i find these amusing. . .

i was thinking today about words and how funny some of them sound.. .

here's a list of some of my favourites:

hootenany

frigate

oxymoron

behoove

effluvium

jujube

itchy

serpiginous

lollygag

buttocks

ninny

tipsy

spastic

woofer (must include tweeter)

dawdle

jalopy

hijinks

numbskull

pansy

wizened

muumuu

brouhaha

goo

back again

I've been a very negligent blogger, i know.
sometimes lots of things happen but i don't know how to say them
do you know what i mean?
i feel kind of cut off from my ability to put any words together
sometimes we all get so busy living life, we may not take the time to document the details of the living

I've just eaten a peach and some fresh strawberries. . what a treat.
i'm trying to steer clear of unhealthy choices and enjoy the good for you stuff.
I'm reading a fantastic new book "10 Habits That Mess Up a Woman's Diet". Not the 'die with T' kind of diet, but just what kind of foods you eat, diet. I find it inspiring at this moment in my life, as i contemplate being middle aged and trying to do the best i can to avoid unnecessary negative side effects of aging. . it starts now, baby.. an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

I was talking to a friend tonight over tea and we talked briefly about getting all our news from the computer home page, just reading the headlines and skimming them in order to stay current, without the daily depressing broadcasted details. However, the home page 'news' is often a ridiculous assortment of stuff that passes for news. Pseudo news.
Why?
I'm not sure. . maybe the 'public' keeps this stuff circulating by eating it up with a spoon?
Why do i want to know that Lindsay Lohan kissed a girl and she liked it? is she a lesbian? who cares?!!
Brad and Angelina's twins have colic. . if that is actually true. . this needs world attention? pfftt! my babies both had colic. . big whoop
Baby bump watch - so yeah, apparently celebrities are always getting pregnant!!!
that means they're human, just like us!!!!OMG!! Sure. . we're just like them, with our nannies, chefs, personal trainers and stylists. AND we also go back to spinning and capoeira classes the day after giving birth.
Britney Spears' mother sold our her daughter by writing a tell all? This is unfortunate, not to mention low, but its just one more BS 'news' item, isn't it?
I thought after a bit of a break from the constant BS coverage that maybe they'd just stop. . . now they're off and running with more stuff - sales must need boosting.
Lily Allen told Sir Elton to eff off?! Is it treason to cuss out a knight? I'm not entirely sure who Lily Allen is. .
sigh. . 'news' should be new, none of this crap is new. .
sometimes it seems like there are only these celebrity people in the world and we real people are bombarded by often dubious details of the minutiae of their lives. It would seem that we exist just to be witness to their 'glorious' existence?
again, pffffttt!!!

anyway, i think i'm gonna go read for a bit. . it wasn't a bad Monday, really. My lack of sleep last night after another ridiculous bout of insomnia is beginning to tell at this point in the evening. . so, rest well, children.
good night.

on being an emotional creature

its like this. .
feelings run the show for me
i don't always like it
but i can't seem to escape it
they ARE the boss of me!

feelings are bossy things.
they're not very rational
they're fiercely strong
sometimes completely out of control
dragging me along underneath
stinging, smarting and paining
sometimes they fly on notion and impulse
and i hold on for the ride

if they could be embodied, there are days i would hug, kiss and thank them
and days i could scold, smack and even drop kick them.
they take me off course, they waylay and even strand me
they bring me to wonderful emotional places i never want to leave
but they can just as easily leave me in flat desolation and take off without me
and i wonder when they'll come back and make me feel like me again?

love

i've been thinking lately.
i don't think there is anything that can eclipse love
this force to be reckoned with
but who can reckon with, work out, calculate, think, estimate, or to take it into account?
the whole world runs on love
not gasoline
not money
not commodities. .

i think love wrecks you in the best possible way
wrecks your ego and your selfishness
wrecks your plans
wrecks you for settling for substitutes
substitution leaves a trail of broken souls
its true.
we wrestle with love
and we mistreat and misname love
and we shame love
and we blame love

love is more than we understand
more than we can process with grey matter
more than us
and our travails and our pursuits.
more than our fairy tale notions of what it feels like
looks like, acts like
and more than the roles we assign ourselves in the grand story
there are so many things that its not
and only one that it is . . .
pure


love is bigger than our attempts to contain it
as if we could stop the tides
or embrace the sun.
why do we think we can harness love and
assign it, dispense it like a controlled substance?
to those we deem deserving. . .
like we can handle purity with our filthy paws
and our grimy hearts and not understand that this isn't how love is

love is not a thing to had
love is a being, love is God.
i believe in love because i believe in him.
belief, disbelief? our certainty either way
doesn't change that love is him. . he is it
and he gives it and we take it
and don't see him in the gift
and we manhandle it and pass it around
but we don't give it back to him
and love suffers
we suffer,
cut off from the source
love deteriorates and we don't realize it
or do we?
i think we do.

i live with this longing to know love
to know God
i've squelched this yearning at times on purpose, or simply set it aside
it was like i was wearing blinders or my heart was frozen
where was he? where was i?
nothing made sense.

when i fell in love with my husband, i thought "this is real love" and it really is. but i used to feel like i was living the love songs, the chick flicks, the princess stories. . and i ate it all up and wanted more.
i had tacked this foolish and incomplete notion of love onto my heart
and wondered why it kept falling off and getting all dirty and trampled whenever i felt let down or unappreciated, or when grief or hardship came along
i soon realized that i didn't really have a clue what love was

love is not about gathering beautiful feelings or contentment or warm fuzzies into myself
love is pouring myself out. . not only to those who i know and hold in my heart,
but especially to those i know and don't hold dear. .
and this pains and smarts to do this and it works against my inclinations
i don't really like this
but this is love too


love comes from its source
there is no love apart from him
i have struggled to have this make sense sometimes,
so much talk of love, love, love, love all the time, everywhere, but
what is it really???? certainly not the conditional variety we seem to prefer.
certainly not the insulated, cozy coccoon in which to settle and enjoy, cherishing our tightly-woven relational circles
love is being angry with injustice
love is hurting for those who feel pain
love is seeing into people and appreciating their worth

what would this planet be like if all love was sucked out of the population?
what would happen?
what would emerge to fill the huge vacuum?
chilling.

i'm not sure why its easy to be blithe,
accustomed to
feeling entitled to love?
i've seldom thought so much about it
but as i do lately, i lose my footing and fall out of the notion(s) of what i thought it was and sink into the reality of who love really is
and here i find myself wanting to let go of false and take in true
love

intimate and interactive

rethinking 'intimate' is on my mind lately
not because i'm averse to the commonly held notion of intimacy
not that its wrong
intimate is good. . but its more than
we think it is.
I want to expand that concept to be
inclusive
i want to push out that 'personal space' to make some room
i don't want to shrink from
being close

i want to reorder my thoughts, my heart
i want to be new
with old wisdom
that leads me
to the place of intimacy
like its meant to be
not how its always been perceived or practiced

i think 'intimacy' is misunderstood, even misrepresented.
people can be intimate, close, even adoring
but always there will be
some sort of division
some sort of withholding
no matter how 'big' we say we love
there is always a smallness to it
and a taint of self.
the things love requires,
we don't have the stomach for.
surrender
submission
we can warm up to the perverse interpretations
we give those two words
that just comes naturally.
but i'm thinking of the deeper, spiritual surrender and submission
of coming to know how to
let go
of self
and be given over to the one,
and there is only one and no other,
who knew your name before your parents conceived you
who saw your forming body
who gave you unique fingerprints
who set your heart muscle into life-giving rhythm
who numbered the hairs on your head
who remembers every moment you don't
who knows the pre-formed words in your mind before they are spoken
who knows all that lives within even the darkest recesses of your heart
and who doesn't push back and turn his head?

what lovers' kiss could be more intimate
than God breathing life into your unseeable and untouchable inner self?
can there be more intimate connection than being loved by someone without reservation
or cut off point?
this is what i want
nothing else

human intimacy waxes and wanes
it runs hot and cold
its incomplete,
lacking, even in its glory,
for it often is glorious --
it blanches and pales
when held up to the light of Him

vulnerable.
so leery of letting down our guard
people don't like to be vulnerable
harm comes to the weak
and weakness can feel shameful to us

Intimacy brings us to
vulnerability.
But we can appear vulnerable and not be.
sometimes we want to hide from being intimate
i guess its the risk
it can be too costly.

We may play games with each other,
but how can we escape intimacy
from the one who can't be played?
how can we lie to one who can't be duped?
can't
do
it.
even the illusion
of trying is pointless
that's life without true intimacy.. .
the illusion of pointlessly trying to evade and
run away from the kind of intimacy we crave
yet fear.
the position of
having no position, no defense --
that's real intimacy.
being viewed
in the searchlight of God
with no leg to stand on,
no excuse
flattened in surrender
knowing you deserve the worst
and being embraced

to be intimate is to choose to be.
choose the degree.
choose the intensity.
choose illusion or truth
but choose.

If intimacy was your home
who would be left on the step and who would be let in?
and how 'in' are they allowed?
are there bars on the windows?
a sawed off hockey stick in the sliding door?
dead bolts?
alarm system?

learning curve

learning is so much easier for children
adults have a much harder job of it
there's a lot we have to unlearn in order to learn
there are obstacles that must be removed
we've worked so hard to get here -
the place of knowing
we've have had decades to become set,
like cement
nothing sinks in.
nothing short of a jackhammer can break up that concrete
noisy mess
destruction
removal of what was known
being in the place of unknown
relearning
feeling unwise, humble and small
hopeful

do you ever wish?

i suppose its possible for people to go the whole span of their lives
without ever seeing anything truly fantastic
and i also suppose it depends entirely upon your definition of 'fantastic'

i'm inclined to think that there is so much fantastic going through us
and past and around us every day
and we are unaware
we are.

i often fail to notice the spectacular, especially when daily routine throws a cloaking device
over marvels and mysteries.
i miss things
when i take so much for granted the way i do

simple things that used to boggle my mind, but no longer seem to. . .
what is grass made of? i don't mean the breakdown of elements and such
but i want to know where did the elements come from? and how, together, do they make a blade of grass?

how is a grouping of rapidly dividing cells able to form a person?
i've read all about the particulars of cellular mitosis and division
and time tables of when and how and amniotic fluid and blood supply
but how are the cells given their widsom to do these things?
how does the soul/spirit permeate a developing human?
and how does it separate from the body with that last breath?
these things are fantastic.
mysterious

but somehow, i can only see grass and babies
these are miracles
they are things we could never replicate
or duplicate

computers are intricate servants
we have created
with chips and glass and wires
running the world now.
how fantastically frightening and thrilling
and yet sometimes all i see is keyboards and monitors
i hear about RAM and bits and bites and binary code
and i'm not amazed
am i crazy?

once we become familiar with something
we lose our wonder
looking for the bigger fix

i watched a movie last night
adventure
exotic places
amazing natural wonders
far-fetched and extreme situations
and i thought to myself:
"When have i ever seen or experienced anything so colossal?"
and i answered myself. . . "never"
and i'm sure everyone else in that theatre would say the same
which is why we were all there
vicarious bunch.
drinking in stories, true or not
with endless thirst for more

more amazement
more fantasy
to escape reality?
or to point to our destiny?

do you ever wish to be amazed?
astounded? shaken from the mundane?
i do. .
but i've begun to realize that perhaps i have been
and didn't even know it

puzzling

some things exist but i really wonder why
i've been making a mental list and it goes like this:

Cheez Whiz
processed 'cheese food' / aka 'heart attack in a jar' WHY?! (goopy garbage!)

ditto for 'pork rinds'. . . yuck. What area of the 'rind' do these come from?? snout? 'nether regions'? gah.

back hair -- strange phenomenon, that is

centipedes -- these are not only crawly and gross to look at, but they're lightning fast and that makes them even scarier. . I cannot help screaming every time i see one

pale blue eyeshadow (this doesn't look very good on anyone)

pleather - sausage casing for humans,

vegemite??? spreadable brewing byproduct. .brown, yeasty and certainly nasty

plumber's butt?! ugh, this is gross

unsynchronized traffic lights -- stop, start. . drive one block, stop again and repeat and repeat

chocolate-flavoured 'baking chips'?! these are an abomination
right up there with artificial flavour extracts. .

'greenlawn' services calling our house every night at supper (thank God for call display!!) wouldn't they get the hint after several months of no one answering their call?

tapered leg, light denim 'mom' jeans??!! i'm seeing too many of these out there, people.

President's Choice "Chipotle Smokies Sausages" with 22 grams of fat per 100 gram sausage (BAD things come in small packages) boourns to Galen Weston for that craptastic fat content

"Just One Drop" 'bathroom product'.. "Just a drop before you 'go' eliminates embarrassing odour." Now there will be potentially millions of people out there whose 'sh#$ don't stink', literally. This seems oddly pleasing, doesn't it?
So this one doesn't really count.

shorts -- knobby knees, white skin, bandy legs and a whole lotta skin surface area that usually doesn't need to be shown - maybe they should only be worn by athletes and people with fantastic legs? (shorts frighten me!)

"Kraft Dinner". . . this stuff bites. Tiny, little insignificant tubes of pasta with that little sachet of freeze dried, powdered 'cheesy dust' your pour into the pot along with milk and butter. How do i hate thee, KD? let me count the ways. . to infinity and way beyond.

canned beets -- i have distant, childhood memories of these stinkers. I've never tried anything beety since.. can't seem to work up the courage

toilet paper rolls that won't 'start'. . . i've fought too many battles with these things, ended up with strips and shreds instead of squares.

shiny, shampoo add hair. . why don't i see this on anybody except the shampoo commercial models? Are they all wearing glossy wigs???! where can i get one?!!!

i'm so angry, why??

its getting really out of hand
my anger
everything and everyone makes me mad
traffic
people
people
traffic


i don't understand it
but i think i'm having a meltdown
i don't want to go back to work after being on holiday for a week and a half
i told Rob i wish i could call in sick for the rest of my life
or retire
i wish i could have a personality transplant
i wish i was mellow and easygoing

in the dentist's chair

i'm not sure why i don't like going for dental visits
i don't often have cavities, so its not like its painful
i still always find myself gripping the arms of the chair with whitish knuckles
and leaving the office with a tension headache.

don't you find it funny that when hygienists or dentists have every tool in their tool box crammed into your mouth, then want to carry on a conversation with you?
and all you can do is reply "mmmmffff"
can't even really nod your head or one of those sickle-like tartar scrapers might jog over and pierce your gums

i hate that scraping sound
also hate how it feels like they're scraping them within an inch of their enamel. . ugh
doesn't take long,
but its not the most pleasant thing, is it?

i had the drool bib chained to my neck like always
and that always makes me feel like a doofus.
There's not much to look at, the ceiling, the masked face of the person working in your mouth, the little stuffed creature was on top of the lamp,
a small grey mouse wearing a blue hardhat, a little bizarre, yes.
not the usual bunnies or chickies that are in the other treatment rooms.
Then came the brand new thing in the check up routine
Sunglasses??

The hygienist said: "Now, Kathy, you can put on these glasses,
to prevent glare from the lamp." I took them and put them on.
I said to her: "I feel strangely like Bono". . which she thought was hilarious.
Felt kinda odd, reclining with my spit bib on, looking like Bono, while having my teeth scraped.
The girl said "Well, wouldn't it be nice to have his money?"
and of course i said : "Mfff hmmfff", mouth full of pokey, steel instruments
and of course 'we' talked more about gardening and crappy weather, vacation bargains and such.. . . she talked, i mumbled unintelligibly. . but the strangest thing
is all these dental people seem to understand you perfectly!
its like they've all taken a course or something

i don't know if have any cavities, the dentist wasn't there today
but i was assured they would call me if the x-rays showed anything
i'm crossing my fingers, don't want to break my lucky streak i have going

oldness

i have this aversion to 'old'
there's something so gross about aging
i have a real problem with it, always have
wrinkling and sagging,
shuffling and stooping
i find it all so distasteful
senior's moments, dentures, white hair
debility and weakness
i seems like such a cruel way to end up
after experiencing the excitement of childhood, the vigor of youth
and the productivity of the middle years
to end curled up and dried up
so undignified
so wrong

i had a grandmother who always looked 'old' to me
but she didn't live 'old'
she was kickin' and spittin'
feisty, independent
outspoken
smart
talented
compassionate in her actions
and amazing in the kitchen
for a time in my youth i had this notion that she'd never die
i thought of my grandfather in the same unrealistically immortal way - forever in his study, reading, writing for various publications, wearing his pile-lined slippers, eating his licorice
they seemed ageless to me
but time was not kind to them
strokes, bypasses, cancer
gone
time is that way with all of us
its like a double-edged sword, it can by its passage, bring promise and maturity, assuage grief, impart fantastic memories,
but it turns to cut us right in half in a matter of just decades
reducing us to mere shadows of our former selves
cruel

i know its all bravado to make claim that i will not succumb
i am fiercely determined to stay vital
still i feel the claws of age sinking in to my bones, wearing them away
so i take calcium and magnesium, i lift weights, i dance, eat good food
to keep the monster at bay
i think about my heart valves
i wonder about the condition of my arteries
i think about my liver and my lungs
i think of my muscles - i don't want to lose strength
who wants to be weak?

I wear my garlic necklace for the vampire of old age
but i don't think its working
I know decline is inevitable
i know i can't stave it off forever.

i can't read small print without my glasses
i hate this
my optometrist calls it 'middle aged focus'
I buy skin creams and treatments,
but still i see small lines on my face where none existed
i have 'white roots' which i battle to smother in colour
i have pain daily which grumbles on a good day
and roars on a bad one.

the 'circle of life' (sorry for the unfortunate Lion King association here)
is what it is
the part where you start off in diapers and eat baby food is adorable
the part where you end up in the same state,
well there's just nothing cute about that now,
is there?

how long to sing this song?

it seems i'm good when it comes to lamenting
too good
i write enough about my 'feelings'
and God knows i think enough about them!
sometimes i get sick and tired of my angsty thought processes and i just wanna
yell to my own brain:
SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!!

the more self runs the show,
the more spirit gasps and weakens
the natural dichotomy, summed up
but i don't want to be 'natural'

its hard to live with major issues that remain unresolved
in a way i feel like the Queen of the Crowded Heart
adaptation is an interesting phenomenon
adapt to loss
adapt to struggle

but no protection is completely impervious
there are chinks in the armor if you look closely
usually though, people don't have time to come in for a close look

someone did this morning
and it surprised me, i didn't see it coming
a friend at work asked me "How are you doing?"
of course i said 'fine'
She challenged me to stop lying. .
and it jarred me
in a good way
i guess she could see through me?
and she was right

most of the people i work with think that the sun shines out of my ass
and this, they say in lunch table joking, bugs them.
i always tell them that if i was transparent
they'd probably all wanna find another table across the room!
even though i feel the sturm und drang within
i compress it and force it down
this may not be not great,
but it feels better to live above that stuff

anyway, i really appreciated the reality check
she's been anything but 'fine' lately herself
and i think is trying to make sense of all that she's experienced.

i said to her: "You know, you're right. . we shouldn't be afraid to be authentic, with each other . .what are we so afraid of?"

coming up for air

sheesh. . things are so nuts lately.
can you relate?
work is well, the 'b' word. . i hate that word cuz it is THE default response to every "How are you" query.
"How have you been?" "Oh, bu@y"
"How was your weekend?" "It was so bu@y. . i need an extra day to recover"
crazy bu@y. .
insanely bu@y
too bu@y
friggin bu@y

i don't like to say that i hate a word, but i am very loathe to even mention it or THINK it, cuz it gives me heart palpitations.
However, i'm not so hypocritical that i don't admit to dwelling in the very state i despise - the state of bu@y. . bu@y state (b.s. for short)

Rob's mom has been so ill. . and now has come here and is staying in our spare room
until she recuperates a bit more. She's had quite a bad winter, and now this badness is extending into spring for her.
We sure hope she turns a corner VERY soon.

Rob and i are entering the demographic called the "sandwich generation". . .
new phase, next wave. .
life is interesting folks
and tiring
and joyous
and beautiful
not to mention perplexing
role reversing
unpredictable

want to say

i want to say something worth something
but i've really had such a dearth of sayable things lately
its a mystery to me why sometimes words flow out of me like a swollen spring river
and other times they're dried up, dessicated
and i feel so out of control in that whole process
never have been in control
and now i'm tired
and i'm in a funny mood
and its a work night
and i haven't made my lunch yet
and i should be in bed

i hope you're well?
are you?

good night

words

i heard some not so commonly used words in movie dialogue tonight:
hubris
perjorative
subsume

i found that exciting because
i love words, vocabulary
love the sound of them
love using them
love reading them

but i do love words for more than function

i'm fascinated by the power they contain

and yet terrified. .

i don't think we understand words in this context. . .

sometimes i think we humans talk too much

sometimes i think we don't talk enough

overcommunicate

fail to communciate

miscommunicate

the weight of words, their power
their link to action
what we say has a direct effect on what happens
or doesn't
speak too soon and it can be diastrous
speak too late and its the same thing
speak too much and the overflow of words spills away like run off
speak too little and the words dry up along with your ability to have a say
speak without action. . .
blah, blah, blah
act first, speak after = regrets, damage
speak lies = destruction
speak love = restoration

speechless?
does that happen often?
i think too little
and what can stop words?

awe -- is that something humanity is still capable of feeling? dropped jaw, dumbfounded

disaster -- often snatches the words from our mouths

sorrow -- smothers words, makes us put our hands over our mouths, physically showing that we have none

realization -- running smack into the brick wall of undisputed truth -- open mouthed, no sound

i think the trick is balance and wisdom
knowing when to speak and what to say
controlling the flow of words so there's no waste
but making sure to speak when its called for
understanding how your words affect others
knowing that from the overflow of your heart, your mouth speaks
what's in the heart?
whatever comes out of our mouth.

complaints
unkindness
criticism
f bombs and talk of excrement
hope
encouragement
double entendres
infidelity
truth
gossip
grace
love
prejudice
curses
blessing
prayer

i think i'm a bird killer

I was heading in to work this morning, early. . . around 7:15 (well, that's early for me anyway!)
Driving along on my patented 'short cut' route for the impatient and speedy,
I made a left turn, rounded the corner and accelerated. That's when it happened.
You know how birds fly in small groups and they do that swoop, then rise thing of theirs?
Well, the front of my van met one bird still in the swoop.
I looked in my rearview and didn't see it pull up at the last minute.
I have a feeling it ended up on the grassy boulevard.
It was a plump, little robin -- harbinger of spring.
That's right, i killed spring, which is why the day started off kind of warm, then got considerably colder. . its all my fault!
I feel bad.

love random!!!

today, i took my afternoon walk break through the hospital.
my lovely place of employment
i walked through the "A" wing, swung around the bend in the hall and took the furthest stairwell down to the basement level (this is part of my 'i can't stand sitting on my butt any more and i must get up' daily ritual).
On the landing of the stairwell sat this huge, random chair!
i realize this is not terribly exciting,
but there's never a chair there, it was so random

i don't know why but i love to see random things in places where they don't belong!

we have a running joke in our family. .

say we're driving along. .driving.. suddenly there's a shoe sitting in the middle of the road. One of us will say: "Random shoe". Then we laugh. ha ha ha haha. .we find this funny.

last spring i happened to look out the front room window and saw a woman walking a small horse. Random!! The whole family was here, having family lunch. We all went outside to talk to this woman and pet the pony.

i was in the lunch room the other day, fishing a pear out of my lunch bag. Janey was also in there getting something. I looked in the bag and 'bing'. . sitting on top of my food sat a random white serviette with "I love you" written in pen (Rob made my lunch). Random surprise! Yeah, i got made fun of. those girls have no romance in their souls! i did get a few "awww's" though.

Speaking of lunch. . . today i was digging around in my lunch bag pocket to see if i had a knife to loan Louise. . i did!
in the pocket i found a random, yellow ju jube!
of course i ate it
it was a bit stale though.

for me, "random" almost seems magical -- i didn't see it get there, it doesn't belong there, but is suddenly just there. i like that. .
a little randomness punctuating the routine pattern of every day.

what i won't do to travel. . . and other random things

a couple of years ago i won a trip for two to a 5-star resort in Mexico.
It was a DREAM holiday and we LOVED every minute of our grand prize trip!!!

I was sitting on the couch the other morning, going through the grocery, store flyers and i saw a coupon/special offers booklet with a nice-sounding travel prize. .

I yelled out to Rob, who was in the dining room, "Robbie! We need to travel again. Look up the website www.cottonelle.ca!" He did and its one of those 1 entry per person per day. I like those. . the more entries the better. I guess it sounds lame that i think entering contests is our way of going on trips!? but it worked once. . it could happen again?!

The name of the contest campaign is a little unfortunate. . .

"Be Kind to Your Behind" sweepstakes. .

its sponsored by a manufacturer of toilet paper

i figure i can be kind to my behind by giving it another chance to sit in a 5-star beach chair! I wish!


and now for the random --

My granddaughter told me the other day: "Nana, I'm marrying Connor." I feigned surprise. . "Oh, really honey?!" Eri sounded nonchalant: "Yeah, i was going to marry Donovan, but he moved to Preston and I changed my mind." Oi! she's 4!!!!

An observation. ..

Canadians are crazy. . I say this with utmost love and all, being Canadian myself.
It can be fffreezing outside in this part of Canada in March, like it was today.
The sun shines and jazzes everyone. . and people start going outside with bare arms while there are still piles of snow everywhere?! It makes no sense. . but then again we're a desperate lot.

I watched a bit of a TLC show last night. . a thin British hypnotist was telling an audience of unthin people that they could control their impulses by tapping on their cheekbones, then collar bone, then cheekbone again, then the outside of their hand, while humming the first couple of bars of "the Birthday Song", looking down to the right, down to the left, around in circles one way, then the other -- don't stop tapping. . and voila, impulse is diminished? umm, yeeeah. Then came the call (host) and answer (audience) : "What should you do when you're hungry?" "EAT!" "What should you eat?" "WHAT WE WANT!" "How should you eat it?" "CONSCIOUSLY!" gosh. . i don't even know what kind of snappy, smart-ass comment to insert here!! If i consciously eat whatever garbage i want, every day will that do the trick? People are desperate? stupid? This guy's a sheister. . huckster, he's laughing all the way to BIG money, profiteering by making people tap themselves black and blue, rolling their eyes and singing Happy Birthday ?! BAH!!

 
 
 
 

just another day off work?

Good Friday
day off work and school
everything is inconveniently shut down
less time to buy marshmallow bunnies and hoola hoops

does a massive hush spread over the globe in honour of the most pivotal moment in history?
hardly
hardly at all
the liquor store is closed and no one can buy their beer

some people don't know anything about Good Friday
why is it called good?
what does that mean?

for me it means imaging what it would be like to be universally supreme
and amazingly not obliterating anyone who displeased me
even more amazingly, loving the ones who tested my love to the limits

it means agreeing then to be born into a mere body
growing up human, with all of those frustrations
still retaining my pure, uncompromised holiness
teaching and breathing reviving love
into the ones i created, who had died in their spirits. . . cut off from me
and having my heart wrenched and torn in the process and my body beaten and broken for them

it means bearing the collective tonnage of their sin, past, present and yet to be committed. . .. having it suffocate and invade my holiness. . .
genocides, homicides, wars, despair, grief, mental and physical disease of the billions, all manner of degredation, every heinous, vile act against every victim in the world's history piled high upon me, squeezing out my life, faces, voices, cries in my head, before my eyes

knowing that this was the only way to break sin's chokehold on them was the only thing that kept me strong enough to bear it

they were so worth every drop of blood,
not a drop was wasted. . . in my eyes their value is infinite
i could not leave them enslaved by independence,
shackled by pride
perishing and unaware
they needed me and i loved them deeply, to the death
and beyond


for me this is the heart of Christ on Good Friday.
this is what the Bible tells me about Good Friday
this is what happened
this is good??
this sounds bad
this should be Black Friday
my daughter thinks 'murderous mob Friday' (all the ones shouting for his death)

you may say this is hard to believe
you may not be comfortable
you may think i'm crazy
you may not care
you may be in tears, thinking of him
you may want to kiss his feet

however you feel,
belief or disbelief,
nothing changes the truth
not rejecting it
not ignoring it

nothing diminishes Love
not disregard
not pride
not indifference

Today WalMart was not open
no cheap chocolate was bought
the grocery stores were dark
the dollar stores were empty
But the sacrifice of Christ was reflected upon and appreciated by many
and that is good but the joy of Easter isn't in the death
for there is nothing joyful in that.
its in celebrating the resurrection,
and that is really good.