Have you ever started out one day feeling better than better and then shortly after you feel as though you are two miles past wrong? It's as though you made a flight plan from Seattle, WA to Toyko, Japan and when you were punching in all your numbers and settings for your plane to be set at, you punched in one degree of latitude less. At first, it doesn't seem like a big deal. You are only slightly off the mark. You are still heading in the same direction. Only shortly after, you suddenly find yourself having to make an emergency landing in the Yukon because you now see that one degree might have not made a big difference in the beginning, but it sure makes a big difference after 4 hours. And you realize that if you don't take this ememrgency landing now, that you may miss your last chance of getting where you are supposed to go and being able to land safely.
That's where I am today. I am at the emergency stop in Yukon. Not literally. Only figuratively.
It's almost like my life right now feels like a bag of socks. There are always those socks that needing matching and pairing after the laundry. And every once in a while you find a loose sock with no mate. So, you stick it in a sock bag and after a while you dump out the contents of the sock bag to see if the two lone socks have met up with each other. Sometimes they have and you're relieved that the dryer didn't eat them. And then sometimes you can't match the loose sock to anything...not after four consecutive times of being a member of the sock bag. And after awhile, you have about 5 or 7 socks that have no partner, no matching piece, and they no longer make sense in your life. The easy solution is to throw them out (or turn them into sock puppets for your two year old). But, the romantic, hopeful side of you says,"Wait, I'll just give these guys one more chance. Maybe, just maybe, on the next wash, the dryer will release it back into my hands."
But that never happens.
And time goes on and you have all these socks that just need to been thrown out. They are good for no purpose.
That's where I am today. Stuck with a bunch of pieces of my life that don't add up or make sense. And they aren't even really big issues or important matters. They are just all these tiny things that are taking up space, yet don't really matter. Yet, I'm still hesitant to throw them away. After all, they did serve a purpose once.
And so that's where I am today: in Yukon, on an emergency landing, with a bag full of mismatched socks.
I hope that makes sense.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Cheeky husband breaks onto blog
(REUTER) In a surprising twist of events, Jeep (Allie's husband and fellow blog author) has admitted to tampering with her blog, hence the previous post of the ice cream question.
When interviewed Allie had this to say. "Frankly, I was quite shocked. I logged onto my blog and I suddenly saw words that weren't my own. It was very disturbing, actually. I may need therapy to recover...ice cream therapy, of course."
Jeep was unavailable for comment but sources revealed that when questioned about hacking into his wife's blog and posting on it that he blushed and responded with, "So?"
Further investigation revealed that Jeep did not hack onto the blog, but rather wrote on it after his wife failed to log out.
Moral of the story: You snooze, you lose...precious blog space.
When interviewed Allie had this to say. "Frankly, I was quite shocked. I logged onto my blog and I suddenly saw words that weren't my own. It was very disturbing, actually. I may need therapy to recover...ice cream therapy, of course."
Jeep was unavailable for comment but sources revealed that when questioned about hacking into his wife's blog and posting on it that he blushed and responded with, "So?"
Further investigation revealed that Jeep did not hack onto the blog, but rather wrote on it after his wife failed to log out.
Moral of the story: You snooze, you lose...precious blog space.
What is your flavorite kind?
I like ice cream... Do you like ice cream? I like the Haagen-Dazs flavour: Carmel Cone Explosion! I also like Chapman's Strawberry Banana flavour. What is your favorite Ice cream flavour(s). Post your comment and let me know, okay.
Yours truly...
Yours truly...
Where there is smoke, there's fire
So, the fire department dropped by my house the other day.
In my quest to multi-task (cook a meat loaf, pack boxes, paint cupboards, renovate, etc) attention to important details have completely slipped my mind.
A few nights ago, I cooked lasagna. A delicious, aromatic lasagna that had spilled all over the bottom of the oven while it cooked. I forgot to clean it up.
Fast forward to the next day, I was making a meat loaf. I stuck it in the oven and went to the living room to move some of the growing garbage piles to the outside so that we could go through more of our stuff and...throw it away.
As I walked up the steps into my kitchen, I saw smoke streaming out of an element.
"Odd."
I approached the stove and saw flames dancing around inside the stove, reminiscent of the early Sunday school felt board productions of Shadrach, Meschach and Abed-Nego and the fiery furnace.
"Very oddd. "
I walk over to my pantry and grab the fire extinguisher and the baking soda. I'm debating which one to use when I think "wait a minute...if I open the oven door, I will only add oxygen to the fire. That would not be good."
I call 911. I really just want to know whether or not I should use baking soda or the fire extinguisher.
I'm calm. I'm fine. I'm relating details to the 911 operator.
I tell her that the fire looks like it's burning itself out. She puts me on hold as she talks to the fire department.
I'm calm. I'm fine. I smile at Anne whose taken the intiative to get herself and her baby sister dressed to go outside in case things get out of hand.
The operator comes back on and says,"Ok, ma'am. They are on their way."
"They're what?"
"They're on their way."
SNAP. Lose it. Complete and total meltdown. I started crying and freaking out.
So weird. When things are in crisis, I'm fine. When help is on the way, I'm not. Strange.
Anyway, those boys move like lightening. I only have the chance to hang up the phone, check the oven and see that the fire has indeed burned itself out, pace the floor twice and usher the girls to the door just in time to see the fire department pull up into my yard.
The team leader is in full dress and I yell from my doorway, "it's out". He makes a gesture to the men who are unloading from the truck to stop.
Everyone stops.
The team leader and another man come into the house and ask me all sorts of questions. They look at my stove and tell me a few options I can do if this should ever happen again. I look out the window and see the other 5 crew members piling back into the truck (they all had their masks on and full gear), I watch the kind captain in his full outfit talking me through the situation and I look at the meat loaf that has no chance of survival.
The captain says, "...just flip the power switch off if it happens again."
And I burst out crying.
Both men give me a hug.
I apologize profusely but they tell me it's ok. They tell me that this is their job and they are here to help and it doesn't matter that the fire went out before they got here. It wasn't a waste of their time. They just wanted to be certain that my girls and I are safe.
I blubber some more and cry into the firemen's coat. Apparently my emotions are on a delayed timer and they come out after actual events take place.
The fire chief suggest I go show the girls the firetuck--he probably could sense that I needed to be outside after I snotted all over his coat.
I bring my girls to the truck. Thank the men profusely. They all eschew it and say they are just doing their job. Two of the fighters show Anne and Brie the truck and give them each a teddy bear. I take a picture on my cell phone and text Peter: "Guess who's here? The fire department." To which he quickly text back" What's going on?" I let him know we're ok and that he's not going to believe this one.
I've collected some pretty embarrassing moments in the time we've been married, but really this one takes the cake, the prize trophy and is worth a T-shirt that reads "Someone who loves you nearly burned the house down and ruined dinner."
At any rate, we were fine. The firefighters were awesome. These men are really amazing people. And I can't thank them enough for their kindness and staying with me until I felt ok and empowering me with the knowledge of what to do should this ever happen again. They assure me that this is their job and I did the right thing by not opening the stove door and giving them a call. Off they go...everyone of them heroes in my eyes.
I'm calm now. I'm fine now.
soon after, Peter gets home, gives me the biggest hug and whispers the words that I so desperately need to hear, "Baby, I'm taking you out for dinner."
In my quest to multi-task (cook a meat loaf, pack boxes, paint cupboards, renovate, etc) attention to important details have completely slipped my mind.
A few nights ago, I cooked lasagna. A delicious, aromatic lasagna that had spilled all over the bottom of the oven while it cooked. I forgot to clean it up.
Fast forward to the next day, I was making a meat loaf. I stuck it in the oven and went to the living room to move some of the growing garbage piles to the outside so that we could go through more of our stuff and...throw it away.
As I walked up the steps into my kitchen, I saw smoke streaming out of an element.
"Odd."
I approached the stove and saw flames dancing around inside the stove, reminiscent of the early Sunday school felt board productions of Shadrach, Meschach and Abed-Nego and the fiery furnace.
"Very oddd. "
I walk over to my pantry and grab the fire extinguisher and the baking soda. I'm debating which one to use when I think "wait a minute...if I open the oven door, I will only add oxygen to the fire. That would not be good."
I call 911. I really just want to know whether or not I should use baking soda or the fire extinguisher.
I'm calm. I'm fine. I'm relating details to the 911 operator.
I tell her that the fire looks like it's burning itself out. She puts me on hold as she talks to the fire department.
I'm calm. I'm fine. I smile at Anne whose taken the intiative to get herself and her baby sister dressed to go outside in case things get out of hand.
The operator comes back on and says,"Ok, ma'am. They are on their way."
"They're what?"
"They're on their way."
SNAP. Lose it. Complete and total meltdown. I started crying and freaking out.
So weird. When things are in crisis, I'm fine. When help is on the way, I'm not. Strange.
Anyway, those boys move like lightening. I only have the chance to hang up the phone, check the oven and see that the fire has indeed burned itself out, pace the floor twice and usher the girls to the door just in time to see the fire department pull up into my yard.
The team leader is in full dress and I yell from my doorway, "it's out". He makes a gesture to the men who are unloading from the truck to stop.
Everyone stops.
The team leader and another man come into the house and ask me all sorts of questions. They look at my stove and tell me a few options I can do if this should ever happen again. I look out the window and see the other 5 crew members piling back into the truck (they all had their masks on and full gear), I watch the kind captain in his full outfit talking me through the situation and I look at the meat loaf that has no chance of survival.
The captain says, "...just flip the power switch off if it happens again."
And I burst out crying.
Both men give me a hug.
I apologize profusely but they tell me it's ok. They tell me that this is their job and they are here to help and it doesn't matter that the fire went out before they got here. It wasn't a waste of their time. They just wanted to be certain that my girls and I are safe.
I blubber some more and cry into the firemen's coat. Apparently my emotions are on a delayed timer and they come out after actual events take place.
The fire chief suggest I go show the girls the firetuck--he probably could sense that I needed to be outside after I snotted all over his coat.
I bring my girls to the truck. Thank the men profusely. They all eschew it and say they are just doing their job. Two of the fighters show Anne and Brie the truck and give them each a teddy bear. I take a picture on my cell phone and text Peter: "Guess who's here? The fire department." To which he quickly text back" What's going on?" I let him know we're ok and that he's not going to believe this one.
I've collected some pretty embarrassing moments in the time we've been married, but really this one takes the cake, the prize trophy and is worth a T-shirt that reads "Someone who loves you nearly burned the house down and ruined dinner."
At any rate, we were fine. The firefighters were awesome. These men are really amazing people. And I can't thank them enough for their kindness and staying with me until I felt ok and empowering me with the knowledge of what to do should this ever happen again. They assure me that this is their job and I did the right thing by not opening the stove door and giving them a call. Off they go...everyone of them heroes in my eyes.
I'm calm now. I'm fine now.
soon after, Peter gets home, gives me the biggest hug and whispers the words that I so desperately need to hear, "Baby, I'm taking you out for dinner."
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Moving on, moving forward, moving again
So, in a surprising and stunning twist of events, we are moving back to the Bridge! I can't say that I'm sad. I love it there. and here...well, here was slowly growing on me...like a fungus mushroom grows on a tree. (Wait...does that even make scientific sense?)
And God, with His usual brilliance and slightly dry British humour, has turned this into a very fun adventure.Case in point, I found out that we were going to move back on the day I finally unpacked our last box.
Ha!Ha! Really. I thought it was funny and so I laughed and made sure I saved that box for packing up.
So, I've been boxing instead of blogging and I'm thinking about how I'm really glad for yet another chance to purge out all unneccessary stuff. Anybody want a steamer that I haven't used for the last four moves? How about a toaster oven that's travelled with me the last three times or the new used lawn chairs I just bought. Anyone want them? Anyone?
Anyway, I'll be around...but now that I'm moving out of a house that I own I will be pre-occupied with following my kids around and wiping fingerprints off the wall so that it can be ready to show at any given point.
So, this is the sixth move in the past two years...I am a professional packer now and i am a pro at going with the flow and the cool way God keeps me on my toes. 2008 is beautifl, bright and as so clearly seen early on: full of surprises.
Lovin' life. Lovin' you! (then point your arm out at someone you know) - from Elizabethtown
And God, with His usual brilliance and slightly dry British humour, has turned this into a very fun adventure.Case in point, I found out that we were going to move back on the day I finally unpacked our last box.
Ha!Ha! Really. I thought it was funny and so I laughed and made sure I saved that box for packing up.
So, I've been boxing instead of blogging and I'm thinking about how I'm really glad for yet another chance to purge out all unneccessary stuff. Anybody want a steamer that I haven't used for the last four moves? How about a toaster oven that's travelled with me the last three times or the new used lawn chairs I just bought. Anyone want them? Anyone?
Anyway, I'll be around...but now that I'm moving out of a house that I own I will be pre-occupied with following my kids around and wiping fingerprints off the wall so that it can be ready to show at any given point.
So, this is the sixth move in the past two years...I am a professional packer now and i am a pro at going with the flow and the cool way God keeps me on my toes. 2008 is beautifl, bright and as so clearly seen early on: full of surprises.
Lovin' life. Lovin' you! (then point your arm out at someone you know) - from Elizabethtown
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Memories that stay in your head
Yesterday was one of the funnest days!
My friends, Dave and Tara, wanted to go to the big city to do their Christmas shopping, so I volunteered to watch their four kids for the day.
A lot of fun can happen with six kids.
We started the day by building a fort out of blankets, chairs and the broom.We read Christmas stories inside our fort.
Then we did wax art. You light candles, hold the crayons over the candle and then drip it on the paper. I have tons of Christmas stencils--the kind from the fake snow you put on the windows--and we had so much fun creating our pictures.
Josiah, the five year old, said,"This is fun. I like fire. My name means the "fire of God", so fire and I are a good match."
Quick lesson and reminder on fire safety and no playing with matches.
Lunch came without much fanfare and after it we had 15 minutes of quiet time while I put my Brie for a nap and little Hannah for a nap.
Time to make a gingerbread house! We followed the instructions and played hot potato with squishing the premade icing in the bag for 60 seconds. Then we "glued" the house with the icing. Naomi, the four year old, got the icing bag as we were erecting the walls and poured some directly in her mouth.
Then we played the Eye Spy Christmas book game while we waited for the house to settle. Everyone was having fun until everyone found the thimble before Anne. She loudly declared "I hate all of you and I'm never gonna be your friends again." She stormed off in a huff. Five minutes later, she was back. As she approached the group, Abby, the eight year old, asked Anne if she was ready to forgive them. "Never, but I still want to play."
The timer went off and we headed back to the gingerbread house. Thinking that the house was actually ready to decorate, I started layering on the icing while Abby divvied up the candy. Then the house collapsed. We iced it back into position, set the timer and played Eye Spy book. We did this three more times before the house remained standing. Everyone dumped their candies on the house.
Abby said,"Wait, we need a mint for the house. My Dad loves mints." Everyone had already eaten theirs and there was one left--only slightly licked by Naomi. Abby said,"This one will work. It's for my Dad and we're family, so germs are ok to share." So, on went the slightly licked mint.
Then the roof slid off the house and the walls caved in. Abby, the oldest of the kids, made an executive decision-"Let's just eat this thing." And,so, that's what we did.
After that, the napping toddlers were awake and we attempted a game of Candyland that ended with everyone yelling at eachother that they were never going to be friends again.
To cool everyone off, I decided to bring the snow inside. We got two huge ice cream pails filled with show and set them on the kiddie table.
"What happens when we mix paint and snow?" Josiah asked. So, we hauled out the paints and found out what happens to snow when you mix it with every paint colour you have (it turns black). We continued our experiment with observing what happens to snow when we added many glasses of water (black paint splashes all over the floor).
I set the kids to the living room to dance and Josiah helps me mop up the floor.
A fight breaks out and there's a stomping of feet and proclamations of, "Yeah, well, if you don't say I'm the best then I'm never gonna be your friend again." And on it goes.
Five minutes later, everyone was friends again as we did Colour Resist painting. Out came the crayons and watercolour paints as we painted different winter scenes.
And then, with dinner only an hour away, we had to do what we had to do. On came the ski jackets, and out came the silver bells. I lit a candle inside the hand held lantern for Josiah who, I was reminded, means "fire of God". And then off to our neighbours to sing the one song everyone knew the words to-Jingle Bells.
Oh, the fun of Christmas carolling. What a blast, as we knocked on our neighbours doors and their warm light covered us on the porch.Naomi rang the bells, Annie played the whistle, little Hannah banged the tambourine, Josiah swayed with the brightly shining candle lantern and we all belted out Jingle Bells. The neighbours smiled, cheered the kids, and Merry Christmas rang out to everyone. Once home, Josiah summed it up best. "That was good. I liked that. We made people feel happy. They were smiling." So were we.
Dinner consisted of a brilliant meal of chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. As Josiah ate by the candles, he asked if he could roast his chicken over the flames. Ah, why not? I showed him how close he could get to the flame and we agreed, after some debate, that four inches from the flame was a good comprimise. Dinner consisted of Josiah roasting everyone's chicken, which, as he explained it, made sense since he name did mean "fire of God".
Pajamas, clean up and a bowl of freshly made popcorn brought us to movie time where we set up the tent in the living room and popped in "The Polar Express". All the lights went off except for the myriad of Christmas lights I have in the house.
We watched the magical story of believing and Christmas dreaming and the gift of friendship.
And bedtime approached quickly. Annie and Naomi snuggled up in Anne's bed. Apparently, one of them had admitted that the other ws the best because they were friends again. Brie and Hannah were put in the crib and play pen respectively. And Abby got to sleep in the tent...only after I coaxed Josiah out of it and onto the couch-with the promise that I would light a taper candle in the living room for him to watch as he fell asleep. He agreed that this was a good idea, "After all," he said, "my name does mean fire of God."
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
My friends, Dave and Tara, wanted to go to the big city to do their Christmas shopping, so I volunteered to watch their four kids for the day.
A lot of fun can happen with six kids.
We started the day by building a fort out of blankets, chairs and the broom.We read Christmas stories inside our fort.
Then we did wax art. You light candles, hold the crayons over the candle and then drip it on the paper. I have tons of Christmas stencils--the kind from the fake snow you put on the windows--and we had so much fun creating our pictures.
Josiah, the five year old, said,"This is fun. I like fire. My name means the "fire of God", so fire and I are a good match."
Quick lesson and reminder on fire safety and no playing with matches.
Lunch came without much fanfare and after it we had 15 minutes of quiet time while I put my Brie for a nap and little Hannah for a nap.
Time to make a gingerbread house! We followed the instructions and played hot potato with squishing the premade icing in the bag for 60 seconds. Then we "glued" the house with the icing. Naomi, the four year old, got the icing bag as we were erecting the walls and poured some directly in her mouth.
Then we played the Eye Spy Christmas book game while we waited for the house to settle. Everyone was having fun until everyone found the thimble before Anne. She loudly declared "I hate all of you and I'm never gonna be your friends again." She stormed off in a huff. Five minutes later, she was back. As she approached the group, Abby, the eight year old, asked Anne if she was ready to forgive them. "Never, but I still want to play."
The timer went off and we headed back to the gingerbread house. Thinking that the house was actually ready to decorate, I started layering on the icing while Abby divvied up the candy. Then the house collapsed. We iced it back into position, set the timer and played Eye Spy book. We did this three more times before the house remained standing. Everyone dumped their candies on the house.
Abby said,"Wait, we need a mint for the house. My Dad loves mints." Everyone had already eaten theirs and there was one left--only slightly licked by Naomi. Abby said,"This one will work. It's for my Dad and we're family, so germs are ok to share." So, on went the slightly licked mint.
Then the roof slid off the house and the walls caved in. Abby, the oldest of the kids, made an executive decision-"Let's just eat this thing." And,so, that's what we did.
After that, the napping toddlers were awake and we attempted a game of Candyland that ended with everyone yelling at eachother that they were never going to be friends again.
To cool everyone off, I decided to bring the snow inside. We got two huge ice cream pails filled with show and set them on the kiddie table.
"What happens when we mix paint and snow?" Josiah asked. So, we hauled out the paints and found out what happens to snow when you mix it with every paint colour you have (it turns black). We continued our experiment with observing what happens to snow when we added many glasses of water (black paint splashes all over the floor).
I set the kids to the living room to dance and Josiah helps me mop up the floor.
A fight breaks out and there's a stomping of feet and proclamations of, "Yeah, well, if you don't say I'm the best then I'm never gonna be your friend again." And on it goes.
Five minutes later, everyone was friends again as we did Colour Resist painting. Out came the crayons and watercolour paints as we painted different winter scenes.
And then, with dinner only an hour away, we had to do what we had to do. On came the ski jackets, and out came the silver bells. I lit a candle inside the hand held lantern for Josiah who, I was reminded, means "fire of God". And then off to our neighbours to sing the one song everyone knew the words to-Jingle Bells.
Oh, the fun of Christmas carolling. What a blast, as we knocked on our neighbours doors and their warm light covered us on the porch.Naomi rang the bells, Annie played the whistle, little Hannah banged the tambourine, Josiah swayed with the brightly shining candle lantern and we all belted out Jingle Bells. The neighbours smiled, cheered the kids, and Merry Christmas rang out to everyone. Once home, Josiah summed it up best. "That was good. I liked that. We made people feel happy. They were smiling." So were we.
Dinner consisted of a brilliant meal of chicken nuggets and mac and cheese. As Josiah ate by the candles, he asked if he could roast his chicken over the flames. Ah, why not? I showed him how close he could get to the flame and we agreed, after some debate, that four inches from the flame was a good comprimise. Dinner consisted of Josiah roasting everyone's chicken, which, as he explained it, made sense since he name did mean "fire of God".
Pajamas, clean up and a bowl of freshly made popcorn brought us to movie time where we set up the tent in the living room and popped in "The Polar Express". All the lights went off except for the myriad of Christmas lights I have in the house.
We watched the magical story of believing and Christmas dreaming and the gift of friendship.
And bedtime approached quickly. Annie and Naomi snuggled up in Anne's bed. Apparently, one of them had admitted that the other ws the best because they were friends again. Brie and Hannah were put in the crib and play pen respectively. And Abby got to sleep in the tent...only after I coaxed Josiah out of it and onto the couch-with the promise that I would light a taper candle in the living room for him to watch as he fell asleep. He agreed that this was a good idea, "After all," he said, "my name does mean fire of God."
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
A night with Miss Iz
My friend Inez came over last night. She is our adopted family member.
Peter and I love adopting college students, feeding them, encouraging them, hanging out and hearing about the drama of learning to live life on your own. Our family gets bigger every year! And Inez is as quirky and crazy as the rest of us, so she fits in perfectly.
Here's some things Inez and I learned last night:
*Jesus is the best (naturally, this is a given. But when you really look at what He's done in your life the past year, you come to the conclusion that "Jesus is the best")
*When it comes to decorating sugar cookies, there is no such thing as too much icing or sprinkles
*Foam gingerbread houses can be finicky--nothing a bottle of glue can't fix
*You can't have pizza without cheese
* You can't go wrong with a Jack Johnson song
*Soy products offer Noel Nog...because egg nog just wouldn't make sense
*The Nanny Diaries is a movie worth skipping
*Jesus is the best (Again, some truths are obvious but bear repeating)
Peter and I love adopting college students, feeding them, encouraging them, hanging out and hearing about the drama of learning to live life on your own. Our family gets bigger every year! And Inez is as quirky and crazy as the rest of us, so she fits in perfectly.
Here's some things Inez and I learned last night:
*Jesus is the best (naturally, this is a given. But when you really look at what He's done in your life the past year, you come to the conclusion that "Jesus is the best")
*When it comes to decorating sugar cookies, there is no such thing as too much icing or sprinkles
*Foam gingerbread houses can be finicky--nothing a bottle of glue can't fix
*You can't have pizza without cheese
* You can't go wrong with a Jack Johnson song
*Soy products offer Noel Nog...because egg nog just wouldn't make sense
*The Nanny Diaries is a movie worth skipping
*Jesus is the best (Again, some truths are obvious but bear repeating)
Friday, December 14, 2007
Happy Birthday to Brie...belated
My baby girl is two!
Time has whipped by and I'm here holding two years worth of wonderful memories. My daughter Brienda is nicknamed Sunnybear. She has the sunniest disposition in the world. She wakes up and says, "Oh, hi!" She lies on the floor and extends her arms and hands and says,"I'mflyin'!" She is very polite and almost always says,"Thank you, Ma-ma." And when she is in one of her two year old moods instead of saying "no", her eyebrows come down, her lip pouts out, she waves her hand and says,"Never!"
She is complete and total sugar. Thank you God for the sunshine that my daughter brings.
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