Cathy Elliott - June 5, 1957-October 15, 2017

She was my sister. 

I looked up to her all my life. 

We fought, we laughed, we sang together. 

She commandeered my junior guitar and taught herself to play. 

She danced. She leapt. She never looked left or right - only forward. 

We shared everything -- bedrooms, clothes, shoes, friends... Heck, I even introduced her to her first husband when we were still in high school.

 

We canoed. We hiked. We chased sunsets, birds and bears. 

We watched a thousand frogs cross a road on a rainy night, and laughed hysterically when one of them hopped in place in the middle of the road, illuminated by Peter's Volkswagen bus headlights. 

Little did I know back then that a rainy night and headlights would take her from me. Two weeks ago, my sister ventured out into a stormy night on a country road near her home. She was hit by a car while avoiding another that was approaching from the opposite direction.

Many will talk of her accomplishments in musical theatre. Her selfless work helping Indigenous youth find their own paths through art and music. Her contact with royalty and Justin Trudeau. Her amazing works of art in oils, acrylic, multimedia. Her amazing dedication to our M'ikmaq roots.

But she was my sister.

I'll miss you, Sisty. But you will always visit me in my dreams.

A Rose is a Rose

Nanny/Frannie's rose bush went through a few hiccups over the years. Nanny had given the plant to Mom when she visited back when I was a teen. There was the time my brother in law took an axe to it after Mom asked him to "cut down" the rose bush. She meant "cut back." Anyway, nothing was left but the root stock and Mom was so upset. But Pete was forgiven.

Years later, after Mom moved away and after Nanny passed, the roots fought their way out of the dirt and put out tentative branches. A couple of tiny red blooms blooms emerged. I told Mom and she was so happy. She said it was Nanny saying hello.

This year, the bush seems to have a new life, with more little red blooms bursting through the day lilies on the neighbour's side of the fence.

On the same note, Uncle Bob's spectacular roses next door were being dug up by the tenant last fall. I showed up just in time. He must have seen the look on my face, so he quickly offered them to me. I immediately dug a spot in the corner of the yard and popped them in. Not good soil, but I didn't want them to die from exposure. This spring, they seem to be making a comeback. The pink rose is one of Uncle Bob's, with the flamingo from his late daughter's wedding in the background. I'll try to augment the soil with some compost when I can.

I don't know much about roses, but I feel a connection with these plants and I hope they can bring joy to future generations.

Uncle Bob used horse poop. Maybe I gotta go find some horse poop.

A New Site

Hi! Wanted to let you know that I have a dedicated blogger site to post my paintings. I'm trying to figure out why I can't fix the layout on this blog, since I have multiple Google accounts. I'll figure it out eventually.

In the meantime, you can view my paintings at:

http://sandracormierturnsek.blogspot.ca/

I recently joined a local art collective, and entered a local show. I'm going to a social to meet other local artists later this week.

Wish me luck making sense of all this!