THAT WORD "CAN'T"

My grandmother had a saying for everything, and one of her favourites (at least, one I heard often) was “Can’t is a sluggard too lazy to work”. Telling her “I can’t…” was, in her mind, an excuse, or an unwillingness to try. It never worked. Unless we could prove beyond a doubt that whatever we were trying to avoid doing was physically impossible, she would not accept the little word ‘can’t”. Laziness was on the top of her list of vices; right up there with telling lies or taking the Lord’s name in vain. Because of this, we (my brother and I) learned very young that many things we thought were impossible were indeed do-able. Even more important, we realized that one does not shirk a task, whether physical or emotional, because it is unpleasant. One bites the bullet and does one’s best to get it done. It is a lesson that has stood me in good stead more than once.

We had no running water on the farm, therefore there was no need for sewers. The dishes were done in a deep pan, and the water was then carried a little distance into the back field and thrown onto the ground. My brother had mentioned seeing a long, green garter snake in the same area, so I always looked for something else to do, usually with success, when it came time to throw out the dishwater. For some reason, even knowing they were harmless, those slithering reptiles petrified me…they still do.

It was inevitable that my turn to empty the pan would arrive. My whining “I can’t…there’s a snake out there” did me absolutely no good at all! In those days, it was unthinkable for a child to refuse heeding orders. You did what you were told. I picked up the pan and, paying more attention to where I was walking than to the water slopping over the edges, I began to goose-step my way out into the field. Sure enough, I met the snake. In fact, I nearly put my foot right on it. I screamed…and kept screaming. The pan became a missile; it and the water it contained went flying through the air. I imagine the dance I did strongly resembled the Russian Bear Dance, heels kicking high. It lasted for a few seconds before I gathered myself enough to high-tail it out of there back to the kitchen door!

Nobody looked around, or seemed to pay attention to my little drama. My grandmother had seen it all, and there was a suspicion of a smile still on her face when she turned and asked me where the dishpan was. I can remember staring at her, still blubbering from my fright, and realising with dread that, yes…I was going to have to go back out there and retrieve the dishpan. There would be no getting out of it. I waited a few minutes then, holding my breath, mumbling repeatedly my grandma’s assurance that the snake was more frightened of me than me of it, I carefully made my way back into the field. There was no sign of the culprit. I gingerly lifted the pan, then ran as fast as I could; the awful feeling that the snake was right behind me putting wings on my feet.

There was no open praise for my achievement. I did, however, overhear Grandma telling my Grandfather about the episode later that night. I detected a sliver of approval in her tone when she said “…scared as she was, she went out there and brought back the pan!”

Grandpa chuckled. His pride was evident. “That’s our girl!” he answered. I went to bed floating on a cloud. I could do it!

But only if I had to. I still used every excuse in the book to avoid that area of the field. Suddenly a barrel appeared just outside the door. It was to be used to dump the dishwater, my Grandma told us; no use making the field muddier than it was already. I hugged her a little tighter that night on my way to bed.

Events this past weekend renewed these memories. Sorry, but if anyone tells me “I can’t” without giving it his/her best shot, I am inclined to consider it a “cop-out”. There’s no empathy there. Blame it on my upbringing.

Thinking about the snake gives me chills; but thinking about my Grandma, and all her invaluable lessons, makes me SMILE, because she is the one who taught me that I CAN handle nearly anything you throw at me..

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

A BAD TIME

This lady is not happy.

It’s now official – I had to lay off all of my office employees, my Yoshiko included. The only person staying on…for the moment…is Line, who does client visits outside the office. Most of them finish this Friday; Yo has one more week to go, then will be gone too. It’s breaking my heart. The only consolation is that summer is here – so maybe they can make believe that they’re on a long vacation. Right.

Pointing fingers anywhere else is useless. I’m the one at fault. I should have taken steps to correct the situation a few months ago when I saw the way it was going. I took the risk without calculating; without having a backup plan; putting all the eggs in the same basket. Unfortunately everyone pays, myself included. Not only morally, but most definitely financially. It’s macaroni for breakfast, lunch and dinner, as they say. And maybe we’ll skip lunch to be certain there’ll still be enough for dinner…..

However, sitting and whining, although a normal human reaction isn’t going to help. One doesn’t hit the ripe ‘ole age of 60 (yegads! This weekend!!!) without having experienced setbacks along the way. I had been thinking to take it easier this summer – working a 3-day week, resting up – but that isn’t on the agenda now. I foresee a heavy schedule for the next few months if the business is going to get back on its feet. And believe me – I’ve been reminded that one must keep eyes open and especially NOT depend on anyone else. This time around I’ll go with my own instincts. It may not work out, but at least there’ll be less frustration.

My grandma had a term for it – she would call it the “count your blessings” time. I’ve been repeating it over and over since I realized that the decision could no longer be delayed. One of the blessings is that the employees are all eligible for unemployment – good. Another is that I am still healthy enough to work – good. Then one can add that I live in a country where second, third, and even more chances are feasible options. I won’t even get into the “happy family” bit, because it goes without saying – the most important things in life are still there and I’m much more fortunate than many people in this world. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Grandma was right. The sun is still shining.

Have a good one, folks. Sending you a SMILE!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.