My dad taught me to be tough. Really tough. Being raised on a farm, we didn’t really have much of a choice. Our chores were physically demanding, shoveling shit and grain, hauling water, stacking bales. We did it all. The work certainly helped us become physically strong. But we were expected to be emotionally and mentally tough too. I believe my dad did the best he could in raising us, often using “tough love” to push us to be better, to be the best we could possibly be. He would say things like, “there’s always someone smarter” and “there’s always someone stronger” and “someone has to win and someone has to lose”. He was full of wisdom and advice!

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My first memory of my mom is hard to distinguish. We lived on a farm in Alberta. My dad’s great grandparents had immigrated from the Ukraine, settled in the area and started farming in the early 1900’s. That was all his family knew. But my mom’s story was quite different. Mom was born and raised in Valleyfield, Quebec near Montreal. She was an only child and her parents had an English background. My mom was very prim and proper - she taught us how to set the table, manners were important and she tried to show us how to use proper etiquette in a variety of situations. So how did she end up in a small town in Alberta, living on a farm?

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There I said it. I used spirituality and shit in the same sentence. Even worse, I made it the title of my first blog. Why? Because I want my readers and followers to know what to expect from this blog. Yes, there will be plenty of discussion, information and resources on spirituality. But there will also be some talk about the shit.

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