An Unexpected Christmas Gift

Christmas this year took a few unexpected turns.
I woke up suddenly on Christmas Eve morning with food poisoning. This was a rather unpleasant surprise, leading to much discomfort during the festivities with my family. I didn't feel much like eating, or moving for that matter. But I had fun watching my nieces and nephews open their gifts, and exclaim, "This is just what I wanted!" I enjoyed watching my grandma trying to launch wrapping paper into a laundry bin across the room missing the bin every time but repeatedly hitting my mom. I enjoyed laughing at my sister-in-law's face as her husband received Starbucks coffee with a half-naked lady on it and he exclaimed rather excitedly, "OHHH! A half-naked lady" and proceeds to sniff the package much to her dismay. It wasn't the day we all had planned (it ended early due to Grandma's tiredness and my rumbley bowels), but we all laughed and enjoyed ourselves. We created memories---I don't think I'll ever forget my brother reading the "Christmas" story out of Revelation 5. (Who knew the Christmas story had a dragon in it?)
The following day, Christmas took another unexpected turn. We received a call in the morning that Dan's Grandma D. was in the hospital. As she was putting the turkey in the oven, she had shortness of breath, dizziness and chest pains. She was rushed via ambulance to emergency, where she was cleared to return home a few hours later. But this put Christmas out of whack. Luckily, Noel put the turkey in the oven and Auntie Kathie prepared the rest of the feast. Since Grandma needed to rest a lot more, and no one really let her stand up without offering to help her do whatever she was trying to do, it turned into a different sort of Christmas. We all pitched in to help prepare the meal, clean-up (thank you boys!) and sort through all of Grandma's worries. "Did Noel put bacon on the turkey?" Yes he did! "The gifts aren't in their bags." Don't worry Grandma, no one really cares if its not put in a bag. "Are the potatoes turned on?" Yes, they have been for an hour on low. About half way through the day, Laura and I caught Grandma puttering about trying to sort through gifts and putting them into bags. We offered to help her by collecting random things throughout her house (like gift bags in the basement). But we shared a moment that sort of sums up how I feel about this Christmas. After Grandma expressed a few more worries and concerns about the gifts not being labeled and that they weren't address to people, I piped up: "That's not what matters Grandma. Its about us being together. We are just happy that you are here to celebrate with us. I think the Grinch had it right. It's not about the gifts or the food. Those things don't matter in the long run. Its about us all being together."

I think this Christmas it was really brought home that Christmas isn't about the presents or the food or the traditions. Christmas is Christmas no matter what happens. If its around a hospital bed or over a toilet, the important thing is being together to celebrate Christ's birth. When you look at Christ's birth, it had its own set of unexpectancies. Any woman would tell you that giving birth isn't the most pleasant experience and not something that would grace the front of a Hallmark card. Neither would riding on a donkey in the late stages of pregnancy be very comfortable. Or having strangers visit you after your have just given birth. But these are all things that come with Christmas. Just like sickness, death and family feuds are a part of our Christmases today.

It's not to say that Christmas is this horrible thing. Look at the focus of the Christmas story. In the midst of all of these unexpectancies is this tiny baby boy. A complete joy to his parents! Our future Saviour of the world! Just like within my own food poisoning and Grandma's health scare, I found joy and peace. I found wonderful memories. I found laughter. I found concern and gratefulness. I found servant-like attitudes and helpful hands. Within all these unexpectancies, I found the true meaning of Christmas.

"It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes and bags! And he puzzled three hours, 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't though of before! Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more." (From How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Dr. Seuss)

My Christmas Diet Plan

Twas the night the before Christmas Eve, and all through the house, Amanda was stirring, she woke the whole house, The vomit was spewed in the toilet with care, and the smell of diarrhea permeated the air....okay I'll spare you the rest. Needless to say, I awoke suddenly to a terrible bout of food poisoning last night. I spent the better part of 3 hours getting up close and personal with Stewie (our toilet). I feel like I lost about 30 pounds overnight.
My Christmas diet plan includes but isn't limited to: food poisoning, and avoiding Turkey and anything that it touches.
Having a turkey allergy, sort of limits your food choices on Christmas day (and Thanksgiving). I pretty much get to eat salad (I have to avoid stuffing, gravy and the Turkey). Needless to say, while everyone else eats themselves silly, I get to pick and choose the foods I eat.
Today, I ate a 2 pieces of toast and a handful of crackers. Yep...I'm truly a glutton now!

Capilano Craziness

We promise, craziness runs in the family!

Our visit to Capilano Suspension Bridge
on Monday.

Over the snowbanks, and through the slush, to the grocery store we go

Every since, we got the cart back in the summer, we have been curious as to how it would fair in the snow. In one of those insane moments (that make up most of our lives), we decided to try it out. Much to our surprise, it actually did fairly well on its way to the grocery store.

Coming back, it was a different story. It had snowed so much that the cart was getting harder to pull. But we made it!

On our way out of the grocery store, Pricesmart has someone at the door saying good-bye to us (like a greeter, but they say, good-bye!). We've seen her many times before, and she always laughs when we bring in the cart. This day, she laughed at us and said, "You never cease to amaze and surprise me!" Apparently our antics take a lot of people by surprise. Another cashier, proclaimed "Isn't your blanket going to get snow on it?" as we placed a blanket over our groceries to keep the snow off of them. We simply replied, "A blanket can be washed and dried. But my broccoli doesn't like to be frozen!"

An Evening at Starbucks

Can you tell that we are Starbucks fans? Amanda and I make a habit of heading down to our "third place" (Starbucks), almost every Friday or Saturday evening. (thank goodness for gift cards!) We kinda do this as a date night, or take a break and reconnect after busy weeks. Now normally, it is a quite evening spending time talking, reading books or playing games, but tonight (Saturday night) was a different story. We got in, ordered our coffee and went looking for the comfy chairs (of which there are only two), only to find that there was disheveled man occupying just one of the two comfy chairs. We sat down at the table next to him, in hopes that he would move fairly quickly and we could take his seat. We are patient people! However, he ended up falling asleep and we move tables so that we could hook up the computer to an outlet. After we moved tables, one of the baristas, Jess, came over and asked us if we moved tables because the man smelled bad. We didn't smell anything. A few minutes pass, and we see another barista, Jen, go over and nudge the man awake and politely ask that he either stayed awake or that he needed to leave. It took her a bit to wake him up, and he seemed not to answer her. A few more minutes pass, and Jen returns to wake him up again. It took her almost 30 seconds to rouse him and he still didn't move. More time passes and this time, Jess goes over and tries to wake him. Still no movement, and no response. This time there was a warning that more action would be taken if he didn't move. He promptly fell back asleep after Jess left. Tyler, another barista, comes by our table and tells us that the cops are coming but that he wishes he could have at him. We tell him that we'll take our camera and record the action, but the man has to hit him first so that its self-defence. We also joke that "what is starbucks going to do? Fire you?" (it was his last day at work, as he is going to join the army). Needless to say, about 10 minutes pass and two cops walk in the door. Everyone just smiles and turns to watch. The cops take nearly a minute to wake the man (he was obviously on something). They proceed to talk to the man for a moment, and the next thing we hear is the sound of handcuffs being put on him. They take him out and grab his jacket. Seeing the seats empty, Jess told us to get up and move over to them. We walk over, but realize that the seat needs a wipe before we can sit down. She gladly sanitizes the seat for us (she really does like us!) and goes to grab a glove to remove the man's hat from the floor. She needed to wear gloves, since there was an unknown substance crawling in his hat. We proceeded to enjoy our evening at Starbucks, while listening to the music that Jess and Tyler had on their ipod. (no standard company music for us!) When they were putting this music on, we were the only ones in the entire establishment that they asked permission to put on the music. We gladly agreed and enjoyed an eclectic mix of music.

Tyler and Jess from our local starbucks

Help from strangers, neighbours, friends

Today was the second day of our Christmas shopping adventures. We have saved up all year to purchase a new television (our current model doesn't do white or bright colours very well. It all turns into a blinding scene of white, great for spiritual experiences, but not for television viewing). We've been looking around at various sales, seeing what our options were, for the amount of money we had saved up. On a whim (okay, to buy pop for Christmas), we went into London Drugs (the pop was on sale!). We decided to check out the televisions while we were there, as the Boxing Week flyer had just come in the mail and we didn't get a chance to read it. We happened upon a television in our price range that we had eyed up a few times. So we decided that we would purchase it, as they only a few left in stock. But this choice posed a problem for two people who walk every where they go. How do you get a television home without breaking it, when you are walking? Plus, can you stand to carry that heavy of an item home on your shoulders? (This isn't spongy like a Christmas tree). We happened to mention out loud that we needed to find someone who could come pick this up, before we paid for it. Amanda got the phone out, ready to call her mom or Dan's grandma for help. Before we could dial any numbers, the lady next to us, turns and asks us, "Do you live on Tims Ave?" We told her that we did. She seemed familiar, but we couldn't place from where we knew her. Turns out, she lives two doors down from us and was willing to give us a ride home. Evelyn, is a sweet older woman, who we saw maybe once or twice in the summer as we walked by her house as she was gardening. She told us, she likes to know who lives in the neighbourhood and paid attention to us walking around. It was a pleasant surprise that she would offer us a ride (and consequently wait for us to pay for the TV, and wait for an employee to get it out of the stock room).
Sometimes it surprises us that people recognize us since we walk around town so much. Our unofficial title seems to be "the walking couple." But then again, we notice other people who walk around as well. We still don't know what sets us apart from them, but it is nice to be recognized for that. And its nice that seeming random strangers are willing to help us out just because they recognize us from walking around town.
This isn't the first time this has happened to us. About two years ago, Dan and I walked to Superstore and ended up with more groceries than we could take home. We were about to call a taxi, when a nice woman offered us a ride home in her pick up truck. She said that she recognized us as the couple who walked around town. Needless to say, we accepted and are eternally grateful.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

It was a perfect walk today. I took both kids, our trusty green wagon and a very large package (containing the old broken printer) to the UPS store by Staples/Safeway. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and enough snow falling from the sky to keep the kids entertained. Cypress (almost 4) walked the whole way to the store, while River (2.5) rode in the wagon. We dropped off the package (yah, free shipping) and then I decided that it would be a wonderful treat to stop at Starbucks for a polar bear cookie and a kids hot chocolate. We shared the 440 calorie polar bear, splitting it in 3, Cypress ate the head, River the toes, and I got the fat belly. Then we all shared the hot chocolate. Okay, they each had a sip, decided against it and I drank the rest. We enjoyed our treats while sitting outside enjoying the snow falling. Then it was time for the walk home. Cypress was tired from the walk to the UPS store, so I let her ride in the wagon. I wanted River to walk, and of course he threw a fit. I told him he had to walk to the corner, but I never did specify which corner! After the first corner, the tears stopped (probably because he got to press the crosswalk button). After we crossed the street, River found a bird. He asked if he could catch it. I said, "sure, why not?" So off he fluttered, trying to catch a moving bird. He never did get close, but it kept him moving in the direction of home when I kept telling him there was another bird up ahead that he should catch. After a while, we got out of the forested Courthouse Yard, and into the urban forest where there were no birds. We were walking down the sidewalk and all of a sudden River kicks a mailbox. With the biggest sense of pride, he tells me, "I kicked it!" Hmm....boys will be boys and kids will be kids and River will kick things. (Just ask me about the bunny incident). But needless to say, although he was tired, he kept walking just to kick the next pole. One pole after another, he just kept walking and kicking. Now normally I'm not into the violent act of kicking. But under these circumstances, I wanted him to walk home (my arms were sore from pulling the wagon). So, I let him continue walking and kicking. He walked the whole way home and was so proud of himself. Cypress was so proud of him she just kept encouraging him and praising him for his efforts. It was a peaceful walk and a funny walk. Sometimes, you just have to let things that you know are right, go. Sometimes, you have to let the schedule and the need to move quickly slide and enjoy the time you have together. Today was one of those days. And I enjoyed it.

Christmas Tradition Revamped

Dan and I have a somewhat different Christmas tradition. It is something we have done for three years now and plan to do it for years to come. We go to the local grocery store (this year it was Pricesmart) and pick up a local tree. We would love to go into the forest and get a tree, but that doesn't seem legal. Nor is there a U-cut place within walking distance. So, the grocery store will have to do. But instead of tying down our Christmas tree to our non-existent car (or one that we borrow), we decided to carry it home on our shoulders.
I must point out that we had my mom's car this evening. It was parked at home. We chose to walk to the store and continue our tradition. It started three years ago, when my roommate Jenny wanted a Christmas tree. While we were shopping for groceries, we picked up a tree and she decided that we had to carry it home. Thus, the tradition began. Usually we try to wait for the first snow, but that sometimes takes too long and I get impatient. Plus, lets face it, walking in the snow isn't as pleasurable as walking on pavement.

This year, we took our tree tradition to a whole new level. We stopped at the Starbucks. Dan wanted to take the tree inside, but I somehow convinced him that would be inappropriate. I think I mentioned something about it being busy and there not being enough room. We redeemed a coupon for a free tall beverage and said hi to the Friday night girls. (We usually have a date night on Friday nights at Starbucks, redeeming our Visa points for Starbucks cards, and thus we've gotten to know these three fairly well). We enjoyed our coffee and asked one of the girls, Amanda, to join us for a photo opt. She agreed and we had a few laughs.

Then we walked the rest of the way home. We got a thumbs up from some kids in A&W and some stares from some drivers. But mostly people just laugh at us. When we got to our apartment, we invited Erin from upstairs to take some pictures with us. All in all, it was one of the most memorable trips to get our Christmas tree that we've ever had. Some people think we are crazy, but wait until there's a baby and we continue the tradition. I can picture a baby in a backpack crying because there are some tree branches poking its head. Yep....don't doubt us. It just might happen (especially if Dan has his way)!

Call Centers from Hell

So, our Kodak printer went on the fritz two days ago. Well, actually, it died. It refused to turn on after a few problems with the paper catching and printing. We looked online to fix the problem, followed the steps and nothing. This printer refused to turn on. ahhhh! So, the dreaded call to the call center in some foreign country. After being disconnected 4 times, I finally got through to the right area. "Your estimated wait time is 5 minutes." Okay! Not bad. Then, the inevitable elevator music started, interrupted every 30 seconds with the same 4 advertisements advertising their website help center (oh so helpful!!!). Five minutes passes and I get the message, "Your estimated wait time is 10 minutes." WHAT?!! I just waited five minutes! Now I have to wait longer? Honestly, sometimes these call centers do it to themselves. They make us wait longer than any normal human being should wait to talk to another human, aggravating us. No wonder people loose their cools while talking with the call center. Any way, another five minutes has passed and I get the message, "The next available service representative will take you call!" YAH!!! Then a few minutes pass and I get the message, "Your estimated wait time is 15 minutes!" Okay, now I'm going crazy! Finally, I get to talk to another human being...who barely speaks my language. On top of that, the phone system is terrible and I can barely hear them speak. Great!
Then the inevitable information exchange happens. You know, where you have to tell them your name, phone number, email address, address, security code, birth date and the length of your right arm. All the while having to spell out each letter with the "H as in Hotel" mode of information exchange. Then finally you get to tell them about why you are calling.
A: My printer won't turn on. I've tried the information on the web page and its still not working. The web told me that it can't be fixed and I need to call you guys.
TC(Tech center): Unplug the AC Adapter
A; uh...I've already tried that.
TC: Please remove the AC Adapter from the back of the printer.
A: Fine, but it doesn't work. We've tried. Okay, its unplugged.
TC: Now wait 30 seconds before...
A: Plugging it back in. I know. And then wait thirty seconds after plugging it back in before pressing the on button. I know. I've tried and it doesn't work.
(i humour the guy and do what he asks)
A: Nothing.
TC: Can you try a different outlet.
A: What good will that do. I get some lights on, but not the on/off light. A new outlet won't change that.
TC: Can you please try plugging it into a different outlet.
A: Okay. Nothing (I didn't move...I'm not stupid. A new outlet would change anything).
TC: Okay, then. Your printer is shot. You'll have to get a new one. Where and when did you purchase the printer.
A: It was gift and we got it last Christmas.
TC: So where was it purchased?
A: IT WAS A GIFT!
TC: Do you know where it was purchased?
A: NO! It was a gift.
TC: Okay. Then what I will need you to do, is send in a proof of purchase....
A: It was a GIFT. I have no proof of purchase. (can you sense my aggravation growing?)
TC: Well, do you think you could call up whoever gave it to you and get it from them.
A: Hmmm...NO!
By this time, I've lost my cool. I'm done talking to someone who doesn't understand what the word gift implies. Basically, after explaining what the word gift implies, he told me that there was nothing he could do for me. Knowing that I was under warranty still, I knew he had to replace the printer. So, I asked to speak to his supervisor.
TC: I'm sorry, there is no supervisor and nothing he can do for you. (hello, contradictory statement).
A: I would like to talk with your supervisor or manager please.
This conversation goes on for a while, until I ask him for another number to call so that I can talk with someone who will help me. He gives me the number for the tech center, which I currently am calling, to talk with him. I tell him I didn't want to talk with another person from the tech center. I want to talk with someone who can help me. He finally gives me the number for someone in Canada. the man on the other end of the Canadian line is understanding and promises to send me a new printer. Yah!

Now we start with a new day and a new attitude. I am surprised to receive my new printer in the afternoon. The delivery man says he took it off the plane an hour ago. Talk about service! (just a note..the service is good from DHL..NOT KODAK!) Anyway, I unpack my new printer to find a COMPLETELY different model. It doesn't look as nice and I'm worried that the cords aren't going to fit. Anyway, I call Kodak to sort this all out. And the aggravation starts again!
Once again I am forced to spell out my email address in the "H as in Hotel" form of communication. I got so frustrated that when I got to C it turned into "C as in Can you spell that?" I was tempted to turn "I into Idiot" but I refrained myself.
Then, I was put on hold so that he could look over my records. The elevator music began and in the background, I hear a strikingly familiar voice-my own! He was listening to the conversation I had with the other tech center man from yesterday. (Did I mention that I was quite forceful in my insistence to talk with a supervisor?) It was like reliving the pain from yesterday all over again! AWFUL! Once he was done listening to my conversation from yesterday (you know, recorded for quality assurance), he came back to talk with me.
Unfortunately, there was no record of my call with the nice man in Canada, so I had to explain to the man that I received the wrong printer. He assured me that this model is better since it has WiFi and more features. I wasn't going to fight with him. I'm so done talking with tech center people. I then proceeded to have to have to ask him for printer ink (the Canadian was supposed to send me a few), since there was none in my package and the brand new ink cartridges were full and stuck in my old printer. He told me that he could only send me one. Not a few. This makes me mad, but I'll let it go. But he offers me paper instead. I'll take what I can get.
Then I have to ask for a new printer head. The tech man tells me that he can't send that to me, since I should just use the old one. I tell him that I can't turn on my old printer, so he would need to send me a new one. He tells me that he will have to charge me for it. I refuse to pay and insist that he send me a new one.
Then there was the whole issue with my "case id number." That statement is apparently hard to say in his native language, coupled with the fact that his phone kept cutting out and he was hard to hear due to the lack of volume on his end. At the end of it all, we got things figured out. Probably until the next package arrives and I have to go through this all again.
Somewhere in the midst of all of this, I figured out that hell is probably being permanently stuck talking to someone in a call center.
Have I ever mentioned that I hate call centers? (its no wonder people just go out and buy a new item rather than use their warranty to replace the item).

Shopping is bad for my self esteem

Normally, I'm pretty happy with my body type. I don't find myself overweight (although I could stand to loose a few pounds). But whenever I go shopping, I begin to feel like a hippopotamus-monkey. Today I went to go find myself a winter jacket. I needed a new one, as the old one had worn thin and on Sunday, I found myself jammed in the jacket as the zipper failed. Since it was non-fixable (I had to actually cut myself out of the coat), and there was a bit of money left in the budget, I went in search of the perfect coat.
Now most woman get excited about shopping. Probably because they can go to the ladies section, find something cute in their size and go home. Not me! I start in the ladies section, and find the XL (which isn't really my normal size...I'm actually only a medium/large, depending on the size of the garment) and see if it will fit me. No such luck. I have broad shoulders and long monkey arms that refuse to fit into ladies clothing. (I actually get surprised when the sleeves reach my wrists)
So I'm off to the men's section. Now, not only do I have to find a size that will fit me (and some what flatter a Lady's figure), I have to find a design that can pass as feminine. This isn't that easy, especially when you are on a budget. So there was three coats in the one store that fit me. But two of them were manly patterns (and reminded me of the crazy walking dude on our street). So I had one choice. Just one. When I put it on, I felt like a hippopotamus. It felt large, which makes me feel large. This isn't good for a woman's self esteem.
I went to another store, and there was just ONE coat in my budget that fit. It's not too manly, and could pass as a unisex jacket. I feel okay in it. Sadly, I don't get to have much choice. I get to make do with what you can afford and what "fits."
Every time I go shopping I feel like this. Apparently, feeling like a woman is not for any one who is almost six feet tall. You get to feel large and like nothing is made for you. I always hear that I should "tailor" things. That would be great, but there isn't enough fabric to make the garment fit. I would need to find two items and sew them together!
There must be a reason my parents named me A-MAN-DA. Yep. I'm just a man stuck in a woman's body. Or, the textile world has neglected the tall woman. (aren't we considered models in the textile world? Something must be wrong.)
Meh. I guess I'll just stay away from the mall. It's better for my self esteem.

Christmas Cookies

Our care group decided to bake cookies and bring them to a few select people in the church. Mostly those with young kids, or people whom we knew the names of. We decorated cookies and then headed out in search of their homes.

It was surprising how thankful people were for such a simple gesture. We got comments such as, "I was craving something sweet and didn't have anything in the house! Thank you!" Or, "We were making lunches and realized there weren't any cookies or sweets. We are thankful for these cookies." Or my personal favorite was overheard as I answered the phone, "Mommy, can I please have another cookie?" Followed by a grateful parent.

As a care group, it was a fun opportunity to spend some time together, enjoying each others decorating skills (or lack there of). We enjoyed driving down the same road numerous times trying to find someones address. We liked guessing if people would answer the door at 9 or 10 at night to sometimes "strangers." We thought it was funny as we wondered if raccoons or dogs would eat the cookies if we left them on some one's door step since they weren't home (the recipient got them just fine). We relished in the requests for carol singing, yet spared everyone the horror. But most of all, we enjoyed the service experience. Spreading a little bit of cheer to people who didn't expect it.

Disfunctional Family Christmas

There is a lot of pressure at this time of year. Between shopping for the perfect gift, numerous family gatherings, Christmas Concerts, decorating the house, baking cookies, wrapping gifts and regular household duties, there lies the pressure to create the "perfect" Christmas. You know the one; full of happy faces, perfect meals, peaceful interactions-straight from the Hollywood movies. Somehow we assume that just because its Christmas, family interactions will somehow change, our finances will miraculously be fixed, people will cooperate, and the house will be decorated without any complaints or arguments. But often there is a chasm between our dreams and reality.
I remember for so many years, I dreamed of having that perfect family Christmas. But my reality was that my dad would watch TV until my mom told him firmly that it was time to start opening presents. This would begin the annual Christmas Eve argument, until one of them finally won out. Then, in a tension filled room, we would open our gifts and disperse as quickly as possible, only meeting in the kitchen to fill our plates with appetizers before heading to our own separate directions.
Then, our family dynamics changed when my parents separated. The second year after their divorce, I was working at the youth center, being somewhat bah hum bug about the upcoming holiday festivities when Al McLean, my supervisor advised the volunteers during our pre-meeting and prayer time that this time of year was often difficult for the youth. It wasn't always a happy time of year due to family difficulties or financial troubles. Dysfunctional families were often MORE problematic due to the stresses and pressure of the holiday season.
Somehow, knowing this, freed me from the dream of the perfect Christmas. That year, I decided I was going to enjoy my dysfunctional family Christmas. Here is an excerpt from my journal that year:
"Here's the scene: Owen is screaming and crying, ready to puke up anything that comes his way. Sarah is frustrated with Owen's crying and looks so dead monkey and ready to fall over at any time because she has the flu. Jon begs anyone with legs to get him shrimp and croquettes. Grandma babbles on and on about who knows what, and Mom rolls her eyes frustrated. Rachel is half naked, trying on every new outfit she got, including her princess attire. James has his paws clinging to my box of chocolates and we have a tug of war until I finally let him win, only to distract him with a toy and steal them back a few seconds later. Dan is sitting back, laughing at the hilarity of the situation and enjoying his first Christmas with my family. Aside from fighting with James for my chocolates, I just laugh. And Smile. I like dysfunctional family Christmas. Its everyone's personalities shining through. When we are dysfunctional, we get to be ourselves. No pretending to be nice, or acting perfect. Just being who we are and accepting each other for their quirks. That's dysfunctional family Christmas, and a perfect one at that." (2005)

Every year since I changed my perspective about Christmas, has been interesting. They all have had something go wrong (goodness knows, we have the 12 days of Christmas to celebrate, something is bound to go wrong). But along with changing my perspective, I've also changed my focus. Now Jesus has become focal, and all the rest can be what it may.

When I first started dating Dan (almost 4 years ago), I made him a deal that I would get to be bah hum bug one year and I would try my best to be happy the next. But he has been lucky. He has yet to suffer a bah hum bug year, except maybe that first year. We choose to celebrate Christmas, with all its dysfunctionalities, and let it be what it is: Christmas.

April did a sermon this week about discouragement. As she introduced her sermon, she relayed how she had been asked to talk about discouragement way back in September, but saved it for this week. She found it fitting to start the Advent season with a sermon on discouragement, as that is often a part of people's mindset at this time of year. While I was listening, I relayed it back to my dysfunctional family Christmas. Then I went a step further and realized that the whole Christmas story isn't all about peace and happiness. Its about struggling and feeling discouraged. I think Joseph found it a struggle to find a place to stay and discouraged when all he was offered was a stable. Didn't all those people know his wife was about to give birth to the Chosen One? And I'm sure Mary didn't find it peaceful giving birth to Jesus (just ask any woman about childbirth!) I find the entire story saturated with dysfunctionalities, lack of peace, frustrations and discouragement. Perhaps, we've injected our need for peace and happiness into the story (don't get me wrong, I know its there), but we have forgotten that its also full of dysfunctionalities.

This Christmas season, lets just enjoy the craziness. Forget that impossible dream of the "perfect" Christmas. Let's trust God and embrace the dysfunctionalities.

Something to make you giggle

While at church on Sunday, I saw a man (okay, it was Anthony), wearing a shirt that caused me to giggle. Instead of describing it, I googled it. So much better. Enjoy!

Some things are best left in the past

We all have those favorite childhood memories, you know playing in the park, eating a favorite meal, general tomfoolery and those things that just made you a kid. This month, we decided to relive some of those favorite meals, inspired mostly by Amanda's cravings (although only one meal was actually eaten by her as a child).
Meal #1: Flipper on a raft (aka homemade Tuna Helper on bread). For those of you who are wondering what this culinary delight might be, its basically homemade white sauce with tuna thrown in, spread over sliced bread and topped with cheese. Mmmmm! Or not. This was a favorite of Amanda's mother growing up, and sometimes was placed over cooked Mr. Noodles (dubbed Flipper in seaweed). Sounds great in theory, however when it came to actually consuming said meal, neither one of us thought too highly of the recipe. Dan detested it so much, he actually called Amanda's mother and proceeded to inquire where the recipe came from and why she would actually serve this to a child. I do believe I overheard the words "medieval torture devise" within the conversation.
Meal #2: Mac N Cheese...Whiz. (Dan's favorite growing up). Okay, seriously, Mac N Cheese Whiz is not good. Especially since Dan seems to think that mixing cheese whiz with milk somehow makes it better. Well, it doesn't. Traditionally Dan served this meal with a breaded chicken patty (we left it out) or with hot dogs (which may have added some much needed flavour).
The point of all this has been to show that some childhood memories are best left in the past. Especially the childhood culinary ones. When its got a name like Flipper on a raft or a main ingredient like cheese whiz, you should back away quickly. Do not make such meal. Nostalgia is not worth all the dry heaves and nauseousness, or questions like "Why did I just do this to myself?" Some things are just best to leave in the past.

So this is what being a parent is like...

Dan and I agreed (what are we insane??!?!) to keep the kids overnight last night. Their parents went to a concert and we had Bible study. The kids were fairly good, only coming out a few times to see what was going on. I had to go in a few times to break up fights, but what can you expect? They are little. They finally went to bed at about 10:30/11ish, which is not abnormal for them. (although, they were bouncing off the walls, and my eyes were drooping...) I had a good nights sleep, until....
5:45am. River wakes up screaming and crying. Something about his leg hurting. I never did find out what the problem was. I just tried to calm him down and keep him from waking up Cypress who is in the same room (probably a cardinal mistake on my part, but I'm still learning)
6am. Cypress wakes up crying, complaining that something hurts. I assume she wants some sympathy after hearing me with Rivs. Then the coughing starts. I pick her up to take her out of the room, so that River can sleep. As I'm picking her up, I feel this gross heave extirpating vomit onto my shoulders, back and hair. By this time, I know what's happening and make a run for the bathroom. I stand her in front of the toilet and instruct her to barf in it. Meanwhile, I'm peeling off my shirt to keep the vomit from dripping all over the place (needless to say, there is a nice trail from her room to the bathroom). She vomits again...but instead of her aiming for the toilet, she turns her head at the last minute and it ends up all over the floor and the bath mat. Gross! We clean her up, change her shirt and put her to bed. Dan and I spend the next 15 minutes removing barf from our floor and bedsheets. We go back to bed, tired yet very awake. We are just about asleep when at
6:30am I hear Cypress complaining that her tummy hurts. I run to her room, just in time to grab a blanket to catch her vomit. I yell at Dan to run and grab a bucket. (he walks) It's dripping through the blanket (which is still wrapped around her), and into my hands. Finally, Dan gets the bucket to me and we yet again clean up. I instruct Cypress to vomit into the bowl if she needs to barf again. I ask Dan to get a towel to put under the bowl (see, I'm getting smart), while I settle her down. We both head back to bed. We are just about asleep when at
7 am I hear her start to gag. Up it all comes, this time in the bucket. But she is screaming. When I finally calm her down to understand her, I realize that she is upset, because the vomit is on her chin. I wipe that up and head back to bed. I'm just about asleep (do you sense a pattern here?) when at
7:30am. She does it again. A quick run to help and an equally quick cleanup and we all head to bed. I'm just about asleep and at
8am. She's gagging again. No barf, thankfully. Just not feeling good. Then River wakes up. He's doing fine until he starts to cough. I grab the bucket and in the barf goes....well at least most of it. It kinda splashed everywhere. Another bed spread into the laundry. It doesn't help that his diaper was all out of place and he wet through the bed. Yippee!

Needless to say, that's the last barf we've had so far. It's currently 10:30am. I'm on my third load of laundry (and there are at least 2 more). Oh the joys. I think at about 6am this morning Dan and I had a conversation that went something like this:

Amanda: So, this is what having kids is like.
Dan: We are NEVER having kids.
Amanda: Nope, never.
Dan leans in to snuggle up next to Amanda.
Amanda: Are you kidding me? Get away from me! No kids! EVER!

I think our sleep loss led to this but, needless to say. If' you're going to practise, you may as well have a bad experience. If you can make it out alive, I think you're ready to go forth and multiply....but maybe not until this experience is forgotten.

A cop a day, keeps the criminal away

Or should we say, a cop a minute keeps the criminal away.
We went to return a video to the video store tonight, an eight minute return trip. We literally counted eight cop cars passing by us in that eight minute trip. It doesn't really make the neighbourhood feel any safer. In fact, in this town, it makes you wonder if there is a Bacon Brother running loose. Lets just hope that the cops catch who they are looking for, and that no one gets caught in the crossfire.

H1N1 and the line from Hell

Generally, I have found that there are three different ways that people have responded to the H1N1 flu shot.
1. The "I want the flu shot and I want it now. And I will do whatever it takes to get it" person
2. The "I'm not afraid of the flu, and I'm not sure about the safety of the vaccine, so I'm not going to get it" person
3. The "I'm only getting the shot, because.....I have kids, I have a pre-existing condition etc...." type person

Unfortunately, the type that you meet in the H1N1 line are the number one, aggressive type person. Last week, I took both kids (age 2 and 3) to get the flu shot as their parents requested. Let me say that taking two kids to stand in line for 2.5 hours is not my cup of tea. But then, the line from HELL made it that much worse. I took the kids to Mission, since there was no clinic in Abbotsford that the kids would qualify for (their clinic happened a week earlier, when the kids didn't qualify). People in line, were getting angry and aggressive. They kept saying, "This line is for Mission residents ONLY! People should stay in their own city and get the shot." Unfortunately, not every city had a place for a flu shot, so others would retaliate in angry outbursts. The Health Nurse came around to answer questions, and remove people from line who didn't qualify. Only, she didn't come alone. She came with a body guard. On top of that, there were times in the 2.5 hours that I waited in line, in which I needed to leave the line to gather the children to keep them safe from a delivery truck that was driving by. When I would return to my place in line, people would get angry and refuse to let me back in line. They would force me to the back of the line. I would play oblivious, since there was no way I was going to wait one extra minute in that line. By the time the kids actually got their shot, I was done. We ran out of snacks about an hour into the line, and we were hungry. And tired. Let's put it this way, I felt like going crazy. I laughed when Cypress got the shot, cuz I was DONE!
Needless to say, the next day Cypress got a high fever....a reaction to the shot. Two days later, River came down with a high fever. Now, we all have colds. Probably got them from standing in line with hundreds of other people. (so much for avoiding "close contact" with people who are sick..a slight oversight on the organizers part).

Walking and the Weather

Walking in this weather can be fun. Dan and I were walking home in the pitch black since the power went out around town. It was fun to walk with the wind screeching by and the rain dumping down. Dangerous at times.....some people still don't understand four way stops or that some people are crazy enough to walk in the wind and rain.....but fun.
On Saturday afternoon, I went to the mall to quickly pick something up before returning home. It was pouring and my umbrella broke on the way to the mall. (the handle came off and it refused to open). I decided to take the bus home, since the heavens decided to open up and dump rain like the world was ending. I ran to the bus, only to have an elderly gentleman take his sweet time to close his umbrella and get on the bus. So, needless to say, I was drenched. Happy (since I found the whole rain dumping on me quite humorous), but drenched. Anyway, as the bus starts to drive, I notice that there are fish tails about 10 feet tall coming straight out from the wheels of the bus. I haven't seen any fish tails that huge since I've been in a large boat. I actually joked that I didn't know if we were on a boat or a bus. Then, we passed this man in a bus shelter. The rain dumping on his head and then, to add insult to injury, a 10 foot wave of water splashed on him from either wheel of the bus. The man, was wet. Sorry to the man, but it was hilarious. From the front of the bus, I hear the driver giggling. He said, "I moved over as far as I could, but there was nothing I could do." (I must interject and say that this driver has a good sense of humour, as earlier this week he drove right past me at the bus stop, only to stop about 200 meters away with the comment, "I've always wanted to do that!") The driver continued to giggle and so did a few others (including me) on the bus. It was like a bunch of elementary school kids after someone farted. Giggles followed by controlled silence, and then bursts of laughter. I eventually got off at my stop and noticed a HUGE puddle that the bus needed to drive through. I know that after laughing at the man who got drenched, I probably deserved to be soaked as well. But I'm a smart cookie and waited a great distance from the puddle, so as not to get wet. I even had to run half a block (or the length of the puddle) so that a passing car wouldn't give me the same fate as the drenched man.
I love this weather. Sometimes though, it doesn't love me.

Yep! I'm one of those...

Nancy, the lady I nanny for, gave me a new Little People Schoolhouse toy this week, as a gift for me and for her children to enjoy while at my house. On Monday, I brought it into the house and had Dan take it out of the box. While Dan was taking it out of the box, he also removed the batteries (since everything on the toy, also served as a button that made some sort of annoying noise.) Yep, I'm one of those. I have the "no toys with noise" rule in our house. There is something that makes my nerves cringe every time I hear a fake sounding "vroom" coming from truck, rather than a child. I hate listening to the alphabet song-you know the one. A-B-C-D. A-B. A-A-A-A-A. I don't think I have ever heard the song all the way through, since the children keep pressing the button repeatedly. (perhaps, that's just one reason why I hate toys that make noise!) Nancy tells me that she believes that the toys educate the children. My response is threefold. Yes. It does educate them. At pressing buttons. (not really, what I think she was going for). Secondly, isn't that my job to educate them as their nanny? And perhaps her job as their mother? Thirdly, my personal observation. Nancy's house is full of toys with noise. When we are at their house, all I hear is the toys making noise. The children aren't talking. While at my silent toyed house, I hear the children. They are talking, and using their imagination to tell stories and make the noises that animals/cars etc. make.
It's just a personal choice. If others choose to have a household full of toys that make noise, then so be it. I have no qualms about that. But personally, I prefer that batteries are never included. Okay, that's not entirely true. There are a "few" toys that make noise that I wouldn't mind owning in the future (such as the word whammer or the fridge phonics from Leapfrog, and perhaps a nice ocean wonders aquarium that sings the baby to sleep) But I guess my biggest "rule" is that I don't the toy to make a noise that the child should be able to make (like a truck that goes vroom). I don't really want the toy to interfere with the child's imaginative play.
I was talking with some other people my age that grew up without noisy toys. The one mentioned that her parents finally broke down and bought her a baby doll that 'drank milk and peed.' She said it was fun for a while, but then that doll got tossed aside because it didn't fit in with her imaginative play. She couldn't make the baby do what she wanted it to, because it was only useful for one thing (okay two: drinking and peeing).
Most of us grew up in the age where toys didn't include batteries or made noise of any sort. And I do believe that most of us turned out fine. I hope to raise my children in an atmosphere where toys don't need to make noise to be fun. Or need batteries. Do you know how hard it is to find toys like that? Dan and I went looking for a car for a seven year old boy (his brother) that didn't require a remote control. We found one. Just one. (this may have something to do with the fact that Abbotsford seems to lack toy stores and the fact that almost every toy requires batteries). It was rather disappointing. Perhaps a good baby shower gift would be a large pack of batteries in varying sizes.
I may be "one of those." But I'm proud of that. And I love the children's voices as they use their imagination to make up stories as they play. Perhaps that's why Nancy is taking back her gift and exchanging it for one that doesn't make any noise. For that, I am extremely grateful.

A simple thought (or two)

I was thinking the other day. If men did what their wives asked, we wouldn't need to nag them. Therefore, its the men's fault that we wives nag. They should have just done what we asked them to do in the first place and then wouldn't the nagging stop?
(side note: we don't really have this problem in our marriage, since Dan is a good listener! And, since I told him this thought. He agrees that I wouldn't have to nag him if he listened the first time.)

Second thought: Am I the only person in the entire world who doesn't know how to make KD without reading the directions? I made the kids Kraft Dinner today and the little girl (who is 3)got mad at me. Don't you know how to make it? No! I don't. The first time I ever had KD, I was a teenager. And to be honest...it was gross! In fact, it still is gross (especially when smothered in Ketchup). It was interesting that i didn't even know macaroni came in a box until I was a teen. My mother always made it from scratch. And now, I make it from scratch (you know, real ingredients like flour, margarine and hark! real cheese) So, sorry I don't know how to make it.

Sunday Community

Yesterday in church, I saw something that made me smile. Actually, I think it made a lot of people smile. About half way through April's sermon, an elderly East Indian gentlemen walked into the sanctuary and sat down in one of the pews in the middle of the church. He listened intently as April talked about poetry, the arts and Christianity. (at least I think that's what she talked about. Sorry April, but this event kind of made me lose my focus and therefore forget what you talked about). At the end of the sermon, which had a slight focus on giving (as it was Thanksgiving), so we were asked to bring up our offerings of money, food for the food bank and items we had brought from home that we are thankful for (eg. baskets of nuts, quilts, sketch pads). April talked about how in the African tradition, if someone didn't have anything to bring forward, someone would give the empty handed something that they brought. Everyone would then be able to bring an offering forward. She asked us to do the same and share with those who didn't bring anything or forgot to bring something. The little children came and sang a song that goes something like this, "There's enough for all, if we would learn to share it. There's more than enough for you and me..." As the children sang, the entire congregation got up and came forward bringing their money, food and items of thankfulness. I personally saw many people share what they brought with others who didn't have any. But the thing that warmed my heart the most, was seeing this elderly East Indian gentleman get up and bring forth his offering. I saw him take his money and throw wads of bills into the basket. I couldn't believe that this visiting man would take part in this part of the service (as this isn't mandatory among visitors). After the service, I sought out this man. I wanted to know his story and what brought him to church this Sunday morning. I overheard him talking about how this couple invited him into church. He left the church quickly before I had a chance to talk with him, as the couple who invited him whisked him away. But I love how the Indo-Canadian community is mixing with the community at Emmanuel. (I even found out that a bench was erected outside the church for the elderly East Indians who sit outside the church every day.) I think it would be fantastic to mix the two cultures. It would also be a challenge as we figure out how to integrate a new culture into the church, without making them feel unwelcome. We have been talking a lot about community at Emmanuel and what makes a community. Perhaps this should be a part of the discussion. It's an exciting journey we have begun!

Self-Check Out Lines and....

your marriage. They don't seem to mesh very well. Last week, we met up with a group of young marrieds from the church and this topic came up. It's been said that a couple should be able to "wallpaper a room before you get married." I believe that the new task should be going through a self check out line together. Stories arose from personal experience and from the other young couples such as:
- Some one wants to scan the product, and that can turn to a fight over who gets to do it.
-The other randomly hits the weight scale with the grocery bags on it and it overrides the purchase.
-You chose gala apples rather than granny smith (then your partner throws a fuss about it and criticizes you)
- One person thinks that an item is scanned and it hasn't been (it gets worse when its put in the shopping bag)

These are some examples of the things that go wrong. But somehow they are worse when the person you love points out a flaw, or messes things up for you. It becomes easy to blame your spouse, rather than take personal responsibility. I believe that couples can make it through self-check out, they can make it through anything. If not, just go to the cashier. It'll save your marriage.

It's just one of those days

Today is one of those days when everything seems to be going wrong. It's not catastrophic or anything, but rather all those little annoyances that seem to add up. My day began okay, until I dropped the bottle of bleach. Twice. It didn't shatter or cause a bleached mess on the floor. But it did happen to splash onto my pants ruining them instantly. (and this is huge for me, because theses pants are actually long enough and a perfect fit.....so sad!) Then, the children decided that their ears didn't work today. Anything I said turned into them doing the exact opposite. How frustrating! But those kids didn't end there. They decided to fight and jump on one another. It was so bad that I had to separate them and put them on opposite couches, threatening them with some sort of punishment if they moved. All the while that the kids were fighting, did I mention that I was up to my armpits in bun dough? I finally got all that settled, lunch into the children and some buns in the oven. Then, I proceeded to burn two pans of buns (the oven HATES me), and set off the fire alarm and waking up the children. Then, the youngest kid decided that sleep was no longer an option and it was play time. I don't think so! It's only 1pm! I finally got him settled, only to have him woken up by the fire alarm again! AHHHHHH!!!!! I can only wonder what will happen next! Oh, and did I mention that I'm totally hormonal? Just adds to the wonderful day that seem to be having.

My Walk to Church

This morning's walk to church was very pleasant. It was one of those brisk fall mornings where the sun was gently peaking through the clouds. Absolutely gorgeous! But on top of the wonderful weather, the people I saw seemed to be overly friendly. I met three beautiful young East Indian woman, who were walking on the opposite side of Clearbrook Road. I flashed a smile, and one lady yelled a friendly hello from across the street. About 200 meters behind them, an elderly gentlemen (also of the East Indian descent), gave a friendly wave, not wanting to miss out on the cordial greetings of the morning. When I finally got to church, an elderly East Indian woman met me at the entrance to the parking lot, gave a kind hello, a word of blessing and a hug. I gave a word of blessing back, as I gave her a nice squeeze. I love mornings like that!

Becoming MORE Christian

Growing up in Church as a young child, we were taught that you are either a Christian or not a Christian. There were tracts and classes based on "how to know that I am saved." We tended to need assurance that we were "in." We wanted constant reassurance that we were Christians.
But as time went on, I learned differently.(A special thanks to Rob and Iona Snair, directors of Lifeteams: School of Urban Youth Outreach, for changing my worldview. You guys aren't crazy!) I learned that Christianity isn't that black and white all the time. Its about a journey to "become more Christian." (thanks to Doug Lowney for that terminology). Its about learning to relate to God, to change behaviors and thought patterns to line up with that of Christ's. This isn't an overnight change, it takes time.
When I was doing youth work, a fellow worker, Chris Hyslop always said, "It isn't our job to tell people how to be Christians. It is our job to introduce people to Jesus." Christianity looks different among individuals. Some Christians smoke, others don't. It's not my job to tell someone that it is right or wrong to smoke as a Christian. (The same goes for swearing, speeding, relationships etc.). They will be convicted and be drawn to the right conclusions in time. (and yes, i do realize there is a place for correction when someone goes wayward, but let's leave that for those who are "Christians" and not for those who are still discovering Christ. No one wants to become a Christian and realize that there are a million "rules" to follow.) It is our duty to introduce people to Jesus. To allow them to journey with Christ.
Over time, I have found that Christianity is a journey. We are forever turning towards and away from God, being close and being far. It isn't always about crossing the line, praying the prayer, being on the inside. Last Sunday, April spoke a sermon on "Jesus as the Center." She talked about different worldviews, or sets, that there are in relation to this. Here's a bit of an overview.

Bounded Set: This set is about creating tangible boundaries. Picture a circle with an x in it. Outside the circle is a Y. In this set, you are either in or out. You are either Christian (x) or not Christian (y). There is no grey area. (this is what i believed as a child)

Centered Set: Jesus is the center of this set. You can either be close or far from the center and you can either be moving towards or further away from the center. Picture a star, which represents Jesus. There is both an X and a Y. One is close and the other farther away. One is moving towards the star and the other moving away from the star. This set allows us to be "close with God" or "far from God," moving towards a relationship with Him, or turning away from Him.

Bounded/Centered Set: This is a mixture of the two sets. Jesus is in the center of the circle. The X is inside the circle, and the Y is outside. But the X is moving away from the center and the Y is moving towards the center. This set allows the analogy of the journey, moving towards or away from God. But also places the boundaries on it, with a Christian or non-Christian distinction.

Scripture seems to allow for both sets, the distinction of Christian versus Non-Christian (sheep verses goats) and the analogy of the journey of being close to God or turning away from God. Therefore, we should be embracing the Bounded/Centered Set.

When listening to this sermon, I was struck by the embracing of both sets. I, personally have been leaning towards the centered set in the last 6 years or so. But have come to realize that I like both sets together. There is a distinction of Christian verses non-Christian. But personally, i think that God should be the one making that ultimate distinction, not ourselves. We need to striving to become "more Christian," and move in the direction of Christ. Our focus should be on our relationship with Christ. On Judgement Day, He will let us know if we are a sheep or a goat, if we knew God or didn't know God. But let's strive to BECOME MORE CHRISTIAN, and move closer to God, however that looks.

Let the rain begin!

Dan and I took our first walk in the rain the other day. It was refreshing! Felt like fall, making me feel all hezzelic inside.
Pardon my "Dutch" there, but I can't seem to find a better word in the English language. Hezzelic translates, in my limited Dutch knowledge, to roughly mean atmosphere, coziness, warmth, warm fuzzies, overall goodness. Picture a cold winter's night, curled up with the one you love, next to a fireplace, drinking your hot cocoa, reading a good book. That's hezzelic. Or warm soup on a brisk Sunday afternoon, with fresh baked buns, followed by a nap on the couch. (okay, that's really a Dutch thing, but hopefully you get my drift).
Walking in the rain is wonderful and hezzelic....but only for a while. Then it turns into the winter blahs. But for right now, I enjoy it. I like it. It can continue. The rain doesn't bother us walkers that much. Although the torrential downpours can soak you in a few minutes. But overall, the rain doesn't affect me. It can continue, but hopefully only for a while. Then again, a nice sunny day would be refreshing.

Beyond the volunteer requests, I'm seeking relationships here

There is something I don't understand. And I don't want to be mean when I say this, as it is simply an observation that frustrates me. So, please don't take offence at it (this is not against anyone personally), but perhaps take this into consideration for the future.
Dan and I have been attending Emmanuel Mennonite church for a year and a half now. And I feel like a stranger in the church. I recognize people, but do not (and cannot for the life of me) remember their names. But they seem to know me. Perhaps that because of the family connection, or perhaps they only had to learn 2 names, and I have to learn hundreds, but its frustrating to feel like this. We still don't feel like we have connected with any one in the church (except for a few choice people whom we can count on one hand). I feel comfortable in the church, but not with its members. We still feel like visitors, rather than a part of the family. Like outsiders, rather than insiders. But oddly enough, this is not the frustration at which i want to rant at here.
I am frustrated that I have gotten calls from people, whom I may or may not recognize, that want me to volunteer for something. The volunteering itself isn't the frustrating thing. Its the fact that people are asking me to do something when I really don't know who they are. It angers me to think that its okay for people to "request" my time to volunteer, but won't take the time to get to know me. Personally, I would choose to get to know someone first and find out their passions, gifting and abilities, before asking them to volunteer for something. The last thing you want is a person who hates kids helping in the nursery.
But even beyond the on slot of calls I've received asking me to volunteer, I wholeheartedly wish we knew people better. I often feel intimidated walking up to someone new and starting a conversation, yet I constantly do. Nevertheless, I feel like I still don't know anyone. I am seeking friends, deep relationships, people that are willing to go beyond the "hi, how are ya?" I would love us to be able to call up friends to meet for dinner or hang out. I'm tired of feeling lonely every Sunday when I'm surrounded by hundreds of people. Please stop the volunteer requests, and get to know us. We'd be happy to help, once we know who you are.

Isobelle Gunn

House of James has concerts Friday or Saturday nights. Normally we don't pay much attention to the ads for those who are playing, but for whatever reason, yesterday we read the ad in the morning paper. Glancing at the ad, one name stood out: Jacob Moon. Jacob Moon is one of our favorite musicians. He is an extremely talented guitar player and vocalist. Upon closer inspection it looked like he was going to be playing that night. A little puzzled as to why we didn't get any of the usual e-mails regarding his concerts we decided to go anyway and see if he was there.
When we got there and had a look at who all was sitting around, it became obvious that Jacob wasn't there, but having paid to come we decided to stay. Settling in with our coffee and books we were treated to an evening of amazing music by two different groups: The Carriers and Isobelle Gunn. The opening act, The Carriers, were a local group who are just getting started in the music industry and while their stage presence and relationship with the audience is still coming along their talent musically speaking was amazing.
The main attraction for the evening was Isobelle Gunn which is a trio from Ontario. As the band explained, the name Isobelle Gunn was the name of a real lady who lived in the early 18th century and was a Scottish immigrant to Canada. Upon arriving she wanted to work for the HBC but being a woman, wasn't allowed. Being of the that stubborn Scottish nature, she didn't take no for an answer and disguised herself as a man. It worked for a couple of years until she gave birth and was found out. They said that they liked the name for the juxtaposition of the beauty of the name Isobelle and the harshness of Gunn, as well as that she was Canadian too. They also enjoyed the name for the expectations that that it raised and broke. When you hear the name Isobelle Gunn, you expect a beautiful woman to walk up alone to the stage. Instead there are two women and a man.
The group formed a few years ago and have done quite well for themselves. They are incredibly talented in terms of musical performance and vocally just as much. Their lyrics are just amazing, being well thought out, beautiful, deep, and actually give you something to think about as well.
When they were finished we decided that we liked them enough to by the two CD's they have come out with so far. Looking at the CD's we found where the whole Jacob Moon thing came from; he plays on over half the songs on their latest CD! Apparently they are good friends and when they get back to Ontario they are going to tour with him. Talking to the band after was wonderful. They are down to earth people and very interesting to talk to. We hope to see them again in Abbotsford and maybe with Jacob Moon as well.

Free Food Sunday!

Isn't it great that when the grocery money runs out, God provides Free Food Sunday!?!?
For lunch we ate our way home from church, enjoying East Indian delicacies and a festival to boot. For dinner, we get to enjoy a BBQ put on by Columbia Bible College, to welcome new students and their families. Since Dan (and my mom) are both taking courses, we will partake in the celebrations. Thank the Lord for Free Food Sundays! What could be better than free food, never mind a whole day of it?

Sikh Festival of Unity

Today is one of our favorite days during the year. We look forward to today, like a young child anticipates Christmas. Today is the Sikh Festival. We enjoy eating our way home from Church. The generosity is overwhelming. We couldn't walk more than 10 steps without someone encouraging us to eat food. If we refused, they push a plate towards your hands anyway. A polite refusal is NOT something they understand in their culture. We have gotten used to this over the years, and come prepared to share in the meal.

Another reason we love the Sikh festival is we enjoy participating in a cultural event. We like experiencing new things and are trying to understand people that come from a different culture than our own.

We love watching the beautiful colours and faces that pass by us. The crowds are enormous. People come from Surrey, Vancouver and all over the Fraser Valley to take part in this festival. The crowds, along with a few floats, walk from the Sikh Temple, to Rotary Stadium and back again.

One thing we find particularly interesting is the reverence they have for their Holy Book. They purify the street with "Holy Water" before the float carrying their Holy Book can grace the street. No one may pass over the cleansed spot until the Holy Book has passed by. This year, we were pleasantly surprised to have this man pictured with Dan (Gurvan???), ask if we would like an explanation of the festival. We agreed. He explained that years ago(404 years!), the head Gurus, (those at the top of the caste system) decided that there should no longer be a caste system. No one should be considered above or below anyone else. They shall all be one. They are all equals now, and thus separated from the Hindu religion and formed the Sikh religion. This festival celebrates the fact that the "city is all one."

We found this to be very similar to the Christian worldview that we are all equals (neither Jew nor Greek etc), and that we are one in the Spirit. What a day that would be if the city was all "one in the Spirit." We found it fascinating that one woman tried to explain the festival in Christian terms. "Its like your Bible, our Holy Book." When we asked what her Holy Book was called, she kept relaying information back to us in terms we could understand. (Talk about cultural relevance!)

Overall it was a fantastic experience! We learned a lot, enjoyed great food and watched a cultural festival. We got to talk with many different people, both old and young. We are already anticipating next years event!

You don't see this everyday!

While driving down Fraser Hwy yesterday, we saw a young girl riding a horse and texting. I've heard of texting and driving but that was over the top. If only we could have gotten a picture! I can already see the accident report and the girl trying to explain her way out of it. "It's not my fault! The horse has a mind of its own!" You truly don't see that everyday.

Something must be wrong...

My Rhubarb Coffee Cake isn't burnt. No, wait! My oven MUST be working again!!! YIPPEE!!! I am super-excited that the oven is working again. I hate wasting food and we've been eating burnt bread for a month now and probably will continue to do so for another month, until its all used up. But from here on in, unless there is some sort of default of my own, we will have no-burnt food and properly cooked food! Who knew an oven would cause so much frustration?? and so much joy? And now, I'm going to enjoy that rhubarb coffee cake while its still warm!

My Squirrel Tendancies

Around this time of year, every year since I've married Dan (and a few years before then), I find myself with squirrel tendencies. You know what I'm talking about. Storing things up for the winter. I find myself baking bread and buns, making casseroles, soups and many meals that I can freeze and use later. I find this saves me so much time and money. When I'm tired from a long day at work, I can come home and pull out a frozen meal instead of calling for take-out or dragging myself through making a meal. Plus, I can make healthy meals full of summer veggies without paying a premium for the vegetables.
Currently our freezers are stock piled with quite a few meals. I've got cabbage rolls (3 meals worth!), borscht, hamburger soup, chili, chicken noodle soup, lasagna, spaghetti casserole, homemade frozen pizza, and ham pot pie. I make enough to feed a small army with each meal and then portion it out into family portions. This way, I can feed unexpected guests or have leftovers for Dan and me. I still need to make refried beans and Mexi-wraps, but those are easy to make in the crock pot in a few weeks when I have room in the freezer to store them.

Am I in Hell?

Nope! I'm just standing too close to my oven. It runs 75 degrees hotter than it should! This oven has been a battle for me ever since we moved in. The landlord is dealing with the situation, but I'm still perturbed at it. We got the temperature within a 5-10 degree range of what it should be. (and we learned a new skill...anybody else with this problem? We know how to fix it!)
So, I figured that since the temperature is fixed, baking bread would be okay. So yesterday, I did my mass bread baking (20 loaves) and buns as well. I put my first 6 loaves in the oven, and was very excited to see that the tops of the loaves were a perfect golden brown. As I pulled out the bread, my fire alarm went off. I removed the bread from the pans to find CHARCOAL BLACK bread. It was burnt!! So, I turned the oven down 50 degrees and tried again. This time the next 6 loaves, were uncooked on the top and burnt on the bottom. I am baffled.
Out of the 20 loaves of bread, I got 3 that aren't burnt and are cooked properly (And two of those I put in the toaster oven!) This is driving me nuts! But within 10 minutes, the oven technician (who knew they even existed?) will be here to hopefully fix my oven or say its dead so that I can get a new one. I just hope to get this figured out. I may be one woman who truly struggles to live without her oven. I'm a "cooking from scratch" kinda lady. Am I in hell? No! I've just got a troubled oven.


An Update: The temperature control needs to be replaced. Apparently, the oven temperature is wonky since it goes up and down by 50 degrees during its cycle and this causes burnt food. So Friday the new part comes and we'll have a working oven!!

"Hey! I like you wagon!"

That comment caught our attention while we were shopping in Pricesmart this past week. People seem to be curious about us and the wagon. "So, did you walk here?" We always respond, "YES! When you choose not to own a car, you need to get creative in your transportation. " People usually comment that the yard works cart is nicer than a shopping cart, or how ingenious we are to use the wagon. Or they ask if Dan pulls me in the wagon on the way home if I'm tired (which he doesn't).
It never really surprises us anymore that people make comments or stare at us. Often when walking down South Fraser Way, people (complete strangers) honk at us and wave! Sometimes we think that we have a reputation around town and people are comforted seeing us and feel like they know us. When in reality, all we do is walk everywhere. But there is this sense of community in our town.
People are curious about our lifestyle and want to know how we live without a car. Really, its not that complex. We have two feet and a heartbeat, a Yard works wagon. There are no other options. We don't own a car, and don't really care to bum rides from people all the time. We are adults who've made a choice to live without a vehicle. You just make do. You need groceries, so you get them. You want coffee from Starbucks, so you walk. Its just the way life is. At times its inconvenient, but mostly interesting. The conversations you have, the people you meet and the memories you make as you walk along.

The Jacket off his back

Last week I got to take G-ma D. to the eye doctor in New Westminster. She had one appointment in the morning and one in the afternoon. We spent most of the morning wandering around, drinking our Starbucks and then stopped at McDonalds for lunch.
During lunch, there was a man next to us that seemed to be talking quite a bit. Grandma asked me if he was talking to himself. I told her, "No. He's talking to the man behind me." She laughed and then told me that she couldn't see him since I blocked her view. So, in my regular silly fashion, I bent over to and fro and then turned around and said, "See Grandma, there's a guy here."
Then I noticed his jacket. It was nice and I thought it would look nice on my husband and I wanted to find out where he bought it. I complemented the man (I like complimenting older gentlemen. I think that they think that they are fashionable when a young lady says that she likes their clothes. I usually do like their clothes, since Dan looks good in old man fashions.) The man and I chatted a few minutes about where he got his jacket (a thrift store) and how disappointed I was that it wasn't in a store (cuz i can't buy one for Dan) before i turned back to Grandma.
A few moments later, he stood next to us. He asked me, "How big is your husband?" I was a little shocked. He rephrased his question, "Do you think that this jacket would fit him? Cuz he can have it." I told him that my husband has broader shoulders and longer arms, but thanks for the generosity. He insisted that my husband may have the jacket. I refused, grateful and shocked by his insistent generosity. Then he surprised me some more. He asked, if the jacket would fit me and if I would like it. I gratefully refused stating my monkey arms wouldn't fit.
The conversation continued and I got the feeling that this man was a Christian trying to live out the Christian love. My suspicion was confirmed when at the end he gave us tracts (I guess our agreeing with church and everything else wasn't enough to confirm our own faith..or maybe he just likes tracts.)

I found it utterly refreshing to meet a complete stranger who was willing to give the jacket off his back to two woman whom he just met. He expressed his gratefulness for the opportunity to meet us, saying that it was a divine intervention and that God had placed many things together so that we would meet that day. I had to agree. It was a pleasant conversation, that reminded me of Christ's call for generosity.

It got me thinking. Would I be willing to give the jacket off my back? Or more than that? Dan and I try our best (although we often fail) to live a life filled with generosity. We love to give to others, especially food since we have both been gifted in that area. (Tomatoes or Rhubarb anyone?) We have realized that everything we "own" is God's and should be used to glorify him. It is not really ours and rather it should be shared. We are really good at this with our friends, but are we good at sharing when it comes to strangers? Would we extend that same generosity to someone we've just met? I hope so. Its a constant reminder to me that we need to share and be generous.

As my nephew said (he was 4 at the time), when I received chocolate for my birthday, "You have to share. Jesus likes it when we share." What do you say to that? Needless to say, sharing does make Jesus happy. And it makes me happy too.

Fruit Thieves

Warning to the residents of Abbotsford (especially those living in the Clearbrook area). There are two fruit thieves roaming the town. The come unexpectedly, and often at night. They seek fresh, and somewhat organic fruit, straight from the trees or vines. They prefer grapes and plums, but will often seek out apples as well. Be aware that they are neither armed nor dangerous, but if challenged will offer some sort of pie or preserve in exchange for the fruit that they are thieving. Abbotsford residents, you have been warned!

House and Home

We all know the saying "home is where the heart is." But what happens when home doesn't feel like home anymore? It happened when we were coming home from our trip at the beginning of the month. As we came back to Abbotsford, I (Dan) had this overwhelming feeling of disappointment at coming home. Now this wasn't the usual sadness at coming at the end of a trip; rather it was a feeling of depression, if you will, at the thought of Abbotsford. I don't mean to say that this is a bad town to live (despite the Bacon brothers attempts to prove otherwise) but it has lost its attraction and pull over me.
Amanda and I have both discussed more than a few times the thought of moving to a small town somewhere out of the grip of the Fraser Valley. Be it up north in a town like Smithers or Vanderhoof, or over on the island. We long for the relaxed way of life and generosity that seems to come inherent with small towns. A quick story to prove the point: at the wedding (in Smithers) while talking to another guest he told of how while camping on the brides parents farm his sons went out quading. Unfortunately they didn't have enough quads, but the father of the bride said not to worry, that the neighbors had a quad that he could use. He then proceeded to tell him where the shop was, where in the shop the quad and key were, and that the neighbor wouldn't mind that he borrowed the quad without even needing to ask.

Credo of a Peaceful Traveller

"Journey with an open mind and a gentle heart. Accept with grace and gratitude the diversity I encounter. Revere and protect the natural environment which sustains all life. Appreciate all cultures I discover. Respect and thank my hosts for their welcome. Offer my hand in friendship to everyone I meet. Support travel services which share these views. By my spirit, words and actions, encourage others to travel the world in peace." --International Institute for Peace through Tourism

(found in New Hazelton, BC. August 2009)

Dutch Bingo

It continually surprises me that everywhere I travel in this crazy world, there seems to be someone who knows someone who knows someone I know. In the Dutch world, we call this "Dutch Bingo." It is highly regarded among the Dutch Community and among the first "game" that we play when we meet people.
For example, when we were in Wells, we stayed at a Hotel which had a hot tub on the roof. Dan and I went up one night to check it out. We ended up meeting this couple from the Okanagan. We did the name introductions, as well as where we were from. Then it started. We are from Abbotsford, where their kids when to Columbia Bible College. A few more connections, and we discovered that their last name is Vegt. Then I asked the question, "Do you happen to know Margo and Bert Vegt?" BINGO. "Bert is my brother" was their reply. Its these types of connections that remind me that the world is a smaller place than I think it is.
Today, at church, April (our pastor) was talking about unity. She read a passage from Ephesians 4:1-6, which emphasizes the need to keep the unity of the Spirit. April read a quote that someone from Mennonite World Conference said about the same passage which stuck with me. "Unity is not something that is created, but something that must be maintained."
It amazes me that the first thing that we do when we meet people is try to find something in common so that we can continue on in conversation. Instead of dividing ourselves, we try to unite ourselves. We want to remain in community with people, even if it is only temporary (like the couple in Wells). But unity is not something that we have to create. The Spirit has already created it, we just need to maintain it. Hence, the reason we should play more Dutch Bingo.

"What are you looking at?"

On Saturday night (after we had just returned from the road trip), we went out to get some much needed groceries with our trusty cart and also go to the Bank. We were by the KFC on Clearbrook when things went horribly wrong. We both casually glanced down at the sidewalk entrance to KFC and saw a man wearing army short and dreadlocks walking his mean looking German Shepherd dog. The man yelled at us, "What are you looking at?" We jokingly said, "You." He asked us, "Why" Dan replied, "Cuz you are there." That's when things got out of control. He raced towards us calling his dog to follow him and yelled, "What are you looking at? Why are you looking at me?" Realizing that he didn't like our joke, we innocently explained that we were looking at the bushes and he happened to be there. He didn't seem satisfied with that answer and stormed towards us calling his dog. He eyed up our cart, all the while yelling "What are you looking at?" We worried he was going to steal Amanda's purse or our groceries. We also worried that he was about to get violent. We calmly, but rather quickly walked away. He continued to follow us and yell, "What are you looking at?" His dog, thankfully didn't follow him (and didn't listen to him calling his name), so the man went back to get his dog. We walked quickly away, looking back, without making it look like we were looking back. We made it home safely, while warning fellow pedestrians to avoid looking at the man in dreadlocks. We are so thankful that this incident didn't turn out worse. It was quite scary, but we are happy that we are okay.

Road Trip 2009-Part 2

After visiting Prince Rupert, we went up to Fort St. James, outside of Vanderhoof. We visited the fort and had a great time learning about skinning the hides (it sure smelt something awful though).

Next we went to look at one of the oldest existing churches in BC.

Dan went fishing at Stuart Lake in Fort ST. James. He didn't catch anything, except himself. But he is still learning the art of fly casting.

Later that night, after the winds picked up and Dan could no longer fish, we went looking for a waterfall that we had seen on a postcard at the Fort. The tourist lady had given us directions, so we went looking for it. We ended up 50km off the beaten path on a road less travelled. We didn't see a waterfall, but we ended up getting up close and personal with a beaver at some unnameable lake. It made the trip worthwhile to see the beaver in "its natural habitat."

Our next stop was Wells. We got to stay in a 1930's hotel. The hotel was beautiful. The pub it was on top of, not so much. The singer in the pub was horrible. The accordion accompaniment was terrible. And of course, the fact that this was all happening at midnight made it all worse. From Wells, we made a day trip to Barkerville. We took in a show about the fire, panned for gold and took a carriage ride. It was amazing to realize that our entire trip was along the gold rush route in the 1890's.

One morning, we took a moment to see the Bowron Lakes. I mean, we came that far, why not? We ended up renting a canoe for an hour and paddled around the lake. Dan got another opportunity to fish, but only caught some seaweed. But at least he can say, he fished on the Bowron Lakes.

After Barkerville and Bowron Lakes, we went down to Williams Lake, where we had planned a Jet Boat Adventure. And what an adventure it was. We were accompanied by the Cariboo-Chilcoton Tourist Center leaders, as well as Aboriginal Tourist Center leaders. It was meant to be a bit of a photographic journey for them, as they gained resources for upcoming magazines and 2010 footage (yep, look for us on TV!)

We all got an opportunity to deep net fish in the Fraser River, since our guide was an Aboriginal.

We got to taste authentic Aboriginal foods, like salmon and bannock. We also ate this amazing ice cream, that comes from berries that are only ripe for one week and when mashed end up fluffing up into a delicious ice cream.

We really enjoyed being out on the water and learning about the Aboriginal way of life and their culture from real Aboriginals.

We were on the water for 8 hours, even though our tour was supposed to be 6 (that was thanks to the photographers and their need for the perfect shot!) It was definitely the highlight of our trip.

We ended our trip with a brief visit to Penticton to visit Grandma. It was a nice way to relax. Grandma took us to Peachfest, so we could experience the nightlife. It was lame, by big city standards, but Grandma sure got a kick out of it. The night ended with free pizza which Grandma took full advantage of. We left the next morning to finish our journey through the Hope-Princeton and to our wonderful home. We collapsed in our own bed, exhausted but happy.