Oprah Winfrey

I’ve never  been a shoe-girl.  I can think of one pair of slick black boots that I had a lengthy love affair with, but it ended badly when Lefty’s seam split up the back.  I still compare new [...]]]> “I still have my feet on the ground, I just wear better shoes.”

Oprah Winfrey

I’ve never  been a shoe-girl.  I can think of one pair of slick black boots that I had a lengthy love affair with, but it ended badly when Lefty’s seam split up the back.  I still compare new boots to that old pair, which isn’t healthy for any new relationship.  Suffice it to say, shoe-shopping doesn’t really rock my world.  I don’t window shop for shoes, I don’t know the designer shoe labels like Carrie did on ‘Sex in the City,’ and I’ve never gone out of my way to purchase a particular pair of shoes; until this past weekend.   I was in Vancouver and I was on the lookout for ruby-red slippers for Pip.

On Thursday, our first day in the city, we three girls ‘strolled’ Robson street without any ruby luck,   and Friday we looked on Commercial Drive and came up empty-handed once again, so I put out some feelers.  As it turned out, my girlfriend Tracy had purchased a pair of red sparkly shoes for her niece at a store on West 4^th Avenue.  She didn’t remember the name of the store, but she knew the general location.  A Google search and a phone call to ‘TomaToes’ later, I learned that size 10 sparkly red shoes did indeed exist.  Fabulous.

We woke up to a glorious Saturday morning, and for the first time since our arrival, our  raincoats were not required.  The morning was spent enjoying a family outing to the Aquarium, then Fig went down for a nap.  I had made a hair appointment for 3:00 in Yaletown, but I had enough time before-hand to drive to Tomatoes and pick up the shoes.  Just enough time. .

Traffic was heavy, and by the time I found parking on West 4th Avenue, I had only twenty-five minutes before I was due  at the hair salon.  It was going to be tight.  I ran the block-and-a-half to the shoe store, and when I got to Tomatoes and set eyes on the precious rubies, I literally squealed with delight.  They were PERFECT!!!  The salesclerk started ringing in the sale and, before I even opened my purse, I realized with horror that I had left my wallet in my raincoat-pocket back in the apartment!!!  What an idiot!!!  I had no cash, no credit cards, no bank card; just a cheque-book.

Pleading with Mr. Tomato didn’t work; he would not take my cheque, so I asked him to put the shoes aside for me.  I would be back.  Come hell or high water I was going to get those ruby slippers, but I had a more immediate concern to deal with…it was now fifteen minutes until my hair appointment and it would take at least half-an-hour to retrieve my wallet and get to Yaletown.  I called my hairstylist and asked if she’d take a cheque.  No problem.  Okay.  It wasn’t going to be a total disaster.   I called my husband and asked him to leave my wallet with the concierge since I didn’t have my own set of keys for the apartment.  Thankfully, I caught him before he had taken the girls out for the afternoon.

After a very satisfying cut and style, my focus shifted to the ruby slippers.  I felt like the Wicked Witch of the West in my obsession to get my hands on those little red darlings. I drove back to the apartment, got my wallet from Steven the concierge,  drove across town to Tomatoes and purchased the shoes.  A couple of hours later, I arrived back at the apartment and was greeted by a very excited Pip.

“Did you find my ruby red slippers Mama?”  (My husband had the camera ready.)

“I’m happy to say that I did, Pip, and they’re magnificent!  Here they are.”  I passed the brown bag to Pip and she  pulled out the little yellow shoe-box.   She unwrapped the shoes and literally gasped with excitement.  I think I was hugged and thanked ten times that evening.

I’ve never gone to such lengths to get a pair of shoes, but after witnessing the look of shoe-joy on Pip’s face, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Didier Cauwelaert

Pip’s obsession with ‘The Wizard of Oz’ hasn’t waned since she first saw the stage production last summer.  She constantly wears her  (purple) ruby red slippers, she frequently assumes the role of Dorothy, she likes to [...]]]> “It is our illusions that create the world.”

Didier Cauwelaert

Pip’s obsession with ‘The Wizard of Oz’ hasn’t waned since she first saw the stage production last summer.  She constantly wears her  (purple) ruby red slippers, she frequently assumes the role of Dorothy, she likes to have her hair braided in Garland-like pigtails, she’s going to be Dorothy for Hallowe’en and she has watched the Judy Garland version of The Wizard of Oz in its’ entirety more than once.  I was watching the, ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ scene with her the other day when she complimented Judy Garland, “She sure is good Mama.  She is very talented.  She must be very proud of herself to do the whole thing like that.”

Needless to say, when my friend Fred, who is the father of the actress who played Dorothy this past summer, invited us to his home to meet Dorothy (Sydney), I accepted without hesitation.  I didn’t put much thought into how difficult it would be for Pip to process that Sydney was Dorothy.  After we had spent about fifteen minutes at Fred and Sydney’s home, Pip whispered to me, “Mama, Dorothy isn’t here.”  Ouch.

I thought I had prepared Pip.  Many times we had discussed the fact that ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ was ‘pretend.’ We had talked about the jobs of actors and actresses, and I had warned Pip that Sydney wouldn’t be wearing her costume when we met her, but Pip had still expected to meet Dorothy in all of her glory.  She was disappointed.

I asked Sydney if she had her ruby red slippers, and she brought them out to show us.  Pip examined them; she even put them on her feet, but she still wasn’t convinced that she was in the presence of Dorothy.  ”I wonder if you could say a few of your lines, Sydney.”  I knew I was asking a lot, but Sydney seemed like a good sport.

Sydney asked Pip what her favourite parts of the show were.  Pip wasn’t ready to talk, she just nestled into my side.  I responded for her, “Pip loves saying lines about Toto.”  In a matter of seconds, Sydney clutched her little dog to her chest and launched into one of her monologues about Toto.

When she had finished, Pip looked at me and smiled a gigantic ‘it’s-really-Dorothy!!!!’ grin.  That’s what I was waiting for.

Nice work, Sydney; you had  a tough little critic on your hands but you melted her heart for a second time.

Michel de Montaigne, Of Solitude

I heard about a hand-drumming workshop at Joe’s Garage last week.  A fabulous Mexican drummer named Candido was in town with his band, and he was willing to share his skills with a few [...]]]> “The finest thing in the world is knowing how to belong to oneself.”

Michel de Montaigne, Of Solitude

I heard about a hand-drumming workshop at Joe’s Garage last week.  A fabulous Mexican drummer named Candido was in town with his band, and he was willing to share his skills with a few lucky local drummers.  I went to the class at four o’clock and emerged, only an hour and a half later, feeling like a new person.

Candido was indeed a master drummer, but the rhythm he taught us was one that I already knew, so it wasn’t so much what I learned that made me feel rejuvenated, it was just being thrust into an unfamiliar situation with a brand new set of people, (many of whom were very talented,) and doing something that I love to do.

I love feeling like a mom, a wife, a sister, a daughter and a friend, but it’s good to be out in the world by myself sometimes.  I haven’t been seeking out these types of opportunities for myself in the past couple of years, and I really appreciate it when they present themselves to me.  It’s like the universe just taps me on the shoulder and says, “This would be really good for you to do.”

So I went back for the show that evening and took some photos for the band.  My husband stayed at home with the girls and my brother and I went to see the band, “Matombe.”  They were great.  Their world-music vibe was soul-nourishing and Candido’s playing was inspiring.

Karina, the gorgeous dancer in the band, was jaw-droppingly good.  Her style is unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed; a blend of African, Latin and ‘Karinian.’

It was a good day.  I got to spend time with my daughters, my husband, my brother, some new friends,

and my Self.

Paul Kagam

Have you ever planned to go to an event that is specifically geared toward your child, only to discover that your child has no interest in going?

I bought our ‘Bobs and Lolo’ [...]]]> “Let no one think that flexibility and a predisposition to compromise is a sign of weakness or a sell-out.”

Paul Kagam

Have you ever planned to go to an event that is specifically geared toward your child, only to discover that your child has no interest in going?

I bought our ‘Bobs and Lolo’ tickets in June.  I think their music is great, their look is fresh and their content is current.  I play their cd for my daughters all the time.  I was amazed that they were coming to our little neighbourhood and started prepping Pip for the big concert a few weeks ago.

The big day arrived and Pip didn’t want to go.  She said she would rather watch ‘The Wizard of Oz.’

“But Sweetie, you can do both!  We can go and see the concert, then you can come home and watch ‘The Wizard.”

Pip started crying.  She was sick, she was tired and she was curled up on her little couch in the living room.  ”I don’t want to go Mama.”

“Pip, I bought these tickets a long time ago, and Bobs and Lolo are only going to be here for ONE DAY!!!  Right now is our only chance to see them!”  The concert was starting in twenty minutes.

I told Pip she had to stop crying so that we could talk things through.  She finally calmed down enough to say that she didn’t like Bobs and Lolo, (she didn’t mean it ladies,) and she didn’t feel like going to a concert.  She wanted to stay home.  She wanted to lie down.  She was tired and she wanted to see ‘The Wizard of Oz.’  She started crying again.

Big Daddy-O was motioning for me to just take Pip, tears and all, out of the house to the concert.  It was then a crucial question popped into my head, ‘Why am I doing this?’  This is supposed to be a great experience for my little girl.  Am I really going to drag her out of the house crying?  No.

I told Pip that she didn’t have to go.  I told her that I was disappointed, because I thought she’d have a really good time, but we weren’t going to force her to go.  I also said that she wasn’t getting her way because she cried, we were listening to her because she was able to calm down and talk to us about her feelings.  (I could only hope that she’d believe me.)

My sister called me on her cel phone from the concert to see where we were and I filled her in.  ”Tell Pip how much her cousin wants to see her,” she said.  So, I walked over to Pip,

“Your cousin is on the phone Pip.  She’s at Bobs and Lolo and she really misses you.”

“Mama,” said Pip, “I’ve changed my mind.”

And we were off.  We were twenty minutes late for the show, but it was still great.  Pip even got up on stage at the end of the show when the dynamic duo invited kids to help them sing.

Afterwards, we went to the face-painting tent and Pip asked for a blue puppy to be painted on her forearm.  She adored her new little buddy.

Back in the car I asked Pip if she was glad that she saw Bobs and Lolo.  ”I sure am Mama.   I made a good decision.”

With a little prompting.

Anna Pavlova

I’ve never thought of Pip as an actress.  She doesn’t seem to enjoy drama, which has been quite a relief to Big Daddy-O and [...]]]> “Although one may fail to find happiness in theatrical life, one never wishes to give it up after having once tasted its fruits.”

Anna Pavlova

I’ve never thought of Pip as an actress.  She doesn’t seem to enjoy drama, which has been quite a relief to Big Daddy-O and I.  When she cries, for instance, it isn’t for show, she is either in physical or emotional pain.  Or she’s tired.  Okay, there are many different reasons that she cries.  My point is, she doesn’t crave an audience.  She would much prefer NOT to be the centre of attention.

During these ‘post-Wizard-of-Oz-viewing’ days, however, Pip is consumed with acting.  We, the members of her family are constantly being given roles: Pip is usually Dorothy, but she plays a great Scarecrow as well.   I’m either Aunty Em or the Lion, Fig is often Toto, and Big Daddy-O is Fred.

Don’t be alarmed if you aren’t familiar with the ‘Fred’ character.  He wasn’t in the movie-version.  He wasn’t on stage either, but he was in the audience.  You see, the local actress who played Dorothy has a father named Fred, so Pip thinks that Dorothy’s father is Fred.  Who knows?  Perhaps Dorothy’s father was named Fred.  Fred Gale.  We never actually learn the whereabouts of Dorothy’s parents do we?  Is it mentioned in the book?  I’ll have to check it out.  (Or maybe not.)

Needless to say, Pip is getting quite good at playing Dorothy.  Today she said something about Toto being taken by the witch, then she broke character and said, “Mama, I sounded just like Dorothy when I said that, didn’t I?”  In fact, she did.

When Fig is unavailable as Toto, Pip carries a little stuffed husky around in a basket and says, “Oh no, the twister is coming Toto!!!”  Here she is with Toto, burying her face into the couch while the mighty storm passes:

Pip doesn’t typically enjoy wearing pig-tails, but Dorothy wore them of course, and now Pip does too.  You can tell that they’re a bit of a novelty for her because she can’t keep her hands off of her hair.

I realized that Pip’s interest in the theatre extends beyond ‘The Wizard of Oz’  when we saw a garbage truck and she said, “Mama, when I get bigger, I want to be a garbage-girl on the stage.”

Sounds like an interesting musical, doesn’t it?  “Somewhere, over the dumpster…”

but by how much you are loved by others,”

The Wizard of Oz

Grandma P. treated her two daughters and two eldest grand-daughters to an afternoon of theatre yesterday: we went to see,”The Wizard of Oz.”   We’d been talking about [...]]]> “A heart is not judged by how much you love;

but by how much you are loved by others,”

The Wizard of Oz

Grandma P. treated her two daughters and two eldest grand-daughters to an afternoon of theatre yesterday: we went to see,”The Wizard of Oz.”   We’d been talking about all things Wizard for a few weeks, and I had performed a highly condensed version of the musical for my daughters in preparation of the big event.  (This was not a hardship you understand, as I have a theatrical background and am always appreciative of a captive audience.)

Prior to the matinee, Pip knew the plot of  ’The Wizard,’ and she knew most of the songs, but she had no idea that she’d fall in love with Dorothy.  There we sat, a mere four rows from the stage; Pip on her booster-cushion with her stuffed pig ‘Wilbur’ on her lap, and me, sitting proudly at her side.  The orchestra began playing, the lights dimmed, and Pip said, “When are they going to pop up Mama?”

When Dorothy did finally pop up, Pip was enchanted.  Her favourite song is ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and it begins a bit differently in the theatre version than it does in my one-woman-show.  ”What’s this song she’s singing Mama?”  Pip looked puzzled.

“It’s going to turn into ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow,’ in a second, Pip.”  I said.  When Dorothy launched into, ‘Somewhere,’ Pip threw me a smile of excitement, then she looked back at the stage.  Her eyes remained glued to Dorothy from that point on, and whenever the actress was offstage, Pip would ask,”Where’s Dorothy, Mama?”

Throughout the show, I was torn between looking at my daughter and looking at the stage, but Dorothy captured my heart as well.  She was beautiful.  Her voice was gorgeous, her acting was seamless, and she cried real tears when she had to say good-bye to her friends in Oz.

I got a bit choked-up watching Dorothy.  Not just because she was having such an impact on my little girl, but also because I know her dad.  We went to high-school together and I could see his smile in hers.  I imagined how he must feel watching his little girl convincingly transport an entire audience to a land of munchkins and wizards and magic.

The show was long for my little three-year-old, despite captivating performances from all of the leads.  By the two-hour mark, she started asking, “Is it over now Mama?” every time the lights dimmed for a scene-change.  She was a trooper though, and lasted until the final curtain.  I could tell she was on the edge when we walked out into the muggy summer heat and she refused to get into the hot car.  Once she understood that the alternative was to stay in the hot parking lot, she whimpered her way into her carseat and I buckled her up.

A few minutes into the drive home I looked in my rear-view mirror to check on Pip.  She looked sad.  Her face was glistening with sweat and her mouth was turned-down.  ”Are you okay, Pip?”  I asked.

“I miss Dorothy,” was the response.  She looked like she might cry.

“I know, Honey, Dorothy was a real sweetheart.”

“I think she misses me too, Mama.”