The Arcade Fire Show

On November 5, 2017November 5, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Good Times, Music, NaBloPoMo7 Comments

Last night Mizz J and I attended yet another rock show together (yay!!!). Arcade Fire (with opening act, Broken Social Scene), at the Air Canada Centre on what we found out was the very last night of their tour!

I had been under the weather earlier this week but I knew I’d have to be pronounced dead before I’d miss this show.

It turned out to be one of those concerts that you felt was more like a giant house party or a show at an intimate club rather than an event at a major venue.

I didn’t know the opening (local to Toronto) act, but I did enjoy them and they appear to have a very strong following.

The stage was set in the middle of the arena and the members of Arcade Fire moved around the entire set playing to every last corner (and ventured into the crowd on a couple of occasions) so that everyone felt intimately connected with the experience they were creating.

Turn your lights on, we were told. And we did.

To begin, the band walked through the floor crowd (after being introduced like fighters) and climbed through the ropes set up to resemble a boxing ring, to start their set.

For most of this show, there were 2 free seats to the left of Mizz J and we utilized the extra space for DANCING! The owners of those seats showed up partway through Arcade Fire, stayed for about 30 minutes, then left again well before the set ended. These seats weren’t cheap. Who does this?

And, after a blistering finale they paraded off through the crowd again led by a sax player, like a New Orleans jazz funeral. We sang them off. Magical.

Highly recommended to see this band, if you get a chance.

I’ve been to a lot of concerts but never one like Arcade Fire. Everyone who purchased a ticket to the show was sent a copy of the latest CD, Everything Now. I’ve been enjoying this disc immensely since receiving it in early August.

Today I’m feeling the after-effects of this event coming so soon on the heels of being ill. I see a couple of naps in my immediate future.

But first I have to add some bands to my journal’s list of artists I have seen live…hehehe.

Rock on,

The WB

SaveSave

Save

How the Widow Badass Came to Be

On November 4, 2017June 6, 2022 By Widow BadassIn Badassery, Hmmm?, NaBloPoMo17 Comments

When Joanne and I were hiking last weekend, she asked me how I came up with the name for my blog. I then realized that I have never fully explained it, although I briefly touch on this on my About the Widow page.

The Widow Badass was born when my husband died – in the first few minutes of November 14, 2013. She had been conceived in the doctor’s office where we received his diagnosis of lung cancer, a mere 6 months earlier.

My grieving started at that moment of conception, and also my oh-so practical (this sounds so cold, but it’s true) planning for my future without him.

I was working full-time, AND pursuing my MBA online (as was he), at the time of his diagnosis. Due to his insistence, I kept working and studying. He was too weak to work, but he kept studying also. We weren’t supposed to let the cancer “win” by giving these things up.

I fully supported him throughout the course of his disease. I researched cancer relentlessly; went to every appointment and treatment; sat vigil in every hospital room; shopped and cooked and worked and studied and cared and cried and prayed; and then got up after a few hours rest and did it all again.

During my quiet moments in hospital rooms I thought about and planned my future without him. I knew I would have a huge mess to clean up once he was gone. His OCD-fuelled hoarding had managed to fill up the large building that he owned for the past 20 years, and had spilled into the residence that I owned.

Listening to the hum of the ICU equipment, I estimated it would take me a solid year of working at it every night and weekend just to empty his building of the accumulation of garbage that was his hoard (the last room was emptied just a few week’s shy of a year later).

Drinking my lukewarm Tim Horton’s tea while my husband slept, I decided I would move into his building and erase the 20 years of his neglect at great cost to make it my own (I did).

Watching the nurses take his vitals, I knew it would take a few months to clean up my property enough to make it presentable to sell but I would do that first, then move and start cleaning up all over again (done, and done).

Pacing the hallways, I vowed that at some point during all this I would complete my damn MBA (damn straight, I did).

And so it all happened. The Widow Badass made it all happen. She was/is that aspect of myself that took over and got shit done. And she had no time or patience for anybody’s bullshit. She was all: blinders on, full speed ahead and let’s deal with the wreckage later when the dust settles.

What I didn’t plan for was finding out about my husband’s unfaithfulness to me during the clean-up process, a couple of months after he died. Finding print-outs of emails between him and another woman shook my entire world-view of what I thought my life with him had been about.

But that didn’t stop the Widow Badass. Oh no. She mined the knowledge of that 18 month-long affair like it was diamonds buried in a refuse heap. She used that hurt and rage to further fuel the mission to create a new life.

So now the Widow Badass is here and here to stay. Long may she reign.

Rock on,

The WB

SaveSave

What I did when Summer finally came to Ontario – October

On November 3, 2017November 3, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Bruce Trail Adventure, Gardening, Good Times, NaBloPoMo, See the Beauty, The Great Outdoors5 Comments

First a PSA: thanks to the power of the Twitterverse and a blogger named Kat of AsKatKnits, I learned that NaBloPoMo is still a thing! Another blogger (Aimie from Blissful Lemon) is hosting it this year. Go Aimie! Link up here, if interested in joining in the challenge (and the fun!).

Here is part 2 of how I made the most of Ontario’s better-late-than-never summer weather :

The Badass Rooftop Garden produced pole beans and cherry tomatoes until an overnight frost hit mid-October.

The warm weather meant lots of strolls at all times of day. Here is early evening on October 3.

Took a trip up to Mrs. & Mrs. Me Too’s place right after Thanksgiving!

And drinking beer on the dock while viewing stunning sunsets, natch.

Back in my neck of the woods again. More hiking, this time at Crawford Lake Conservation Area. Nassagaweya Canyon overlook.

I’ve been enjoying using a free hiking app downloaded to my phone, called All Trails. It shows you exactly where you are on the trail (blue dot)

And even more hiking! This time at Felker’s Falls with a delightful fellow blogger, Joanne from My Life Lived Full. This was a close as I dared get to the edge – my back leg is firmly planted as far behind me as I could extend it.

It was great to finally meet the person who inspired me to revive my own Bruce Trail Dream (in progress). We spent so much time hiking and chatting we forgot to get a picture of the both of us…hehehe. Next time!

And now the real fall is finally upon us. Dark mornings and early evenings and damp, cold, windy weather.

Thankfully, I have this to look forward to during these dark days ahead:

Ahhh, a Nespresso latte machiatto. Life’s little morning luxury.

Rock on until tomorrow!

The WB

Save

SaveSave

What I did when Summer finally came to Ontario – September

On November 2, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Bruce Trail Adventure, Good Times, NaBloPoMo, Roadtripping, See the Beauty, The Great Outdoors, Uncategorized10 Comments

This is going to be a two-parter, because Summer finally came to town in September and hung on through almost all of October.

Afternoon at Little Tract September 13. Blazing hot out.

Visiting Alton Mills Arts Centre September 16. Lovely spot and worth the drive!

Beaching it at Bayfield September 17. I even swam, twice – to get some relief from the heat!

Hiking with Mizz J September 23. Another scorcher of a day.

Watching the dancing at Jane Austen’s Country Ball (hosted by the Fashion History Museum) September 23. I felt a little sorry for all the revelers in their hot costumes. Obviously no one thought it would be so hot and humid so late in the season when the event was planned. It did not stop the festivities though!

Hiking at Rattlesnake Point September 30. Hasn’t cooled down yet!

I did try to make the most of the great weather while it lasted, and when I wasn’t working.

Tomorrow I will do a photo recap of the glory that was October.

Rock on,

The WB

Save

NaBloPoMo NoMo?

On November 1, 2017 By Widow BadassIn NaBloPoMo13 Comments

Last November I first learned of National Blog Posting Month.

Apparently it’s been a thing since 2006. Piggybacking onto National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). For every day in the month of November, bloggers will take on the challenge of coming up with a post daily. It was hosted by BlogHer, which supposedly bit the bullet last year. Or was subsumed by something called SheKnows, which I don’t pretend to understand the point of. Not that I ever got BlogHer either. I saw the badges on other bloggers’ sites but I never could figure out what it actually was. My bad, in case it was something great.

So I came to the party too late apparently, because NaBloPoMo is no more. At least not as an organized event.

I don’t know if other bloggers are going to continue on with the “tradition”.

But I am up to the challenge of posting every day in November. Something has got to get me back onto my butt and in front of this screen again. I can’t blame the great weather anymore because yesterday I saw snow flying across my office window.

See ya tomorrow dear Bloggie!

Rock on,

The WB

#MeToo

On October 20, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Hmmm?5 Comments

I’ve had my breasts squeezed and my ass grabbed.

I’ve been grabbed by the actual pussy as I was walking down the hall in high school. The guy (an acquaintance) behind me reached between my legs and grabbed me and tried frantically rubbing my genitals (through my blue jeans), without any warning or hint of what he was about to do. I was so stunned I couldn’t speak for about half an hour as I processed what just happened to me. Then I confronted him and let him have it. Well you didn’t say anything so I thought you liked it, he sputtered as I raged at him. I hope I made such an impression on him that he never tried that again with another woman.

I’ve been threatened with sexual violence. I’ve been chased. I’ve been stalked. I’ve been harassed. I’ve been catcalled too many times to remember.

I had a guy angrily accuse me of lying about a boyfriend when I turned him down for date. He made a scene at my workplace where this encounter happened. Oh yeah, he sneered, so where’s your ring then? (I did have a boyfriend at the time but even if I didn’t I knew it was more palatable to say that you did than to turn down a guy outright. In the male mind, you were then off-limits because you were someone else’s “property” and that was acceptable whereas being refused was not.)

I’ve had more than 1 guy suddenly force his lips on mine, without invitation or warning.

When I was 16 another teenage boy attempted to rape me at a campfire. I had made friends with a gentle guy who often visited the beachfront restaurant where I worked that summer. One day close to the end of the season he invited me to join his group of friends for their nightly campfire. I asked if there would be other girls there as well and was assured there would be. So I went. And there were other girls there. A big blond guy (the group’s “leader”, I realized) sat next to me, and the guy I was friends with moved across the fire from me. At some point I looked up from the fire and realized everyone had silently vanished, leaving me alone with the big blond. Immediately I said I had to leave and asked him to point me in the direction back to my parents’ trailer at our campground. Instead he proceeded to pin me to the ground and started slobbering all over my protesting mouth. He then threw his heavy body on top of mine with such force that I vomited. This changed his mind and I was allowed to get up and leave. I realized afterwards that I was set up and the whole encounter was premeditated by the big blond in collusion with everyone else there. I never saw my so-called friend again at the restaurant. I told no one because I knew I would be blamed for this happening to me.

Once back in the early 80’s, when I complained to a friend’s father about all the catcalling I received when I waited for them on the street to pick me up to take me to university, he countered by saying if I didn’t want the attention why did I bother to dress attractively, comb my hair and wear makeup? Really? I said, Just so you know, even in the dead of winter when I stand on the sidewalk wearing no makeup and my oversized duffel coat that makes me look like a small red refrigerator I am still catcalled and honked at! Just what the hell am I supposed to wear to avoid “attention” as you call it??? There was no answer.

I just hate that no matter what we do or don’t do, say or don’t say, wear or don’t wear there are people who make sexual violence or harassment the fault of the victim, not the perpetrator. It was true when I was growing up and it is still true today. People’s attitudes haven’t changed that much. Not really.

And don’t even get me started on the bullshit attitudes and comments I had to put up with from male police officers when my ex was stalking me. I had to endure months of fear and harassment (and police inaction) before I finally connected with a female officer who immediately made a restraining order happen. Not that it helped, much…but that is another story.

We still talk about women who have been raped rather than men who have raped women. We still talk about harassment of women rather than the men who harass women. We still don’t believe the women who are brave enough to come forward.

Well, here’s me saying ME FUCKING TOO.

Rock on,

The WB

Happy September!

On September 3, 2017September 3, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Artistic Endeavours, Good Times, I Got Married, Roadtripping, See the Beauty, The Great Outdoors6 Comments

Well hello dear Bloggie,

Coming at you from a hotel room in Kelowna, British Columbia on this fine 3rd day of September – which would have been my 7th wedding anniversary. (Or would it? Hmmm…I’d like to think I would not have divorced my mentally ill, betrayer of a husband had he not died from cancer…but who knows what alternate reality I would be living by now had things turned out differently…) Anyhow, I don’t have a whole lot of emotion surrounding this day anymore…and I think that is a good and healthy sign.

August has been a stressful month for me. My sister has been quite ill and in hospital here in Kelowna – hence my presence. Most of the month I was on pins and needles, not knowing when her surgery would finally happen or if she would be healthy enough to even qualify. This, plus lots of goings on at work made the month both drag on and fly by simultaneously, if that makes any sense (and it does to me).

I did manage to get up to see my other sister (Me Too) and her wife at their lovely lakeside home, on the Civic Holiday Long weekend…and stopped in at a National Park (another one crossed off the list) along the drive up there.

At Thousand Islands National Park. Check out how straight my teeth are becoming! #Invisalignlove

Just another peaceful misty morning at Me Too’s place.

And I did get to Riverfest Elora 2017. A fantastic festival with such a great vibe – I think this will be an annual event for me. Hopefully next year I can convince someone to join me. I didn’t mind going alone, but naturally it would have been even more enjoyable to have company.

As I fretted and stressed the month away, I decided to pour my feelings into the paint I was applying on some canvases.

Practically a copy of a painting done by another artist, Elspeth McLean. Don’t all artists start out by copying the greats? 🙂 This is for the sister I am currently visiting. I named it “Feminine Energy”.

Another finished piece. No name yet. This is an original.

I did find some time to get on the river.

And then I got word that my sister’s surgery had finally been scheduled and was happening within 48 hours, so it was a mad dash to get plane tickets and book a hotel. I arrived in smoke- and ash-covered Kelowna on Tuesday. This has been the worst season for forest fires in 60 years, I’ve been told.

My feet (de-Birkenstocked) after a day of trudging back and forth to the hospital.

Patio chair after a night of falling ash.

My sister’s surgery was a success and she is steadily improving. And the skies have cleared up too!

That’s much better! Still hazy but at least it’s blue!

I have booked my flight home for this coming Tuesday. Now there is nothing left to do on this Labour Day long weekend but enjoy visiting my sister and eat my fill of Okanagan peaches.

Rock on,

The WB

Save

79% Shiksa. 21% Chosen People. Still Badass.

On July 28, 2017July 28, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Hmmm?5 Comments

Well, colour me verklempt!

For a couple of reasons – first, it’s been now a year and two days since my last TIA and I have been symptom-free ever since – hoorah!

Second, I did a DNA test with Ancestry.ca and my results bear credence to a family mystery. Behold:

Who my mother’s father was (is?) has always been unknown, at least to my mother and her siblings. My Oma didn’t talk about it. But the family story goes like this: my Oma was in love (and pregnant by) a Jewish man – they wanted to get married but because my Oma was not of the age of consent (21, in the Netherlands back then) she couldn’t marry without her parents’ permission. And that was not granted by her Christian Reformed family. I guess having a child outside of marriage (and preventing my mom from having a dad in her life) was less sinful than marrying outside of the faith?!?

Sheesh, is it any wonder I have such a dim view of religion? My mom was whispered about, shunned, and rejected by people because she was born out of wedlock – as if she had anything to do with the circumstances of her existence!!!

After having to confess her transgression(s) to the church elders, my Oma was sent to Rotterdam, to bear her “sin”…and my mother (product of aforementioned “sin”) was born in 1936 in a Salvation Army home for unwed mothers. That was the story. Then later, I was told the story wasn’t exactly true. Mom’s dad now wasn’t Jewish – he just refused to convert to Oma’s family religion.

However, thanks to Ancestry DNA, it seems that the original story was the truth! Mom would have inherited half of her dad’s genes and I have inherited half of Mom’s genes. So given the randomness of DNA mixing, I could be up to 25% Jewish in heritage. The math works.

However, I can’t call myself Jewish because to be born a Jew you have to have a Jewish mother. The dad doesn’t count. This is explained here. I am sure Hitler would have disagreed so perhaps that is why there were conflicting stories floating around about my mystery Opa – to protect my mom from being picked up during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands?

My dad and his cousin did some digging of their own years and years ago (both are gone now), and said they located the man. He was working in (and possibly owned) a pub in Scheveningen (?), and I also heard his last name was De Jong. My mom did not want to proceed any further because she didn’t want to disrupt his life and the life of his family after all these years, with the sudden appearance of a “bastard” child. Which I disagreed with, but it was not my decision to make. I suspect that she just couldn’t face the possibility of even more rejection, even this late in her life – so who can blame her for that?

Now I am hoping, through Ancestry, to finally find out who the mystery Opa is, or could be. According to the website, they have other members who are distant relatives of mine – 4th cousins – who are Jewish people – who I have never ever heard of and are not connected to the family tree I am building (yet!).

I have to work up the nerve to contact them and see if they can help solve the mystery of the missing Opa. Surely after all this time has passed it will no longer be so scandalous?

Rock on,

The WB

SaveSave

When am I going to grow up?

On July 17, 2017September 3, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Badassery, Good Times, Hmmm?8 Comments

A former spouse of mine once infamously asked me that question.

Back in the late 90s, I had told him that we should take the kids to a music festival together (Edgefest, in Barrie) for the day. The lineup was awesome, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to show the kids what an outdoor rock concert was all about and how to do it safely and enjoyably. They were excited, as there were many groups/artists they liked; I was excited as there were many groups/artists I also liked. But he pooh-poohed all over the idea. He didn’t want to go. And he didn’t want us to go either. I said that’s too bad – we’d love it if you came too, but we were going, regardless. He then asked me when I was going to GROW UP and stop wanting to do “THIS SHIT”. Well, hello? I thought he had enjoyed going to concerts with me.

He ended up going, grudgingly – only because there was no way he wanted me to be having any kind of fun without him. (If only he knew how much fun the kids and I had when he left us alone to go up north to see his family for a few days!)

By the end of the summer, I had found a townhouse and was moving out, thus ending our 17 year marriage. Not because of this one stupid comment, obviously…but it speaks volumes about why we were no longer suited to be together.

I have been in love with music since I was a babe in arms. My mom told me when she took me to church as an infant tears would stream down my face whenever I heard the organ play. I asked her why and she said, it seemed to her that I was feeling the music on a visceral level, and it had moved me to weep.

Which is pretty cool – and you’d think a kid like that would be a natural musician – but no. I must have been standing behind the door when the Mystery was handing out musical talent ‘cos I got none.

But what I do have is a major love of music and attending live shows. However, as I am getting older it is getting harder to find people (in my demographic) to attend these shows with me. Especially as I continue to listen to and enjoy new and emerging artists, as well as those I grew up with.

My usual concert buddy – my daughter, Mizz J – is in British Columbia this summer – so what’s a badass widow to do, when there are so many great concerts happening all around me?

As much as it is not my preference, I am going to a 3 day outdoor music festival on my own:

Elora Riverfest 2017 Lineup. So excited!

I just have to go, even though I will be going solo. I learned my lesson from missing WayHome last year. There were at least 16 acts I wanted to see but I couldn’t find anyone to go with me. So I missed them all. Never again.

So this got me to thinking: how many major bands/artists have I seen over the years, since I was a teenager? I tried to write them all down.

I feel like I am missing a few, and a few major ones too. Well, I did come of age in the 70s after all.

I’m going to keep a few pages blank so I can keep adding to the list.

So, I guess I am never going to grow up. Sorry, Husband #1. (Not sorry).

I still see people at these shows who look even older than me, so there is that. Trust me, I look. I am not the only one still doing “this shit”.

Rock on,

The WB

SaveSave

At Odds with My Blog; Georgia O’Keeffe Saves My Day

On June 25, 2017July 18, 2017 By Widow BadassIn Hmmm?, See the Beauty4 Comments

Dear Blog,

You know I’m mad at you, right?

First of all, for making it hard (if not impossible) for people to comment.

Secondly – and this is new – now you are making it damn hard to post pictures. Correction: it is still easy to post pictures. It is hard to post pictures that haven’t been cropped by you dear Bloggie, such that people’s heads and more are missing.

I’m going to have to change my blogs’ theme again, or maybe learn some damn code so I can try to address all these problems I have been having with YOU lately.

In the meantime, I am doing other, easier shit with my free time than get my blood pressure up trying to figure out what the hell went wrong with you, Blog.

Today Mizz J and I went to the Big Smoke to see the Georgia O’Keeffe exhibition at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Picture taking was verboten but here (fingers crossed) is a picture of the art book I purchased afterwards, at ye olde gift shoppe:

Most of my picture of the book I bought. GRRRR!

Once again, dear Bloggie, you have taken it upon yourself to crop my picture even further than I had done so before I uploaded it. ARGH.

Anyways, I am not going to spend any more time on this.

What I really want to say about this exhibit is that I LOVED getting up close and personal with the paintings. I generally always do but today especially so. And here’s why.

I saw the artist’s pencil sketching on the canvas that didn’t get completely covered up the layers of paint applied (Red Poppies). I saw the tiny triangle of bare canvas in the painting where the artist didn’t quite fill in the design (Jimson Flower) where 2 colours met. I saw where the artist tried to refine the edge of the stem by painting a lighter colour over dark green and the green of the oopsie was still apparent underneath (Cala Lily).

It was wonderful to see all the little errors because it gives me freedom and permission to not be perfect either. If it’s good enough for Georgia O’Keeffe and the entire art world, well….

Rock on,

The WB

SaveSave