Christmas, Inuit Art and PMS

The weather here has been pretty mild at -9. We've had a bit of snow in the past few days and after reading some of the blogs we follow we are pretty lucky with these mild temperatures. Though I have found myself missing home lately. Especially at this time of year with the back to back commercials reminding us soon Santa will be here, the colourful strings of lights hanging in windows and that feeling that I want to decorate my tree. So yesterday I had a bit of a cry and called my father. My Dad couldn't understand what I was saying and got me to calm down and take big breaths and I was finally able to tell him I was having a bad day. Special K and I are different in the way of friends and family. I'm attached and need the emotional talking bonding feeling ways of those relationships. He doesn't need that from his. So when I start missing mine he doesn't get it or he takes a weird approach that I can't even explain. Anyways Christmas when I was growing up was a big deal, not in a religious sense more in a family dinner everyone gets together way. It was a big deal and my family went overboard on me every year. Since my parents aren't together I'd wake up at one house do the stocking thing, have breakfast, open presents and then go do it again at my other parents house. This would usually happen in the evenings as well I'd go and be with one side of the family then I'd go to my other side. I was spoiled completely rotten. I was lucky. Towards my teens my moms side moved to Kelowna and around that same time my other Grandmother was in the mid stages of alzheimers disease. Soon after mom moved to Japan, Dad worked Christmas and I was lucky to have friends like Kas, Dar, Andy and Kari let me crash their family Christmas parties. So no matter what I've always had that Christmas feeling on Christmas day. So yesterday with the daylight lacking and PMS in full throttle I had a big cry fest. Special K didn't apparently grow up with the kind of Christmas spirit that I did so he honestly doesn't get it so it was hard for him to be symathetic and thats why I had to call my Dad and got me over the feeling sorry for myself stint I was on. So yeah I'm all good now and some things you have to sacrifice and these are one of em. I miss my Salamagundi stocking stuffer store in Gastown. An old antique store with a basement full of old chinese medicine cabinets filled with different trinkets from funny as hell stuff to beautiful ornaments to just damn strange. I was about to say I miss the shopping but really as I think the one thing I really hated was the line ups and the busy overcrowded malls so I won't even go there. We thought we'd find some inuit art to send home for Christmas here and off we went to the Christmas bazaar which happened to basically be a bunch of white people selling stuff. I picked up a few things and K was like ummm thats says made in China on it....so yeah. The next time the door to door guy comes I'll take a look at his stuff. I grew up with a mother who collected inuit art and as a child the paintings were scary to me. I didn't understand why my Mom liked them. This group of 3 paintings done by the same artist had owls and different birds that had these dark freaky looks in their eyes. I really didn't like them and I actually remember asking my mom why she liked them and that they were weird and she should take them down off the wall. The same went for the sculptures, but things have changed and now even I'am liking the darkness that some of the sculptures show. Still not liking that kind of art that my mom had hanging up. Freaky looking bird, actually the more I think about it the person who painted it may have been trying out some of the good ole acid of the 60's and 70's, as I speak to a friend on the phone now she just referred to one of the paintings as the acid trip owl. Oh there goes the daily siren marking noon. Anyone remember the airhorns in North Van they put in for the cold war? They lined up and down keith road...they took them down 15 years or so ago but its the same chilling sound of a war siren and it reminds me of when they'd test them when I was a kid. Awful sound. So I wrote my mom this morning asking her to bring bonsai supplies back this spring, as I've decided to learn about bonsai plants and actually take the time in cultivating one. I miss my garden big time. I also miss my neighbours Nikee and the kids. Its funny I actually miss hearing her two youngest practice playing whatever brass instrument that was that they attempted playing. I also miss hearing the girls stories from elementary school and miss b.s'ing with my best neighbour ever, Nikee. I do like it here but I do look forward to spending some time in my backyard listening to those waves crashing against the bluff. Can't wait.