Missing the Lake

Today was a GORGEOUS day. Well at least that is what I was told. I missed it. I guess I did feel it for a moment when I took the garbage out to the bin. I have been pretty much stuck inside with sick little Sam. Who yes, is still sick. I really wish I could have been outside today. The wind is now picking up, and I can hear the waves crashing from inside my house. I love that. I LOVE listening to the water. I miss the lake. Come to think of it...I missed the lake. Have I mentioned that I live by the lake? Apparently I do. Not that I would know from personal time spent near its waters. I missed it. The summer went by, and I missed it. I was a little too busy fumbling through my adjustment to motherhood to really enjoy the full benefits of lake life. I was also to busy to post about living at the lake, so I will do that now. In honor of this gorgeous day, I would like to present to you my life by the lake. Or, the life I would have had, had I not missed it.

Seven minutes from my front door, through a lovely wooded path...

You will find a staircase...

Which leads to this little patch of tranquility...

Complete with rocks to sit on, privacy to enjoy, and water as far as the eye can see.

It even comes with its own beach babes...

Ahhh if only I could turn back time. Who wants to join me next summer for a loungy day at the lake? I don't intend to miss it again.

I am too tired to come up with a great title.

Oh goodness. Is it already the 20th? Does anyone else think that this month is going by really fast?

Let’s see…what can I talk about today? Sam is still sick. Harv is still sick. I am still tired.

What to write? What to write? *Looks around the room hoping for inspiration. How about my office? I am so lucky. I have this wonderful office/craft room that most would kill for. I painted it this amazing, inspiring shade of purple. It is a great room. Well…it is GOING to be a great room. The problem is this…

Actually, I see two things wrong with this picture. I see piles of unpacked STUFF that needs a home. And I see a little Sam who is about to start crawling and tearing into all of it!!! It is a child protective custody case just waiting to happen. It’s like a minefield of everything those parenting magazines warn you to deal with before the crawling starts. The clock is ticking.

What to do, what to do.

I think the mess is multiplying. For every pile I declutter, one more seems to pop up. This has become the “throw it in my office” room whenever we are cleaning the house and do not know where to put things. I am a little afraid that the people from those clutter shows like "Hoarders" are secretly peering through my windows scoping out their next story.

At least now with Sam sick, I may have bought myself a few extra sorting days. See, every black cloud has a silver lining. And now back to work.

Bits and Pieces

It’s been a busy weekend with not a lot of extra time for posting. Obviously the NaBloPoMo people didn’t take busy weekends into consideration before throwing out this challenge to the world. And obviously I didn’t quite think through the ramifications of how this daily posting would actually take place before I accepted this crazy challenge. But on we pursue.

Harv had a conference this weekend, leaving me the single parent of a baby who has decided he doesn’t like to sleep. Maybe it is because he turned 8 months old yesterday and feels he is too old for napping. There is just too much to do, between exploring his world, putting foreign objects in his mouth and trying to learn how to crawl.

My dearest friend Tia came for the weekend. There was a LOT of childcare going on, but in between we managed to find time for talking and crafting and puzzling, etc. I kept telling her that we made it through the continuous busy care of her young babies and that we would make it through mine. We did manage to pull off a fabulous craft that I spied in a magazine. Here is my art work...

I love it. It looks fabulous (if I do say so myself) and it combines two of my favorite things – color and paper. Look what kind of art you can create with bits and pieces of paper. Once I get my office organized I am going to hang it up to inspire myself to keep creating.

Well, I guess that is all for today.

Except for this...my baby has now had chicken!! Woohoo!!

The Stressful Bliss of Free Time

6 hours of free time. That is what I have. 6 hours to do whatever I please. Harv has taken Sam into the city to visit Grandpa and Grandma, leaving me with 6 hours to myself. 6 hours alone in my house. 6 hours alone with my thoughts - something that has not happened in more than 4 months. Not since the little one came in and disrupted our lives in such a pleasing, yet time consuming manner. Oh the bliss.

Being the freakishly unrealistic list writer that I am, I immediately came up with a list of more than 20 things that I needed to do, wanted to do, or just thought would be fulfilling to my inner psyche. Work on my baby book, work on my thank-you cards, paint my toenails, drive into town for some without-baby perusing, reading, organizing my office, writing in my blog, finding out if I still had a blog that people read, writing some letters, making some phone calls, having a nice long nap, having a shower without having to talk in sing-songy voice to the little one sitting outside the shower curtain, watching TV, napping again and the list went on as the thoughts and ideas flowed. As the list got longer and longer, the little prickles of stress became more and more prevalent, overtaking the bliss.

Harv, upon seeing the list, and knowing my freakishly unrealistic nature of wanting to accomplish EVERYTHING on that list, kindly offered to dispose of it. He instructed that the only thing I needed to do today was to sit and twiddle my thumbs in a restful and rejuvenating manner. (Thank you honey for even providing a physical demonstration of thumb twiddling, as I had forgotten.)

So here I am…resisting the urge of my inner to-do and embracing the bliss of the whatever. I had a great long shower (and even shaved my legs!!), I have revisited the joy of blogging – which I had forgotten about. And now I am off to do…whatever. Anything and everything. Or nothing…whatever I want. Oh the bliss.

Big Mama Comes to Help the Little Mama

Ahh ha ha. That title kills me. Considering the slight stature of my mama and the not so slight stature of…well, never mind… It just makes me laugh. Hahahaha. Sometimes I just crack myself up. Sigh

ANYWAYS…My mom came out to visit last week. It was so great to have her here, and I wish that we could have kept her longer. My head is spinning with all we got done. Well…all she got done. I'm all pregnant and tired y’know. I am not that productive these days. Thus the reason she came.

My mother, bless her heart, is like the energizer bunny. She came in a whirlwind and left me with a cleaned up yard - ready and prepared for winter, gleaming floors all washed and waxed, shining clean windows, inside and out, a spotless bathroom, dish free counters, and much less cat hair floating around than when she came. We also managed to make a large batch of salsa that almost borders on obsessive, but hey, you can never have too much salsa and it really makes me happy looking at all those pretty red jars. On top of everything, we boiled up a chicken and made 3 pails of chicken broth that are waiting in my freezer for any day I feel like mom’s chicken noodle soup! All that, and we even made time for naps.

I wish that she could just move in until the baby comes. Well, maybe until the baby is a year. I know Dad would miss her. But we could give him visitation rights. And if he really puts up a fight, I may even throw in a jar of salsa to sweeten the deal. Just think about it Mom...I know you want to.

Let's NOT Give Them Somethin' to Talk About...

Have I ever mentioned how great my neighbors are? They are GREAT. Well, great in the sense that they are never home. They are two bachelors with out of town jobs that bring them home approx every third weekend. It’s an arrangement that has some definite advantages given our particular house situation.

You may wonder what difference it makes to my life whether they are home or not. And before you go labeling me as some nosy old bitty who is far too aware of what her neighbor is up to, let me assure you that this is not the case. In fact, it is my obsessive need for privacy that makes me so aware of the schedule of two bachelors.

Here lies the problem – my neighbors deck is almost directly across, and the exact height of my kitchen window. So if I am in my kitchen, and the gang is on their deck, then we are staring right at each other. And this seems to happen often, because when they are home, they are on the deck. Seriously…all day on the deck. ALL DAY. From sun up to sun down. I am not too fond of this arrangement. I have a high need for privacy in my home. And I feel like they are watching me. I do question why I have never bothered to put up curtains as I avoid my kitchen as much as possible on these weekends – but being the main cook in the house, I have to go in there eventually. And when I do…there they are – looking at me, thinking that I am looking at them. I have no desire to be looking at them. Sigh.

This weekend I felt like I just had enough. After 3 years of living in this house I finally lost it, and tacked up a piece of fabric to hide behind. It’s not permanent. It’s not pretty. But I know it will only be there for as long as the long weekend takes, and Tuesday morning when they will be gone once again, so will the fabric shield. And hopefully so will my irritation.

This little diatribe leads me to two important pondering questions. First of all – why is this bothering me? After 3 years of them nodding at me from their deck while they observe me wash my dirty dishes, why all of a sudden the need for some sort of protective shield? Most people become more relaxed as they age and mature. Is it possible that I become more neurotic as the sands of my life slip through the hour glass? I fear this may be the case. I feel I may be regressing, rather than progressing.

The other thing, and possible more intriguing to me is this…WHAT do they talk about for so long? I can't even wrap my mind around it. What on earth are they discussing? And how long can they discuss it for? I have never in my life seen anyone sit for such long periods of time. Just sit. I have to say, I don’t think that there is ANYONE that I would want to just sit and talk with for that many hours. I am good for maybe 3 hours…but then I need to throw in an activity. Could it be that I just haven’t found the right conversation partners? Could it be that these gentlemen are far more interesting than anyone that I may have encountered in my lifetime? Could it be the free flowing beer that accompanies the chatting - is that the secret? Maybe I should go see what these guys are talking about that is of such interest. Hmmm... maybe they are talking about me? Maybe my kitchen routines and old sheep pajamas spark the conversation that keeps on going...and going. Do you think? Well, if that's the case, maybe I should tame down my kitchen antics...look a little less enthused as I wash those dishes. Maybe cook with a little less flare.

Maybe the curtain was the answer to the problem all along! Lets see if this fabric puts the kibosh on the lengthy deck gazing. We'll see if this little curtain experiment gives them something NOT to talk about.

Bye Bye You Big Lug...

Today is a good day.

It is the day that I have been waiting for. If any of you know anything about renovations, or share my addiction to Home and Garden Television, then you will know that a major revamp takes a major amount of time. It always takes longer than you think. This has been a hard pill for me to swallow, as I am a “finish it all until perfection or don’t do it at all” sort of girl. I have been known to stay up until the wee hours of the morning tweaking things in my house to get them just as I want them. My dream would be to have a complete overhaul in my kitchen, transforming cupboards to baseboards, appliances to tea towels in the span of a single weekend. But this is not the case in my kitchen. Because I do not live in the magical world of HGTV I cannot fast forward all the steps it takes to get to the big reveal. It is a slow, piece by piece process.

Over a month ago I mentioned that we were getting a new countertop installed. Believe it or not, it is only today that the dreaded “oopps” is being fixed. It has been a test of my patience, as I have lovingly wiped only half a new counter.

Through the month I have had time to think. Something strange happens when you are mid project and have a contractor on the payroll. (*note: ok, he is not actually a contractor, but rather just a guy we found behind the counter at the lumber store…but we LOVE him. And I am calling him a contractor so that he can dream big…) The strange thing is that you begin to dream all sorts of funny dreams…dreams of “I could do this.” or “Maybe we could do that.” and “Since we have to do this, we might as well do that.” All of a sudden we have gone from a simple counter top to moving cupboards and putting up backsplashes and the Grand Poobah of all my big dreams…installing our portable dishwasher.

And thus brings me to my good day. Though I love my dishwasher, it has led me to understand fully the expression that every rose has a thorn, as every other day I lug that bad boy across my floor to hook up water and electrical for it to do its job. And when I say lug, I mean LUG. It is an unattractive sort of grunting shimmy that takes place as I push and shove this beastly contraption into place. So as I write, I hear the soothing sounds of hammers and saws lulling me with their sweet whisper of “Girl, you have lugged your last.” It is a beautiful thing. No more little dance of shove and shake. No more hooking up water and cord. No more being unable to use the sink while the dishwasher is washing. Seriously, this is what kitchen utopia must feel like. Throw in a garberator and I would think I have died and gone to heaven…

Or maybe just think it’s a really, really good day.

The Joyful Anxiety of Kitchen Renovations

There’s a lot of excitement happening in our household today. It’s a nervous excitement. The kind that makes your stomach all flippy, and you are not sure whether you want to do a dance of joy, or head to the bathroom and throw up. As I write, we are getting a new kitchen countertop installed. After a month of second guessing myself and my choice, it is finally here. And it is looking good. It was a good choice. I am so relieved.

We did have a little glitch a moment ago when I heard the dreaded words “Um….we have a problem.” They measured one of the pieces wrong, and now I will only have HALF a new countertop until next week. DRAT. So I guess the dance of joy will be postponed for a few more days. Sigh.

Our old countertop is sitting forlornly in the snow after being unceremoniously dumped without feeling or remorse. I commented to Harv that it looked even uglier in the sunlight than it did in the house. Oh how quickly our loyalties can change. Out with the old and in with the new. They are also putting in a shiny new sink and faucet. It is a good day. Glitch and all, it is a good day. I think to celebrate, I will stay home tonight and just wipe my new counter. Good times.

Happy Little Homebody

Yesterday Becky called me a homebody. Would some of you find that insulting? I just found it delightful (and I know she knew I would). Yes, I am a homebody. There is nothing that excites me more than a day at home with no plans. My mother was like this. And I am happy to inherit the genes. Today I am at home. Nothing short of a house fire is going to get me to leave this house today. I am snug as a bug in a rug.

I love being at home. I love having the day before me to putter and clean and do projects and catch up on my computer time. I love not doing my hair, and walking around in “home clothes”. It is a mix of satisfaction and increased adrenalin that someone may just pop in and catch me in this unfashionly state. On home days I feel free. I can decide what I will do with my time. I can decide whether or not I will answer the phone. I can decide whether or not I will answer the door, or slide on my belly across the floor, hoping that no one saw me through the window. OK…I don’t actually DO that. And I don’t usually let the phone ring either, but there is some thing about home days that make me feel like I could do those things if I wanted to.

I wish I could be home everyday. Sometimes that attitude concerns my hubby who states constantly that it would drive him crazy to be at home all day. Maybe that is why he drags me out so much. Or maybe it’s because of his job. Either way, I take these home days when I can get them, and soak in every precious minute. So today I am celebrating home days. And you can celebrate them with me. After all, if it wasn’t for these home days, I may never get to write in this blog.

And then what would you read on your home days?

New Appeal to an Old Curb: Part II

So with all these upgrades happening on the outside of my house, and all this talk of transformation, I have gotten to thinking. I have been thinking about transformation. I have been thinking about how things change. These thoughts have been percolating as I have watched how quickly two men could transform my house from something blah to something warm and beautiful. It has made me wonder how some things can change so quickly and so easily, and other things seem so unchanging, no matter now hard you try. Oh dear...do you feel a life lesson coming on here?

If only it was so easy in life. If only life was such that one morning you would wake to find someone busy scraping away the rough spots of your life before pulling out the brush to whip you into a wonderfully transformed work of art. Why is it that life takes so long to bring about transformation? I feel like there are areas of my life that I have been "working on" for as long as I can remember, but it seems that no matter how hard I "work", there is no wondrous overnight transformation. There is no waking up one morning to a terrific surprise and a vision of beauty. And there is certainly no insurance to pay for all it takes to get me there.

I am not talking about a physical transformation (though lets face it, I think we all could use a new paint job every once in a while). I am talking about my heart and about my character. Why can't it be easy? Why can't I wake up with more love to give in my heart, more passion for God, and more patience and compassion for others? Why can't I wake to find those irritating little quirks that I keep stubbing my toe on would suddenly give way to smoother paths? And why can't someone else do the work of bringing those qualities alive in me, while I sit with my feet up, cold drink in hand?

Yes, I know that we are not alone in the transformation process. I know that the Holy Spirit is there smoothing out the rough places and shining up the dull areas, completing the good work that He started. I do know that. I just sometimes wish that it wouldn't take so long for this particular process to hit completion. I wish that I could step outside myself one day and be absolutely delighted about how things were looking, and how far along I was in the process. I am looking for some instant curb appeal -some new curb appeal for an old soul.

So I really don't have any answers here, but maybe this is where trust comes in. Trust that God is indeed working. Trust that one day He who began that good work in me will reveal something more beautiful than I even expected. Trust that in His timing it will all be revealed.

And maybe we are allowed to see these little transformations in our everyday surroundings (like a new look to an old house) to remind us that the Builder is still building, and the Great Designer is still designing. And in the meantime, I am happy at least one curb is looking all spiffy and beautiful. And one curb is enough for now.

New Appeal to an Old Curb

Oh it's a happy time here in this little household. The painters finished last night and we are VERY pleased. I keep going back and forth from extreme delight and self satisfaction to absolute relief. The house feels warm and inviting, and Harv and I have decided that we now have the nicest house on the block! Add all this color pizazz to the new roof (put on this month) and the new flower bed that my Dad helped us build, and we finally have that much coveted curb appeal. I really didn't think that much about curb appeal, that is until someone graciously pointed out that I had none. So to go from zero to complete beauty in a short month...well...it's a little much to take. But I am pleased. Here are some before and after shots.

BEFORE

(that's me at our garage sale last week...

which is another story, for another time...)

AFTER

Doesn't it just make you want to come over for a BBQ?! Well, what are you waiting for?

Happiness is...

...sitting with your feet up while 2 strange men paint your entire house, garage, shed, and back fence. Oh, and insurance pays for it. Life is good.

Decisions, Decisions...

I'm stressed. I just got back from vacation and I am stressed. It's not good people. Alot of big decisions going on in this household these days. And those of you who know me well know that I am not good with decisions. NOT. GOOD. We are choosing colors for our roof, siding paint, trim, cement stairs, and all that stuff. It is extreme makeover at it's finest. Or at least at the only level that I may ever know. It's a total turn around in current curb appeal. Thanks to that hail last year that wiped out our yard, Insurance has insured us a new look for the spring. Oh, don't get me wrong...it is exciting. It is thrilling in a way that mere words cannot describe. This very well could be the only time in my life that I get a complete new look for the house at one time. But do you know the pressure that I am under right now?

Where is Martha and her fabulouso color palette when you need her? I have been looking around at A LOT of houses since last fall. There are many amazing color combinations. There are also a few combinations that I can only describe as "ooooops". I can't have an "ooooops" moment here. What are the chances of getting this once in a lifetime freebie done again in a few weeks if the colors we choose turn into an "oooppps"?! Any hail in the forecast?

I am attracted to bold colors, dark colors, colors that you would see in Nova Scotia, or in some areas in BC. But these are not Yorkton colors. Not in the slightest. I am surrounded by whites and shades of blue gray. And I need to consider resale right? I would like to do it a mossy sort of green, but Harv refuses to live in a "mold house" as he so affectionately calls my color choices. Hmmmphh.

Yes, so my mind is in a bit of a whirl wind right now. And to top it off, we are thinking of changing our TV provider. And I don't do change very well. I am as good with change as I am with decisions.

I think I need to go lie down. But where...on the couch, or on the bed? I can't decide.

I need help. Seriously.

Best Little Non-Coffee Shop in Town

For someone who hates coffee, I certainly “go for coffee” a lot in this town. Being the pastor’s wife, it seems that there is never a shortage of people who are ready and willing (and some expecting) to “do coffee” with me. On a regular basis I find myself, bottled water in hand, staring across from someone drinking deeply from the amber brew. After almost 4 years of coffee dates, I am getting to know the establishments of this town.

I know that the Ice Cream Cabin is a well known coffee stop. It has great lunches. You can get a healthy pita for only $4.00. The food is excellent, but the space is cramped, and if you are lucky enough to get a seat, it is hard and uncomfortable for any extended visiting. You can also expect that because of the size of the "cabin" the entire population of the room will be in on any conversation you have whether you would like to include them or not.

I know that the local Tim Horton’s serves great coffee (the best in town some say…I wouldn’t know), and the Tim Bits are yummy, but it is crowded - always crowded, and the many seniors that frequent the establishment seem to have a staring problem that makes me a little uncomfortable. It is probably my least favorite place to meet for coffee dates.

Robin’s is better. It’s a little quieter for in-depth conversation, and they serve great hot chocolate. But the seats are hard, and the last time I was there I nearly froze to death.

Boston Pizza is by far my favorite. The booths are cozy and comfortable for extended time periods. I have had my best conversations there hands down. In the afternoons it is slow and quiet. The relaxed atmosphere and bottomless drinks are great for lulling people into a comfortable state of “baring all inner thoughts and percolations”. Add the Chocolate Explosion, and it's the perfect coffee date for a non-coffee-er such as myself.

But last week I discovered the most wondrous establishment of them all. It is Yorkton’s best kept secret: an unexpected place of cozy contentment…right in my very own home. I served a church friend hot chocolate steaming in my new winter mugs, and we settled into our comfy couches and talked and shared to our heart's content. The temperature was perfect. No seniors were staring. No bystanders were getting the goods on my personal life. Best of all, there was no bill to pay at the end of the conversation. The hours flew by. It was great. “Chez Shirley” is a definite repeat and open for business, so come on down and let’s “do coffee” sometime!

The Hoarder's Helpless Holler Part 2

So today I was looking around the blog world and came across a little blast from the past on Melissa's site. This officially proves my point that we should never throw anything away. You never know when something might come in handy. Good thing I saw this...just think how many precious things might have bit the dust all in the name of paring down. Phew...that was a close one.

The Hoarder's Helpless Holler

Oh mercy. I just saw a little segment on Dr. Phil about a woman hoarder. She kept everything from empty pill bottles to old toothpaste tubes. She was unable to throw anything away. I immediately headed downstairs in a fearful frenzy to start in on our storage/junk room. It’s a disaster. We haven’t needed anything from that room in the past year, and yet I could hardly throw anything away. Well, anything except for the goopy, used laundry detergent cup and the way past due vitamin bottle. I found an old, old magazine, and instead of throwing it out, I brought it upstairs in case I wanted to read it! JUST LIKE THE WOMAN ON THE SHOW!! I think it’s too late. I am beyond help. Before I know it Harv will be dragging me off to Dr. Phil (that is if he can find me amidst all the clutter). It will be me, Dr. Phil, and the Cat-lady – the crazy lady with 200 pet cats. I can just see it now.

Keeping the Home Fires Burning

Glorious, glorious, what a glorious day. I am having a do-as-I-please sort of day. There are no appointments, and no errands to be run and no coffee dates. Harv is going to a hockey game this evening, and so the glory continues. I have been resisting my natural impulses to fill this day with the 800 things on my “to do” list, in the manner of unrealistic dreaming that I usually partake in. Can you believe that I have made NO LIST? That is so unlike me. But it is good. I am puttering around cleaning my house, there is a pot of homemade soup simmering on the stove, and finally, FINALLY, I am taking the time to organize my office. This is something I have wanted to do for so long, and nothing is going to deter me from this goal. It would take a fire, flood, or some sort of other natural disaster to get me out of this house today. Seriously... house would have to burn down around my feet before I left it.

I think that I take after my mother. My mom was always very content to have home days. I for one love it. I have been trying in the last year to be more purposeful in slowing down, and not filling every single day, and every single evening. When we first started pastoring I felt guilty if I was ever home for an evening. There were always people that we “should” be visiting. I don’t know how long anyone can last at that driven pace. There is always something knocking on the door trying to steal away our time, our rest and our solitude, or our home time. I am trying to not answer that door quite so frequently. This is not easy…especially when you are in the occupation that Harv and I have chosen. But I can see over the last year as I have been working on this, that I am more at peace, and well let’s face it, I’m not so snarly on the days or nights that we do have to go out.

Life will always find things for us to do. There will always be urgencies to attend to. Really, I don’t think that God intended us to live the kind of chicken-with-our-head-cut-off sort of existence. I think that He desires for us to find a balance. That is what I am trying to find. I think that it's going to take a whole lifetime of learning to finally come up with a proper balance between racing and rest. I hope that someday I will discover it, but for today, I am setting it all aside and am having a home day. I am loving it, and nothing is going to take me away from it.

By the way, is it wrong if I smell smoke but choose to ignore it?

Shirley Ingalls Wilder??

Saturday night. The house is clean and sparkly. The Christmas tree is lit. Harv is watching Hockey night in Canada and making the appropriate hockey noises. The ooohhs and yeses that bring me back to my childhood and the days when we kids would be tucked into bed falling asleep to the emphatic declarations of “he scores” from my dad in the family room. Abby is sleeping under the bed. I am sitting down at my keyboard to write. All is right in my little world.

I am really quite easy to please y’know. Well at least today anyways. I think that I would have fit in really well in days of old. Back in the days when life moved a lot slower and things felt simple, and less intense. I could picture myself in a Little House on the Prairie sort of life. A Saturday night, with some logs on the fire and a lantern by my side. I would be in my rocking chair working on my needle work while Harv would be playing some sort of instrument by my side. Or maybe he would be reading out loud. Everything would be peaceful. The hay bed mattress would be restuffed and fluffed and ready for sleeping. The water would be heating by the fire for the weekly bath in the portable tub. The scent of lye soap would be strong in the air. The venison stew would be simmering on the wood stove, with biscuits and apple butter cooling on the table. And then after my needle work was done and the socks had been mended, and all was ready for the Sabbath, I would boot up my computer and check to see if anyone had commented on my blog...

Give Me One for the Underdog...

Today Harv and I went out for a walk and the weather was absolutely gorgeous. What a beautiful day – the kind that makes your heart happy. But as we walked we stumbled across something that filled my heart with more jubilation than even the weather. Someone was out there putting up Christmas lights! My heart did a little leap. OK – it was more than a little leap – I was filled with great levels of glad tidings and joy and immediately started singing “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…” I am a bit of a Christmas NUT. Our house turns into a winter wonderland of snowman, nativity’s, trees, candles and other Christmas paraphernalia. Seeing that November is right around the corner, I will soon be itching to start decorating. Harv usually makes me wait until after the Grey Cup. I don’t know why, but we all have our traditions that we follow religiously. I don’t remember discussing this during the pre-marriage counselling, but I am starting to think that it should be listed right up there with spending habits and visitation rights of in-laws. But back to Christmas… I admit that I have already bought two Christmas magazines, and perused through many others in the Superstore grocery line up. It really is the most wonderful time of the year.

Even in my anticipation, I find myself percolating on a few things that have come to my attention lately. First of all I ran into someone lately that said she didn’t LIKE Christmas. She didn’t like it at all. I tried to hide my shock and awe, and not startle her too much with my wide eyed wonder and emphatic – “WHAT?!?!?” She said that it was too commercialized. Yes, I have heard that before. Then, on the same weekend I read a book title that caused me to ponder further. The title was Can Martha Have a Mary Christmas? I stood there looking at that for quite a while, and I am afraid the title has not left me since…but not in the way that you might think. I know what they are saying…that we should not get so caught up in the craziness and commercial aspects of Christmas that we forget the true and real meaning. And I agree with that wholeheartedly. But I am also starting to think that poor Martha has been getting a bad rap her whole life. Everyone is so down on Martha…Martha is the worry wart…Martha is the obsessed…Martha has the anal retentive qualities of an ant on ritalin. But Mary…MARY has it all right. Every woman’s conference from here to Tuktiyuktuk has featured some speaker praising Mary and dogging on Martha. OK…I know that Jesus himself said that Mary had chosen what is right (Luke 10:38-42), and Martha, though well intentioned was slightly misguided. I am well familiar with the story. And I agree that we should be more concerned with the state of our heart than the state of our house. But I guess what I am wondering is this…is it always one or the other? What do you get when you have a Martha cross bred WITH a Mary? Because personally I think that I am a bit of both. I love to sit at the feet of Jesus. I just like to do it on a lovely colored floor mat with candles lit in the background, and maybe a streaming cup of hot cocoa and a platter of stuffed mushrooms and crab puffs beside me. So I am wondering…can you have the heart of Martha and Mary combined? And is it OK? Am I forgetting the meaning of Christmas and the beauty of the nativity story just because my house is a virtual wonderland of glitter and twinkle? Can I not have a heart for the Lord and still be concerned about the beauty of my surroundings? Because personally I think that God GAVE me a love for beauty. I know that in this, as with everything, it is all about balance. Everything in moderation right? But I guess today I just wanted to put in a little plug for the underdog. A little affirmation for the Martha’s in this world. A reminder that even Martha’s want beauty in their hearts (they just want it in their homes as well). And just remember the next time you are at a conference learning how to be a Mary while excavating any traces of Martha in your heart – think about who most likely organized the event in the first place? My guess is – probably a Martha.

Getting Back into Poutine...er...Routine.

I had some great fries last night. But that is not what this is about. Last night we arrived back to our normal life. We were welcomed most warmly by Abby - our most loved and spoiled cat - who showered us with great affection and love in the form of purring, tail swishing and licks on our noses. The retreat was wonderful. Very restful and enjoyable. We had a great time shmoozing with all the other pastors and their wives. All my attempts to be a hermit went right out the window when we as ladies began to talk shop - crafts. I just can't help myself - I was then hooked. It is like a sickness.

It was probably the best retreat of the 3 years that we have been going. The speaker was amazing. He spoke on evangelism and renewing our passion for the community. I was thinking that he should speak on peeling up pastors when they have been smushed to the floor, or on holding on when you feel like you are hanging on by fraying dental floss over a river full of crocks and poisonous snakes. But God knows better than I... and the messages hit home to what we needed. The thing that stood out to me the most was: that we should not be "keepers of the aquairium", we should be "fishers of men". And I can see where we have lost our focus and taken up the task of aquarium cleaning, filter washing, feedings, and algae scrubbing. And it seems like when you are having to do that all day, you forget about the fish inside and out of the tank. SO it was a very encouraging time. And now, here I am...back to small town Saskatchewan. We didn't want it to end, but it was good to get home anyways. It does help to know that we have a week of holidays coming up in just over a week. That makes the jumping back in a little sweeter.

Harv is doing a wedding on Saturday, so the order of business for the day, other than the laudry and unpacking will be to shake the moths out of his suit. This will be his second marriage. To officiate, not to participate in. I am the one and only wife. Though we admire Solomon, his marital practices left alot to be desired...

So it is good to be back, it is good to be blogging, and it is good to have a cat that wont leave my side. We appreciate the care and love our catsitter gave - Thank you Becky - though I found a french fry in my couch this morning and and I am wondering what all happened in this household while we were gone!?!

Speaking of fries - on the way home we stopped at Fuddruckers in Saskatoon for their world famous burgers, fries and old fashioned milk shakes. It was quite the blast from the past as we as a youth group used to go there in Winnipeg on the way back from the roller rink. It's nice to see that some things stay the same. Well, other than the price... But boy was that a good burger. Just thought I'd share that with you. Have a good day all!