My home is my family
Since migrating to Canada, we had a few ups and downs but now Dave’s parents had come out to join us and we felt like a complete family again.  We had all settled well into our new lifestyle, mom and dad in their new basement apartment, with their little dog and the rest of us upstairs with our two dogs and a cat.
Having left our cat in England, with neighbours, we wanted to get a new furry girl to make the family complete.  I saw ads in the paper for a society that rehoused strays so I contacted them.  I fell in love with our new calico baby, she was about four months old and really shy, maybe the result of being out in the streets for a while.  Anyway she soon made herself at home, reminding the dogs just who was in charge and settled into life with four little girls who loved to dress her in doll clothes.
Charlie didn’t seem to mind the attention and seemed really content to lie in a doll stroller and be wheeled round the yard, wearing her bonnet.  One cold spring day, while Dave was working at fixing the basement for his parent’s arrival, I decided to light a fire to cosy thing up a bit.  The kids were all playing elsewhere while I laid paper and kindling in the hearth, meanwhile Charlie was rubbing round me, demanding attention.  I went for matches and lit the paper, the instant that the flames shot up the chimney, I remembered the cat, who was now nowhere in sight.
I went through the whole house, my heart sinking as I thought about what I had done and went outside to call up to the roof.  I heard the plaintiff wailing of Charlie on the roof and went to tell Dave that I had almost killed the cat.  Without notifying the kids, we carried a ladder to the roof and Dave climbed up for the rescue. Unbelievably, the cat was not only uninjured but did not have a speck of soot on her fur, even her paws were clean.  My guardian angel had not only looked after me that day but had miraculously got that cat to the roof unscathed.  I guess the incentive of flames roaring up the chimney had given the cat the instinct to move like the wind.
Dave’s parents arrived on Thanksgiving Day which was very fitting as their safe arrival made our life feel complete. Dave’s mom had always been my biggest fan and was thrilled with my accomplishment of making home made buns for the meal.  I only told her it was frozen dough later and, from that day on she bought and baked the dough herself.
We shared the laundry room in the basement but led separate lives, only sharing meals once a week or so.  Our children were growing and getting involved with extra curricular activities, so dinner was quite often hurried to get someone transported to some activity or other.  Between skating lessons, baton twirling, brownies and soccer, our girls had varied activities which kept Dave and I on the go with driving them places.  We also kept on with our Sunday explorations which always meant picnic lunches.
Dave’s parents were young sixties so both get part time jobs however, having grandparents living with us meant that our four girls were very rarely in the house alone, which gave me real peace of mind.  It was also a haven for the girls to go to when I was on the warpath, there was always a sympathetic ear downstairs.
Gina and I were very close and one day a week we spent the day window shopping and enjoying lunch out.  She was a real clothes fiend and always spent lots of time trying new fashions on.  I had less money to spend but still loved to go along with her.  She would pick a few items and go in the changing room, I had to keep running for different sizes or colours of the items she was trying on.
One day we were in a store changing room and Gina stripped down to undies, ready to try on a dress.  It was winter and she was wearing some knee length navy and red, diamond patterned, winter underpants, along with this she wore a pale blue undershirt and a black bra.  However, she didn’t like the underwire in the bra so was wearing it over her undershirt.  Combined with knee high stockings, the entire spectacle was really quite alarming.  When the sales lady came to see how we were doing, I held the curtain closed so she couldn’t see the fashion faux-pas behind me.  Next time we went shopping I warned her to dress appropriately for being seen by sales clerks.
Another day we were in Walmart looking through racks of clothing.  Gina complained that the clothes all looked as though they were designed for old ladies, thoughtlessly I said “well you are an old lady”.  The look on her face was really sad so I hugged her and told her how pretty she was and how much I loved her.  I looked up and there was a woman staring at the two of us embracing.  I guess the sight of two very short haired women in pants, obviously in love, gave her the wrong idea  and she gave us a disgusted look.  At that time being gay was not acceptable and she obviously thought we were disgusting.  I was really annoyed at her attitude and blew her an air kiss before moving off.
We usually had lunch in Woodwards, however Gina had a quite light appetite and quite often took some food home for dinner.  Instead of asking for a box she would wrap some leftovers in napkins and put them in her purse.  A few days after one shopping trip she called me downstairs to see that her little dog had completely destroyed her purse.  This was unlike the dog but, on investigation, I found the remnants of chewed up napkins that had held a piece of fish.  She also like to pocket a few creamer packets and had several disasters as a result.  She never got out of this habit and had to throw away several purses as a result of creamers spilling and going sour.
Life with the family was never dull, we had lots of laughs and enjoyed one another’s company.  Our house was a real home.