wingin' it. . .

i'm not really sure what will come to me as i sit here and type . . . dirty plates are all that remain of supper (i guess i should get washing). Its hot out there so i've been staying indoors. I'll have to make this quick - i need to get to the drug store to get my puffer before they close - hot and/or humid weather is not my friend (hard to breathe).

I'm hoping to do some reading tonight - Rob's working some o/t so that will be nice to actually sit and open a book.

My oldest daughter had an ultrasound today - they think the baby is a girl!!!! *but they have to do another one because the little monkey was moving around too much and they didn't get all the views that they needed* So, yay for the possibility of another granddaughter! Though i'd be just as thrilled either way - so i'll try not to think too much of 'girl' and stay open to hear the news at the next scan.

I'm happy that i'm able to exercise again, after a LONG time when even sitting upright caused pain. Actually i'm not merely happy about that. . i'm ecstatic. I do have to be really careful - but if that's price i pay to be able to move again, i'm careful with a capital C . Its not like i have a choice though. . hmmm. . . what do i choose? relapse back to the dark side of my pain or stay as far away from it as i possibly can?! Stay away!!!!! I'll do anything and everything in my power to avoid going to that place again. I can do my kickboxing again. . i can dance, i can work my muscles again!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Until you can't do something, you will never know how important it was to you.

I'm home, working again. I miss everyone at work. It was a great privilege to be part of their daily lives and i miss that. I miss saying good morning to the girls. I miss going to break with them. I miss laughing at their crazy jokes. I even miss getting dressed up - though i have to say that working barefoot in yoga pants and a t-shirt is pretty awesome!!!

i have to go. . . this was kinda lame, i do hope my thought drought ends soon. I cannot seem to feel any sort of inspiration -- these things happen, i know. . i do feel hopeful for the 'rain' . . .

i've been an unfaithful blogger, its true

Blogger. . i have left you for someone more exciting. . but i've felt bad about it and i'm really sorry. Please forgive me. Facebook dazzled and enticed me away with the free gifts, the graffiti wall, the gardens, the ease of use, the excitement, the drinks, the sheep being thrown -- i'm sorry but you'd be hard pressed to compete. Still, you wait faithfully for my return. I feel terrible. . . . . . NOT!!! Oh, i joke. . but i don't.

I haven't been inspired to write anything. I guess i have enough on my plate being back at work full time - its kinda sucked the creativity out of me. . maybe as I adjust i will feel more like saying something. I hope so. In the meantime, the flash and fun of Facebook has been a nice way to communicate with others. . . a lot more rewarding way, more immediate, more gratifying. It never feels like i'm alone on Facebook like i feel here on Blogger. When i write something in Facebook i feel like it might be and often is read. When i write anything here. . its like i'm sending all my words into a vacuum. Comments may appear, or not. . its frustrating and a little demoralizing.

jiffy post. .

i don't think i've ever posted anything in 5 minutes? here goes. . .

my lawn looks like straw. its full of chipmunk holes. i have neglected my gardens, the perennials are doing their thing and i have planted no annuals. yes, i am ashamed.

I am working once more. i'm so glad to be back at it. . i feel like i have my life back. i'm a productive member of society again. i enjoy the interaction in the office, though its been a bit tough re-acclimating to the physical demands of work, of working out, of doing more in general. I wish someone would wave a magic wand over my spine and fix it all the way. i hate having this condition. . it sux. the simplest things are still challenging. I always have to be so careful about how i move, or how i position myself, how long i do something, i always have to think of ways to minimize aggravation, all my physio instructions, my occupational therapy instructions. . . I have to keep my posture and alignment just so, or i feel jabby reminders. i may be fooling myself in thinking i will be productive for another 20 years. But i can only live in the present and for the present i can do this. i don't want to get thrown into the 'unuseful pile'.

my granddaughter wants to be a princess till the day she dies. she loves my sparkly powder. she always wants to read stories. my grandson is still divergent in his interests, such a cool kid! his love for Elvis does not diminish. They both have cast their spell over me. . Nana is such a sucker for her grandchildren. LOVE THEM! In a blink i will have another grandchild to love. Already i love the idea of this little person. . and i can see the little 'bump' now!

i can't believe my daughters are adults -- both in their 20s. . . both such awesome women. Wow. . . . . . turn around and they're tiny. . . turn around and they're grown. . its not just a cliche, its truth. parenthood changes and the way you view yourself as a parent changes as your children grow.

we had an intense, little storm earlier this evening. storms are amazing. . . fascinating to watch. not so great to drive in!!!

i love spending time with my husband. . 30 years together, this month!!! can it really be that long????!!! how have 3 decades gone by already??!!!!! I'm so glad i went to camp that summer. To think, i had no intention of going!!!

i like the night

the blackness is so calming. . well, in the city its more like the blue/black/light pollution haloness. Its never completely dark, but i love the night. I don't know if i'd love it so much if it was all i had to experience. . but then i wouldn't know anything else and couldn't make any contrasts. The sun is great for what it is and does. It gives energy, power, life -- but sometimes its just a bit too much for me. The sun fries my retinas if i try to look at it. It damages my skin, it makes me feel faint if i'm out in its full intensity. The sun is a friend who just comes on too strong.

Everyone acts different in the daytime. Its interesting. . . daytime = chaos, night time = relaxation. i love to drive at night, its just easier on the blood pressure. Night brings this melow vibe, whether you're cruisin' for ice cream, going out for a walk, swimming, roasting marshmallows. . .The street lights glow, the air smells fresh and damp. Sometimes you get those sultry nights where everything's so close and humid, clouds of insects around the lights, crickets squeaking, sticky air, hard to sleep. Don't like those so much, but there's also something kinda nice about them. Maybe its the sheer joy of bare feet and arms? I try not to complain about heat because its a welcome change from brrrrrrrr. . . winter. . . . . .

I don't get out enough at night. I don't sit out under the sky and feel the air on my skin. I resolve to change that. I do love to gaze at the moon for extended periods. I love to admire the stars. It feels energizing, at half speed. Daytime is energizing at warp speed -- waking, working, doing, going, Daytime feels frenetic and hyper. Nighttime feels tranquil and soothing. I've always preferred the night. Its the time i feel most like me. I need its quietness. The way it falls softly on everything, i can almost hear it. It has a lovely presence, so restorative. I have such a propensity to absorb energy into myself and feel the stresses that come with that; i absorb other people's energy and when it combines with my own, i can easily feel overloaded. Night time is the best time to sigh away the tension, think, relax, be still, unload, breathe -- ahhhhhhh.

silver is not my favourite colour

I like to live with certain illusions, eating dessert often is okay, the clothes in the 'ironing pile' will be taken care of by the chore fairies, our debts will some day be gone, i still have shiny, dark hair. I'm firmly in touch with reality.

Yes, my hair is dark right now, but give it another month and you'd be pulling me aside and saying "Hey, Cruella, don't you think you should see someone about that white stripe?" *BIG SIGH* George Clooney and Richard Gere are very secure with becoming silver foxes. Oh, i wish i could share their bliss. Am i vain? I don't think so, i'm too insecure for that!!! Is this superficial? Of course it is and i chastise myself mentally for fixating on such a nothing deal, yet to me it has 'something' status. Since my greying journey began i've used different, desperate methods to deal with the issue. I've turned to purchasing 'youth assistance' from WalMart -- L'Oreal was good for a while, though i always felt like it looked one dimensional. I gave Garnier a whirl -- BIG mistake. . i purchased some mahoganyish shade -- ended up with purple hair. It was plain embarrassing. I felt like my head was a giant eggplant. It made my skin look sallow. Horrible. I eventually got tired of the self-help colourization and decided to leap into streaks, chunks and went a bit wild with them . . . . ash blonde, caramel, purple, blackish brown -- not all at the same time!!! Funny, i hated having the Garnier purple hair, but fast forward a few years and i'm paying someone to streak some of my hair what colour? Barney purple. Hypocrite! Really though, it was cool! Jenny is my pro and she does a great job of hiding my silver hair, though she actually thinks the silver is cool and that i should just let it shine. BAH!!! As if!!!! I really hate it. It makes me feel different about myself and its not a good different.

When i first started to go grey i was 20 years old. I have a sneaking suspicion that the area of my head in which i first started to have these horrible white strands was the actual area on which had dropped several large tins of frozen juice from my Nana's freezer, as i crawled under there when things were being loaded/unloaded? This was unfortunate and may account for not only prematurely white hair but perhaps for any sort of mental state i'd like to assign to the incident?! But where could i begin?! I used to pull the greys out. Kinda hurt!!! Eventually i had to stop . It reminded me of trying to deal with dandelions on my lawn. . losing battle.

I wasn't ready to resign. I'm still not. I more recently got rid of the streaky look and went with a nice, warm brown. Wow, what a difference!!! People asked me if i'd had a makeover?! I guess so!!! They said i looked 10 years younger (yeah, yeah, that's good. . .) My eyes looked different, they're actually almost greenish gold and i always thought they were just 'brown'. My skin looked different, better different. I didn't want this to change, i wanted to keep the illusion, but nothing ever stays the same and i happen to have very fast growing hair. . so now the silver is re-emerging in a 'halo' around my temples, at the crown. I read Proverbs 16:31 Grey hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life. and i think: 'Geez. . . i must be the most glorious chick around, cuz i'm so crowned!!!' Why do i fight this trivial thing? Shouldn't i be natural? go grey gracefully? embrace my Grandmotherhood (well i do, but i still can't bring myself to embrace the grey) What's my problem? Its good enough for George Glooney. . . but he's a guy! Guys. . this is one of those double standards; greying men look 'distinguished', greying women look 'old'!! I want to reject this and say "Poppycock!" or "Balderdash!" but you know what? its true. I have no grounds for dispute.

So, yeah, i'm developing a skunk stripe and its making me depressed. Time to call 1-800-Jenny!!! I have talks with myself that go like this: "When i'm in my 50s or 60s i'll be okay with it." Yeah, right!!!

whatever pops into my mind

Yesterday i saw pictures of my preborn grandchild! The resolution in ultrasonography has improved so much from the 80s, you just can't compare those greyish/white 'blobs' with today's intricate, any- 'joe'- can- see- the -details. Its amazing the way we can peek into the inner sanctum and see a forming life.

Work is going well, 2 hours shifts, who can complain about that??! I'm getting back into getting up early and being out the door with a purpose. It does wonders for the psyche. Its too easy to feel aimless when every day is wide open with no structure. . its hard to stay motivated. Physio is ongoing and my physical progress is astounding when i think of how it felt when i was deep in the pit and how liberated i now feel -- free of strong narcotics, free of near-total inability, free of mind-addling, spirit sapping pain. I sleep, i have begun to exercise, i feel like i'm able to pick up my life again and take it back. I have turned the corner! I am no longer despair's prisoner. I feel possibility and hope for full living.

My dog weighs 9 pounds, 2 ounces and has a clean bill of health. She had her hair cut and bath last night. She has yet, after all the groomings Rob has given her, learned to relax and let him get rid of that excess fur. She jerks and moves constantly, resistant to the end, panting crazily, uncooperative in the extreme. Its an exhausting process both of them! I usually get drafted to help when it comes to trimming her underbelly. I'm pretty strong and she's pretty tiny - but trying to pry her hind legs apart is surprisingly difficult. I sometimes wonder if her tendons are made of high-tensile steel wire? She's looking very adorable and her fur, which feels like half her weight, is in the compost bin and all is forgiven.

I don't have a name for this colour, hard to describe, but today i discovered another blue to wear besides pale blue. . its very saturated, a cross between turqouise and teal. Looks good with my hair and my skin. It also makes me feel happy. Colour has this way with the brain. . . interesting.

Learning is one of those things that helps with humility. I hope i never get to the point where i think i know a lot, because i think that's the point at which i couldn't be taught and that's the point at which i would begin to harden and seal off. I want to say more but i don't know how to order the thoughts or assign them words. Its been a time of plumbing the depths and being just unable to sound them -- as if they could be. . .

Its little joys that make things so swell -- having more gas in your tank than you realized, catching up on the household paperwork/bills, meeting up with someone you've missed, cooking the rice perfectly, sleeping in a freshly-made bed, feeling at home, finding beauty where you least suspect and feeling the potential of who you aren't yet but one day will be.

is blogging on the way out?

i don't know, what do you guys think? is blogging starting to drop off? Are the interactive cyberactivities that much more fulfilling? Facebook, Myspace, MSN, whatever else there is out there? I find FB easy to use and kinda fun, certainly more instant and more about back and forth 'talking'. There is something about sitting down to write something. I don't think i could ever give that up and yes it is a solitary thing to do but it brings its own reward - letting things come from your heart, your mind, your spirit and giving them shape, choosing the words, seeing what you feel in writing. Its a thrill that 'wall writing' can't even touch. Though you do put yourself 'out there' having phrased your vulnerabilities or vanities, hoping that what you say will resonate with somebody? anybody? help them? give them a smile? and with blogging you always wonder. . .your ego wonders! and i do hear this in other bloggers' posts. . "Does anybody actually read this?"!!! Its even tempting to keep score of how many people visit your site (though this is something i've never done, because i really don't want to know). All things considered, i still enjoy blogging and checking people's blogs. i like to read what they're thinking , what inspires them, what irks them, amuses, all kinds of other things. i love communication but i notice the effect remote closeness has on me. I sit to write, i read other people's writings - feeling connected, yet oddly disconnected. Keeping the world at arm's length, but at my fingertips. Sure its great for keeping in touch with geographically-distant friends/family, but its bizarre that i have more cyber than actual contact with people who live in my own city!!

Why don't people call? visit? These things take precious time. I think the pace of life has almost dictated such innovation. Virtual contact brings control, choice - to read or not, to make comment or not, how to block/inspect comments prior to allowing them, how to keep away the spam, control how much personal information you divulge, choose what time of day or night to access, its very convenient - customizable but relationally stifling at the same time. Do you feel more free to express yourself here and perhaps more inhibited in face to face encounters? Everyone searches out their own methods to make communication technology work for them, this has always been true. I don't know though, there is a different feel in the 21st century. Fewer boundaries? More danger? Is it too much for us? Can we handle it? Technology races headlong and consequences trail in its wake.

We're all in this, i'm not grousing, just making observations. i'm thinking about the implications of computerization as it relates to our lifestyles, our friendships, our ways of informing, sharing, bonding, distancing. . it is interesting. . . .

what did we see????

The day started off calmly - i was the first one up, which i always like. I headed down to the basement where its cool! Ate my bran, did some reading, prayed for a while, then Linds and the kiddies came by for a visit. Its always great when they come over, the energy level in the house rises crazily!!! *good crazy!* The toys come out, the requests for ice cream and drinks, Auntie KK's high heels come out for Eri to walk around in. . . Maggie (puppy dog) never knows which way to play it (hide upstairs where its quieter, or venture downstairs hoping to enjoy some 'floor food' little kids are doggie's BF!) Rob got called in to work cuz something broke down - he was gone for a while, which kind of set our whole day back. It happens!

When Rob got back we all hung out for a bit, but we had groceries to buy, so we went to pick up Mom while Linds and KK continued their visited here with the kids. We went downtown to Food Basics - better prices but neither Rob nor Mom likes this place and they make their disdain for this 'ugly betty' store quite clear, which i simply block out cuz i like bargains!!! We left the store and headed to Mom's to drop her off. This is when it happened. . . .

A man, pushing a baby buggy, walked on the right-hand side of the street. His female partner walked behind him on the outside of the sidewalk, another child walked beside her. The man appeared angry - his features were indistinct at the speed we were driving, but there was an overall darkness around him. As we drove past, he stopped in his tracks, the woman had caught up with him. . . he belted her in the face and put his offending hand back on the buggy handle, continued walking at top speed, mouthing something. Surreal. . did we really see what we thought we saw? Such a short, sharp burst of violence - he struck with cobra-like speed, i've never seen anything like it. She just bowed her head and stared at her feet as she walked. That bothered me more than he did. Mom didn't see this and was talking about something, i don't know what. . . Rob was looking in his rear view as he drove, my head was still turned to see them quickly disappear from my sight line - i could only see her fuschia dress. We kept saying to each other? "Did you see that?" "Yes, i saw. . i can't believe it - if he would do that in public, imagine what he's like at home?"

I wonder if we should have stopped to confront him? What would have happened? Would he go 'postal'? Did he have a hidden weapon? Would he blame her for that too? Likely. . It was so strange. . we went on with our day -- Rob and KK headed out later to the driving range - i did some reading. . . and thinking about this afternoon scene. . . about this family . . . .

spring beauty

bleeding hearts from our garden. such beautifully interesting flowers, delicately suspended from tender vines - like fairy lanterns.
their leaves look lovely in the sunlight, shades of soothing green.











i was charmed by this saggy barn, so ramshackle and weathered. . .











this is the only covered bridge remaining in Ontario -West Montrose, heart of Mennonite farm country. Horse-drawn buggies are driven by calico dress/pinafored women & wide-brim hatted/suspendered men; giving you a nostalgically time-warped feeling.

Niagara Falls

Well, we finally got there. James has been wanting to see the falls in the worst way, so it was time! Stopped off in Welland to see the locks. A huge ship was going through when we got there - freighter, full of iron ore. Didn't get photos of the ship because we'd already done the 'going crazy taking pictures' a couple of years ago. This trip was all about the falls.
Getting through "Niagara-Vegas" was a bit traumatizing. . bumper to bumper, crawling through the gaudy, neon streets was a necessary evil. Lindsay, Rob and I were talking about the chaotic feel of this tourist trap. . . wax museums, criminal museums, fast food joints, junk souvenir stands, amusement rides. . . ugh. . Normally we wouldn't go this way to see the water. . . but the alternate entrance (which also happens to be a bridge to the U.S.) was a no go. . . back up forever.

Here are some pictures of us with Lindsay and the grandkiddies! We had LOTS of fun in spite of the coolness of the air and the intermittent drizzle. The kids were quite thrilled by the majesty of that huge, jade-green river and the thundering water fall emptying into the wide, watery pathway of the Niagara Gorge. Of course there were a few urgent 'i have to pee' moments!!! involving trees and ditches. The ride home was LONG and tedious. . . the 'back way' wasn't so lovely, just endless kilometers of cows, vineyards and nondescript houses. We were all hungry and a bit testy - 2 small kids, a pregnant woman, a sick with a sinus and chest infection woman and a longsuffering man -- recipe for disaster? Could have been, but it got to be almost hilarious and wel had some good laughs. Especially when James, who had his heart set on eating at "Montana's Cookhouse", had become worried that we would never find one . Acre after acre of farmland and tiny towns only served to heighten his restaurant anxiety. His desperation reached its peak when his mother suggested that perhaps we could eat somewhere else *i.e. Wendy's*. He wailed: "But I want fine service! I want special and relaxing service!" We laughed so hard! What a precocious kid. Erica kept mimicking "Fine service, fine service. . . " Hilarious!!! They were really so good though. . . little sweethearts!! We finally did end up at his precious Montana's. We had to leave Green Acres and get back onto the express route. I don't think i was ever so happy to see urban sprawl? Not that farmland isn't beautiful, but on an overcast day, in a van-full of moody, tired, hungry travelers, the appreciation of nature was lost on us. Pulling into the restaurant parking lot was such a relief! The kids (and the adults) wolfed down their food and enjoyed the fine service!!! ha ha! Its amazing how the mood shifts when everyone has had a proper meal. The rest of the way home was nicely peaceful - we had left the monotonous dullness of "Poo-land" *James!* and we occupied ourselves with reviewing digital pics, talking, reminiscing about our fun day! Well, that was another family trip completed. Safe, sound, had a great day, what more could you ask for? And now to plan the next outing!!!

how can i explain?

i don't know how to start. . . so much to say, too much. I feel more than i can see and touch, i hear more than my ears receive, i think past my superficial thoughts - i feel what waits beyond and i know that my life is lived in the shadow of more than i can understand. There is a longing i feel when i'm not preoccupied with myself, with others, with busy work. . with life. Its always there -- i'm just not always aware. When i am, i find it hard to describe. All the similes and analogies seem to have flaws, limitations. "God has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God's work from beginning to end." (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
There, that says it better.

Brian Houston is one of my favourite songwriters. "You Are Mystical" is a wonderful song. My mind goes to this one often. . . especially when i feel so 'unfinished'. The first line of the song has come to mind a surprising number of times. It helps me to understand that its okay if i don't understand. "You are mystical and deep, you take your rest but you never sleep. . ."
The second line comforts me. "You watch me like a mother does, every scar and every tear and fall." The chorus shows the mystery of God, and paradoxically the answer for my questions. "For you're everywhere, in every place, in every time and every space
and every breath that i take, you lend. You're the only one who satisfies, the only one who makes my life make sense." I love and embrace this longing and mystery. I am learning how faith works. "What is faith? It is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see." (Hebrews 11) I am learning to love this restlessness, because its been 'planted in my heart' to keep my spirit alive.

Maternal thoughts

First of all, my very best heartfelt wishes to all of you out there. . . mothers, motherly, nurturing women.

Next i would love to encourage those of you who need encouragement, for any and all reasons you need a boost. If you're a mom and you're busy and frazzled and sometimes feeling a bit like a runaway train in your life, take heart -- you're not alone! (i'm sure you don't need me to tell you that). Breathe, try to pace yourself and enjoy a day of celebration for YOU!!! If you're not a mom and you have had your hope to become one deferred, i hope that your desire will become reality. . and in the meantime i also hope that your maternal instincts are being put to good use --people need them. Maybe being a mom isn't for you, if not, i hope you can celebrate with your own mom, your mom in law, a woman who is like a mom for you, or maybe just feel that collective sisterhood and know your place there.

Some women may find Mother's Day difficult for reasons known only to them. If you're one of those women, i want to wish for you a day in which you can find some peace. For me, mothering is the thing that reminds me of the heart of God --the creative, compassionate, nurturing, loving, forgiving, selfless, protective, powerful heart, who made women to be like those beautiful facets of his being. For me, that gives depth of meaning to a day like this, bursting open the narrower framework of a day for mothers and opening it wide into the expanse of unconditional love, from its source, surrounding and encompassing all of us.

I'd like to share my granddaughter's book with you. . . the story isn't very long and its got a fabulous, affirming message for all mothers, all women, all those who love .

Little Miss Spider popped out of her egg. Swinging down from a thread, she hung on by one leg. Watching brothers and sisters all scooting for cover, she dangled there wondering, 'where is my mother?'. 'Did she squeeze down a hole? or dive underwater? Why won't she come out here and meet her new daughter?"

She decided to climb to the top of a tree. Gazing out on the world, she sobbed, 'Where could Mom be?' A beetle name Betty buzzed by this high perch. 'A child needs a mother. May i please help you search? I don't know for sure, but i'll offer this clue - if i were your mom, i'd be looking for you.'

They flew through the trees spying down from the sky, and asked all the butterflies fluttering by. But none of the insects they happened upon had any idea where her mother had gone. She then asked a small spider - as plump as a pig- 'Have you seen my mom? She's like me, only big.' The sly spider laughed as he gobbled his snack, 'Up there is a mother who's yellow and black.' With a heart full of joy she peered over the straw, but it wasn't her mother that Miss Spider saw. . . it was six hungry hatchlings and a goldfinch who cried, 'Your dinner's here darlings, so open up wide.'

Before she could blink she was whisked out of sight and brave beetle Betty was hugging her tight. In her warm cozy home in the bark of a tree, the kind beetle asked 'Won't you stay here with me?' Then Miss Spider smiled and held Betty fast. ' I looked for my mom and i found you at last!' For finding your mother there's one certain test. You must look for the creature who loves you the best.

changed my mind!

Yesterday i was in a funny mood, so i wrote about not wanting to do all the every day life things that we all must do. I wrote about my desire to sit around in my yoga pants and eat Nutella from the jar all day. Today's a different day and i don't feel pouty and whiny, so i took my draft version of that sucky baby post and i deleted it. Note to self: Don't post self indulgent tripe!

I've been doing a lot of reading and as usual i juggle several books at a time, just to keep things interesting. Maybe its a bad habit. Maybe its just an eccentricity. I'm still working through Prayer and i've also added in Twinkie, Deconstructed, i'm finishing up Fast Food Nation and Speaking My Mind --all rather heavy readings in their own way, so i'm glad that i've been book juggling as FFN and Twinkie both make me so mad!!! *i need to cool down by switching to something different* Speaking My Mind has that tendency, depending on the chapter, but the current chapter is about quantum physics and science and God, so its mind bending, but in a good way. Prayer, I have really been digging in there with this book and as a result am almost finished. Wow, what a book! Its one of those that when you finish you will feel the need to go through it again.

Being off work really allows for lots of time to read, which is one of the ways in which i've been putting my time to good use.

Well, i see that there may be a down time in another minute or two, so i'd better post!

Talk to you later. . .

parking lot rage?

This afternoon i went out to pick up some things at my local grocery/home store. I parked far away so i would get some extra walk time and as i got to the next row of cars i hear this yelling. I witnessed a man in perhaps his late 30s, screaming at a younger man who sat in his idling car, taking this verbal abuse. Everyone was staring including me. We couldn't seem to help ourselves. At first i thought they'd had a bump with their vehicles, but the positioning was off. I don't really know what happened, maybe young, ball-cap wearing guy had cut the older man off or taken 'his' parking spot? The screamer was clearly in need of some serious anger management. His tirade included snippets like : "GOOD! LET THEM STARE!" and "I DON'T CARE IF THEY ALL HEAR! *we all did* 'I HAVE A KID IN THE CAR HERE!! AND YOU THINK YOU CAN HAVE ANY PARKING SPACE YOU WANT?!!' (at which point i thought: Get a grip man! You're gonna burst a blood vessel!). Not such a great example for his kid. I decided to keep walking and i merged with another group of gawkers who were also store bound. I looked at this one man and we rolled our eyes. I said: "I've heard of road rage, but i guess there's also parking lot rage?" He shook his head in agreement and said: "Its summer now." I think there's something to that. After winter, people get a little hyper and crazy. Girls walk around in giggling clutches, guys drive around the streets like idiots, fast and loud -- rumbling and whining motorcycles increase my hearing loss in yearly increments, people start with the tank tops, shorts and sandals when its still too cold! If full moon craziness is lunacy, what is fair weather craziness called?! . . . summer?! BAH!

Anyway, i hope young parking lot guy exercises a little more caution and consideration. Parking lots and streets do contain other people. (if inconsideration prompted that episode? i'm not even sure) and i really hope that older, yelling man learns to control his temper - whether or not his tantrum was justified. And they say that women are drama queens? nu-uh.

"bread" book?

There's fluffy white bread - italian loaf, farmhouse white, wonderbread - no appreciable nutrients, devoid of fibre, gluey, unhealthy junk bread. .

Then there's dense, stone-ground, 12 grain loaf - heavy, fibrous, filling, satisfying and vitamin rich.

Books can be just like bread. .

I'm reading a dense, whole-grain book right now on the subject of prayer. Its simply called "Prayer" . The author is Philip Yancey. I like Mr. Yancey's way with words. I like his doubts and questions. I like how he doesn't just blithely join the 'just believe' camp. He pulls up the log and lets all the creatures underneath crawl out and he examines them - not with disgust, but with a desire for honest learning. Ultimately he comes to the faith side. . . exercising it, living it, believing in the language of prayer and in its power. This is no literary wonderbread. It sticks with you. You can't eat too much at once. It takes time to digest. Prayer seems like a simple thing and to everyone it may bring a different association, reaction, opinion. Some aren't interested in prayer. Some think its okay, follow your own path. Some may be active pray-ers who love their relationship with God and maybe others find the notion of communicating with an invisible someone more than a little bizarre.

I'm in a relationship with God. I'm learning how to live. The world isn't always so good at teaching me. I need a better model. . . so, i'm a life-long apprentice. Though there are certain ways to learn about God and know him: Bible reading, praying, listening to 'sermons', reading "Christian" books, its surprising how many other ways there are to learn: talking to people, reading a billboard while you drive, helping others, watching movies, listening to music, working hard at something, experiencing hardship. I have a very creative teacher. Even so, its easy to get used to living a life of 'faith' and before i know it, i think i've learned plenty and i easily become teflon coated. . . valuable lessons slide right off me cuz i think i've already covered that. This is one of the reasons i bought this book. As i plod my way through it i find myself almost overwhelmed with the sheer magnitude of my ignorance. I thought i knew so much. Shame on me. Sometimes being an apprentice means eating humble pie over and over and over again!!!

I'll leave you with a quote and with that i'll say goodnight.

" Prayer remains a struggle for me. On the other hand, so does forgiving someone who has wronged me. So does loving my neighbour. So does caring for the needy. I persist in prayer because i am fulfilling God's command and also because i believe i am doing what is best for me, whether or not i feel like it at the time. . . The great English preacher Leslie Weatherhead's experience echoes that of many others: 'I have always found prayer difficult. So often it seems like a fruitless game of hide and seek in which we seek and God hides. I know God is patient with me. Without that patience i should be lost. But frankly i have to be patient with him. With no other friend would i go on seeking with such scant, conscious response. Yet i cannot leave prayer alone for long. My need drives me to him. And I have a feeling that he has his own reasons for hiding himself, and that finally my seeking will prove infinitely worthwhile. . . i long for more satisfaction but I cannot cease from questing. Jesus sometimes found prayer difficult. Some of his most agonized prayers were not answered. But he did not give up his praying. I frankly have little to show for all my prayers, but i cannot give up, for my soul longs for Christ and i know that outside God there is nothing at all but death.'

26 years today

Us -- then and now. Wow, its hard to believe that i met this man in 1977, married him in 1981. Its hard to believe that we have adult children. Its even harder to believe that we have grandchildren!! This is my best friend. I knew the week i met him that i would marry him. I didn't tell him at the time *way to scare someone off!* My friends thought i was insane when i shared my intuition at lunch period, first day of school in grade 10!!!! Four years later, 3 months shy of my 19th birthday, we were married. Rob was 1 month away from 20. What were we thinking??!!!! While i wouldn't advise this, there's no disputing the fact that others we know who married much later are now no longer together. We pretty much grew up together and and now we're growing old together?! Bah! Okay, not old. . . we're growing hopefully wiser together!





The stories in all these years. . so many i can't tell them. It would be a novel. So many experiences, trials, joys -- everything together. He knows the real me and i know the real him. When i first met him, he made my heart skip. He still does. Robbie, i know you don't often read this, but if you do, this message is for you: "Happy anniversary. I LOVE YOU!!!Thank you for loving me."

*sigh!* you know what a sucker i am for romance. . .

kitchen fiasco

well i never thought i'd say this, but i did some baking the other day and i regretted it severely. Everything i made tasted like &^%$ Wow, was that ever a waste of time, ingredients and effort. I still feel slightly traumatized. I am trying to eat a more nutritious diet, Rob is doing this with me and everything was going really well until i decided to bake some of the recipes in this book: http://www.gidiet.com/en-ca

While i absolutely recommend the methods and the food choices, etc. for this lifestyle plan, i cannot, in good conscience, recommend baking any of their snacks or desserts. The "peanut butter bars" tasted liked cardboard. The "apple bran muffins" had such a sickly sweet aftertaste, gag me. Oh, man. . . what to do? I have realized that i can't live without baking. . it is like a lifelong form of therapy for me. When i bake, i feel fabulous. I love my tools, my kitchen. . i love beating the butter and sugar together, cracking the eggs, melting the chocolate, assembling a cake, pulling a pan of cookies out of the oven, rolling out a pie crust, working with fruit, spices. The smells, the feel of kneading dough, the sight of shiny, darkly delicious ganache when it cascades in a chocolatey sheet over truffles, cakes. . such a thrill. When i was a little girl there was no food network, in fact there were very few cooking shows, but what few existed, i watched with fascination. The French Chef, The Galloping Gourmet, Ruth Fremes' show on CBC, even the Kraft commercials during the Carol Burnett Show, showing those adept, manicured hands, mixing ingredients in glass bowls *i don't know why they didn't show the whole person, but it was still cool* . . . i loved them all! So, you can see how this ridiculously depressing baking session seemed to threaten an entire lifetime of enjoyment, from my sandbox 'bakery' to mastering a genoise sponge cake. This made me feel like i used to feel when i was 9 years old and my pie crust turned out as tough as shoe leather, or my cookies melted into one thin, brittle mess on the cookie sheet. NOT COOL!!!

So, for 80% of the time I will be a good girl and i will eat well and stick to g.i. index, but when and if i bake anything, it MUST be without splenda, without 'liquid egg product', without enough fibre to choke a horse and i WILL use butter, chocolate, sugar, cream, real eggs and other luxurious goodies! Life is too short to pretend that fibrous gloop can pass for baking. Dear baking, let's never speak of that horrific episode again. . . we'll just have to see a bit less of each other, i love you just the way you are!!!

World Container

Ever get so grooved in with an album you can't stop playing it?!!!! Of course you have!!!! Well, this band: http://www.thehip.com is so playing around and around in my head these days i have to keep playing the disc until i can't play it any more. Problem is, i haven't gotten there yet! play, play, play, play, play. . i love it! The lyrics. . . well they're sort of inscrutable but i absolutely can't resist the pull. Nothing makes sense but it all makes perfect sense. the vocals rock, the rock rocks. My daughters and even Rob, well they were fans before i was. Rob and KK recently saw them live! *lucky ducks*. If you're not familiar with their stuff, check out their site, give a listen to some tracks, maybe? If you love 'em, AWESOME!

night!

p.s. i've given my head a shake and come out of my incoherent funk, i guess you might have noticed? still feel the same, but life is all about learning to live with the tension of living, right? sometimes emotional wrecks like me get wrecked. . . occupational hazard.

whack

what's happening????

why is there such darkness and how is it that some people cross over and swim in it? then pull others down in their undertow.

things are out of whack. things are whack. these random jabs suddenly shake us. no one talks about much else and we all say the same things. we try to make sense of senseless. how hard is that? there's so much going on, here, there. close. far. what to do? why bombs in markets? why displaced and home-less? why pain? why injustice? why mud huts and parasitic water holes? why so many long rows of chocolate bars in fluorescent storehouses? infinity pools at Home Depot? so many colours of paint? cushions at Homesense, with tassles or without? The sky is falling, or the ice caps are melting and the parties on The Hill argue about the cost of Kyoto and incandescent bulbs will soon be gone. We recycled our old computer parts today. I apologize. . .i can't seem to be coherent, but maybe this makes sense?

time to sign off. . next time i'll have pictures and i'll be together, perhaps.

that's love

you took on what you despised, so i could live in paradise, that's love -- that's love
you became the thing you hate, so i could walk through heaven's gate, you gave me life. . .
that's love

you were wronged and turned your cheek
You let them think that you were weak
you had a chance but did not speak
you took my blame. . . that's love

the whip fell down and cut your skin
so i could be redeemed from sin that's love. . that's love
you let them pierce your feet and hands
so i could reach the promised land
you felt my pain. . . that's love


you could have called your angels down, but you wore
that thorny crown and as they gambled for your gown
you bore my shame. . . that's love

you were crushed and bruised and torn
so that i could be reborn. . that's love, that's love
you were slain and broken down
so that i could wear a crown
you saved my soul
that's love

death could not contain your love
you rose and broke its chains with love
and i'm forever changed by love
your love. . . your love