Muppets, Church and Belief

This will be a short post as I only woke up a short time ago and have to run through the shower before my dad gets back and we go to look at cars to replace the one that was totalled last week. (Stupid truck drivers!)

Yesterday I took one of the ladies that I support to mass. It's funny because although we are entirely two different people, her and I seem to understand one another on a level that is not quite where other team members see themselves.

Anyway, there she was - blessing everyone who would make eye contact with her, singing to hearts content (though completely out of key and incorrect words, it did not matter), and giving thumbs up to the guy behind us because he had a "lovely singing voice". She was smart enough to put two and two together because when Fr. A started talking all about "preparing the way", she tugged on my sleeve and not-so-quietly whispered, "we have to prepare for the Baby Saviour. He comes at Christmas, you know!"

It was a powerful moment on this advent journey for me because although we were sitting there for her that morning, I had a "Grinch moment"... you know, one of those moments where my heart grew three sizes.

There was Fr. A, preaching in a church that I left years ago to pursue a dream, speaking to a heart that has been self-inflicted with grief, hurt, and pity; nearing the end of his 10 minute homily, I could truly feel my heart getting warmer, praying for a sense of cultivation and watering.

"Fine. If you have crooked ways that need to be straightened, by all means, straighten them. If you have rough paths that need smoothing, then smooth them over. But do not do all these things in order to prepare to be touched by the Christ child at Christmas time... do these things because you are obsessive or compulsive or both, ok? God does not want you to come to the manger all high and mighty with all your affairs in order because then he cannot help you. He wants you to come, with all your crooked and imperfected ways, for it is only through the cracks that the light can shine..."

Left me a ponderin' late into the night last night and still sits heavy on my heart this morning. Maybe there is truth to what he was saying... I'll keep you posted.

The Lessons of Rhubarb

Did you know that you can avoid crying when you cut an onion if you refrain from cutting the very end of the onion off until the last possible cut? It's true... or, you can just wear contact lenses because apparently that prevents your eyes from tearing up as well.

Rhubarb? I am not so lucky.

I am definitely wearing my contacts, but just about lost them in the sliced rhubarb as my eyes teared up.

I shed a tear for the memories held deep inside of cutting rhubarb last summer and being called a "rhubarb buddy"...

I shed a tear for the lessons I was taught as the rhubarb was cut - not just about how to slice it best for stewing as opposed to baking sliced rhubarb, but the lesson that rhubarb is like love - the more of it that you give away, the more you get the next day. It's true - as soon as you pick all the rhubarb, magically, two days later - there is more than what you originally started with. I actually used to think that I could eat/stew/freeze/bake with all the rhubarb that grew in that little, city garden. I would actually get upset when it was given away to church ladies, neighbours, and co-workers. However, by the end of the summer, I learned that she was right. The more you give away, the more it grows...

I shed a tear thinking about the fact that there won't be a rhubarb buddy this year; that most of the rhubarb will go to seed, and that no one here will eat rhubarb and custard with me...

... and I shed a tear out of shear frustration for not remembering how to cut for stewing as opposed to baking.

However, most of the tears are shed because this broken stalk of rhubarb will never, fully reach it's "rhubarb potential". So, dear rhubarb buddy, if there is any chance that you are out in the garden this summer and picking rhubarb, and you find yourself in need of a rhubarb buddy... I won't say a word. I won't beg you not to share it with others or plead for you to make the amazing sauce just right so that it melts over vanilla ice cream... instead, I will simply rejoice that this particular stalk was picked, dusted off, and called upon. I won't hold my breath, that would be stupid - not to mention painful - but will continue to grow. Hopefully, before I break into seed, you'll pick me.

Who Says That?!

This picture made me laugh, and yes, out loud!  It's kinda cute, whatever it is, don't ya think?

So, I called my family doctor last week, knowing that I was dry out of the prescription medication that I require - and this would be the first time I've been to see her since before leaving for Eastern Canada at the end of the summer.  

Woke up this morning feeling like this cute little green guy, the roads/weather sounded horrible, and staying in bed had a certain, attractive appeal to it.  So, picking up the phone, I call my doctor's office and the conversation went something like this:

"Good morning, Sickuare Medical Clinic, how can I help you?"

"I am calling to cancel an appointment with Dr. DrugsRMyFriend for this morning"

"And what is your name?"

"Ms. ImmuneSystemBGone"

"And what is your reason for canceling this mornings appointment?"

"I'm sick"

Yup, I actually told her I was canceling because I was sick.  After a few seconds of silence, in which my face turned a shade of lovely ruby (while I'm sure she sat puzzled on the other end), I embarrassingly said, "Never mind then - I shall see you in 45 minutes for the appointment!"

Argh, chalk it up to needing to laugh at myself - that's the only I got for trying to cancel a doctor's appointment with the rationale "I'm sick".  ha ha ha ha ha ha ha... who does that?  Me, that's who!!