And just exactly how do you get a lime in the coconut, hmmm?

My daughter asked if we could buy a coconut the other day. I said, "Yes." Not really thinking through the facts that:

1. I have never bought a coconut before

2. I have never had to open one before

So there it sat on my cutting board.
Staring me down like Clint Eastwood in a cowboy gunfight.

So I stared back with a steely eyed look that said, "You will not defeat me."

See?

I grab a knife and begin the tedious job of hacking away at what is called 'the bone' (and the insides are called meat...are we still talking about fruit here?)

I hack, I saw, I grunt, I whack, I chop.

People, I followed directions ( I know, but there's always a first time for everything)

But it turns out that this coconut has more Clint Eastwood in him than I originally first thought.

I decide to bring out a machete-like big knife that you see all the fancy chefs use on Food TV.

I raise it in the air and my girls cry, "Head for the hills!"

Probably a good idea.

After twenty minutes and a good deal of saying, "Good grief" I finally manage to dislodge a large piece of coconut.

We eagerly reach in our spoons and scrape out some of the meat.

With great delight we put the spoonful in our mouth...

and then promptly spit it back out.

It seems raw, fresh coconut is not the same as shredded unsweetened coconut. I cannot coax them to have anymore.

So I tell my plans to the coconut, "I'm going to scrape your insides out and put them in my blender with some raw honey and banana."

To which Clint the Coconut says:

Noooooooo!

How NOT to look like a band member of K*SS

Welcome to Not Me! Monday! This blog carnival was created by MckMama. You can head over to her blog to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

So here is a little tutorial for all you ladies...

Step One: Do not apply this right before you go to church

Step Two: Do not sing this song and cry as you worship your Saviour

Do not worry, you do not end up looking like this:

Step Three: Afterwards, do not greet other members of the congregation without first looking in the mirror or asking your spouse if it your face looks ok.

Do not wonder why people are looking at you funny.

Do not laugh hysterically when you go to the bathroom and finally see yourself in the mirror.

Do not do that.

I would never do that, though.

Because I don't laugh hysterically!

Friday Flashback: Street Names

Welcome to Flashback Friday.
Each Friday I write about something from my past. Sometimes it's meaningful, sometimes it's nonsense. But it all has purpose. Our past moments, however significant, have all been a part of the story of who we are...so why not tell it!
Join me each Friday as I announce a topic and then we write about it and look back to see how far we've come.

This entry concludes my Dear Diary series.

May 16 1999

Today my sister Lori Ann and I were driving to the Convention Centre in EauClaire, WI.

Suddenly she said, "Oh! That's stupid! Look a street called 'Wisconsin' Street. We are in Wisconsin."

"No, that's not stupid. We live in Ontario and our town has a street called Ontario street."

"Yeah, your right. I guess it would only be stupid if it was called Eau Claire Street."

"Yeah."

And then we stopped at a red light and saw that the street we were stopped at was called "Eau Claire Street"

we nearly peed we were laughing so hard.

How about you? Link up and tell us what memory 'Street Names' invokes in your mind.

3 Reasons You Need To Stop Following Me

This has been a lot of fun this Ultimate Blog Party.

It has.

I have found some really fun blogs (which I will post about later) and have met some new friends (yay! Shout out to BK: great comments!)

Ummm....my readership has gone up to 40 followers.

It doubled.

In 5 days.

And I'm kinda freaking out.

Here's why:

I comment back to everyone who follows me and to those who comment my posts. (If I haven't got to you yet, don't worry, I will).

I take my blog seriously in that I want to build friendships with people. I don't do "acquaintances". I develop relationships with people.

It's why I follow Brambleberry Grace and Jesus. Women. Words. These women impact me and I want to get to know them.

Now, I know how this whole party thing works. It's like swapping business cards. We exchange cards and hope that we contact each other in the future. And many times it's just dropped into a rolodex and only glimpsed at occasionally because it happens to be hidden behind the card for the Chinese Take-Out place that is used most often.

I don't want to become that kind of card...er, blog.

And neither do you, right? (maybe not. I could be wrong, it happened to me once before)

Here's the thing. I don't follow for the sake of following.

I have only immediately followed a handful of people and that is usually because I spent a while on their blog reading other posts.

I usually wait 4 weeks before following a blog--just to see if it's something I want to invest my time into. (And if you want to know how seriously I take my time, then please read my post: A guide to staying off your blog)

Maybe I'm having a hard time believing that so many want to read what I have to say, but I mean...truly...do you???

Now you are free to do as you choose but before you follow me, you might want to consider the following:

3 Reasons You Need to Stop Following Me

1. You don't really plan on reading me. You only hit follow 'cause you were in the party mood.

It's ok. You can remove yourself. We all do crazy things at a party some time and I have done some silly things myself.

2. You are hoping I will be reciprocal and follow and boost your numbers. Won't happen. Sorry 'bout that.

3. You collect blog friends, like you collect Facebook friends. I detest Facebook (read here) and I don't want to be remotely associated with those habits!

Well, there you have it. With the complete potential that I've insulted you and your competency.

I realize this is probably counter blog culture, but I guess the truth is...I want to journey with people, not just be another name on a list. I have always desired to be set apart.

So, please don't follow me unless you really mean to.

And I mean REALLY mean to.

It's ok to unsubscribe yourself. I haven't written down a list of names of who is following me and if I see your name disappear I won't be showing up to write mean comments on your blog.

Scouts honour.

This post feels a little bit like a mother walking in to announce that it's time to clean up the tea party and put the dolls away...but every party needs a pooper!

Consider yourself introduced to this party's pooper.

Dear Diary: Peace and Love

Dear Diary series continues as I join in with Walk with Him Wednesday from www.aholyexperience.com. My spiritual discipline is listed at the bottom.

February 2001

Today was emotion vs. faith. Jeep and I went to get an ultrasound to see if we have a tubal pregnancy.

"You do not have a tubal pregnancy," they said, "but you will miscarry. There are vital pieces missing and the ova looks broken."

Jeep almost fainted and fell back into a chair. I started crying and said nothing.

The official radiologist was wearing a white lab coat and the technician didn't look me in the eyes.

They suggested we go back to the hospital and get some blood work done.

We do.

All day I'm fighting my thoughts.

I fight them here in this book.

I'm afraid Lord.

I don't think I can handle a miscarriage. But whatever happens Lord, I will worship You. I will say that You are good to me.

It's all in Your hands now.

(Then the Lord spoke to my heart and said that I was to call this child Shalom and He gave me this poem)

Shalom is in my heart

Shalom is in my Father's arm

Shalom, Shalom one day we'll meet

And I'll see your face of peace

There is nothing missing, nothing broken

For He has made you whole

There is nothing lacking

Nothing hurting

For He is your peace alone

Shalom, the joy you bring

With peace that makes no sense

You're in my Father's arms

Giving me complete rest

You are the very best

Kind of love.

Shalom, I am at peace

Shalom, I am at rest

You are the very best

Kind of love.

Later...

I just finished writing that poem and the phone rang.

It was the doctor.

The blood test shows that my hormone levels are going up and I may not miscarry after all.

Give me strength God.

Feb 18 2002

I started to bleed and miscarry today.

I am not sure how I feel at this point in time. I don't know what to think.

I never want to know this feeling again. It's like we've lost something we never had, but it was completely and fully ours. It was the complete picture of Jeep and I. They weren't mine, they weren't just his. Shalom was ours. And now, I think Shalom's gone.

I am NUMB.

Beyond belief, I am numb.

I love you, Shalom. Mommy loves you. You are so beautiful and precious to me. I can't wait to meet you.

What a day that will be!

February 22 2002

Praise God!

Praise God!

With all that's in me, Praise His Holy Name!

We had another ultrasound today to see why I haven't miscarried.

And on the screen...so small, so slight...Shalom's heartbeat.

I thought Shalom was gone...but the heartbeat was there.

Thank you Jesus!

My little Shalom is a fighter. And You are good.

I am still so afraid. Calm my fears, Lord. Create in my a new heart that I will trust You to be faithful to me no matter what happens.

September 29 2002

I've seen her!

Shalom is here. I've seen her face of peace.

And it is beautiful.

Thank You God! Thank You God! Thank You God!

It is only because of Your grace that I am holding my first baby, and beautiful daughter.

Lord, I give her to You.

I trust You to make me the mother that she needs me to be.

I trust You.

I will worship You and love You and say that You are good no matter what happens.

She is so beautiful Lord.

Thank You, thank You, thank You!

Afterthoughts:

Shalom means 'nothing missing, nothing broken, total peace and wholeness. The radiologist said that I would miscarry because "there were things missing and the ova looked broken". And God whispered to my heart that He would bring His Shalom to my child.

This was emotional for me to put onto my blog. For I know and have wept with many whose babies have been miscarried. I want to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. I pray that this journal entry has pointed you towards Christ and to remind you that He alone can bring peace and that He alone is the very best kind of love.

For those joining from Holy Experience, my spiritual discipline is that I have purposed in my heart to say that God is good no matter what has happened and to have a heart that worships Him no matter what happens.

Shalom to you!

Dear Diary: Are you there God? It's me, Margaret

August 2005

Here is my heart

And all that I am

All of my problems-

they fit in Your hand.

Here are my dreams

And all that I am

All of my failures

They fit in Your hand

Here is my laughter

And the tears that I weep

All of my flesh--

thrown at Your feet

Here are the secrets

and the fears that I drown

All of my sins

created Your crown

Here is my voice

and all that I am

Humbly I bow

For my servant Lamb

I could be Scarlett, but I want Dorothy's ruby shoes

I live in Windy Alley.

To deny it, is like denying that my hair looks like I just got off a motorcycle ride and wore no helmet.

I wear a toque in June while I work on my garden. Every coat I buy has to have the type of lapels you can whip up and hide behind in case the wind comes up. Tumbleweed rolling down my road is normal.

This week we had 100 km/h winds (or 62 mph).

And I was outside.

I know, foolish girl.

But I felt I must go out.

It was important.

Vital, even.

Crucial.

Buying more toilet paper always is.

But it left me feeling much like a character in a novel. I found an archived picture of me that will help you pick which character I am most like.

1. Scarllett O'hara in Gone With the Wind

2. Dorothy from Wizard of Oz who is most notably 'not in Kansas anymore'.

3.Captain Hook meets Hair Spray (You can't stop the beat, people)

You think my past mustache woes would leave me alone for this photo? But, no siree!

JER5x2y1lb is code for "Help! I just want to leave a comment"

***If you are joining me from the Ultimate Blog Party, click here to read my intro***

This Ultimate Blog Party thing is fun.

I am getting new comments.

I am leaving new comments.

It's all going so swell.

Except for the slight fact that blogger, wordpress and others are holding a word verification text box and have now come up with cleverly long and ridiculous word verifications for leaving comments. ( I suspect they put this in place due to the blog party, but this could be a suspicion that is as unfounded as this one)

Top 5 Codes You May Have Encountered

1. The italic disguise, also known as ' sl4gthyx'

Yes, you recognize it here.

But in the word boxes, they don't look that way.

They look like this: rammalammadingdongshadowawawa

So that's what I type in.

And then I am rejected.

But I'm not easily taken out. I go onto the next code, which looks like this:

2. An actual word, also known as victor

There is the odd time where a word verification is an actual word.

Because I have noticed that although it is called 'word verification'--the stuff they dole out to us is not really a word. At least, not in my dictionary or in this one.

Most of the time, they look this:

3. A math equation having a bad hair day, also known as 5tha4ty1

I attempt to type that code in, but I am rejected.

Apparently they didn't want the code, they wanted the answer to this riddle. I forgot the rules of BEDMAS and was therefore given this next code:

4. The almost word, also known as leg5y

Whenever I see these types of word verification I think:

a. Somebody is actually coming up with each individual code and is a lousy speller

b. Somebody is actually coming up with each individual code and is really bored

c. How much would somebody get paid for actually coming up with each individual code?

And then finally, I am confronted with the age-old:

5.Capital Letters Trickster, also known as Jfr5KYlo

I am thrown into a conundrum.

Do I or don't I use capital letters?

What if I do and they reject it?

What if I don't and they reject it?

What if I get rejected...again...by a computer. By a word verification box, no less.

So, I do what any sane blogger who is anxious to get visitors to her blog does.

I type in 'rammalammadingdongshadowawawa'

...and it works!

I am accepted by the word (but not really a 'word') verification box.

I have (potentially) made a new friend.

It can only go up from here, my friends. Right?

Please comment, and when you do, please write your word verification in your comment box to help prove my point.

Flashback Friday: Dear Diary

Welcome to Flashback Friday.
Each Friday I write about something from my past. Sometimes it's meaningful, sometimes it's nonsense. But it all has purpose. Our past moments, however significant, have all been a part of the story of who we are...so why not tell it!
Join me each Friday as I announce a topic and then we write about it and look back to see how far we've come.

I have been spring cleaning and found my old journals.

A journal is like an old friend isn't it? It holds your dreams, your fears, your suspicions--real and imagined, and it helps you understand yourself in a whole new way.

I loved finding my aunt's old journal up in my Grandma's attic. But I was bitterly disappointed to see that the juicy bits were all taken out. Humph!

That is not the case in this attic, my friends.

This is a journal entry on which I commented on numerous times over the years adding a thought here and there.

April 24 1993

It takes a big person to forgive. I am NOT a big person.

Sigh.

Thank you God for helping me to forgive Greg. Only you can help me.

I love You always.

July 20 1994

What did Greg do?

Jan 26 1995

Who cares? I chose to forgive!

March 18 1995

Isn't it crazy how you can laugh at your immaturity. hahahaha!

Dec 31 1995

Looking back on that whole Greg thing--who cares, who really cares?

April 9 2009

Apparently I did. A lot.

How about you? Do you have a memory about your journals? A thought about your blog and how it has become a record of all that you've loved, lost and gained? Link up and tell us about it.

Not Even the Remote Could Have Helped Me This Time

I love my husband.

He is my brain sometimes. Because sometimes I don't make the connection between information and how to put it into practice.

Here's a great example:

My husband noticed that the automatic door lock remote on my key chain wasn't working. He took it to get the battery replaced and then reminded me to make sure I physically locked the doors while on errands.

Right. Got it. Check.

We did several running around errands and each time I fumbled for my keys to unlock the doors I wished I had my remote with me. It made life so simple. I never even gave this convenience a thought until it was gone from me. And now, as I struggled to get my kids to stand still while I unlocked the door, I wished I had been kinder to my remote. The least I could have done was breathed a sigh of thanks every once in a while.

My kids and I had gone on about four errands and arrived at our fifth, when my eldest said, "Mom, let us out! We're here at our friends." I unlocked the doors from the inside and my girls scrambled out while I asked them to shut the door behind them.

I went to the opposite door and got their brother, a bag of goodies for my friend and my bag-of-all-life-contents (diapers and wallet). My little guy must be carried as he doesn't understand the dangers of traffic so with all the bundles, and him in my arms, I manually lock the door. I check to see that I have the keys (I do) and then I shut the door.

I struggle up the walk to my friends home and barely make it to the door before the load I am holding gives way.

It's a lovely day to visit my friend. Her house is being reno'ed so we explore and oohed and ahhed and imagined what it will really look like. Her wonderful kids show me all their latest songs and dances and we make tea for our visit.

Twenty minutes has passed and we sip our tea, exchanging all that we are learning in our marriages and encouraging each other to grow in God's Word.

Then my friend looks out the window.

"Is that your car?"

"Yes. It is."

We both stand up looking out her front window. Our heads tilt to the side hoping that we can make sense of this situation.

For you see, one door...the door my girls went out and were supposed to shut...the door I couldn't see because of the bundles I was carrying...has been left wide open.

For twenty minutes.

TWENTY MINUTES!

I quickly run outside and see that nothing was taken.

It is then that I notice that,yes, I did lock the doors.

Which, as it turns out, is actually of no use unless you shut the door!