You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'Uncategorized' category.
It’s been snowing steadily almost all day. D and P were over the top joyful to have their first snow day of the year. I listened to the warnings on the radio, took one look out the window at all the white blowing around and decided it wasn’t worth it to risk my life to deliver a few newspapers. It was DA’s regular day off so we were one medium sized happy snowed in family today.
The snow let up a bit at different times during the day so I snapped a few pretty pics.
I also snapped a few of the boys though they weren’t too happy about it.
D tried hard to block this one by waving something in front of his face. I thought it made for a cool shot.
D took this one of himself. He’s quite talented.
P looked so cute out there with his Santa hat on. I gave them a tip. I told them to build their fort with snow from the driveway. That way they could get paid for shoveling and have enough snow for a decent addition to their previous fort. D actually was climbing inside this monstrosity before I put a stop to it. There’s a lot of snow above that hole and if it were to come crashing down it would be bye bye D. I can’t believe I still have to tell them stuff like that but every year it’s the same. Boys just seem to think they’re invincible and that nothing will ever happen to them no matter how stupidly they behave. It’s scary sometimes. It’s a good thing they’re trained to obey. They dug more wisely after mom’s motivational speech.
Amazingly, it’s started snowing again. D just informed that the local farmers have gotten to our little dead end road. They do such a good job of digging us out. Different neighbours pay them to clear their driveways but they go above and beyond and do the road too since the plows don’t get here very quickly. Looks like we’ll be back on the routes again tomorrow.
Every now and then you go through something and your eyes are opened in ways that they weren’t before. It happened to me yesterday. The weather conditions were horrible for delivering papers door to door. The wind was gusting at 70 km per hour and when it hit you full in the face you actually had tears streaming down your cheeks. The vast majority of people had not ventured outside and so the driveways and steps leading to their mailboxes had not been cleared. At times, I was wading through knee deep snow to get a paper to a house. The bottoms of my pants froze solidly. Ever walk around with the weight of ice on your pant legs? It’s the weirdest feeling! To say that I had a hard time was an understatement. What was supposed to take me six hours in reality took me seven and a half to do. I didn’t come home tired. I took a shower, got into dry clothes and collapsed into a heap.
What was maddening to me was how little people seemed to care. They wanted their flyers or their crossword puzzle and what did it matter if the paper girl had to risk life and limb to get it to them? Their world was so small that I wasn’t a person at all. I was a delivery system that was expected to work so that they could have some small pleasure, especially on a day where the weather was frightful and they had to stay home. Of all the homes I bravely visited, only one man was kind enough to say, “Please be careful, my driveway is slippery.” I was more than a machine to him; I was a person who could fall and hurt herself.
This got me thinking. How often am I so absorbed with myself and my agenda that I fail to see the people around me? People like cashiers at grocery stores. Do you realize they have the same conversation with thousands of people a day and most of it is gripe about the price of things or how long people have had to wait in line? These people work hard for hours on their feet but they get so little appreciation for their service. They get paid for what they do and the rest of the world assumes that is enough to keep them going. It is but barely. The same goes for the gal at the gas station. We could just press “play” on a tape recorder each time we meet. That’s how predictable and same our “talks” are. I don’t treat these people like people. I treat them like I got treated yesterday – like an automaton who must perform so my little world goes according to schedule.
Today, I called in and told my empoyer I wouldn’t be delivering. It’s snowing hard here, the school buses have been canceled and just down the road from us the police had closed down a section of highway because of white out conditions. Even a snowplow didn’t make it through last night. This is the sort of day you only go out if you absolutely must. The woman on the other end of the line almost went into panic mode and pleaded with me to reconsider; they were already short delivery people. I tried to be calm and explained to her that no one would die if they didn’t get their Friday paper today but that someone might very well end their life if I ventured out on the road in the severe weather watch system that was hitting our neck of the woods. A few papers wasn’t worth risking life and limb for in my opinion. Again, I felt that what was most important was that the machine worked flawlessly and efficiently, not my safety as a human being. I just can’t justify driving today so that a few people will have their crossword to do.
Having seen this, I’ve decided that I need to be part of the solution instead of remaining part of the problem. I’m going to try and engage the gal at the gas station in conversation the next time I go. I’m not going to revert to automatic like I normally do. Maybe I’ll offer to buy her a coffee since she stands by a door that opens and closes often letting in a blast of cold air. In other words, I’ll try to treat her like she’s a person and not just someone who has to service yet another unappreciative person. Ditto for the cashiers. I’m not going to complain. I’m going to go out of my way to be kind to them. It’s nutty in most stores this time of year and most of them are run off their feet. And for what? Usually, a lot of unhappy people.
I started my change of attitude yesterday. I went off the road and got stuck in the snow at one point (it was nothing major by the way) and had to call CAA to get me out. It was the same guy who had towed me just a few days ago. Despite the horrid weather he was working in, he was cheery and did a good job getting me out in record time. He would have just driven off to his next call had I not run back to profusely thank him for doing his job. I quickly ended with “I hope I don’t see you again for a l-o-n-g time.” He laughed and said, “No problem, dearie. Take it easy.” I pay for CAA but I didn’t want to treat this fella like it was his duty to help me out. I wanted to treat him like a person and let him know that I was grateful that he was out when so many other people weren’t.
I can’t say I was glad to deliver yesterday but I can say that I’m glad for the eye-opener. People are so much more important than my little schedule and my little two-by-four world. I really need to get things in proper perspective and be more compassionate and understanding. The few times people have shown care for me while delivering, it’s really touched me. Imagine how much better the world would be if we could all step outside of ourselves more than we do and think about others and what they might be going through. It certainly would have made yesterday better for me. I hope to make it better for someone today and tomorrow and the day after that…
D and P came home from school yesterday and popped inside just long enough to drop their book bags and yell, “We’re home!”. With the snow finally here, they couldn’t wait to get outside and start building a fort.
I think you could have offered me buckets of money and I still wouldn’t have gone and played in the snow. Delivering in it was enough for me. My muscles feel like I scaled Mt. Everest and I’ve already had enough of the cold.
I had my fun later in the evening. I met up with a girlfriend and the two of us took in our first ballet, “The Nutcracker”, at the Orillia Opera House. How nice to sit in a warm building, listening to classical music, while watching pros do what I could never do, dance with grace and beauty. The show finished a little earlier than we anticipated but we decided to continue the fun. We walked over to a nearby restaurant and gorged ourselves on BIG desserts. That’s fun my style!
I got up with the sun this morning to see the freshly fallen snow in all its unspoiled beauty. Well, actually I got up to get the last of the garbage out before the garbage truck rounded the corner and was pleasantly surprised by the freshly fallen snow in all its unspoiled beauty.
As you can tell, there wasn’t a lot of it – just enough to leave footprints in.
This picture made me smile. I like to think of it as the Canadian version of that famous footprints poem. I don’t know anyone whose life is like a walk along a beach. I can think of a few whose path is more like trudging through the snow though. I guess in this picture I was being carried (if Jesus wears size 7 Sorels, that is).
I’m both fascinated by and repulsed with Christmas as I know it in my culture. The artist/decorator in me oohs and aahs over the sparkle and the glamour of all those shiny ornaments lining aisle after aisle in practically every store out there. I have to confess that I’ve already gone to Leons to check out how they did their tree and tablesettings this year. There is someone very talented working at that establishment and I’m drawn like a bee to honey to their artistry. I’ve also checked out Martha Stewart, that maven of all things beautiful, to see if she had any fresh offerings online for the upcoming season. I’m not looking to buy. I’m looking because I like to look at pretty things.
Pretty things cost money. If I purchased even half of the things that catch my breath I’d be rather poor by now. This is one of the things about Christmas that repulses me. The expectation is that you’ll spend, spend, spend with reckless abandon on things that you don’t really need and on gifts that your loved ones don’t really want. I totally believe in living my wage. I also wonder if buying baubles and trim to deck the halls is the best use of the money I’ve been entrusted with. The price I’d pay for a modest wreath could feed a child in and impoverished country for over a month after all. I know because I’ve been perusing those gift catalogs.
So, on the one hand I really want to decorate for the season and on the other hand I don’t because I feel that my time and resources could be better spent elsewhere. What to do? Talk to my Heavenly Father about it, that’s what.
There are times I bring things before God and clearly get an answer. Then there are those times where I present my questions and there is nothing but silence. I can’t say that God clearly told me which hand to go with on this one. What I did consider were my own children. Sometimes I have clear instructions and expectations of D and P. Other times I don’t and the boys being boys naturally go off and play. They are unique individuals, my children. Play for my eldest son usually involves something scientific. He watches science programs on TV, researches science related stuff on the internet and conducts experiments in the name of science whenever he has spare time. I don’t like the garbage trail he leaves in his wake but I must say that I do enjoy D being D. When it comes to his science projects, there’s a twinkle in his eyes, a quickness to his step and an enthusiasm in his voice. It’s obvious he’s in his element and I can’t help but smile. P, on the other hand, likes sports in his spare time. I can often hear him pleading with his brother to go outside with him to bump a volleyball, kick a soccer ball, play hockey or shoot some baskets. He comes in panting from exhaustion after playing, his cheeks apple red and his smile stretching from ear to ear. It brings joy to me to see him so enjoying himself.
I wonder if God enjoys seeing me play. I’m not a science or sports type of gal. Play for me is a walk in the woods with my camera along. Second to that is decorating. No one has to tell me to rearrange furniture, to try putting this throw over there, to hold up that picture against that wall to see how it will look. Like D naturally gravitates towards science and P to sports, I’m drawn to making things pretty. I like to think that God can relate. One of the most wonderful things about walking in the big, wide world is taking in God’s masterpieces. He’s a colour expert, the master at texture and His handiwork is more than just visual; it’s a feast for all the senses. Like me, He’s always changing things. We’re now fully into Autumn where God goes monochromatic. Pretty much everything turns some shade of brown this time of year. Soon winter will come where God will show us the beauty of white and what He can do with light and shadow as a medium. He’s an artist too.
Since I’m not getting any clear instructions regarding Christmas, I’ve decided I’m going to play. I’ll pull out what I already have in the way of decorations and have some fun with that and maybe even purchase a few of those shiny things that so catch my eye. Whatever I spend for myself, I’ll be sure to at least double for those who haven’t been as blessed as I’ve been this year. I hope that my Heavenly Father will see me having fun and that He’ll smile that his daughter is so enjoying herself. I’m not sure Christmas is so much about right and wrong. I think it’s a lot more about bringing joy to my Heavenly Father. I can’t help but think that He’ll be pleased with me being just silly old me.
For many years, I bought or received candles and used them to decorate my home but never lit them. It’s kind of silly. Candles are designed to be lit. Their purpose is to shine.
I’m now starting to light some of those candles and am enjoying watching them do what they were made to do. They eventually burn out but they give me such pleasure before they do.
It made me think of myself. I too am designed to shine and when I do I give my Maker great pleasure. This red candle only blessed me with it’s spectacular melting patterns but what a show! My little light may not bless many but maybe if it blesses even one it’s worth it.
This candle was most beautiful when it got dark. Those rays of light are what made me want to take pictures of it. So too when circumstances are darkest, the light of Christ within is most evidently beautiful. It’s in those dark times that people take notice and look with wonder. Or at least they should. Shine, Jesus, shine.
Halloween is not my favourite time of year. I let the boys go out last year because my husband came on board and convinced me it was just for fun. Of course, D and P loved it.
This year, they weren’t sure they were going to go out or not. It really depended on what their school friends were doing. Seems to me that their school friends weren’t terribly decisive either because, though I kept asking, I never got clear answers.
Just this morning P decided he wasn’t going to go. He’d stay home with D (who had already decided he was too old for trick or treating). Well, his friend called late this afternoon and suddenly P was going out and needed a costume. He needed one fast. He wanted to be a zombie because that would be easy. Easy for who I don’t know. I pulled out last year’s vampire make-up and blood, looked to the internet for some inspiration and did the best I could.
I’m no make-up artist and five minutes isn’t a whole lot of time to do something amazing. Fortunately, my son is easy to please.
I was transported back in time today to my second year at university. I was living off campus with a few friends about a forty-five minute walk from school. I did that walk faithfully five days a week in all kinds of weather. I can remember many a class where I took notes soaking wet, a steady puddle of water pooling beside my seat as forty-five minutes worth of rain or snow tried to escape my clothing. What most amazed me about that year was that I didn’t get sick once. Up until then, I was prone to cold after cold, followed by sinus infections and usually an annual flu. My room mates and I pretty much lived on canned soup and white bread (the cheapest kind), so I can’t really say that my incredibly healthy diet strengthened me. I think I became heartier that year having to do that forty-five minute trudge twice a day, day in and day out, in all kinds of weather.
I thought about that today because I delivered a lot of newspapers in not so nice weather. For the last few routes I was wet, very wet. I could have gotten all upset about it but what good would that have done? Instead, I thought back to that extremely healthy year I had and all the healthy years I’ve had since then. Being outside, braving the elements, getting exercise, it’s done me good. I’m stronger than I used to be. The thought didn’t quite get me singing in the rain but it did help me to push on and push through and get the job done.
Trials don’t have to bring me down. With the right attitude they can make me better than I was before. I need to exercise this way of thinking. Today it rained. Tomorrow it might snow.
It’s DA’s birthday tomorrow. Since he works on Saturdays, we decided to celebrate it today on his day off. My contribution to the celebration was to make a cake. I had in mind a cake I wanted to TRY to make but I wasn’t too sure I wanted to share my creation with the rest of DA’s family. Check it out. I found this cake tin at a garage sale this past summer for change:
DA and I grew up watching Sesame Street and we often laugh at how much DA resembles Bert. We’ve watched a few early clips of the show and chuckled because Bert does things the way DA would. When I saw the Bert and Ernie tin up for sale, I knew I had to snatch it for his birthday. Making the cake was simple, decorating it was anything but.
I don’t think I’ll become a cake decorator anytime soon. Poor Ernie and Bert! They both look like they have major skin problems. Then there are Ernie’s lips. I tried to outline them using a red Scribbler and the red totally ran. Ernie looked like he was trying out to play the part of the Joker on Batman. Though I can’t say this cake was a smashing success artistically, I can say that I laughed a lot trying to ice it and that DA loved it.
Here’s a blurry image of the birthday boy (my camera couldn’t handle the low light) holding the gift the boys handpicked for him. DA likes his beer so they thought a big beer bottle shaped coin bank with some beer money already in it would make a great gift. DA loved that too.
I got him a good pair of walking shoes so he can hike off all the cake we ate and all the beer he will drink. Happy Birthday DA!
I’m artsy. Presentation matters to me. I like things to look good. I work hard to make things beautiful. I labour long to keep things beautiful. Whatever gene I have that makes me this way was not passed on to my sons. They honestly don’t understand my desire for cleanliness and beauty. To them I sound like a broken record, always telling them to put things away. “Who really cares if the room isn’t perfect?” they wonder out loud. “Why can’t you care more about presentation knowing it matters so much to me?” I respond. We just can’t seem to sing in harmony on this one. I don’t know if the boys would label me as a clean freak. I am trying to make our relationship more important than the state of various rooms in our home. I think they’d more likely call me excessive.
Today, P asked me to help him on a school project. I love projects. The difference between a good project and a great one is presentation and presentation is where I shine. As soon as P told me about his project, ideas started popping into my head and out of my mouth. Before you knew it, I was looking things up on the computer and printing things off and showing my idea of how they could be put on the project board and…well…doing P’s project. P got quiet and gave me that look. He isn’t particularly interested in producing a great project. He’s not even that interested in making a good project. He’s shooting for good enough.
I hung my head, apologized and backed off. It’s hard for me. I know that left to himself P will put together a mediocre project. He won’t try to make it beautiful or colour coordinated or even particularly neat. He’ll try to make it look like every other boy’s project in his class. It’s his project and I have to let him do it himself even if it isn’t done to the standard that I would like it to be. I have to accept that not everyone is keen about making things the best they can be like I am. I have to let my boys get a B or a C though I know the way to get an A. They’ve told me again and again to not take over and to let them be who they are. It’s their broken record song. It’s the one thing I find hard to pick up.
