Trains, wool blankets and a pile on cuddle

I got stopped by a train this morning on my way in which is rather rare out where I am. Because I live outside city limits there are no guidelines for how long trains can stop traffic so I was stuck there a while. My mind wandered while I tried to make out the spray painted tags on the cars and blurred my vision like I used to do as a kid so the entire train becomes one, racing, blurry mass that flashes lights on and off as the cars pass. It reminded me of childhood.

I grew up in Toronto and the house my family lived in was directly behind a train track. There was an intersection about twenty feet beyond my bedroom window and the trains would blow their whistle to warn cars before the gates came down that they were coming. I’m sure you’ve all heard a train whistle, however, when you hear one in the middle of the night while in a dead sleep it’s another experience all together. First the horn would sound (and trust me, you can feel that sound in your bones while you hear it) and then the annoying *ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding* of the warning gates would start. As if that wasn’t enough, the actual train passing would vibrate and rattle through the house and then, right when it passed my window, another horn would sound. Would you believe me if I told you I was easily able to sleep right through it by the time I was five? lol…it’s amazing what the human body can withstand and adapt to.

Anyway – the memory wasn’t the sound, but the train. We were lucky enough to have a big, fenced in back yard and, when I was little, I would hear that whistle and make a break for the patio doors in the basement to get outside in time for the caboose. I would fly down the stairs, jump the furniture and leap onto the soft, green grass in my bare-feet, poised and ready to wave. I was rarely disappointed. I’m not sure if it was just a thing back then, that an engineer would ride the caboose, or if he knew there were a bunch of kids who would be waiting to watch him pass by so always made sure to be there, but I would always get a wave and a big happy smile. The yards were lined up perfectly and the fences were chain link so I could look to my left and right and see other neighbourhood kids doing exactly as I was doing…arms extended, feet bare, huge grins on their faces, waving to the guy in the caboose as the train went off down the track. What a great job that would be eh?

A blog friend left me a comment yesterday in response to my whine about the people I’m trying to be friends with who are resisting me. It made such sense….and now that I have realized it, it’s so, very clear. I’m trying to be friends with people who are resisting. That’s not how friendships work….why did I think I could force a friendship with someone? Just because I’ve contacted her over and over and WANT to care, doesn’t mean she has to accept it. What a wonderful perspective shift my friend (the one who isn’t being dragged into my life against her will…lol) gave me. Thank you Birdie. x

And then there’s Mike. The most confusing person to ever have been in my world. He doesn’t want me around either and he’s made it very clear. He is looking for a very specific set of circumstances between us and although I keep trying different pegs, the shape of the hole I’m trying to jam them into has never changed. He presented me with a circle and I’ve been hammering and fiddling and trying with everything I know to cram a square peg into it. He watches dispassionately because he already knows it won’t fit….he just lets me go around and around, feeling like a failure every time it doesn’t work. Wow huh? I am not providing what he needs but that doesn’t make me a bad person, it just makes me the wrong person.

I think I’ll repeat that for my own sake. It doesn’t make me a bad person, it just makes me the wrong person.

Well doesn’t that just make perfect sense.

So today, I decided to wear something less frumpy and baggy (I’ve been hiding my body for a while, not loving the new pudgy places :S) just to see if I could do it without feeling horrible all day. I have a change of clothes (lol) just in case, but I seem to be doing okay. I have black leggings on (hahaha…all class, this gal) and my favourite metal studded boots with a long, form fitting, black sweater. I put on my favourite necklace and earrings and the silver tree ring Dayne got me and I’m feeling pretty darn good. I think I’ve lost a few pounds again but my face still feels rather puffy. I don’t know….I don’t feel great, but I feel better than I thought I would so that’s a good thing.

Dayne, Colt and I had the best cuddle last night…I hope you don’t mind hearing about it. πŸ™‚ A coworker made me a BEAUTIFUL wool blanket out of my favourite colours (red, purple and a bit of gray) with hearts worked into the pattern for Valentines Day. I offered her money for it but she would only take the cost of the wool (she’s a casual employee, 65, retired but still working to supplement her pension). It is the most comfortable, warm blanket and seeing as it’s jumping between -20 and -40 out there right now it was well needed! We got home last night and the house was c-c-c-cold. We live in a converted cottage on a farm so there’s no forced air, no furnace, just a gas fireplace on one end and a (broken) gas heater on the other. We rely on the hot air rising to keep the bedrooms warm….ish. When we got in, the place was freezing so Colt and I immediately grabbed our ipads and dived under the blanket on the couch. Within ten minutes we also had the two cats, one huge maine coon and a teeny tiny little tortie girl, piled on top of us. Dayne came home shortly thereafter and laughed at the “pile” of us on the couch and wiggled his way in. We stayed there for hours, the three (five) of us. Can there be anything better, really, than snuggling with your family under a warm blanket made with love on a cold Canadian winter night? Nope. Can’t think of a single thing. Isn’t that wonderful? πŸ™‚

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About Grainne

My name is Grainne. This blog has been with me for years now and has served as a journal, a confessional, an outlet and a place for me to create and express my love of life. Thank you for stopping by and for becoming a part of this life long journey of mine. I appreciate every single one of you who takes the time to do so. :)

3 responses to “Trains, wool blankets and a pile on cuddle”

  1. Ain't No Shrinking Violet says :

    What a beautiful post. πŸ™‚

  2. Birdie says :

    An old lady in the building I lived in at the time made me a huge king-sized afghan and she wouldn’t take money for it either. It gave her something to do, she said.
    Friendships can be so complicated but they needed be.

    • Grainne says :

      Mary, my friend who made my blanket, told me that she can’t watch TV without doing something with her hands. So lovely, isn’t it? I love it when people do things like this for each other. πŸ™‚

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