some of my past blindness, attitudes and opinions as regards the “way” things and people should be.

39. … the ability to get pregnant, (my choice.)

40. … out on things because I have been afraid.

I have found

41. … a love more gripping, more heart wrenching, more exquisite than I knew was possible.

42. … being a mother is much harder than I thought it would be.

43. … I believe in Christ, despite an upbringing to the contrary.

44. … being a mother is much richer and complex than I had imagined.

45. … I possess a deep, powerful, fearsome protectiveness for my family.

46. … being a mother is the most inspiring motivator in my life.

47. … fear only keeps you down.

48. … being a mother is the most natural, most unsettling, most oppressive, most joyful, most terrifying thing I could ever dream of doing.

49. … making friends more difficult than finding a good doctor.

50. … I would not give up being who and what I am, or him, or Him.

I love

51. … God, His son, and His spirit.

52. …. him.

53. … them.

54. … me, kind of, some bits, sort of, some of the time … well I’m working on it.

55. … singing and dancing like a fool, especially with them.

56. … a great Scrabble word.

57. … rich chocolate ice cream, preferably with nuts.

58. … long conversations in bed with him.

59. … the spell of a good book.

60. … watching them sleep.

I can

61. … touch my nose with my tongue.

62. … sew a jean quilt (but let’s just keep that between us.)

63. … talk on the phone while folding laundry, answering five “very important” questions, and keeping a toddler from … well everything.

64. … make a yummy tuna casserole, homemade bagels, humus, and a hearty soup.

65. … count the number of great friends I have on one hand.

66. … make something out of just about nothing (literally that is not emotionally.)

67. … sing along to Bob Marley, The Beatles, Simon & Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, Queen, the Rolling Stones, Steve Miller Band, Fleetwood Mac, The Doors, Shirley Temple, The Eagles, The Beach Boys, the Big Bopper, Nat King Cole, Mahalia Jackson, Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, 10CC, Michael W. Smith, Third Day, Audio Adrenalin, Sarah McLachlan, Willie Nelson, Shania Twain, Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, The Nylons, Holly Cole, India Arie, Jars of Clay, and Bob & Larry.

68. … flip my tongue sideways. Yes, I’ve got tongue skills.

69. … quote Mary Poppins, anyone in The Princess Bride, Homer (Simpson that is), The Paperbag Princess, Dr. Seuss, the Oompa Loompas, Cpt. Picard, Smeagol, Elizabeth Bennett, and Einstein.

70. … pick things up with my toes.

I loath

71. … shallow conversation.

72. … olives, except in tapanade.

73. … medical professionals who feel they must comment on my birth control choices.

74. … being told “Oh, you finally got your boy,”… yah, my two middle daughters were a real disappointment, so we “had” to keep trying.

75. … thinking of a snappy comeback 5 minutes after it was needed.

76. … knowing I interrupt too much and don’t listen as well as I thought I did.

77. … my inability to take criticism well.

78. … strong alcohol breath.

79. … not having enough time to do everything I want to do.

80. …and not doing the things I want to do even when I have the time.

I hope

81. … they forgive me my mistakes.

82. … they relish the dancing.

83… when he grows old he will still give me “the look.”

84. … his eyes work well enough to still give me “the look.”

85. … my eyes work well enough to see he is giving me “the look.”

86. … they grow up, happy, confident, and a little crazy.

87. … to wander the halls of the Louvre with him.

88. … to spy elephants and giraffes out on the open African plains.

89. … to find my voice and something worthwhile to say.

90. … to hear my Savior say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

I am trying

91. … to yell less.

92. … to listen more.

93. … to find a better way to be me, to be mum, to be his.

94. … to love people practically.

95. … to live my faith.

96. … to finish this list.

97. … to prefect the “greatest-bread-machine-recipe-ever.”

98. … to inspire them to live free of fear.

99. … to accept that he gives me “the look” because he loves me (silly boy).

100. I am trying.

from:  Queenheroical’s 100 Things   August 16, 2006

 

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If you were wondering…

imageI’m also not going to tell her-or you-or anybody that my way was/is the right way.

This marriage, parenting, educating, living gig is tough: it is long hours, and big choices, and the constant juggling of many needs, wants, desires, and wishes.

It is a workout of the heart and mind and soul … mostly for the good of other people.

I, in no way, feel that I know best as regards those hours, or those choices.

I am not a marriage expert, parenting guru, home educating master, or life coach.

I am Krina – walking through these days with the memories of this life and the experiences I am given headed toward a future yet undetermined.

Just in case you were wondering…

What this blog is for me: Bottles out on the Ocean

August 2006 Kids aged 1-5
Reading Train –all aboard!

THEN: August 4,2006

“I have been thinking a lot about what one (that one being me) writes about on a blog. Is it a journal? Is it a conversation? Is it an anonymous exercise of hide and seek for the soul? It brings to mind millions of bottles floating out on an ocean of ideas, desires, interests hoping to find a safer harbour.” I think it is going to be very much about me, my thoughts, my struggles, my need to articulate the conflicting feelings I have about my life as such.

It seems the rest of my life is so filled with the needs of others and yet somehow I seem to smear it all with my me-ness, maybe there is too much me going around, and spilling over the edges which is tainting all the rest and this is a way of pouring it out in a less “yelling-my-head-off” kind of way.

Excerpts from: What this blog is to me

Again: July 21, 2015

I like that line: “It brings to mind millions of bottles floating out on an ocean.”

Isn’t that what we all are essentially – little bottles floating about filled with messages of want, need, desire, hope, loss, anger, frustration – all hoping to be found, to be pick, and to be heard. I feel like I am bobbing along wanting to be heard, to be seen, to be picked and welcomed.

There is risk involved in this – risk in being not picked, not heard, rejected or worse ridiculed. I fear these things and have consequently kept myself to myself, all neat and safe.

But here I am again feeling compelled to throw my little bottles out on the ocean to see who might find them, who might be in need of those little messages, who might find understanding, acceptance, and who might echo back to me the messages I need in return.

Also:  I hear the fear and frustration in my previous words – struggles, conflicting, taint, edges, yelling – and I want to reach back and reassure her, that other me, and help her to look around and see the good happening at her feet, to feel the love which hums all around her, to help her live in the moment. I believe I often did  but I think I also let fret and worry “taint” it.

I won’t tell her that she will one day miss it, time will do what it does without my cursing it before it happens. I do miss those little hands, those full-bodied hugs which turned into 20 minute snuggles on the couch – four sets of elbows and knees, legs and arms, bodies, voices clamouring at me at once. I long to hold their little faces in my hands, to swing them up onto a hip and dance around the living room. I am forever in “her” debt that she took the time to do that – I live on those memories. They will feed the empty lap years I have ahead.

So I will not tell her that, I will thank her and hug her and tell her she can do this – well. And they will be happy and they will forgive, she will forgive. She can and will find her core and it will thrive.  I want her to know.

That is what this blog is for me…now.

Queenheroical’s Realm Update

THEN:  August 2, 2006

Out goes the welcome mat into Queenheroical’s realm, no need for formalities, mine is relaxed and casual queendom, pardon the toys strewn about I am certain (cough, cough) one of my small heirs will be along to put those away. You will soon meet them all; Kingheroical is hard at work in his basement lair doing whatever it he does to bring home the fatted calf, or at least the pizza.

It is a crowded little domain and perhaps not the most prosperous but I call it home complete with its joys, heartaches, utter chaos, piles of laundry, stacks of books, etc. Please forgive me if I raise my voice once and a while, if I rant on without hearing you at times, offend your: politics, religion, or parenting sensibilities, or if I just stay quiet for periods of times, I am growing. I haven’t quite found all it takes to fit these shoes I find myself in, not sure I ever will but I am working on it.

Oh, ya, please make yourself at home. I am a lousy host, the cups are there on the self, there is water, juice, milk, pop in the fridge and I can make you tea or coffee if you ask, please ask I always forget to offer. The bathroom is by the front door. I think that about does it.

from – Testing, testing, one two three  My very first blog post …ever!

Again:  July 19, 2015

WHOA – 9 years is a long time -In that time this here realm has been relocated to the top of a hill, so watch yourself on the steep driveway.  I am now the purveyor of wider vistas – looking out over mountains, community, clouds and sky.  However much is the same, this is still a relaxed domain, we don’t stand on formalities, all are welcome, as our realm’s poet laureate said best:

Invitation-shel-silverstein-8610209-353-450
Shel Silverstein: Where the Sidewalk Ends

There are a lot of big shoes lying around so just push those aside and come on upstairs.  Pardon the piles of books, paper, and such – this is a busy place of learning, doing, making, and serving.  If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask one of my big kids to help out – they are usually eager to assist.

Kingheroical may be in, but it is likely he is at his second story office loft  overseeing his business and employees along with his business partner and brother in law- a venture of joint realms.  Yes, much grows in 9 years, did I mention the big feet, tall children, grey hairs … yes, it is getting harder and harder to see over heads around here.  My tots are now tweens and teens – and we are most often building bridges and roads into new and exciting lands beyond our little castle.  (Sigh)

There is plenty of tea and coffee in the cupboard, cold water from the tap, and milk.  So come in and choose a mug from the shelf and join me on the deck for a chat.  We have years to talk about and “flax-golden tales to spin.”  Come in.  Come in.

Who is Queenheroical?

2015-05-20 13.40.07Who is Queenheroical?  My other name is Krina:  I am married, I am a mother of four, I have been home educating my kids for 10 years,  I like to read, write, and make things.  All of which sounds like about 25 bajillion other bloggers, give or take a few jillion.  I love poetry and words and colour and paint and thread.  I’m messy and unstructured. I love to watch clouds and sunlight and birds and even bugs.  I wish I could go to any art gallery I wanted to whenever I wanted to for as long as I needed.  I love to watch people – to see them happy, at play, even sad. But angry people upset me. I shall sum up with:  I am an introverted watcher who cares deeply but won’t show it directly, except perhaps in written words.  I believe in the Bible, I follow Jesus and I love people – all the flawed, imperfect, and fellow people.

Queenheroical: Thenandagain … introspection in retrospect

Then:  June 2006
Then: June 2006

I was reading over the blog I started back in 2006, Queenheroical, listening to the voice of a woman 9 years younger, new to homeschooling, and very much in the thick of raising four littles between the ages of 1 and 5.  Her voice struck a chord, a deep one, often a rich one, but one which can sound lonely and unfinished – a note hanging – waiting for a response.  All good music is said to be a dialogue so I thought I might go back through her words and add a second voice, one more aged -I would say mature but I think in some ways she has me beat- but certainly one which can look back with the same eyes and see things differently in a new light.

Is it weird to be talking about myself like I’m another person?  I feel like a different person in many ways but I suspect I am much the same.  This is my experiment to find out.

Now: April 2015  Photo Credit:  Sunbeams and Freckles Photography, Peggy Knaak
Now: April 2015
Photo Credit: Sunbeams and Freckles Photography, Peggy Knaak

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