For some reason, the words of this Martyn Joseph song have been going through my head today.
Strange kind of friend
If you ain't got no questions
And you ain't on the ride
Maybe you're fine where you are
No mystery no magic
No pain in your eyes
Maybe you stepped out of the car
And the rain is a strange kind of friend of mine
The rain is a strange kind of friend
Lost my soul in the sound of the rain again
My strange friend
Engines are running
On a highway of tears
There's not many answers to steal
You can ride down this road of great mystery
Or fall asleep at the wheel
I know where I've got to go
The only thing that I know
It's calling me
I know the sun's got to rise
Over these merciless skies
No, it didn't rain today. In fact, it was a beautiful sunny day. A perfect Autumn day. Crunchy leaves, cool breeze, warm sun. It was a day of Thanksgiving here in Canada. A day for family, a day for relaxation and leisure. A day when the sun was shining not only literally but figuratively.
Maybe that's why the song was going through my head today. Not all days are sunny like today. Not all days are are full of warmth and leisure. Some days the rains come. Some days are lonely, painful and cold. But those days are part of what makes us whole. Those days bring growth despite the pain. It's all part of the mystery and magic of life. Those days, the rain is a strange kind of friend of mine.
I remember the rain as I gaze up into the sunshine.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Saturday, October 08, 2005
It's been a Slow kind of day
These days, many of us live in fast forward – and pay a heavy price for it. Our work, health and relationships suffer. Over-stimulated, over-scheduled and overwrought, we struggle to relax, to enjoy things properly, to spend time with family and friends. The Slow movement offers a lifeline. It is not a Luddite plot to abolish all things modern. You don’t have to shun technology, live in the wilderness or do everything at a snail’s pace. Being “Slow” means living better in the hectic modern world by striking a balance between fast and slow.
That's a little bit about what In Praise of Slow is all about. I read it a couple of weeks ago in airports, airplanes, and hotel rooms. My favourite moment was curled up in bed in a hotel room that was a throw-back to the seventies, listening to the rain outside my window, and ignoring everything else but my book.
Part way through the day today, I realized that it was indeed a Slow kind of day. There was nothing "over-stimulated, over-scheduled or overwrought" about it. It was just plain old Slow. And it was a delight.
In the book, the author (Carl Honoré) explores several different Slow movements that have popped up around the world. Here's how my day was a representation of a few of them.
That's a little bit about what In Praise of Slow is all about. I read it a couple of weeks ago in airports, airplanes, and hotel rooms. My favourite moment was curled up in bed in a hotel room that was a throw-back to the seventies, listening to the rain outside my window, and ignoring everything else but my book.
Part way through the day today, I realized that it was indeed a Slow kind of day. There was nothing "over-stimulated, over-scheduled or overwrought" about it. It was just plain old Slow. And it was a delight.
In the book, the author (Carl Honoré) explores several different Slow movements that have popped up around the world. Here's how my day was a representation of a few of them.
1. Slow Food - The Slow Food movement is all about taking pleasure in the preparation of food, honouring the history of food, enjoying the sharing of food, and using natural local foods as a way of getting closer to the source of our food. Today, I did Slow Food proud. I started my day by making chicken broth out of yesterday's chicken bones. For lunch, I cooked chicken noodle soup with the leftover chicken and some good old fashioned Mennonite noodles, just like my Grandma used to make. (No, I didn't make the noodles, like Grandma used to do, but I did buy them from a genuine Mennonite source.) Then I made another large pot of creamy carrot soup with locally grown carrots, and of course, a little ginger. The second pot of soup will end up in the freezer. After the soup was all cooked, I gutted, chopped, cooked, mashed, bagged, and froze 4 pumpkins from my father-in-law's garden. I even cleaned the pumpkin seeds and laid them out to dry - we'll roast them another day. We'll be eating lots of pumpkin pie, muffins, loaf, etc. this winter. Anyone have any good pumpkin recipes? :-)
2. Slow Cities - No, I don't live in one of the neighbourhoods Honoré describes in his book, where traffic is slowed down, there's lots of space for pedestrians, local shops are easily accessible by foot, and houses have front verandas instead of backyard decks. In fact, we live on a fairly busy street. Too busy. But that doesn't mean we can't do our part to slow down, stay out of our cars, and value what's accessible. The girls and I set out on foot twice to local shops. First it was to 7-11 for Slurpees (their favourite drink that they're only allowed on weekends), then later it was off to the local grocery store for supper ingredients. It's not the cheapest place around, but it's locally owned and within walking distance, so I support it whenever I can. I don't want it to disappear and end up trampled by the long line of megastores that keep popping up.
3. Raising an Unhurried Child - I think my mood wore off on the kids today, because they were pretty relaxed. Julie spent lots of time reading and Maddie spent nearly 2 hours on the floor building lego creatures with her dolly propped up next to her (she's rather attached to dolly these days - she even made the trips to the stores with dolly on her back.) (Nikki was at a friend's place.) When I was cleaning out one of the kitchen cupboards, Julie discovered the cookie press we hadn't used in a long time, and so we made cookies. Flower cookies, star cookies, and cookies that look suspiciously like hotdogs. We took our time, and of course, they got to lick the beaters. :-)
4. Slow Work - I got lots done today, but I definitely didn't work at a frenzied pace. I took breaks to make cookies, walk to the store, and help the girls find markers to draw on the big paper I found while cleaning up. I fairly successfully avoided all thoughts of work, and chased the stress away every time it tempted to creep in. Of course, good music always helps the mood, so we cranked a little Jann Arden, Martyn Joseph, and then some Proclaimers to get us going.
6. Mind - Yes, it was a "Slow Thinking" kind of day. No, I didn't find the time for yoga or meditation, but I stayed away from sources of over-stimulation (eg. television), and let my mind wander as I cooked and cleaned and pressed cookies. I love the places the mind finds to visit when it isn't pre-occupied with too much work or stimulation. Do you know, for example, how much like a row of gondolas docked along a canal in Venice a row of pumpkin wedges can look?
7. Bodies - Our brains weren't the only things functioning on slow mode. Our bodies were pretty relaxed too. Even our walk to the store was slow. Julie commented, "Mom, I don't think we've ever walked to the store this slowly before." :-)
5. Leisure - At the end of the day, when I could gaze with pride at all that I had done, and all that was ready to go in the freezer, I sat down with a cup of tea in my favourite mug and a couple of cookies. Aaaahhh!
Now it's almost time to crawl into bed. After the week I've had, it will be a treat to lie down with a relaxed mind after a unhurried day. Besides all that cooking, I mustered up the energy to clean out some of our clutter collections (top of the microwave and fridge). Of course, after all that work (even if it WAS slow work), I'm a little tired by now. As much as I enjoyed it, I can't help but hope that tomorrow is a little slower than Slow.
(Before I go to bed though, I may stop to gaze admiringly upon my handiwork on the freezer shelves. Thanks to Marcel, the freezer is newly clean, so all that pumpkin, soup and chicken stock looks all the better on clutter-free ice-free shelves.)
Friday, October 07, 2005
This is why I love Jann Arden...
Someone mentioned something about my weight a while ago...about image...the endless comments about image. Didn't I feel the pressure to be thin? I said that no, I didn't feel the pressure, because I am exceptional at what I do. I am leaving my music behind me eternally, not my tits or my ass or my head. When we are all gone in 5oty years, only the music will remain and a few pictures of another time. No one will care what I weighed. It's so ludicrous...what we buy into. I will not, I never have. I see who I am. It doesn't matter what anyone else sees. - Jann Arden
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Forget about my whining...
Instead of indulging me in my self-pity, you should all wander over to my sister-in-law's blog and read about how, 10 years ago, my niece joined our family. It's better than anything you'll read HERE right now, so go ahead, run away. (But thanks for stopping by :-)
Start 4 posts ago. And grab a kleenex.
Start 4 posts ago. And grab a kleenex.
DON'T CLOSE THE DOOR!
I know better than to divulge too much information about work on my blog, but let me just say IF I HAVE ONE MORE CLOSED DOOR MEETING, I WILL RUN SCREAMING FROM THE BUILDING!
More than one really tricky human resource issue has been bubbling lately, so this has been a challenging place to be this week. It's days like this that make me wonder about my sanity when I chose to become a manager. Today, I want to be unemployed, or perhaps a self-employed consultant. At least if I'm self-employed, I only have myself to yell at when the work's not getting done or I'm pissing off the clients!
I rarely work with my office door closed, but this week, almost everyone who enters closes the door on their way in (or I do the same when I enter my boss' office, or I have to close the door when I get or have to make an ugly phone call). Blech. I NEED AIR! I need an open door, with no secrets, no whispering, no confidential issues to deal with, no nasty e-mails or phone calls, no one blaming me or anyone else for anything. Just a little fresh air, friendly voices, and kindness.
There - I just had to vent a little. I knew you'd listen. Thanks.
More than one really tricky human resource issue has been bubbling lately, so this has been a challenging place to be this week. It's days like this that make me wonder about my sanity when I chose to become a manager. Today, I want to be unemployed, or perhaps a self-employed consultant. At least if I'm self-employed, I only have myself to yell at when the work's not getting done or I'm pissing off the clients!
I rarely work with my office door closed, but this week, almost everyone who enters closes the door on their way in (or I do the same when I enter my boss' office, or I have to close the door when I get or have to make an ugly phone call). Blech. I NEED AIR! I need an open door, with no secrets, no whispering, no confidential issues to deal with, no nasty e-mails or phone calls, no one blaming me or anyone else for anything. Just a little fresh air, friendly voices, and kindness.
There - I just had to vent a little. I knew you'd listen. Thanks.
Nope, I'm NOT gonna share!
Gotta wonder how something like this can possibly be healthy for all parties involved. But what do I know?
(Marcel, don't even THINK about it!)
(Marcel, don't even THINK about it!)
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Just let me say
Martyn Joseph is the most AMAZING musician to walk the face of God's green earth! (Or at least that's what I think right now - until the next concert I see. :-)
I love the buzz you get after a good concert, play, art show, poetry reading - almost any kind of artistic endeavour. It's a feeling of being inspired, uplifted, and yes, almost a little invincible. It's two feelings at once - a feeling that you could never be worthy of creating such perfection as you've just witnessed, while at the same time a feeling that you have no choice but to answer your own call to creativity after inspiration like that.
If you EVER get a chance to hear Martyn Joseph perform, do not pass go, do not collect $200, just go directly to the ticket seller and GET YOUR TICKETS! You will thank me for it.
I love the buzz you get after a good concert, play, art show, poetry reading - almost any kind of artistic endeavour. It's a feeling of being inspired, uplifted, and yes, almost a little invincible. It's two feelings at once - a feeling that you could never be worthy of creating such perfection as you've just witnessed, while at the same time a feeling that you have no choice but to answer your own call to creativity after inspiration like that.
If you EVER get a chance to hear Martyn Joseph perform, do not pass go, do not collect $200, just go directly to the ticket seller and GET YOUR TICKETS! You will thank me for it.
Monday, October 03, 2005
The good, the bad, and the ugly
These things I hate:
- when your staff member thinks that bad-mouthing you to anyone who will listen is an effective way of protecting her job
- when your daughter is reduced to tears while trying to do her homework because trying to remember French numbers makes her feel stupid, and tomorrow is Judgement Day when her teacher will test her and label her competent or incompetent
- when your other daughter comes home with reports of being bullied on the bus by mean-boy from across the street, and a bus driver who (apparently) turns a blind eye
- when your children fight ALL the way home, and you're stuck in bumper to bumper traffic so it takes twice as long to get home
- when you feel completely overwhelmed and perhaps even a little incompetent because your absence from the office for a week means that you are miles behind and your workload seems like an insurmountable mountain
- when it takes all evening for your kids to get through homework and piano practice and cleaning up after supper and packing their lunches, and you realize they have barely had a moment to JUST BE KIDS!
- when, after listening to demand after demand after demand, it occurs to you that your children see the world through self-centred lenses and the only communication out of their mouths seems to be some version of "Me, Me, Me"
- when you look at the diminishing pan of brownies and realize that, at the end of a long and stressful day, you've turned to food for comfort
These things I like:
- when your wonderful husband realizes you've had a stressful day and makes sure supper is waiting for you in the oven, even though he has an evening class and it's your night to cook supper
- when you emerge from a self-imposed timeout in your bedroom and find your daughters clearing the supper table even though they haven't been reminded, and you consider that possibly they DO have a shred of conscience after all
- when you realize that tomorrow night you get to go to a concert and that your ROCKIN' brother-in-law is willing to babysit
- when you watch your three-year-old daughter dance around naked waving a pom-pom just like a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and you realize that a good laugh cures a lot of ills
- when you sit down to relax at the end of a LONG day and realize you can do it guilt free because the dishes are done, the laundry is clean and put away, the floor is swept and vacuumed (at least upstairs), the housework is basically caught up, and even your sink is shiny and clean.
- when your staff member thinks that bad-mouthing you to anyone who will listen is an effective way of protecting her job
- when your daughter is reduced to tears while trying to do her homework because trying to remember French numbers makes her feel stupid, and tomorrow is Judgement Day when her teacher will test her and label her competent or incompetent
- when your other daughter comes home with reports of being bullied on the bus by mean-boy from across the street, and a bus driver who (apparently) turns a blind eye
- when your children fight ALL the way home, and you're stuck in bumper to bumper traffic so it takes twice as long to get home
- when you feel completely overwhelmed and perhaps even a little incompetent because your absence from the office for a week means that you are miles behind and your workload seems like an insurmountable mountain
- when it takes all evening for your kids to get through homework and piano practice and cleaning up after supper and packing their lunches, and you realize they have barely had a moment to JUST BE KIDS!
- when, after listening to demand after demand after demand, it occurs to you that your children see the world through self-centred lenses and the only communication out of their mouths seems to be some version of "Me, Me, Me"
- when you look at the diminishing pan of brownies and realize that, at the end of a long and stressful day, you've turned to food for comfort
These things I like:
- when your wonderful husband realizes you've had a stressful day and makes sure supper is waiting for you in the oven, even though he has an evening class and it's your night to cook supper
- when you emerge from a self-imposed timeout in your bedroom and find your daughters clearing the supper table even though they haven't been reminded, and you consider that possibly they DO have a shred of conscience after all
- when you realize that tomorrow night you get to go to a concert and that your ROCKIN' brother-in-law is willing to babysit
- when you watch your three-year-old daughter dance around naked waving a pom-pom just like a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader and you realize that a good laugh cures a lot of ills
- when you sit down to relax at the end of a LONG day and realize you can do it guilt free because the dishes are done, the laundry is clean and put away, the floor is swept and vacuumed (at least upstairs), the housework is basically caught up, and even your sink is shiny and clean.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
What's with all the pumpkins?
I thought I'd take a moment to answer Dale's question. About the pumpkins.Why did I spend my Saturday morning picking pumpkins with about 40 other people? Well, the short answer is that they planted all those pumpkins to sell to raise money for Canadian Foodgrains Bank, a food aid and international development organization that I work for. The purpose of my trip was to visit churches and community groups who are supporting us through various efforts. The pumpkin project was one of those efforts.
The Foodgrains Bank is a christian-based organization that was originally started by a group of farmers that wanted to find some way of sending their surplus grain to hungry people overseas. Since then, it's grown, and we now receive about $7 million in donations from Canadians, as well as $16 million from the federal government. The unique thing that I love about this organization is that there are 13 different church organizations that are part of it - everything from Baptists to Presbyterians to Seventh Day Adventists (and including your United Church, Dale). All these churches that preach different doctrine from the pulpit, work together to help hungry people. On Sunday, while I was in Nova Scotia, I visited 3 different churches, belonging to different denominations but still serving the common purpose.
The pumpkin project is one of our community growing projects. Rural communities get together, set aside a portion of land, and grow a crop which they donate directly or sell and donate the proceeds. I love the pumpkin project, because it includes 6 or 7 local churches in the Annapolis Valley, and they get a wide range of people working together as a community to pick and sell a field full of pumpkins. It gives you warm fuzzies to see something like that.
So now you know why all those pumpkins. And since I took all this time to put in a good plug for the Foodgrains Bank, next time you want to support a great organization, check us out! (That's also why I was in Africa - to read more about it, feel free to peruse my February posts.)
Friday, September 30, 2005
Some of the highlights...
The trip was GREAT! Better than I could have expected! I didn't know how it would go - I was travelling with the staff member that I've had the least contact with and didn't know if we'd gel or not, but we did. It was worth the investment - to build a relationship that needed a little work.
Here are a few of the highlights:
1. A visit to Peggy's Cove (the first 2 pictures below). It's a rugged rocky area with crashing waves beating against the shore. It was a grey day, but still pleasantly warm. The woman on the plane said she HATED Peggy's Cove, but I think she was deluded. I don't know what's to hate. 'Course she was a transplant from Barbados, so she compared every coastline to her home - not a fair comparison. We had "Finnie Haddie" (I think that's what it's called) which is a local dish of smoked haddock, at the restaurant overlooking the shore and the lighthouse.
2. Reconnecting with my friend Tim. He was one of my travelling companions in Africa. It was fun to meet his wife and three kids. His oldest son Noah was quite determined he would help me figure out when to pay the waittress at the restaurant, his second son David was more intent on figuring out my digital camera, and his daughter Laura was fascinated with my beaded African bracelet.
3. Riding the ferry to Prince Edward Island. (Sixth picture below) I love ferries. I love looking out over the ocean looking for land. I love spotting lighthouses. I love the faraway lights of other ships. I love the dipping, gliding seagulls diving for fish. I love the swirling water at the back by the propellor. I love the sea breeze on my face. The only part I'm not too fond of is the foghorn - when I'm out on deck and it blows right in my ear (remember, D & C?).
4. Picking pumpkins with about 40 people from the local community - people ranging in age from 3 to 80. (Fourth and seventh pictures below.) Wonderful people, who give up a Saturday morning to wonder around a field collecting pumpkins because they believe their efforts will help feed a hungry family somewhere overseas. And the sight of plump orange pumpkins, with a background of the Annapolis valley just seems like a scene begging to be painted.
5. A visit to the parents of a good friend of mine - in a beautiful home on Prince Edward Island. Tea and cookies and pleasant conversation.
6. Two words... LOBSTER SUPPER! (Fifth picture below) There's a trend on the island that I believe was started by community centres in small towns. They put on a lobster supper that's similar to a fall supper in churches across the prairies. It's in a big room like a community centre, with very little decor (other than red checkered tablecloths), but AWESOME food! You get a full meal deal (and I do mean FULL!) - mussels, seafood chowder, salads, beverages, lobster and dessert. YUMMY!!!
7. I got to stay in a hotel. (Third picture below.) I thought I'd be staying at the home of my colleague, but his son and daughter-in-law had just moved into their spare room, so they didn't have room for me. Yay! I got privacy and lots of time to myself, and I didn't have to think about being social and making polite conversation all the time. The hotel (actually it was a motel) was rather primitive, with seventies decor and no phones in the rooms (or even a pay phone anywhere that I could find), but nonetheless quite lovely, relaxing, and picturesque. It was just outside Truro, so there weren't any modern conveniences close by, but it was on the edge of a valley, with a river flowing out to sea right in front of it, so the surroundings made up for the lack of conveniences. And it had a GREAT restaurant, with some of the best service I've ever had in a restaurant.
8. A very quick visit to Green Gables (yes, you're right AC, it's the ninth picture). We had a bit of time to kill before our lobster supper, so we stopped. It was closing in 15 minutes, so it wasn't really worth paying the entrance fee, but then, almost by accident, I snuck in the exit to snap a few pictures, and soon found myself wandering through the house. It was a bit of a drizzly day, so the tourists had all disappeared, and I was all alone wandering around the house and yard. It was a brief, but rather enchanted moment. Not too many people get to see that overly commercialized tourist attraction alone, so I count myself blessed.
9. Speaking in three different churches in one day - 2 in the morning and one in the evening. They were 2 very different denominations (Presbyterian and Pentecostal), so it was kinda fun to see the different traditions and realize what things people incorporate into their faith traditions and accept as "gospel truth". It was also nice to realize just how GOOD our church is. Not that any of these was bad, just that they were way more stuck in tradition, and less grounded in community than ours is.
10. A rather rainy day that I got to lounge around and hang out by myself (mostly - I had to go to a meeting in the evening). I get so few of those opportunities these days. I was a little disppointed that it rained and I couldn't wander far, but it was delightful nonetheless. When I wandered over to the drink machine to get a drink, covered up in my rain poncho, a friendly staff person said "miserable day, eh?" and almost by instinct I agreed. But then I realized that no, in truth, it was FAR from a miserable day. I got to curl up with a good book in a quiet hotel room in Nova Scotia - what's not to like? When the rain let up, I wandered into town to visit the infamous Frenchies (a second hand store that's known for having lots of good quality used clothes) and found a few bargains. I had to buy the rain poncho there, though, because when I was done shopping, the rain had started again.
11. Reading a great book recommended by Linda. It's called "In Praise of Slow" and I'd highly recommend it to anyone who wants to enrich their life (and who doesn't?). I may blog about it more another day. I bought it at the airport when I was leaving and finished on the flight home from Toronto yesterday.
12. A great meeting in Toronto. I was hosting and chairing the meeting with about 15 people, many of whom I'd never met, so I was a little nervous and felt frightfully ill-prepared, but it went quite smoothly and exceeded my expectations.
And now I'm happy to be home. I had a really lovely day off today - a visit to Sugar Mountain with the girls, lunch at Bread and Circuses, a bike ride, a visit to the library, date night with supper at Homers with my wonderful husband, and then a public lecture at the university with an inspirational address from Dr. Lloyd Axworthy.
A good week, all in all.
Here are a few of the highlights:
1. A visit to Peggy's Cove (the first 2 pictures below). It's a rugged rocky area with crashing waves beating against the shore. It was a grey day, but still pleasantly warm. The woman on the plane said she HATED Peggy's Cove, but I think she was deluded. I don't know what's to hate. 'Course she was a transplant from Barbados, so she compared every coastline to her home - not a fair comparison. We had "Finnie Haddie" (I think that's what it's called) which is a local dish of smoked haddock, at the restaurant overlooking the shore and the lighthouse.
2. Reconnecting with my friend Tim. He was one of my travelling companions in Africa. It was fun to meet his wife and three kids. His oldest son Noah was quite determined he would help me figure out when to pay the waittress at the restaurant, his second son David was more intent on figuring out my digital camera, and his daughter Laura was fascinated with my beaded African bracelet.
3. Riding the ferry to Prince Edward Island. (Sixth picture below) I love ferries. I love looking out over the ocean looking for land. I love spotting lighthouses. I love the faraway lights of other ships. I love the dipping, gliding seagulls diving for fish. I love the swirling water at the back by the propellor. I love the sea breeze on my face. The only part I'm not too fond of is the foghorn - when I'm out on deck and it blows right in my ear (remember, D & C?).
4. Picking pumpkins with about 40 people from the local community - people ranging in age from 3 to 80. (Fourth and seventh pictures below.) Wonderful people, who give up a Saturday morning to wonder around a field collecting pumpkins because they believe their efforts will help feed a hungry family somewhere overseas. And the sight of plump orange pumpkins, with a background of the Annapolis valley just seems like a scene begging to be painted.
5. A visit to the parents of a good friend of mine - in a beautiful home on Prince Edward Island. Tea and cookies and pleasant conversation.
6. Two words... LOBSTER SUPPER! (Fifth picture below) There's a trend on the island that I believe was started by community centres in small towns. They put on a lobster supper that's similar to a fall supper in churches across the prairies. It's in a big room like a community centre, with very little decor (other than red checkered tablecloths), but AWESOME food! You get a full meal deal (and I do mean FULL!) - mussels, seafood chowder, salads, beverages, lobster and dessert. YUMMY!!!
7. I got to stay in a hotel. (Third picture below.) I thought I'd be staying at the home of my colleague, but his son and daughter-in-law had just moved into their spare room, so they didn't have room for me. Yay! I got privacy and lots of time to myself, and I didn't have to think about being social and making polite conversation all the time. The hotel (actually it was a motel) was rather primitive, with seventies decor and no phones in the rooms (or even a pay phone anywhere that I could find), but nonetheless quite lovely, relaxing, and picturesque. It was just outside Truro, so there weren't any modern conveniences close by, but it was on the edge of a valley, with a river flowing out to sea right in front of it, so the surroundings made up for the lack of conveniences. And it had a GREAT restaurant, with some of the best service I've ever had in a restaurant.
8. A very quick visit to Green Gables (yes, you're right AC, it's the ninth picture). We had a bit of time to kill before our lobster supper, so we stopped. It was closing in 15 minutes, so it wasn't really worth paying the entrance fee, but then, almost by accident, I snuck in the exit to snap a few pictures, and soon found myself wandering through the house. It was a bit of a drizzly day, so the tourists had all disappeared, and I was all alone wandering around the house and yard. It was a brief, but rather enchanted moment. Not too many people get to see that overly commercialized tourist attraction alone, so I count myself blessed.
9. Speaking in three different churches in one day - 2 in the morning and one in the evening. They were 2 very different denominations (Presbyterian and Pentecostal), so it was kinda fun to see the different traditions and realize what things people incorporate into their faith traditions and accept as "gospel truth". It was also nice to realize just how GOOD our church is. Not that any of these was bad, just that they were way more stuck in tradition, and less grounded in community than ours is.
10. A rather rainy day that I got to lounge around and hang out by myself (mostly - I had to go to a meeting in the evening). I get so few of those opportunities these days. I was a little disppointed that it rained and I couldn't wander far, but it was delightful nonetheless. When I wandered over to the drink machine to get a drink, covered up in my rain poncho, a friendly staff person said "miserable day, eh?" and almost by instinct I agreed. But then I realized that no, in truth, it was FAR from a miserable day. I got to curl up with a good book in a quiet hotel room in Nova Scotia - what's not to like? When the rain let up, I wandered into town to visit the infamous Frenchies (a second hand store that's known for having lots of good quality used clothes) and found a few bargains. I had to buy the rain poncho there, though, because when I was done shopping, the rain had started again.
11. Reading a great book recommended by Linda. It's called "In Praise of Slow" and I'd highly recommend it to anyone who wants to enrich their life (and who doesn't?). I may blog about it more another day. I bought it at the airport when I was leaving and finished on the flight home from Toronto yesterday.
12. A great meeting in Toronto. I was hosting and chairing the meeting with about 15 people, many of whom I'd never met, so I was a little nervous and felt frightfully ill-prepared, but it went quite smoothly and exceeded my expectations.
And now I'm happy to be home. I had a really lovely day off today - a visit to Sugar Mountain with the girls, lunch at Bread and Circuses, a bike ride, a visit to the library, date night with supper at Homers with my wonderful husband, and then a public lecture at the university with an inspirational address from Dr. Lloyd Axworthy.
A good week, all in all.
I'm back!
Yes, I'm home! I don't have much time to blog - the girls and I are spending the day together and they don't want me to be too distracted on the computer, but in the meantime, enjoy some pics (sorry - no time for commentary!) 
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Gotta go now
I'll be up late tonight packing my bags - getting ready to catch a flight tomorrow morning. Gotta get the laundry all clean so that everyone has clothes to wear while I'm gone. Marcel is pretty capable of coping with everything in my absence, but the laundry is still usually my job.
I'm off to the East Coast for a few days - Halifax, Truro, Annapolis Valley, PEI, Peggy's Cove. These are all places I've dreamed of visiting some day and now I get to. The beauty of it is I don't have to spend a penny of my own money doing it. :-) I'm going for business reasons - travelling with my Atlantic-based staff member - visiting supporters and volunteers and getting to know the region a bit. On Saturday, I'll be picking pumpkins. A community group in Annapolis Valley grows a field of pumpkins which they sell and donate the proceeds to our organization (which, for those who don't know, delivers food aid to developing countries).
I consider myself pretty lucky. Not only do I have a great job, but I get to travel to interesting places and meet interesting people. One of the greatest feelings I know is the feeling I get when I hop on a plane bound for a place I've never been before.
And my luck doesn't end there. I have an amazingly supportive husband who forgives me for abandoning him now and then when I have to travel. (Thanks Marcel.) He's gotten pretty used to being the primary caregiver for the girls. Nowadays, ever since I took off for three weeks in Africa, he barely blinks when I leave for ONLY a week.
The girls have adjusted to Mommy being gone too. They don't love it, but they cope. Tonight Maddie tried to find every reason she could think of to convince me I REALLY should bring her along. "They probably have little kids in Halifax, so I should go along." "I like lobster, so I should go with you." (I don't think she's ever EATEN lobster, but she's seen them in their tank at the supermarket and she calls them her friends.) "Do they have sheep? I'd like to see sheep, so maybe I should go too."
I love to go, but in the end, there's always a bit of a churning in the pit of my stomach when I leave my family behind - a mixture of guilt, worry, and a longing to bring them with me. It doesn't last, though, and I don't dwell on it when I'm gone. Thankfully, I do it just enough to keep me happy and not so much that my family resents me.
So, for now, good bye.
I'm off to the East Coast for a few days - Halifax, Truro, Annapolis Valley, PEI, Peggy's Cove. These are all places I've dreamed of visiting some day and now I get to. The beauty of it is I don't have to spend a penny of my own money doing it. :-) I'm going for business reasons - travelling with my Atlantic-based staff member - visiting supporters and volunteers and getting to know the region a bit. On Saturday, I'll be picking pumpkins. A community group in Annapolis Valley grows a field of pumpkins which they sell and donate the proceeds to our organization (which, for those who don't know, delivers food aid to developing countries).
I consider myself pretty lucky. Not only do I have a great job, but I get to travel to interesting places and meet interesting people. One of the greatest feelings I know is the feeling I get when I hop on a plane bound for a place I've never been before.
And my luck doesn't end there. I have an amazingly supportive husband who forgives me for abandoning him now and then when I have to travel. (Thanks Marcel.) He's gotten pretty used to being the primary caregiver for the girls. Nowadays, ever since I took off for three weeks in Africa, he barely blinks when I leave for ONLY a week.
The girls have adjusted to Mommy being gone too. They don't love it, but they cope. Tonight Maddie tried to find every reason she could think of to convince me I REALLY should bring her along. "They probably have little kids in Halifax, so I should go along." "I like lobster, so I should go with you." (I don't think she's ever EATEN lobster, but she's seen them in their tank at the supermarket and she calls them her friends.) "Do they have sheep? I'd like to see sheep, so maybe I should go too."
I love to go, but in the end, there's always a bit of a churning in the pit of my stomach when I leave my family behind - a mixture of guilt, worry, and a longing to bring them with me. It doesn't last, though, and I don't dwell on it when I'm gone. Thankfully, I do it just enough to keep me happy and not so much that my family resents me.
So, for now, good bye.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Family pic
Time for an updated family photo, so my sister and I exchanged photo shoots. (Go see the one on her blog too :-)
Good looking bunch, eh? (Just don't look too closely at all the bird poop in the duck pond behind us.)
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
She didn't MEAN to be racist!
Maddie was playing in the front yard when I heard her shout, excitedly, "Mom LOOK! There's Africa people!" And then, because she thought I couldn't hear her from where I stood inside the kitchen, she shouted a little louder, "MOM, LOOK! THERE'S AFRICA PEOPLE!"
I'm sure the African family crossing the street at the time thought my little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl was expressing deep-rooted, family-inherited racism, but really she wasn't. She was just SO excited to see some people who looked like, and dressed like the people in the pictures I brought home from Africa. Remember, this is the little girl who believes that EVERYONE should and will be her friend, and the thought of a whole CONTINENT full of people she hasn't met yet just fills her with glee. She especially wants to learn to dance like the Africans on the video I brought home.
Some day, I want to take my little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl to Africa so she can make a few more friends. In the meantime, we'll keep our eyes open for the African family who live in the co-op across the street and maybe take the time to say hello. And perhaps offer an explanation/apology. :-)
I'm sure the African family crossing the street at the time thought my little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl was expressing deep-rooted, family-inherited racism, but really she wasn't. She was just SO excited to see some people who looked like, and dressed like the people in the pictures I brought home from Africa. Remember, this is the little girl who believes that EVERYONE should and will be her friend, and the thought of a whole CONTINENT full of people she hasn't met yet just fills her with glee. She especially wants to learn to dance like the Africans on the video I brought home.
Some day, I want to take my little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl to Africa so she can make a few more friends. In the meantime, we'll keep our eyes open for the African family who live in the co-op across the street and maybe take the time to say hello. And perhaps offer an explanation/apology. :-)
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Ten years
Tonight we celebrated Marcel's sister's tenth anniversary. At his parents' house at supper, we talked about the wedding ten years ago. The wedding reception took place in a tent in the front yard. It was a lovely day. Everyone was happy. Well, almost everyone.
My memory of that day brings knots to my stomach and a lump to my throat. My memory of that day is...darkness.
That was in the middle of Marcel's deep dark depression. I remember him sitting on a chair at the wedding, slumped over, no light in his eyes, and no joy in his face. It was scary as hell seeing him that way. He's one of the funniest people I know, and without his sense of humour, he was just a shell of himself. He was in a deep dark pit he couldn't pull himself out of, and there was so little I could do to help.
We tried to get help, but weren't very successful. So few people around us at the time had any experience dealing with depression, so we didn't really know where to turn. In the middle of it all, I did so many things wrong. I was just trying to cope. We all were. I got mad, I cried, I told him to snap out of it, I took him to doctors, I tried to appeal to his guilt - I'm sure I tried every trick in the book. If you asked me now how to help someone going through depression, I wouldn't be able to tell you, because I know I didn't do it right.
After weeks of darkness, a few weeks after the wedding, he gave up hope. He disappeared, and I was sure I'd lost him. He drove to a quiet place and, with a knife he'd taken from our kitchen, tried to end it all.
Thank God, his attempts at suicide failed. When he woke up and found himself still alive, he decided God must have wanted him to stay alive, so he got himself to a hospital. All the while, not knowing where he was for over 12 hours, I waited, I cried, I screamed, I drove around like a mad-woman looking for him, and I longed for just one more chance to let him know I loved him.
Through hours of surgery, we waited - his family and some of mine. In the morning, the doctors told us he would live. I was relieved, but I just didn't know what that would mean. Even if he was still alive, what if he decided to try again? What if he wasn't convinced life was worth it? What if we'd have to face this all over again a few months down the line?
Slowly, though, he began to recover. He got help and learned more about this disease of his. He confronted some of the skeletons in his closet, and figured out how to face them without fear. His doctor prescribed medication, and soon the light began to sparkle in his eyes again.
Four months later, Nikki was born, and fatherhood transformed him. He set about to be the most amazing dad he could be.
It's hard to believe it's been ten years already. At the time, I really didn't know how our marriage would survive such a bumpy road. But we stuck it out, clung to each other, and found our way out of the darkness together. Now we're stronger for it.
Now, ten years later, I have so much admiration for Marcel. He has shown so much bravery in turning his life around. He has faced so many fears and come out the victor. One of the greatest challenges he faced was quitting his job after being in the workforce for 22 years, and heading off to university for the first time in his life. Not everyone will take such a risk late in their thirties. He has learned to cope with anxiety and depression and he has found ways of helping others cope.
He's my hero. I can't imagine life without him. I can't imagine never laughing with him again. I can't imagine not watching our children grow up together. I can't imagine sleeping without the warmth of his body next to mine. I can't imagine not hearing him call me "Buddy". I can't imagine how I could have gone on living if he hadn't survived.
My memory of that day brings knots to my stomach and a lump to my throat. My memory of that day is...darkness.
That was in the middle of Marcel's deep dark depression. I remember him sitting on a chair at the wedding, slumped over, no light in his eyes, and no joy in his face. It was scary as hell seeing him that way. He's one of the funniest people I know, and without his sense of humour, he was just a shell of himself. He was in a deep dark pit he couldn't pull himself out of, and there was so little I could do to help.
We tried to get help, but weren't very successful. So few people around us at the time had any experience dealing with depression, so we didn't really know where to turn. In the middle of it all, I did so many things wrong. I was just trying to cope. We all were. I got mad, I cried, I told him to snap out of it, I took him to doctors, I tried to appeal to his guilt - I'm sure I tried every trick in the book. If you asked me now how to help someone going through depression, I wouldn't be able to tell you, because I know I didn't do it right.
After weeks of darkness, a few weeks after the wedding, he gave up hope. He disappeared, and I was sure I'd lost him. He drove to a quiet place and, with a knife he'd taken from our kitchen, tried to end it all.
Thank God, his attempts at suicide failed. When he woke up and found himself still alive, he decided God must have wanted him to stay alive, so he got himself to a hospital. All the while, not knowing where he was for over 12 hours, I waited, I cried, I screamed, I drove around like a mad-woman looking for him, and I longed for just one more chance to let him know I loved him.
Through hours of surgery, we waited - his family and some of mine. In the morning, the doctors told us he would live. I was relieved, but I just didn't know what that would mean. Even if he was still alive, what if he decided to try again? What if he wasn't convinced life was worth it? What if we'd have to face this all over again a few months down the line?
Slowly, though, he began to recover. He got help and learned more about this disease of his. He confronted some of the skeletons in his closet, and figured out how to face them without fear. His doctor prescribed medication, and soon the light began to sparkle in his eyes again.
Four months later, Nikki was born, and fatherhood transformed him. He set about to be the most amazing dad he could be.
It's hard to believe it's been ten years already. At the time, I really didn't know how our marriage would survive such a bumpy road. But we stuck it out, clung to each other, and found our way out of the darkness together. Now we're stronger for it.
Now, ten years later, I have so much admiration for Marcel. He has shown so much bravery in turning his life around. He has faced so many fears and come out the victor. One of the greatest challenges he faced was quitting his job after being in the workforce for 22 years, and heading off to university for the first time in his life. Not everyone will take such a risk late in their thirties. He has learned to cope with anxiety and depression and he has found ways of helping others cope.
He's my hero. I can't imagine life without him. I can't imagine never laughing with him again. I can't imagine not watching our children grow up together. I can't imagine sleeping without the warmth of his body next to mine. I can't imagine not hearing him call me "Buddy". I can't imagine how I could have gone on living if he hadn't survived.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Clawing my way out from under
Sometimes I have nightmares of being buried alive. It's the scariest way I can imagine dying. I remember, as a child on the farm, hearing of people getting buried in granaries - they died trying to claw their way to the top as the ground kept giving way beneath them and the grain kept pouring down on top of them.
That's how housework feels sometimes - like you're getting buried while trying to claw your way to the top. You just get the laundry done, put the last pair of socks in the drawer, sigh with relief, and then turn to see that the hampers are mysteriously full again. Did they wear THREE outfits today while I slaved over their laundry? Dishes - the same way. You wash the last glass, drain the sink, and someone walks into the kitchen with a dirty cup.
Today was one of those days. I worked and worked, and in the end it seems I have nothing to show for it. At 10:00 this morning, the living room was clean. Now there are blocks strewn all over the floor, the couch cushions are pulled off the cushions, Tickle-me Elmo lies there waiting to be tickled, and the books, newspapers - well, you get the picture.
Same with laundry. I got it ALL put away this week - a considerable feat for me. The very next day, the girls started complaining about running out of clean underwear. I wanted to cry. That's one of those things that nobody prepared me for - how much laundry takes over your life when there are five people in the house.
Marcel spent a good part of the day cleaning out the garage - trying to get ready for winter when the car takes back its rightful place in the garage, and the bikes are relegated to their hooks on the ceiling. Same thing there - everything is in order, but by tomorrow, there will be things strewn about again.
We have gotten rid of trailers full of clutter in this house in the last few weeks. We have cleaned and purged and cleaned and purged some more. Clothes, toys, shoes - even some kitchen items. Probably at least 25 bags or boxes of stuff have been carried away. Every closet and every dresser in every bedroom has been purged of stuff that never gets worn or doesn't fit anymore. And yet, you'd never know it. While we made trips to Goodwill, it seems the stuff left behind threw a party and invited more clutter to fill the empty spaces we'd created. It's multiplying!
Today I even went as far as hauling 2 boxes of books to a charity drop box. Books! They don't leave this house easily, believe me. But sadly, though it took me considerable hemming and hawing to commit to giving away those books, all that work resulted in clearing only enough space to fit all the books that didn't have room in the bookshelves before. In other words, as soon as we buy another book, it will have to sit on top of the bookshelf and cause more clutter again until we purge more to make room for it. Or buy more bookshelves. Sheesh!
Oh, I know, it's probably not as bad as it seems. Yes, I do realize that things are getting better, and at least it's a little easier to put away the laundry now that the dresser drawers are a little more empty. But somehow, it still finds a way of spilling out and cluttering up our spaces.
Some day, I just want to clean up this house, and then look around 24 hours later and notice that it is STILL CLEAN!
Perhaps I shouldn't wish for that too soon, though, because that will mean that my kids have grown up and moved away to their own homes. I guess I'll just have to grit my teeth, forgive them their messes, and appreciate the richness they bring to my life. If only their richness didn't come with so much STUFF!
That's how housework feels sometimes - like you're getting buried while trying to claw your way to the top. You just get the laundry done, put the last pair of socks in the drawer, sigh with relief, and then turn to see that the hampers are mysteriously full again. Did they wear THREE outfits today while I slaved over their laundry? Dishes - the same way. You wash the last glass, drain the sink, and someone walks into the kitchen with a dirty cup.
Today was one of those days. I worked and worked, and in the end it seems I have nothing to show for it. At 10:00 this morning, the living room was clean. Now there are blocks strewn all over the floor, the couch cushions are pulled off the cushions, Tickle-me Elmo lies there waiting to be tickled, and the books, newspapers - well, you get the picture.
Same with laundry. I got it ALL put away this week - a considerable feat for me. The very next day, the girls started complaining about running out of clean underwear. I wanted to cry. That's one of those things that nobody prepared me for - how much laundry takes over your life when there are five people in the house.
Marcel spent a good part of the day cleaning out the garage - trying to get ready for winter when the car takes back its rightful place in the garage, and the bikes are relegated to their hooks on the ceiling. Same thing there - everything is in order, but by tomorrow, there will be things strewn about again.
We have gotten rid of trailers full of clutter in this house in the last few weeks. We have cleaned and purged and cleaned and purged some more. Clothes, toys, shoes - even some kitchen items. Probably at least 25 bags or boxes of stuff have been carried away. Every closet and every dresser in every bedroom has been purged of stuff that never gets worn or doesn't fit anymore. And yet, you'd never know it. While we made trips to Goodwill, it seems the stuff left behind threw a party and invited more clutter to fill the empty spaces we'd created. It's multiplying!
Today I even went as far as hauling 2 boxes of books to a charity drop box. Books! They don't leave this house easily, believe me. But sadly, though it took me considerable hemming and hawing to commit to giving away those books, all that work resulted in clearing only enough space to fit all the books that didn't have room in the bookshelves before. In other words, as soon as we buy another book, it will have to sit on top of the bookshelf and cause more clutter again until we purge more to make room for it. Or buy more bookshelves. Sheesh!
Oh, I know, it's probably not as bad as it seems. Yes, I do realize that things are getting better, and at least it's a little easier to put away the laundry now that the dresser drawers are a little more empty. But somehow, it still finds a way of spilling out and cluttering up our spaces.
Some day, I just want to clean up this house, and then look around 24 hours later and notice that it is STILL CLEAN!
Perhaps I shouldn't wish for that too soon, though, because that will mean that my kids have grown up and moved away to their own homes. I guess I'll just have to grit my teeth, forgive them their messes, and appreciate the richness they bring to my life. If only their richness didn't come with so much STUFF!
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Don't ya sometimes wish life were a film strip...
...and you could just rewind it by 5 minutes and re-create the scene with a more desirable outcome?
I had one of those moments last night, and another one tonight.
Last night it was while I was preparing supper. Maddie was "helping" me, and she had a little pin from Banff attached to her shirt. Something someone had found and pinned on her. In the same split second I heard something fall on the floor, I glanced over at her and realized the pin was no longer there. In the next split second, I felt seering pain shoot up my leg, and I knew where the pin had landed - the exact same place I decided to put my bare foot. Youch! I screamed, and Maddie went shrieking downstairs - "Mommy's bleeding! Mommy's bleeding!" Her sisters ran upstairs to see the freak show, and I sat on the floor clutching my foot.
It was at that moment I realized the advantage of being a kid. If I HAD been a kid, I could have cried it off, someone would have comforted me and put a bandaid on it, and I could have rested on the couch. But because I happen to be the PARENT instead of the kid, I had to wince through the pain, and go back to preparing supper. Kids have to eat, after all. I suppose I should be happy that at least Dr. Maddie went rushing off to get me a bandaid :-) But I had to put away the bandaid box after she lost interest in playing paramedic.
Tonight's filmstrip moment also took place in the kitchen, but didn't involve pain. Or at least not "literal" pain. Tonight, while the kids were getting ready for bed, I opened the fridge to put something away. I glanced down at the bottom shelf of the fridge and realized the chocolate milk jug was missing its lid. When I grabbed the milk jug to replace the lid, I heard the sound of pouring liquid. Turns out the lemonade jug, which was ALSO missing its lid, had been leaning on the milk jug. Oops. BIG oops. Can you imagine my joy at the prospect of cleaning a pitcher full of lemonade out of my fridge?
On the up-side (if there really IS an up-side) my fridge is now clean. Yes, it needed cleaning anyway, but I really didn't plan on doing it TONIGHT!
So now I'm sitting here with my foot propped up on the desk - not only is it still sore from last night's episode, but now it's also WET from tonight's episode. Poor abused foot.
I had one of those moments last night, and another one tonight.
Last night it was while I was preparing supper. Maddie was "helping" me, and she had a little pin from Banff attached to her shirt. Something someone had found and pinned on her. In the same split second I heard something fall on the floor, I glanced over at her and realized the pin was no longer there. In the next split second, I felt seering pain shoot up my leg, and I knew where the pin had landed - the exact same place I decided to put my bare foot. Youch! I screamed, and Maddie went shrieking downstairs - "Mommy's bleeding! Mommy's bleeding!" Her sisters ran upstairs to see the freak show, and I sat on the floor clutching my foot.
It was at that moment I realized the advantage of being a kid. If I HAD been a kid, I could have cried it off, someone would have comforted me and put a bandaid on it, and I could have rested on the couch. But because I happen to be the PARENT instead of the kid, I had to wince through the pain, and go back to preparing supper. Kids have to eat, after all. I suppose I should be happy that at least Dr. Maddie went rushing off to get me a bandaid :-) But I had to put away the bandaid box after she lost interest in playing paramedic.
Tonight's filmstrip moment also took place in the kitchen, but didn't involve pain. Or at least not "literal" pain. Tonight, while the kids were getting ready for bed, I opened the fridge to put something away. I glanced down at the bottom shelf of the fridge and realized the chocolate milk jug was missing its lid. When I grabbed the milk jug to replace the lid, I heard the sound of pouring liquid. Turns out the lemonade jug, which was ALSO missing its lid, had been leaning on the milk jug. Oops. BIG oops. Can you imagine my joy at the prospect of cleaning a pitcher full of lemonade out of my fridge?
On the up-side (if there really IS an up-side) my fridge is now clean. Yes, it needed cleaning anyway, but I really didn't plan on doing it TONIGHT!
So now I'm sitting here with my foot propped up on the desk - not only is it still sore from last night's episode, but now it's also WET from tonight's episode. Poor abused foot.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Conversation with Maddie in the bathtub
Maddie: Mom, look at your boobies. (Touches my breasts.)
Me: Maddie, please don't play with my boobies.
Maddie: I ALWAYS play with MY boobies Mom. But look Mom - mine don't fall off. (Bends over at the waste and tries to get her boobs to swing.) Mine don't fall off like yours do.
Okay, so perhaps God didn't bless me with the perkiest boobs in the planet, but they don't exactly FALL OFF when I bend at the waste!
Me: Maddie, please don't play with my boobies.
Maddie: I ALWAYS play with MY boobies Mom. But look Mom - mine don't fall off. (Bends over at the waste and tries to get her boobs to swing.) Mine don't fall off like yours do.
Okay, so perhaps God didn't bless me with the perkiest boobs in the planet, but they don't exactly FALL OFF when I bend at the waste!
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