On reading The Bolter by Frances Osbourne.(and searching for some answers about my own (bolter)mother.

Somehow this character resonates with me as Karen Blixen ( her pen name is Isak Dinesen) did in Out of Africa. Idina's character bucked all traditional roles, created controversy, used poor judgement, had many lovers and refused what was offered to women in the 30's. Her being one of the first women of high society and old money to wear trousers thus humiliating her social elitist friends. Also choosing to treat her african workers with respect, opting to farm just like them in bare feet.

Reading this book I thought I wasn't going to like Idina but the further I read the more I was captivated by her, not in all ways but certainly in her ability to create a life for herself. And her achilles heel just as fascinating was a desperate search for love.

Was it possible that my own mother also had her reasons for leaving her children, was she too looking for a better life?

There is something so sad about the way women were expected to just 'accept their lot" even if they were miserable in it. Equally sad to know that the women who wanted to have a full and satisfying life paid for it with their reputation,often being made social outcasts. Her need to achieve and to out smart her men or leave them before she herself got left seemed comparable to that of a child's need to be loved by her father.

Was my own mother searching for her father? Was she too abandoned by him?

When I thought about the polytechnic anniversary yesterday and how the murderer said he hated feminists, I drew comparisons. In reality these women weren't even feminists, just smart enough and brave enough to apply to a school traditionally taught to men. Was his mother the one responsible because she left an abuser and decided to raise her son on her own?

Are we destined to follow in the footsteps of our parents? Could it be that my own mother is happier now having made her decisions then she was when she was making them? Even though she experienced great loss as a result? Did she experience a great loss at all? I wish I could ask her.......

"It had become clear that the only way to hang onto a better life was not to stake it upon the survival of a marriage".

~Idina Sackville

musing of my grandmother lebsack

and why i have such good feelings about food...

her garden carrots and how i have never had any so good since (but keep looking). and the beautiful garden she grew every summer with the sugar snap peas growing on the chicken wire. the clothesline...the squeal squeak sound it made as she rolled the clothes toward her, putting the clothes pins in that little box with the lid. coming down off the step with a basket of newly dried clothes and how that smell of fresh laundry off the line is why i still have one today. there was aunti joyce's rice pudding which i still dream about and the xmas dinners that filled up that whole front room. the over cooked broccoli and cheese and grandpas big farmers hands cutting the turkey (i always remember his giant thumbs). grandma used to have this white stuffed cat that sat on the bed it had glass eyes and i loved it. there was all the afgans and that pungent smell of avon perfume that never however took away from all those pretty bottles i used to look at in awe. imagining one day when i grew into a lady i would have some just like it. i also remember her many aprons and how i felt very honored whenever she would let me wear one and maybe get to help in the kitchen, provided i stayed out of the way. i remember the couch covered in plastic and the sound it made when you sat down and how it was always dark in that front room. the doorbell and how they don't make chimes like that anymore and lastly that grandfather clock that went off on the hour every hour and how no matter what, that sound will always remind me of her....

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welcome to our bakery

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