ylviane cuts down the old cedar tree as I trim the herbs and lay them out to dry. Some people think it should be the other way around. I, the man, should cut down the tree while she, the woman, putters in the garden. But I have another confession to make as well — she hangs the doors and I cook the meals. Some people think we have our roles reversed. And we think so ourselves sometimes. And then we laugh and talk about how we have found a way of being together that lets each of us do the things we like to do, and avoid those we don’t. Well, not everything of course. We do own a house and there are always things neither of us wants to do, or that both of us would like to do. Those things we try to share — unless we can think of a reason not to, of course.

Life’s like that, isn’t it? We grow up, exposed to shoulds and woulds and otta-bes. A man should . . . a real man would . . a man otta be . . .Otta-be what? Interested in cutting down the trees when he could be preparing the herbs for winter delights? Hang the door when he would rather be messing around in the kitchen? I don’t think so. Doesn’t make any sense to me. But it used to. Long ago, in what seems like another lifetime, I used to believe all that. That there was a ‘right’ way — and of course a ‘wrong’ way — to be.

I was just like so many of the kids I meet who are, as they say, in need of care. They come in to our programs infused with the prescriptions about how they should be. And sometimes the very behaviours which are identified as being of concern — the rebellion, the recklessness, the refusal, denial and resistence — are simple reactions to the should, woulds and otta-bes.

Like . . . a good son would . . . or . . .

A good daughter should . . . or

I child otta-be . . .

Think about it. I’ts all I have to say for now. I have to go make dinner. With fresh herbs, of course. It otta-be good.

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