A Time for Change

For years... literally, more years than I can remember, I have had this set of flannel sheets. They started off being a royal blue with little yellow stars and cute little sheep as the print; however, after all this time, the blue is now a blue-grey hue, the stars are essentially white (occasionally a yellow one pops up) and the sheep are now replaced with holes of worn fabric.

I know that I need to change the sheets and put my summer ones on, which is normally a happy thing. But today... today there is the realization that when I take the sheep off the bed this season, that will mark the end of their reign as my sole set of comfy flannel. It is like the end of an era.

"...now I lay my sheep to sleep, I pray the Lord their soul to keep..." Well, not quite, but... kinda.

I have fought this life transition so hard and so stubbornly, it is starting to reach the point where my sheets almost have their own aromatic odor. Let me state that I have washed them through the winter, but up until now, I just have not had the inner strength I need in order to change them... one. more. time.

But something changed inside of me this week and I cannot quite put my finger on what that is. I can identify the turning point as being a chat with a friend on our break at an exam... but I cannot put my finger on that "one" thing that changed in order to make this level of inner peace possible.

It was kind of cool actually - it was like a turning point in our friendship. There she was, all wise and crap, being all logical and continually saying, "... but I don't understand your resistance". And for those of you who know this stray little sheep well, know that this would normally make me turtle. My "usual" response to a phrase like this would be, "yea, you're right. Should just get 'er done" and then make a mental note not to share my inner turmoil with that particular friend in the future. But this time... this time, something was different. Maybe it was her patience in waiting out the awkward silence as I tried to find the words to articulate my puking-in-my-mouth fear of the change. And lo and behold, I did!

So together, we sat for no longer than 30 minutes, but we managed to come up with a workable solution: going to talk with someone who would know more of how to help me face this transition... this upcoming hill. And no joke, I slept better that night than I have in weeks.

This week, I found myself sitting in the office of a most superb health professional - you know, that kind that (unlike the majority of their colleagues) goes above and beyond the call of duty. And by the shear grace and "rah-rah-rah" strength of distant friends, I was able to share with her why I could not face the sheet-change era of my journey.

SHE THANKED ME! I am still in shock. This health professional actually thanked me for sharing this piece of my journey with her... she said that she was humbled... and thanked me some more. We chatted briefly about what my two options were - she wrote a note essentially giving me and the higher ups permission to delay the sheet change and then she gave me a list of options that were available for support should I feel called to take the plunge and change the sheets.

It blows my mind... a month ago, I would still be fighting the higher ups, the health professional and the friends... I would fight until I was blue in the face that I needed these sheets to cling to every night for safety... for security... for peace of mind... and for the ability to remember to BREATHE. But this morning, I find myself thinking about actually changing the sheets.

The weather outside is gorgeous - so I could wash my summer sheets and hang them outside for "to die for" summer smell and I could cut these sheep up so that I had a new saxophone-polishing rag, piano dusting rag, and maybe even a square or two for the quilt I am working on (there are some decent patches left on these sheets).

I don't feel like I have the strength or courage to conquer the world yet... but I feel... okay. at peace. rested. I have finally been given the keys that I need to unlock doors which were previously bolted, boarded, and blockaded.

Then again, maybe I am just finally maturing.

A few thoughts

So, as means of an update, this whole convocation thing is really throwing a wrench into the plan of continuing to believe that it's "just a piece of paper". There are a few people who were crucial in ensuring that I finished this journey - and none of which are going to be here for the "big" day. Let's see... one of them has purple duties in a small country down under, one of them has purple duties in the city nearby, and two of them live virtually, across the country. At the end of the day, I continue to tell myself that it is not a big deal and it is *just* a piece of paper. An expensive one, no doubt, but it is simply a symbol.

I am reminded of an evening in which I tried to teach the concept of a symbol to a group of youth who were preparing for a sacrament within the church. My definition has always been pretty traditional in that a symbol is a sign; a symbol points us to something bigger, more inspirational, and often, a lot more meaningful.

We were talking about what symbols were - how roadsigns symbolized a significant traffic condition (high fatality location, slippery surface when wet/cold, oncoming traffic, one way, etc) and how the sacrament we were about to celebrate together was very much representative of something more meaningful and powerful in their faith journey than simply a loaf of bread being passed around.

On that note, I totally understand how this whole whoopla is symbolizing something greater, buuuuuut, that doesn't change the fact that it stinks. Like a rotten egg would in warm sunshine.

And, before I leave to conquer the day and change the world, although the people I wish to say this to the most will probably never read it (or not read it for a very long time), I shall say it anyway.

"If every word I said

Could make you laugh,

I'd talk forever.

If the song I sing to you

Could fill your heart with joy

I'd sing forever."

(Beach Boys, Forever)

Annnnd to that, I would add,

If every prayer I prayed

Could make you stronger,

I'd pray forever.

If every thought I had

Could ease your pain,

I'd think forever

If every time I wrote

Could close the gap we had,

I'd write forever.

That's all.

Stupid Phrase of the Day

I drove said friend back to her place so that I could stop by and pick up something that they had brought back for me from the neighbouring province while competing in auto-cross nationals.

Her husband was driving their car home and made sure to say, "so... I wonder who will get home first" as we were about to pull out of the parking lot. We followed him out of the lot and were doing very well until we surprisingly came to a set of railway tracks with the loud dinging and bars coming down.

Sitting there for a solid 15 minutes, we talked about graffiti, break-ins, stupid criminals, baseball bats, criminal charges for battery of a criminal... sure - definitely random things to talk about as we watched and waited for the long (and slow!) train to pass, but I think we were both exhausted.

When the gates finally lifted and we were on our way, it was when we went to turn left (across the lane of traffic) to head back to her house that I truly demonstrated how completely exhausted I was - mentally and all.

"Oh my! That is a very long lane of traffic. I wonder what the hold up is... did we pass an accident or something?"

Said friend simply turned and stared at me until I managed to glance over and meet her gaze.

"Ummm... do you think that it *might* have ANYTHING to do with the long train that we just watched go by?"

Oh. Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Nevermind then. Resume previous conversation. Oye. Leave it to me to bring home the intelligent, misplaced phrases and questions. ;)

Don't Want the Day to End

Today whizzed by. In more ways than one. I was invited to attend an auto-cross event in which a friend and co-worker was racing her car (as well as her husband). They are truly wonderful people to be around and I think there was more laughing done today than in the past month. I was told this afternoon that I was a bad influence for said friend because she strives to make me laugh because when I am laughing, I say something stupid that makes her laugh and we get caught in this vicious (albeit, hilarious) circle.

And although I am completely exhausted and my pillow is calling me, I really do not want this day to end. I got word today that my next youngest sister is moving back home. While this is good news because it means that the relationship with her abusive boyfriend is going to cease to exist, it also means that family dynamics will once again be thrown into the blender. It means that my personal routine will need to change so that it can accomodate her schedule (which is quite different from mine) and personal and quiet space will become even harder to claim. We are both incredibly stubborn and while we used to be the best of friends, we now simply co-exist. Who knows - maybe having the prodigal daughter return home will be good for everyone, but I am just a little skeptical.

Annnnd, underlying this anxiety and array of mixed feelings, I am dreading the upcoming weeks. I work four hours tomorrow night (in which I am scheduled to work past my normal bedtime) and have to be at work for 9am the next morning. I am in training until 4:30pm and have to race over to Cory's house for 5pm. I get off from there at 9pm. This is the routine until Friday. However, added to those insanely long days, on Wednesday - I have to get up and be out of the house by 630am, drive to the local University, pick up some paperwork, and get back into the nearby town for 9am. On Thursday, after I get off work at 9pm, I return home, pick up my hockey gear and play a late game (1045 start, 2 hour ice slot). And Friday, go from work at 9pm, over to another house in which I am looking after 3 ladies (one of whom apparently does not sleep) and remain there until Sunday night at 9pm.

The next week is much the same - although the training goes from 9am - 5pm and then a frantic rush to get to Cory's house as soon as I can. The catch on the second week of 12 hour shifts is that Cory and Nathan are moving into a new house. This means that the upcoming two weeks will be primarily centered around packing them up, moving them out, unpacking them, cleaning old house (which will be a job and a half) and getting them settled in a new neighbourhood.

Oye. That said, as much as I don't want the day to come to an end - it will. It always does. Means that I should really turn in and try and sleep - although the adrenhaline from today is still surging strong...

If I can survive the next two weeks, stay tuned for the ridiculousness that will be my life.

What else can be done?

I once had a mentor and friend who used the phrase, "it'll plague me to my grave" to describe those undesirable, untalkable things in life that daily challenged her.

We all have that list of things that, regardless of what we do, will haunt our days until the day we die.

One of mine is the ridiculous, unfounded desire to please people in my life.

The habit is an unhealthy one and while I can recognize this basic fact - it is a behaviour that is insanely difficult to stop participating in.

I agree to meet people who repeatidly stand me up. I get all excited and psyched up to finally see them and catch up. At one point, we were as close as sisters could ever be. Now - I don't even know where we stand. I think I've seen this person twice in the last 8 months. We make plans, arranage the details, I clear my schedule... and they don't show. I sometimes wonder if it would be easier to just cut the loss and walk away, give up, refrain from putting myself in that situation on future occassions. Yet, when they send a public, somewhat sarcastic message about finally meeting up, my desire to please their request grows and I respond - placing myself in the vicious circle once again.

On other occassions, the innate "big sister" in me leads me to opening up in most intimate fashion either spiritually or emotionally (neither of which I am extremely comfortable with) to someone in order to pass on some, remotely related piece of life experience that might help in the situation of a close friend. In the desire to please this person, I go above and beyond what would be considered the norm. Kills me. One email or phone conversation at a time. The serious lack of response on their end is a toxin.

Slowly, I'm learning. As immature as it might sound to some, I make plans with the first individual in a public, busy place so that I may always have proof that I held our plans and showed up, but that no one ever joined me. I work to find the silver lining: a bit of individual time with a cup of tea is not the end of the world every now and again. With others, I am learning that I should not hold my breath for promised updates - when they want to fill me in, they will and their lack of updating should not be a reflection on who I am, but who they are. I am learning that emailing while they are at work, while convienient and possibly desirable for them, usually leads to frustration, hurt feelings, and a series of pointless wonderings on my part.

Contrary to the teachings, I am learning to take the approach of an eye for an eye: if someone wishes to see life from the position of my eyes, they have to be willing to enlighten me from their eye colour first. In order to take, there must be give. From my viewpoint, in the grand universe scheme of things, I deserve to take and not simply give in the give and take spectrum of life.

Maybe I'm just tired, whiney, or downright cranky, but realistically - I'm trying to level some relationships in life - something that has to be done if I am to survive the craziness. Notions of sarcasm and "fairness" only go so far. After that, what else can be done? Bring on the ritual sacrifice of eyes, ears, and any other dual body part we have!

Not for the weak of stomach

Sorry, I apologize in advance for the "graphic" nature of the picture, but this dear toe is the subject of reflection this afternoon.

A few days ago, post the funeral of a young family friend, and before the craziness of this week set in, I went for a hike. Not an incredibly long journey, but long enough that I learned a valuable life lesson... hence, the reflective blog post.

Here is the short story of my toe, or "relatively short story" of my toe. When I was in grade 10, back in 2000, I was going to change from gym class, and had a heavy fire door opened on my toe. I was going into the gym and previous class was leaving. While wearing runners, my toe managed to get wedged between the bottom edge of the door and the floor, resulting in bleeding and a minor annoyance of pain. A few weeks later, before the nail had a chance to fall off, we were playing floor hockey in a friends basement and I managed to "accidently kick" (paradox, I think not!) the piece of 2x4 that was the beginning of them framing their basement. The nail fell off rather painlessly, but has been a pain in the ass ever since. I have had two complete nail ressections (removal of the entire visible nail), endless doctors appointments and open toed shoes, as well as one surgery to go in and remove the nail while also destroying the nail matrix.

Unfortunately, my toenail seems to be a close relative to the raspberry stalk because nothing will kill the damn thing. Since the surgery, the nail has grown back in on a sharp angle (like is seen above) and would catch on anything and everything, pulling it back a little more each time. Things like sheets, blankets, socks, edges of steps, the sidewalk, you name it.

So, really wanting to get out and go hiking this past week, I wrapped the toe in prowrap, and secured that on with a surrounding bandage of hockey tape. That sucker wasn't going to catch on anything as I hiked my way through the bush. About half way through the afternoon though, there was a twinge of pain coming from my foot. Sitting down in a resting grove, I carefully took my boot off, then my sock, and then the first layer of bandage before I noticed some blood.

Carefully cutting off the prowrap and tape together, I could assess the damage more easily. To my surprise, the jagged edge of a nail was gone and I only had some blood to deal with.

It's amazing what our feet can tell us. Before that afternoon, I never would have guessed that my nail had a purpose in my life, but in fact, it's purpose is pretty incredible. You see, when the little piece of nail was there, it was a reminder to slow down and watch where I walked, avoiding anything that might snag and hurt. But without the nail, I am still the same person. There was weeping blood to dry off and clean up, but eventually - the toe stopped bleeding and began to heal over. The pain subsided and I was able to hike back down, the same way I came up.

Sometimes, life is just like a toe. There are days where it might seem incredibly pointless to engage, as though it is something without a deeper meaning. However, if we are attentive enough to our own "selves", we know to look out for snagging material that will cause pain, further injury or headache. And sometimes, unfortunately, we will lose things in life before we want to. (I much rather would have preferred the nail to stay on until the doctor's appointment in September for him to see and evaluate!) But after some weeping and mouring, we will be okay, successful, optimistic in a brighter tomorrow. The pain will fade, the mess will be cleaned up, and the journey will be continued as though our crisis was nothing more than a resting place along the walk.

It seems so mundane and simple and I wish that I would have understood it before now, but I've always been a tangible learner and need to experience things to learn from them. I will miss Reed, the same way I will miss and wish my toenail was still here. Toes are certainly more beautiful when 10 are painted, not just nine; life more beautiful and spectacular with dear friends and near family. There will always be a gap in the nailpolish, but that's okay. My toe, just like my life over the past little while, was a learning experience I wish to never forget and may the (temporarily) nail-less toe be a reminder of the incredible grace and peace I experienced on that hillside that afternoon. And may this ugly looking toe be a gentle whisper reminder of the slow turning point to come back home, out of the bush - and into light of life. TBTG!

Feelers

Everyone, at some point, has done that thing in life where they first send feelers into a conversation, testing the waters to see if the other person is open to having a deep conversation about the shit-tayness that comes with life. Sometimes we discover that in fact, this the person we can talk to, confide in, and share the strains and stresses of the day while other times, the radar comes back, "NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY" for whatever reason. The other person is too busy or preoccupied or would just prefer to not participate in such a conversation.

Often, when people are sending feelers out to us, it's obvious - they give subtle hints that there is something bugging them that they want to talk about, but sometimes - we haven't the slightest clue until something triggers us much later in the day.

This morning, I was running behind. There is too much bubbling around between these ears to get a good night sleep as of late, so when the alarm goes - there is a consider amount of grumbling, moaning, and sighing to start the day. Racing through the shower, throwing a lunch together and trying to find clean clothes to wear (not in that order -and our wash machine is broken) in 15 minutes was a challenge. And when sibling #2 stood in the porch entryway in her pj's while I tried to find shoes and get out the door, I didn't even take a moment to ponder why she asked, "Did you hear what happened last night?" I honestly thought she was going to tell me about someone who came into work, someone passed on a juicy piece of community gossip or that her ball team qualified for the playoffs (this last one would truly be a long shot, but I was being optimistic). If I would have taken 2 seconds (seconds!) to look up at her before I answered, my answer would have been different. But, I didn't. She was putting out the feelers, and I was completely ignoring the fact that she was doing so. "No, but can we talk about it when I get home this afternoon? I am going to miss the bus and that would be a bad thing!"

"Yea" she said... and didn't move as I turned and ran out the door.

I got a phone call/voice message during my class that was a frantic and upset sibling #2, mumbling something about how she was had called into work to let them know she couldn't go in, and they were insisting on having a doctor's note.

After calling her back, returning the message from the doctor's office about a surgery date, and re-arranging some work commitments I had that afternoon, I found out in a hysterical manner that a friend of the family was killed in an ATV accident last night; there was no way she was going into work, let alone - hold herself together long enough to tell me what was going on over the phone.

Later in the afternoon, as I was heading home to switch vehicles and clothes for class tonight, the events of the past few days had hit hard and I too, needed to be momentarily hysterical with someone. So, just like my sibling did this morning, I put the feelers out to someone I felt comfortable talking to - and surprisingly, got the same "NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY" response that I had given my sister this morning. They had a long day, an appointment stood them up, and will be moving in the next week and probably had a million other shrimp in their frying pan to saute, without adding mine into the mix as well.

Needless to say, I felt like a shmuck. It's funny how we learn our lessons... that simple, pop-psych phrase, "what goes around, comes around" is so true. My sister needed 30 seconds of time this morning, to call her work and explain in a calm fashion that she truly couldn't work today, and I pushed it off until "later". But now, thankfully, I have seen this case from the otherside - from the "I need to talk" side when someone is just not receptive to talking at that given point in time.

Lesson learned. Next time it is incredibly obvious that someone is putting feelers out into my waters, I will take that moment to glance up, make sure they're okay, and "be there" for them. Today's lesson is brought to you by the letter J, the colour: pea-ish green, and the number 3.

God chooses the ordinary

I cannot sleep.  Not that this is surprising or anything as my mind is trying to understand a number of things annnnnnd, I had a Diet Coke.  I should know by now that DC is a bad thing to drink within hours of wanting to be asleep... hmm... chalk it up to... negligence?  

The Bible is always being "pop-psyched" up and beautiful passages are being summed up in short phrases of 21st Century English.  However, sometimes the pop-psych phrase seems to "fit".  The quote, "God chooses ordinary people for extraordinary service" derives from this passage from 1 Corinthians 1:26-31 (I believe...) and it is this very passage that is haunting the hallows of my mushy brain tonight.  

This week can be summed up as follows:

Monday: I finished putting together a DVD to mail to the East Coast for the Relay for Life. Never done a Relay, don't know 99.8% of the people in the pictures that I've included in the short movie, and have no idea if I've done what I was supposed to or will have my offer accepted again.  But when I asked my youngest sibling (16 yrs old) to watch it with me and offer feedback... the tough lil' basketball star dried her eyes and said, "wow".  I can't help but wonder in amazement - how this is even possible.  I will put it in the mail shortly and find out whether I was on track or off by a screeching mile; something tells me it's more on than I could have asked for.  I also spent two hours walking a classmate through course material for the midterm the next day.  Didn't bother me in the slightest - I had nothing better to do and yet, she wouldn't stop saying thank you.  Really... no big deal.  I was studying anyways.  

Tuesday: I cleaned out my spare change and bought a bus ticket that was valid for two hours.  Took the train downtown and made a few important stops.  I stopped at my favourite flower shop and ordered a lovely arrangement of flowers (and dropped off a hand made card) for a fellow employee celebrating a big day and asked that the flowers be delivered "from a secret sender".  The owner of the shop, whom I've come to know quite well, was asking about my studies and what my life plans were.  Chatting briefly, she took my number and wrote it below "Positive, Bubbly Personality" and vowed to call me when she filed her application to the University.  She always wanted to study further, but was sitting on the fence.  Apparently 5 minutes of my time and my story was enough to give her the confidence to file an application and see what happens.  I still await her call, but have no doubt in my mind that it will come.  

The next stop was to a party store where I picked up plastic champagne glasses, paper plates, funny shaped balloons, a Happy Anniversary banner, sparklers, a #1 shaped candle, and party hats.  I also managed to find a "question mark" shaped sparkler.  Before heading back to the University, I made a quick stop for plastic cutlery, a cheesecake topped with fresh fruit, and "sparkling apple juice" - the kind that comes in a real champagne bottle but is not at all alcoholic - "kids wine".  Trudging all this stuff to the office in which I work part time as a contracted employee, I managed to enliven the afternoon of 4 wonderful people for a bit.  My supervisor was celebrating her 1 year anniversary with the program (hence the banner, candle, cake, etc) while her boss (the main director of the program) celebrated her "?" birthday on Saturday.  Decorating the boardroom with much laughter and "I CANNOT believe you did this!! I will never forget this day!  and I don't know whether to cry or laugh" comments from the anniversary-celebrant... we partied for a total of 15 minutes, then packed up and all went back to work.  

Wednesday: While playing a ball game (and not at ALL) on duty, had one of my players hit the ball (a nice double!), and then fall to the ground.  As my team knows that I have a 'bit' of training in the medical realm, I got to tend to this young man until the paramedics showed up.  We iced it and gave him water to drink and distractions to think of while he lay in the shale.  It appears that he tore the majority of ligaments in his knee and dislocated the knee cap itself.  I also got a call from a high school classmate who is going through more life conversions than anyone should have to, who just wanted to chat.  I'm not sure that I said anything of great value, but was willing to share what little experience I had with transitions and got to listen to them share their story.  At the end of the conversation, a very hushed, "thank you, can we talk tomorrow?" came over the phone.  And, to top it off, had someone email me a sermon for Sunday and ask my humble opinion.  (I tried to explain that I'm not really in that frame of mind, but they insisted that I read it through... have yet to do so, but it's on the list!)

I also took a phone call from 1-yr anniversary supervisor who was "just calling to let (you) know how touched (I) was yesterday".  

I don't know what to say.  I think it's that lightbulb realization that this type of week... is my life.  I honestly believe that if someone were celebrating an important anniversary of something, I would commend them and celebrate with them if they let me.  (There are some who never respond to anniversary wishes, but that's their choice, I guess)  If someone was in need of comforting or someone to take authority and say, "don't move him, get ice, call 911" - I would do that in a heartbeat.  I will never turn down someone's request for coffee or a chat because if they trust me enough to want to talk, I'll be there.  I know of a chaplain who refers to this notion as the economy of grace - that when you invest and share grace with others, you invest in them: their futures, their aspirations, their life.  

It's the powerhouse realization that, I dare say, in order for me to invest this grace in others - someone first has invested in me.  They did so on the basis that I would pay it forward... tHEy did so with the understanding that, although just an ordinary person - in the eyes of others, it may be extraordinary.  I just hope that HIS holy investment doesn't come with too many expectations.  And, for the record, I think that although this individual is 45 hours away, I may have been "Cliff-ed" today.  DOH!

The Rationale... of a Donkey

Notice, I did not say "ass", which we all know is the code name for a donkey. At least in these parts of the English speaking world, it is.

I wanted to ask the question, are donkeys able to think rationally?

See, here's the thing. I know that the donkey on Shrek (for the most part) thinks like a rational being... he knows what to do to help Shrek fight the dragon, he is able to father children, and leads a fairly normal (albeit, donkey) life. Therefore, based on this example, I would be inclined to say that donkeys are capable of rational thought.

However... I have continually been told that I am more stubborn than average ass. I mean... donkey. Which, in my convoluted thought, seems to beg the question, "am I actually capable of rational thought, on most days?"

I want to answer yes - that, on the average day, I approach the tasks ahead of me in a cognitive and coherant fashion, achieving goals and fulfilling dreams.

Buuuuuut (hahaha... donkey, ass, but? Okay, I'm tired)... there are more days than not in which I find myself at a roadblock, wondering where on earth I went wrong. So, exerting the extra effort to re-trace my steps backwards, and after many trials and errors, (and the grace of hindsight), I finally figure out where I made my mistake and am able to correct my steps and continue on my way. While there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with this superficially, it is, for lack of more description... exhausting.

For example, something simple like taking medication daily. I know it's something I should do, and I have paid witness to what happens when I miss taking them...and yet, there are still days where I "forget"... and I pay the consequences ALL OVER AGAIN!

If it was only me that these errors in judgement affected, I would cope with that. But I am human (yes, the stubborn, ass end of human - but human) and this fact alone tells me that I am interconnected with other people ALL THE TIME. And so, unfortunately, being stubborn beyond the realm of your average ass, doesn't just hurt me... but those around me.

... if only I could find a way to illustrate that donkeys too, are capable of rationale thought. Hmm

It's all about "payin it forward!"

I couldn't stop smiling... this morning, while on a short break from classes, I took the underground train to a busy street in the city and then caught a bus to take me down the street to where I needed to go.  It is my all time favourite flower shop, and they always do an exquisite job on putting together beautiful arrangements.  The young man behind the counter recognized me immediately, commenting on how my hair had grown since I was last there, and commented on my wonderful taste in flowers.  (Personally, I figure he was just trying to butter me up for the money I was about to spend with them, but I wouldn't have gone anywhere else)

The bouquet was then ordered "anonymously" for the receptionist who, while having to work Saturday, Sunday (until 10pm) and then yesterday - still managed to show up with a bright smile on Tuesday morning.  And these... are the pictures from the card.  The image that is cut out of the last picture, is Winnie the Pooh playing the flute.  After saying, "You are... exceptional, one of the best kept secrets of the program, wonderful, family, fantastic, #1, smart, unbeatable, voted (insert city name here) best, amazing, unbelievable, magic in action, fantastic, a star, remarkable, on fire, the greatest, super, happening, unique, the ultimate, a keystone"... the handwriting (disguised) reads: Anna, the program could not be what it is without your "unsung" musical contributions (!!) and harmony line.  Thank you so much for all you do!!

The bouquet was supposed to be delivered for 3:00pm this afternoon so that it would be there long before I showed up for training, yet cleverly delivered on the day that I would be in the office anyway (hopefully eliminating my name from the possible suspects, as I would have just brought the bouquet in if coming in anyway).  However, it showed up while I was there.  A bit off-putting, as I tried to stay out of the way, yet dodge questions when I was asked who might possibly do such a thing... but, all in all - it was great!

Her words were, "I just.... wow... how could... huh..." Hopefully she will go home, bathing in the fact that her endless hard work does not ALWAYS go unnoticed, and trust that she is loved, appreciated, and "belongs"

I think that's all we really need, isn't it?  To know that, on some level, we belong.  Whether it is to our work community, within a circle of friends, a church or worshipping community of some kind or a family... at the end of the day, we just need to know that... while often unspoken... we belong.  

A lesson that I wish more people would advocate, teach, and pray for.  But hey... I'm just one seekin' youngin... all I can do, is my personal best, each and every day.  And today... I did just that!  I would be interested in hearing what you have done or have had done to you that got the point across.  

Sarcastic Wednesday

Ok, it's not really sarcastic Wednesday, but more accurately... this was how my day started out this morning. My supervisor and case trainer is in the midst of an absolutely insane work week. A huge medical exam is taking place across the street on May 3, and case training started at 8:30am this past Saturday, with a half hour lunch, and continued until 5 in the evening. Getting Sunday off, training resumed Monday at noon and ran until 9pm... a pattern that will continue until Saturday's modified training hours. The week leading up to the exam is scattered with half hour dry run throughs for every group, case, and scenario.

So, to mark the craziness and celebrate the turning point in the week, I sent her this cute Hoops and Yoyo card. Quite cute... if you're having a sarcastic Wednesday - definitely worth the minute of your time!!

In through the nose, out... um... through the snow

Ok, ok - so it's not exactly how the phrase is supposed to finish however, there is nothing like 7 inches of fresh white stuff to make the world *almost* seem right again.  

I say *almost* because after spending the day at home, curled up in bed with a hot water bottle, some articles I needed to read for a "music therapy for traumatized youth" paper I'm writing, my blanket, and occasional "Reba" breaks... I was rewarded with being allowed to watch Lil 'Spuds basketball game.  

It was a must-win game (just like their game on Wednesday!), against a team they lost to earlier in the season by a mere 9 points.  I like to say that the Spirits lost because the coach benched Lil Spud, and after watching her play tonight - I just might be right.  (Sisterly pride kicking in rrrrright.... here!)  In the first 10 minute quarter, my lil buddy managed to score 7 of the 11 team points, and assisted on the 4 points that she didn't score.  Swished a total of 4-3 pointers, lead the team in defense, and they managed to win by 30 points!!  

And now, I get to bug her because she took an elbow in the face, early in the game, and before bed tonight - had QUITE the shiner forming.  She is truly a stunning athlete, playing senior level ball in grade 11. Makes being her big sister worth it ;)

Upon arriving home, managed to finish off tomorrow's assignment, the annotated bibliography for church history, a paper outline AND, glance at this week's math assignment.  This only leaves a major paper due Thursday, with a possible medical extension - depending how the week pans out.  And, as if that wasn't enough - I think I know what I am going to submit/analyze for a creative project: "Walking the Scorching Grains; 40 Days in the Desert"!  A scrapbook journey through the desert!  I will need to seek permission to hand the project in a few days after the proposed due date, but I really think it would be awesome (not to mention, personally required at this point).  

I also, as the cherry on the top, received an email from WonderChemist with an updated "rest of our lives" plan.  He is studying (alongside an honors chemistry degree) to get his pilot's license.  Soooo... his new plan involves moving to South America and becoming missionaries - both of us.  He figures with his flying ability, he can fly aid into remote areas of the country, while I can speak words of peace (in Spanish) to those in need and teach (also in Spanish, if needed).  He concluded by saying that he was really kind of "dreaming", but what he doesn't realize is that I might just hold him to this dream.  Really and truly!!! :D

But, the next greatest thing to watching Lil Spud play?  The fact that God blessed a great friend with one hell of a memory.  It took said friend only two questions before I realized what this festering wound really is all about; granted, I still have a lot to think about and work to understand, but in the short conversation we typed, some level of peace was restored in my heart. Said friend, confirmed quickly, that I am not crazy, off my rocker, or expecting the impossible from people - and kindly (probably without knowing it), reminded me that the stubborn in life often don't get very far.  

Tomorrow's plate includes a humble serving of returning phone calls, a veggie size portion of math (only because it's supposedly good for you), a hearty helping of "music therapy for traumatized youth" and a big ol' cup of Earl Grey to soothe the soul.  What's on your plate?

Welcome to Alberta!

The "stupid landlocked province"!!  So, Miss Sunshine arrived to a local temperature of -24 Celsius (it's slightly warmer in the nearest city, but still much colder than the -8 that she left this afternoon).  The province where we try and protect our property to the extreme!

Ha ha ha ha ha... so, this will go down in the books as the greatest "first night in a new province" ever!  On the way home from the airport, we were driving along a familiar gravel road, when I notice that two (not one, but TWO) cars are parked in our field (aka, private property).  One car with it's lights on, and one... well... with a little "mood lighting". 

Miss Sunshine rolls down her window, I turn down the music, and to the fancy, red, (paid for by selling drugs) sports car, I say:

"Can I help you with something?  Are you lost?"

"No, we are just hanging out"

"Well, unfortunately sir, you need to find somewhere else to hang out as this is private property"

"You own the side of the road?"

"No, I don't.  We own the field that your car is sitting in though sir, so if you will kindly..."

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"Would you like me to call the RCMP and they can charge you with trespassing?"

"Oh yeah... go ahead!"

(picks up cell phone and dials number for the farm, without pushing send, as the car speeds off down the gravel road - with the huge inconvenience of finding a new meeting place to sell their illegal drugs).

To the other car with "mood lighting", I simply backed up, put my lights onto their license plate and we copied it down. Upon arriving home, I explained that there were two more vehicles in our field.  Farming Dad, quite upset, goes to start his truck.  Racing back into the house, he grabs a flashlight, his cell phone (in case of trouble), and his big winter boots.  This is the story he shared upon getting home a few minutes later...

"I didn't know if anyone was actually in the car - all the lights were off and it wasn't running"

"So... what did you do?  Knock on the window?"

"Nope.  I tried to open the door" 

(Most people leave their vehicles unlocked here in farming country, especially of Farming Dad's Generation)

"Ha ha ha ha ha... um... did it open?"

"Well no, but when I tried the handle, the lights inside the car came on.  There were two VERY startled kids in the backseat.  The young boy opened the window slightly, at which time I explained to him that he was actually parked on private property.  He was pretty embarrassed, so I told 'em - the parking rates are $10 a minute, so you hurry up... and then we'll settle up."

"Um... Dad?"

"They weren't there very long; there goes another high school graduate expecting her first in November!"

Aw man, I love Farming Dad to bits, but of all the things for Miss Sunshine to experience as her first and lasting impression of Alberta... there could have been slightly more... um... G-rated impressions!!  :D  Good times!