I am moving.

* Tea With Trees *

Join us.

le sigh...

What a fucking day...

The urge to get high is getting stronger by the day.

For the sole purpose of pure escapism.

Tired of thinking.

Tired of doing what is right.

All.  Of.  The.  Time.

.

I love going to visit my Dad and stepmom.

I love driving down the winding Ridge Road all covered in snow and snugly hugging the borders of the lake like a great wintry ribbon.  Driving past the quaint little church surrounded by ancient trees and carved out onto an acre donated by the original owners of their land.  It makes me think of simpler times.  When we attended church last summer, there were about 7 friendly patrons there and I wistfully glanced out the windows into the open breezy fields and felt as dreamy and imaginative as my dear Anne Shirley must have.  The house is old with tin on the walls and ceilings.  Layer upon layer of discoloured wallpaper act like the rings of a tree.  They heat the place with wood and cook on the wood stove almost entirely.  When we eat there, we feel satisfied with no need for junk or snacks.

After dinner, we began to talk about my Dad's parents and the history involved.  I have often wondered, just how my family was affected by the war and what rolls they played during the horrific time.  We are Croatian.  I found out that Gramma's family was very well off and owned a mill and stable with hired hands.  One day a friend of theirs who was Serbian came to warn them that the Serbians were coming to take their land and that if they were to put up any fight they would be killed.  They packed up only a few small things and took one horse to flee in the night.  They, much later, returned to the farm to see if they could reclaim it, but instead worked as hired help and were given only one room for the entire family in what used to be entirely theirs. 

Gramma's brother Joe was taken to work for the Germans as he was young and able.  Because he knew so many languages, they used him for a translator in a concentration camp.  He told them that when a letter came for executions, that he would translate it incorrectly to save lives knowing full well that if it were discovered, he himself would be killed.

All of her siblings and her were split up and Gramma stayed with friends of the family and was a shepherd.  That is where she learned how to spin wool.  She, apparently, loved this as she loved the animals so much.

I find this all so fascinating and deep.  You often see movies about the horrors of World War II and because of my German background, I wondered, on many occasions, what our role was.  It made me realize that just because one was German, it did not mean that you agreed or even knew the entirety of what was happening.  They were humans too not, in any way, to minimize the horrendous acts of the Nazis.  Trying to stay alive, being forced out of their own homes and fearing for their own lives.  They were doing what was in their own power to save who they could.  That is something, and I am proud of that.  I am keeping my maiden name.  I am very Ellenberger and I want to keep the name that is as original as its people.

I often wonder where I get some of my traits and hope that there is some sort of blood line of strength and courage.  I want to learn more.  I have a feeling that 2007 will be one of family and learning and reconnecting and researching.  Family has never felt so imperative.

My Aunt Cheryl called earlier in the week and asked us if we would be able to take her Golden Retriever for 10 days or so as an opportunity came up for her to travel to Australia.  She is refusing to let life pass her by, but worried about her companion so we full-heartedly agreed to take care of the huge smiling dog.  We now have what I would consider a pack of dogs who are currently bouncing on the bed and me making it nearly impossible to type.

May the patron saint of animals help us now!

be.

Munkey Got His Groove Back!

Holy Hot.

be.