See Ya!

Tomorrow, around 2:30 p.m., I leave Winnipeg for my trip to Southern Ontario. My folks are celebrating their 50th Wedding Anniversary and *everyone* is going to be there. It won't be a terribly relaxing trip but I am looking forward to it nevertheless. There'll be lots of laughing and catching up with old friends and relatives.

I don't expect that I'll be doing much blogging while I'm there-mom tends to hover over me when I'm at the computer and that makes me feel uncomfortable. I will likely have lots to blog about when I get back though so goodbye blogger friends. I'll be posting in about 2 weeks.

The Prairies

Wes had to visit a job site in Brandon on Sunday and I came along for the ride. Although I am an urban girl, there's something that happens to me once I get out of the city and begin ridin' down the highway. I somehow feel freed of some of the responsibilities, anxieties and burdens that come with my life in Winnipeg. Don't get me wrong. I have a great life here and I don't want to sound like I'm complaining. But hitting the highway and just going is a great feeling.

I was reminded of when I first moved to Winnipeg almost 26 years ago. I had moved from S. Ontario-the Niagara Peninsula with its lush vegetation, mountain (it is actaully the Niagara escarpment-we just called it a mountain), orchards, vineyards and hilly and winding roads. The prairies seemed so flat and uninteresting to me. When autumn came, people commented on the beautiful fall colours. Everything looked yellow to me.

Today, I am grateful to say that I love the prairies. Driving to Brandon we saw the bright yellow canola ripening in the fields; the wheat which still looked green but which will soon be maturing to a beautiful warm golden colour; flax, still green but one day blue; the straight rows of potatoes near Carberry.

And the sky. There is nothing like a prairie sky. On Sunday, clouds mostly covered the sky-pure white cumulus; dark, heavy rain clouds-purple, grey, black; bright, clear blue sky and various wispy clouds. It was awesome. The prairie sky is huge. There is nothing to obstruct your view (except for grain silos, grain elevators, barns and farm houses) so that it is visible until it meets the land on the horizon. Driving home we were witness to another gorgeous prairie sunset and if you looked a little to the south, you could see the moon rising as the sun was setting.

I have come to appreciate and love the prairies. They have a beauty all their own. When I go to visit my folks in Beamsville, I enjoy the very different beauty of the Niagara Penninsula but I am always happy to return to my beloved prairies. There's something about the space and the vastness of the prairies that touches my spirit and "grounds" me. I look at this beauty and I see God. In my mind, this kind of beauty could not have occurred without a Creator orchestrating it all.

"So God made the expanse and separated the water under the expanse from the water above it. And it was so. God called the expanse "sky". And there was evening, and there was morning-the second day.

And God saw all that he had made and it was very good."

Genesis 1:7,8,31

It's A Miracle!

We have an hp 2210 all-in-one printer which we have owned for about 2 years. When it works, it works beautifully. I can fax, scan, print-even print pretty good looking pictures. The problem with this particuar printer is that IT HASN'T WORKED PROPERLY SINCE WE BOUGHT IT! Sorry for yelling but I can't help it. Every now and then, FOR NO REASON, the printer stops working and makes this annoying clicking sound. The only way to fix it is if I turn it off and on at least 50 TIMES. If I'm lucky, it will start working again and I will once again, enjoy everything this amazing machine has to offer. (Actually, it is usually Wes who does the off/on thing most of the time because he is far more patient than I am. I'm not too proud to give credit where credit is due.)

About 2 weeks ago, I did the off/on thing at least ONE HUNDRED TIMES and it still didn't work so we hauled out the old printer we have upstairs and hooked it up to the computer. We call this printer the "workhorse" because it never dies although it's getting streakier as it ages.

I missed my all-in-one and we can't afford to buy a new one so Wes did a most amazing, unusual thing. He went on to the Hewlett Packard website, asked for advice, and within hours, we received an email back, suggesting that we do some fancy acrobatics with our fingers while plugging in the power chord. We tried it, not expecting anything to happen but much to our amazement, it worked! I still can't believe it! I can once again use my printer/scanner/fax.

We have learned several valuable lesson through all of this.

1. When you enter some websites and ask questions, you may actually get a response from a real person. Thank you Clint!
2. Sometimes it is possible to fix an electronic machine rather than have to throw it away (which seems to be the case more often than not).
3. It's worth sending an inquiry. You may be surprised.
4. The next time something like this happens, I'm going to get help sooner rather than later.

Oh joy! Now, I'm going to check the Kenmore site to find out about my 1 year old washer.

I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing...

It's been a few days and I find myself enjoying the memories of last weekend. I bought a Wailin' Jennys CD entitled "40 Days." They weren't at the Folk Fest but they have been very much a part of it over the years. I've played this CD probably about 6 times already and I just love it. I love their lyrics and harmonies. The first song on the album "One Voice" is so incredibly well written and well done:

This is the sound of one voice

One spirit, one voice

The sound of one who makes a choice

This is the sound of one voice

This is the sound of voices two

The sound of me singing with you

Helping each other to make it through

This is the sound of voices two

This is the sound of voices three

Singing together in harmony

Surrendering to the mystery

This is the sound of voices three

This is the sound of all of us

Singing with love and the will to trust

Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust

This is the sound of all of us

This is the sound of one voice

One people, one voice

A song for every one of us

This is the sound of one voice

This is the sound of one voice.

The song begins with only one person singing..."This is the sound of one voice..." On the second verse, a second voice joins in harmony but the sound is "open." For you music freaks out there, the harmony in the second verse is mostly intervals of 4ths 5ths and 6ths. It sounds beautiful but it feels somewhat incomplete. On the 3rd verse, a third harmony joins and completes the chord. In the last verse, there is perfect harmony but notice the words "This is the sound of one voice." Three different parts, but all working together to create something beautiful.

Oooh. It gives me goosebumps. It is so simple, so clever and so beautiful. This is how we should view the world and our relationships. Many distinct parts but the potential to create something beautiful. I think that's why I love harmony so much. I enjoy all kinds of music but when I hear well sung harmonies such as the ones by the Wailin' Jennys, I am deeply touched.

Other things about the Folk Festival that I enjoyed:

• Standing in line for water. I stood in line for 1/2 hour, in the stifling heat, waiting to fill my water bottle. Yes, I enjoyed it because it helped me think about the millions of people in this world who have to stand in line for hours, in the blazing sun any time they need water. I am so grateful for cold, clean fresh water that is usually available at the turn of a tap.
• The harmonies.
• The sound. The sound technicians did an amazing job.
• The incredible diversity of people.
• Just hangin' out, eating junk food.
• Always hearing music.
• It was too hot for me to dance but watching people dancing especially to the sound of the Irish jigs and reels. They reminded me of fairies, even though they were full grown, adults and children.
• Parents and children enjoying the same music.
• We didn't encounter any obnoxious, rude people. People truly were friendly, cheerful and kind.

Like Heather, I can't wait for next year.

Making A Difference in My Corner of the World

(I began writing this blog the day I heard about the bombings in London but it wasn't quite ready to post. I still think it's worth posting.)

My heart goes out to our brothers and sisters in London who experienced the terror and horror of war in a very personal way yesterday. I can't imagine what it must have been like to be trapped in those carriages while smoke swirled around and darkness closed in. I am reminded of the terrorist attack in New York a few short years ago. While I may not agree with many of the decisions that the British and American politicians have made over the last few years, I cannot condone any kind of violence or act of terrorism.

Ken Livingstone, mayor of London strongly condemned the attacks. "This was not a terrorist attack against the mighty and the powerful; it is not aimed at presidents or prime ministers; it was aimed at ordinary working class Londoners, black and white, Muslim and Christians, Hindu and Jew, young and old, indiscriminate attempt at slaughter irrespective of any considerations, of age, of class, of religion, whatever, that isn't an ideology, it isn't even a perverted faith, it's just indiscriminate attempt at mass murder, and we know what the objective is, they seek to divide London.

I must agree with Mr. Livingstone. These thugs are not ideologists, they do not represent anyone or anything that is Muslim. There is nothing "holy" about what they're doing. How can they talk about a "holy war?" To be holy means "to belong to, associate with, or consecrated to God or a divine power." What I know about God is that he is all about love. Killing innocent people on a subway is not an act of love.

I admire the British for the way they're dealing with this. They will not be intimidated by these murderers. Watching the news last night, most of the people interviewed said that they would continue working and living in London and using the subway. It reminds me of the many stories of courage we hear of the bombing of London during WWII.

It is at times like this, when the ugly side of humanity rises up that I wonder what I can do to change the world. I feel so helpless. Sure, I can write my politicians and get some form letter back from them thanking them for my interest. I can join organisations that promote peace and justice. However, I think that Mother Teresa had it right when she said, "Peace and war begin at home. If we truly want peace in the world, let us begin by loving one another in our own families. If we want to spread joy, we need for every family to have joy."

While I am an imperfect parent and citizen, I can begin spreading joy in my home, my neighbourhood and to the people with whom I come in contact. If I share something of the love of God to people around me, I believe that I can make a difference in the world.

Graduation

Here we are. Wes, Tim and I. Last night was wonderful and Tim's song was beautiful. His class gave him a standing ovation. I am so proud! And yes, he did pass. The diploma is authentic.

Tears For Grad

My friends, Paul and Jo have an incredibly cute and beautiful four month old baby who I had the pleasure of holding the other day. Adam loves his soother and at 4 months is showing signs of incredible brilliance. He is able to reach and grasp his toys and can hold his head up like no other kid his age. His smile is enough to cheer up even the saddest and most discouraged person.

Compared to me, Adam cries alot. He cries when he's hungry, bored, sick, tired, when he has cramps or needs a diaper change. He is smart enough to know that he needs attention and is able to get it from someone. His preferred method of letting people know his needs is by his crying.

I on the other hand, do not cry for the same reasons Adam cries. My tears are most often the result of some strong emotion I'm experiencing. When each of my children were born, I experienced incredible pain and discomfort during the labour and birthing process. I will not go into detail about that whole thing but the nurses and doctors told me I "did well." (I know, they probably say that to everyone but believe me, I needed to hear that!) But through all of that, I shed no tears. Indeed, the waterworks started as soon as I heard my baby's first sound. There is no sweeter sound and I have had the pleasure of hearing it 4 times in my life.

Today, tears come fairly easy to me. I cried tears of joy when Ben and Carolyn got married. I cry when I watch the news or hear of some horrible event that has occurred. I don't need to know the people involved but I can empathize with them. I cry whenever I hear the national anthem played. I cry at the Remembrance Day ceremony every year.

Tonight, I will attend Tim's Grade 12 Graduation ceremony and just thinking about it gets me teary eyed. We have been involved with his school for more than 25 years as I began my teaching career there in 1979. So this graduation has a lot of meaning for me. We will see Tim and the amazing group of young people who compromise his class standing together for the last time. Most have big plans-travel, mission work, university, college and it is likely that Tim may never see some of them again.

It is a small school and there are only 27 people in this graduating class. Tim, along with 4 or 5 others have been together, in the same class for 13 years, since kindergarten. For some people, (Kristen included) this seems somewhat stifling and they would prefer to be in a larger school, meeting new people. Not for Tim. When they decided to begin a high school the year he was entering Grade 10, he decided to stay along with about half of his class.

It hasn't always been easy for Tim at that school. As a matter of fact, grades 3-8 were really tough for him socially. The way he learned how to survive in school was by staying away from his classmates and not communicating with them. If he had the option of working on a group project or working alone, he would always choose to do it alone. He would never join in the joking and bantering with his classmates. He'd either hang out with the teachers or he would hang out alone. I stopped attending field trips and helping out at school because seeing Tim as a loner, broke my heart. This was not my son! I knew him as a goofy, noisy, extroverted and fun kid. We seriously considered home schooling him on a number of occasions.

But for whatever reasons, we decided to stick it out. And I am so grateful that we did. Grades 10-12 saw him grow in stature, (they call him the big man on campus) in self confidence, in wisdom and in knowledge. He has also matured spiritually. Much of that growth is a result, I believe of sticking it out. Tremendous healing has taken place in Tim's life. I think that if we had changed schools, or decided to home school, this healing may have never occured and we would have left the school with broken relationships and unfinished business.

I believe that Tim and we his parents have grown tremendously as a result of all that has happened. We have learned that there is freedom in forgiveness, that people change and that healing can take place where there once was pain. We have had the opportunity to give and receive grace and acceptance. We have worked with the teachers and principal and learned that they really do care about all aspects of Tim's education, including his relationships with his peers. We have worked through the pain and discovered incredible joy at the end of this part of the journey.

So, tonight I will be shedding tears of joy, thanksgiving and gratitude. Tim will be singing a beautiful song that has become something of a theme song for the class and I will remember where he came from, where he is today and where he is going.

My Beautiful Girl

Here she is! Two of my favourite pics of Kristen, at 2 and at 16. I'm so glad that I'm finally able to post pictures! Stay tuned for more of my faves.

Wide Awake in Winnipeg

It's 5:22 AM and I have been up for 2 hours and 10 minutes.

What do you do when you can't sleep at night? All suggestions will be considered.

Mother and Daughter

I read this on a website today:

1. Conception: A fetus is conceived
2. Birth: A baby girl is born
3. Infancy: The daughter fixates on her mother
4. Childhood: Mother teaches daughter how to be female
5. Adolescence: Daughter pushes away from mother to find independence
6. Partnership: Daughter selects and attracts a partner
7. Motherhood: Daughter becomes pregnant and gives birth

We are definitely at stage #5 in our house. Raising a daughter has brought on a whole new meaning of parenting for me. It is, so far, the most challenging stage. My own insecurities as a parent are constantly finding their way into my consciousness. Have I taught her well? Will the morals and beliefs that she has seen in my life influence the decisions she is making? Does she know I love her? Have I taught her "how to be female?"

How can a mother teach her daughter how to be female when the lessons she herself learned were unacceptable? In my day, I learned that women were either "doormats" or "sex objects." I learned that the most important thing was to be liked by others. It was hard to know where I fit into this belief system.

So I taught my daughter to not let a man dictate who she was and to be able to take care of herself. She learned a very important lesson from her dad too and that was to not allow "the acceptance of others" influence her actions. I guess that's what you call independence. Unfortunately, she is practising the very things I have attempted to teach her and I DON'T LIKE IT! I long for the days when we could cuddle on the couch and read stories, when I could put her to bed and say her prayers, and when I was the first person she turned to for advice or comfort. I long for the days when I really knew what was best for her and most often could convince her of that. And if she couldn't be convinced, I would just make her do what I needed her to do because I was bigger than her. Back then, it was easier to know what was best.

Today, I just don't know. She's become wise and often, when she pushes against the boundaries, I don't know what to do or say. If I don't have a good reason, it's hard for me to argue. "Because I just don't feel comfortable with it" is not a good enough answer for her. I want her to know that I trust her but so often, when those boundaries are tested and I fail to give permission, she assumes that I don't trust her.

Sometimes, I can make myself crazy worrying about all of this.

But today, a little gift. She came home for a couple of minutes to pick up her towel and a sandwich because she's going to the beach with a few friends. She looked cute, with her hair in pigtails. I was feeling a little blue about all of this stuff and she actually asked me if there was something wrong. Then she asked me what I was doing today. Finally, before she left, she hesitated at the door long enough for me to hug her and tell her that I loved her. I hold on to these brief moments of connection. They are pauses in our often stormy relationship, minute events that keep me loving her and reminding me that she's not a bad kid after all.

Happy Father's Day

I wondered how it happened that Father's Day came to be. The cynical part of me thought that it was probably instituted by Hallmark or maybe WalMart. But I was wrong.

Sonora Dodd, of Washington, first had the idea of a "father's day." She thought of the idea for Father's Day while listening to a Mother's Day sermon in 1909.

Sonora wanted a special day to honor her father, William Smart. Smart, who was a Civil War veteran, was widowed when his wife died while giving birth to their sixth child. Mr. Smart was left to raise the newborn and his other five children by himself on a rural farm in eastern Washington state.

After Sonora became an adult she realized the selflessness her father had shown in raising his children as a single parent. It was her father that made all the parental sacrifices and was, in the eyes of his daughter, a courageous, selfless, and loving man. Sonora's father was born in June, so she chose to hold the first Father's Day celebration in Spokane, Washington on the 19th of June, 1910.

President Calvin Coolidge, in 1924, supported the idea of a national Father's Day. Then in 1966 President Lyndon Johnson signed a presidential proclamation declaring the 3rd Sunday of June as Father's Day. President Richard Nixon signed the law which finally made it permanent in 1972.

That's a good story. I think that Sonora had the right idea and creating a day where she could acknowlege the selflessness of her dad was a generous, thoughtful, loving gesture.

I wonder what she would think of Father's Day in 2005?

The flyers that came to my door last week were full of "suggestions" for dad. Weeks before the big day we are reminded that it is coming and that we need to buy something for dad to show him our love. If we don't or can't afford to buy something, we can easily feel like selfish, ungrateful children.

I wonder what Sonora bought her dad for Father's day. I have a feeling that it wasn't a tool, a barbeque, shirt, new pants or golf clubs. I have a feeling that Father's day for Mr. Smart was a day where he experienced the love and appreciation of his children.

All my dad got from me for Father's day was a phone call. I don't send him cards because they are too sappy. We're not "like that."

I think that the only thing my dad really needs from me is love and acceptance and when I am reminded that I don't call often enough, I need to remember why he's saying that. It's because he wants to connect with me, even when we talk about the mundane things like weather, his garden and the volunteer work that he does.

There are scars in our relationship. But they are no longer open, painful, festering wounds. The passage of time has brought much healing. Sometimes though, my scars itch and burn, especially when I knock them on something harsh. And the ones where the nerves were cut never heal completely. Those kind always feel weird, especially when I bang them. At those times, I need to remember how far dad and I have come, I need to remember the pain and I need to let it go again.

She Still Needs Me!

Sometimes, we just have to let go of our principles for a little peace of mind.

As one of our compromises after a particularly hard week, we gave Kristen permission to buy a cell phone. I know. I know. My only excuse is that it was a compromise. It's a really cute lime green number and she loves it. The cell phone came in handy tonight when she called around 11:00 to ask Wes to pick her up at Perkins. I guess all of her plans for a great Saturday night fell to pieces when her friend had a HUGE FIGHT with her sister. They left the house and Kristen called home. I don't like the idea that they decided to walk the 2 kilometres to Perkins, at 10:30 at night but knowing she has the phone and is willing to use it gives me some peace of mind.

When I was a teenager, there were no such thing as cell phones. If we wanted to call home, we found a pay phone. How did our parents do it? Did they worry as much as I do? I used to drive all over the Niagara Penninsula, never thinking that mom and dad might be worried if I wasn't home by midnight.

Nowadays, it seems that everyone needs their own personal phone and I must say that I for one, sleep a lot better at night knowing that Kristen is just a phone call away. When she first got it she told me that I could call her any time I wanted. I responded by saying, "You don't want me calling you when you're hanging out with your friends." She then told me that everyone's mothers call them. As a matter of fact, the only calls that Jordan ever gets are from his mother.

Maybe these independent, *I don't need you mom* teens really do need us and want us. I was surprised when I learned that it is quite acceptable for a parent to call her daughter on a Saturday night when she's at a party. In the last few weeks, she's called me several times in the evening just to let me know that her plans are changing. I kind of like it and for me, it's the peace of mind I have now that makes me know it's good she's got her own phone.

Pupperware?

Before you read this, I must warn you that I am a pet tolerater, not a pet lover. I respect my friends who own dogs and who love them. I will pet your dog and even say "good doggie" to him or her. I understand that when a pet dies, real tears of sorrow are shed and I can empathize with you.

Having said all that, my philosopy on dogs is that they are animals, not people. They should be cared for and even loved. They should have their own bowls for food and water, they need to be played with, taken out for a walk and brought to the vet when necessary.

My friend ccap ranted about a $120.00 doggie bowl last month. Well my dear, I can do better than that! I was watching the CBC news last night (honestly!) and they had an interesting piece of information. It seems that Tupperware parties are being replaced with "Pupperware" parties. I kid you not.

Like Tupperware parties, the hostess of a Pupperware party will invite her animal loving friends and their beloved pets to her house. There, they will meet a consultant who will share with them all of the wonderful things you can buy for your doggie. These things include, canine cologne, breath fresheners, paw balm (for those dry and cracked paws) and more traditional doggie parapernelia-brushes, dishes and of course, the latest in doggie fashion.

Okay, I know that I am not a doggie lover but isn't this just a little extreme? The consultant makes about $200.00 profit in an evening which makes me wonder how much money people are shelling out to make their doggies look and smell good. The hostess also gets free items based on how much is sold in an evening.

And the doggies. It's bad enough for us humans to have to deal with "keeping up with the Joneses" but now our doggies need to keep up with the "Rovers." Not only are we humans reminded that what we have is never enough, we're hoisting our pets onto that bandwagon too. Does Lassie really want to have to take a bath and put ribbons in her hair so she can go out to a party? By 8:00 p.m., most doggies I know are ready for bed and would prefer to be dreaming of chasing rabbits rather than playing silly party games with their friends.

If I have offended my doggie loving friends out there, my apologies. I guess that not owning a pet makes it hard for me to understand this. Maybe I need to have a talk with Buddy my dog-nephew. He might be able to shed some light on this issue. I'll need to wait a few days though. He stinks so bad these days (long story) that I don't want to get too close to him.

Maybe I should buy him some cologne...

Two Days in a Row!

Heard this song on CBC this morning and it seemed like a good one to post today.

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I've got something I can laugh about
I feel good, in a special way
I'm in love and it's a sunny day

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

We take a walk, the sun is shining down
Burns my feet as they touch the ground

Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine
Good day sunshine

Then we lie beneath a shady tree
I love her and she's loving me
She feels good, she know she's looking fine
I'm so proud to know that she is mine

Good day sunshine...

10 Good Things About the Weather

I think BJ Thomas had it right...

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know
The blues they send to meet me won't defeat me
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin..

Well, to quote another song, It's raining again...Today, I'm going to attempt to write a list of 10 good things about the rain. It's the only way I can keep from complainin'. Here goes.

10 Good Things About This Weather:

1. The Hostas in the front garden are looking beautiful and healthy.
2. I can hold off on painting the trim around the windows on the second storey of the house.
3. I don't need to wear a bathing suit yet.
4. We're saving a ton of money on sunscreen.
5. The mosquitoes are not a problem yet.
6. The kids studying for exams are not tempted to be outside.
7. I'm getting my money's worth out of my umbrella.
8. My rain barrel's all filled up so I'll have lots of water for my garden once the sun starts shining.
9. The water table's so high that there won't be restrictions on watering the lawn for many years to come. (I don't actually water my lawn but I'm sure there are people who will be happy about this.)
10. It's not snow.

The Interview Game

ccap has asked me five questions to respond to because I asked her. Here they are:

1) What is the one thing you regret not doing before you settled down into marriage and family?

I try not to dwell much on regrets because there's not much you can do about them but I must say that my biggest regret is that I didn't travel more. I hope to make up for that in a few years, when Kristen is out of high school.

2) If you and your sisters could do ANYTHING you wanted (without kid responsibilities) on a Saturday afternoon what would it be?

Twice a year there is a tour of Art Galleries in the Interlake. If we could do it in an afternoon, I think that would be perfect. Of course, we'd have to stop for a latte somewhere and also, end the afternoon with a great dinner. The weather would have to be perfect too-sun and no warmer than 23 degrees celcius.

3) Looking back and not being able to use the same names, what other names would you give your children?

I like the name Trevor but when I taught Juniour High, there was a Trevor in the grade 7 class and I did NOT want to be reminded of him. So Benjamin was the name of my first born. Eric would have been Nicholas if a friend of mine didn't name her son Nicholas when he was born a month before Eric. I wanted to name Tim "Spencer" but the rest of the family nixed that one and Tim's grateful :). Kristen could have been Corrine.

4) Who is your favourite female Bible character? Explain why.

Funny, I've never thought of that one. My favourite story is the one where a group of men bring a prostitute to Jesus and "ask" him what to do about her because their laws indicated that she must be stoned. The best part of the story is the end, when she is alone with Jesus and he simply tells her to stop sinning and-the best part-he doesn't condemn her. As for my favourite bible character, hmmm. I've just read Esther so I think that now, she would be my favourite. One of the main reasons I respect her is that she acted so selflessly. She could have kept the fact that she was a Jew hidden, but she chose not to and risked her life to save her people. Also, the fact that she was a woman who had so much influence (when women at the time were considered little more valuable than property) makes me want to say "You go girl!" She had courage and wisdom during a time in history when neither characteristic was encouraged especially in women. There are some really funny parts to that story too. When Queen Vashti refused to "dance" for the king and the other partiers (trans.-strip) those men were really worried that all of the women in the kingdom would begin disobeying their husbands so they had to pass a law that decreed that women should obey their husbands. Those guys must have been really worried! Makes me wonder just how much of our history was influenced by women.

5) If you could avoid one household chore for the rest of your life which would it be and why?

I'd have to say tidying up. I HATE tidying up because I do it ALL THE TIME and my place still looks cluttered.

Here are the rules of "The Official Interview Game."

1. If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me." (Make sure I have your email address.)

2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.

3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.

4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions

A Visit to the Doctor

I've been trying to figure out why I feel so depressed today. The weather's been cool, cloudy and grey but usually that doesn't affect my mood. I have a great family, amazing friends and plenty to look forward to today but something's getting me down.

I wonder if it might have something to do with my doctor's appointment today. It's my yearly check up and when she asks me if I have any concerns about my health, I can honestly say no. I feel healthy and other than a few aches and pains that come as a result of added years, I don't believe there's anything wrong. I'm not worried about the blood test, the pap smear, the breast exam. My heart and lungs are healthy and my blood pressure's always been good. I'm proud of that one. Even when I was pregnant, my blood pressure was always where it should have been.

So what am I afraid of? That f****** (oops, had to say it) weigh scale. What is it about the numbers on that horrible machine that cause me shortness of breath and heart palpitations? I got rid of my own scale years ago because of what it did to me so now, only once a year do I have to step on that blasted square thingy, hold my breath and pray for a good number.

(Doesn't the scale look a little like some kind of torture machine to you? Those weights could really hurt a person if they were thrown. Or what if someone were to pick up the scale and say, smash it against the wall? It could really do some damage. Of course, I've never considered doing those kinds of things.)

All I want is for the number to be either the same or a little less than last year. I'd really like the number to be a lot less than last year but I know that it won't be.

So, I'm not worried about cancer, diabetes, a heart condition or hardening of the arteries. I think that maybe, when I'm in my 70's I'll need a hip replacement. I think that because of the many sunburns I've had over the years, that skin cancer could happen in my future. But I don't lose any sleep over these possibilities-things that can really, seriously affect my quality and length of life.

I'm worried about passing the "weigh scale test." It's those stupid numbers on the weigh scale that really won't affect my long term health that I'm fretting about. I should be concerned about the other, more real health concerns but no, all I can think about is stepping on the scale.

Well, I've made a decision. I will go to the doctor but I won't eat lunch before I go, I'll make sure I give her my urine sample before she weighs me and I'll wear my lightest clothes. That should definitely improve the numbers at least by 1/2 pound or so.

And then, I can stop worrying about it for another year.

I Wish I Could Swear

I was reading the blog of another person today. Her entry was really funny and sprinkled with expletives that made me laugh out loud. I used to work at a place where the language was often colourful-not in a crude kind of way but in a way that made me laugh.

I do not swear well. I can when I'm alone and sometimes, when I'm really mad but usually, when I'm with other people, even though I know they likely wouldn't be offended, I just can't do it. I think it must have something to do with my upbringing. We were not allowed to use crude language at home although, when she was really mad, my mom would swear in Dutch. (She has always denied it. I know that she must have done it when she thought we kids weren't around because where else could I have learned Dutch swear words?)

When I used to work at Winnipeg Harvest, December was one of our busiest months. We put together a "small" number of Christmas hampers (200 or more) together for people who could not access one from the Christmas Cheer Board. The Christmas hamper program along with a huge increase in "drop-in" volunteers brought many of us near the edge of sanity. One of my co-workers began wishing us a Merry F****** Christmas. This would cause me to begin laughing hysterically. She was one of the most caring, generous, wise and considerate people at the food bank and she swore creatively. While I wanted to send Christmas greetings back her way, I was unable to do it in the same fashion.

Maybe successful swearing is only for the young. We middle aged folk with children are trying to be a good example to the younger generation. I think that I need to watch my tongue, especially when the kids are around and to reprimand them when their language gets too spicy. I'm not so naive as to think that my children don't swear. They're just smart enough not to do it at home when I'm around.

I have always taken my "eldest child" responsibilities very seriously. I didn't really rebel when I was a teen; I was always aware that there were younger siblings watching me and I needed to be above reproach and obedient. Maybe that's why I feel this need to start swearing now. Maybe I'm entering some kind of mid-life crisis where I need to do something naughty, something I didn't do as a young person, to sort of "experiment" with bad behaviour.

Problem is, I don't really have anything to swear about right now. Oh wait. I know. This f****** weather (tee hee). I am so d*** (hee hee) sick and tired of this f****** (oops) weather that I could SWEAR!

Lucky Me

Today, I got to hang out with an ultra cool, funny and interesting little person. Her name is Maddie and there are some of you reading this blog who might know her too.

I can't remember the last time I had a little kid all to myself. Joey and Micah used to come over for an "Auntie Linda" day once a week when they were little but since then, children who visit are usually accompanied by their parents.

Today, I've got a good "Maddie Story:"

As we were driving to my place, Maddie was trying to figure out which house I lived in. She knows me and has been here a few times but wasn't quite sure which home belonged to me. We were chatting when suddenly, Maddie remembered something. "Uncle J-L ate the poop." She remembered that the last time she was at my place, there was a party and one of the games included her uncle, a doll and a diaper. (Don't worry. It sounds bad but it really wasn't.)

I asked her if it was "real poop" that he ate and she assured me that it was. Fortunately, she thought that it was a pretty gross thing to do so I don't think her mom and dad have to worry about Maddie ever doing the same thing! I know that Maddie, her sisters and various other little people think that Uncle J-L is cool but I do believe that he must have catapulted right up to "ubercoolness" after pulling off a stunt like that.

The rest of the day passed by quickly. We baked cookies, made a tower, played pool, read some books and created a little town with a train station. I had fun. It's good for me to get on the floor and just hang out for a while with a little person. My 12 Step friends tell me to live in the present, one day at a time. Thanks to Maddie, I was able to do that today-and she made me laugh.

A Great Education

Last Wednesday, I, along with my 2 sisters and a great group of volunteers, ran a Hot Dog Barbeque. This opportunity was presented to us and we, without giving it too much thought, agreed to do it. Here is what I learned:

1. Never order smokies over the phone without first tasting them.
2. Make sure you allow for waste, bad tasting smokies and weather when you decide how much you will charge.
3. Be sure, when ordering items like 800 hotdog buns that you talk to the guy in charge of delivery so HE includes it in HIS delivery schedule.
4. Picking up 800 hotdog buns from the bakery is worth it when you get them for only $1.00 a dozen.
5. When you have a hotdog sale at an elementary school, don't bother with smokies.
6. There are always wonderful people who are willing to help out.
7. It helps to have a very large van and a few strong and willing people to transport barbeques.
8. The least popular Old Dutch potato chip flavour is dill pickle.
9. Most people don't complain about bad smokies. They just don't come back for more.
10. When you break even on an event, it helps to figure out what you learned and chalk it up to experience.

There they are folks. The 10 things I learned. Incidentally, we're planning to do this again next year. Can't let a good education go to waste.