No Place I'd Rather Be

My friend Irene (the one in the middle) just sent me this picture that was taken a year ago on Galiano Island. (Look how small baby Eli is in my arms!) Four of us had rented this cute little cottage across the street from the beach. We feasted. We laughed. We cried. We laughed more. In fact we probably didn't cry at all, but it seems like the kind of thing we would have done. Irene is coming to BC in a few weeks and I wish I could surprise her with a weekend at this same cottage. I wish I could recreate this moment of intimate friendship. But I know there will be other photographs taken, in different settings, that capture the same intimacy and joy that is so vivid in this picture.

Preparing to Climb

I just received this picture, by email, of my son preparing to do some climbing at a local climbing gym with his youth group. What a wonderful shot! Thankyou to the leader who captured this image that is 100% Jonathan; serious, thoughtful, contemplative...

You may look at this picture and see a boy with smudges on his shirt and hair in his eyes. I look at this picture and I see a young boy preparing to climb. I see a youth who is oblivious to the rest of the world. I see a young man carefully following the rules as he ensures that the ropes will hold him firmly in place as he climbs to great heights. I see my son growing from a boy into a young man, and I know this is something he will do well.

so much depends on an old wheelbarrow

I have often wondered how much really ...depends/ upon/ a red wheel/ barrow/ glazed with rain/ water/ beside the white/ chickens and then I saw this wheelbarrow lying abandoned as I was walking throught the forest after a rain. As I shot this picture I created my own version of the famous poem by William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon a rusty old wheelbarrow
that used to carry
wood
across the farmyard
and now lies waiting for the children
who will
find
and transform it
into a chariot for imagined adventures

Moral: what is old and discarded to one person is a potential treasure to another. What one person does not see anymore another may find and cherish.

Decorating for Christmas

I have begun decorating my home for Christmas... The tree angel above, a remnant from my childhood, is my very favourite ornament. I absconded with it when my mother abandoned our childhood Christmas ornaments for the designer ornaments that make her tree look like it sprung from the pages of an interior design magazine. In fact I thought she gave this ornament to me but she does not recall having done so. I may have to one day give it back as apparently it is also a favourite ornament from her own childhood.

The wall hanging above was a Christmas gift many years ago that usually contains glass vases that I fill with fresh flowers or floating candles. I found the white cones on sale last year and added the incredible greenery a few days ago. Do you notice the little red berries? I have never seen anything like them. It is quite a remarkable bush that lines the sidewalk into my backyard. I still plan to string popcorn and cranberries for the tree which is an arduous job but, like the tree angel, brings back happy memories of childhood Christmases. My oldest son has requested that we also string the tree with gold ribbon that he saw on a tree at a local department store. I have yet to put up lights outdoors but am enjoying the incredible light displays that my neighbours have put together. I am beginning to feel the excitement of the Christmas season, especially as my husband arrives home in two days after way too many months of being apart.

Home

I took this picture last summer as I took a walk around my mom's property. The house in the distance belongs to my mother and her husband, George. Where I am standing I have my back to three acres of trees. Behind the house is another forest of trees. Within this forest is a shady creek that runs throughout the year. There are some ragged trails to the creek but mostly you have to break through the underbrush as you make your way to the water's edge. This is the place I think of when I think of going home for Christmas or even for a weekend of home cooking and sattelite tv. There is always delicious food, a bottle of wine, a lively conversation, a cozy fire and a blanket to wrap around myself.

At this moment, as I am longing for home, this is the place I am thinking of. I miss you mom. Make ribs and caesar salad. I'll be there as soon as I can.

In Tandem

A few years ago I read a book about a man and his wife who would spend their holidays sailing together in tandem on two different sailboats. When I read the story I was encouraged by the idea of this couple maintaining their individuality while travelling side by side. I gave the book to my husband for our anniversary that year because I thought these boats sailing in tandem provided a perfect metaphor for our own life together. I still agree with this concept in general but these days I don't feel such a strong need to maintain my individuality. After 15 years of marriage I would be quite happy to travel in one sailboat together for the rest of our life, no matter how small it was.

The Annual Christmas Cookie Exchange

My friend Tina organized a cookie exchange which I more than willingly signed up for last month. This morning as I was frantically preparing cookie dough before work while holding Elijah on one hip I realized that I was out of eggs. I had just enough time to run to the grocery store, add eggs to the cookie dough which had to sit in my fridge all day in preparation for the chocolate-vanilla pinwheel cookies I was planning to make by 8pm this evening. Unfortuately there was a bit of a mix up with the boys schedules. I thought I was supposed to pick Jonathan up from Volleyball at 4:30 (which gave me just enough time to get Matthew to his 5pm guitar lesson) It turned out Jonathan's game went late and he didn't get back to the school until 5:30. I spent a good part of the evening waiting in a dark parking lot before retrieving my son, rescheduling the guitar lesson and returning home for supper and cookie making. As you can see I didn't manage to make chocolate-vanilla pinwheel cookies. I realized too late that before I refrigerated the dough in the morning it should have been rolled into logs (a layer of chocolate over a layer of vanilla rolled into a log makes a pinwheel design when cut) . I had refrigerated it in one big lump that did not want to be rolled into anything resembling a pinwheel. Always the queen of improvisation (which has something to do with my tendency to do things at the last minute...) I turned my "pinwheel cookies" into chocolate vanilla marble cookies dipped in icing sugar. Still I did not have the requisite 9 dozen cookies that I needed for this evenings cookie exchange so I had to make a little segway to Thrifty foods on my way to Tina's house. I checked the rules before leaving the house. Tina had requested that our cookies be extra special to honour the festive season approaching. She did not specify that we actually had to make them ourselves.. (Note: The store bought cookies are not pictured... The cookies in these photographs are all home made!)

It Doesn't Matter That I Can't Paint Horses

...as you can see by this sketch I did (a few years ago) I am an abstract thinker. It is not easy for me to keep within the lines; to draw absolutes. What I think is so neat about painting is that if I scribble and smudge at the right moments I can let the picture create itself. I do not have to create an exact replica of anything. I do not even want to. What I want is to create an image, either with words or pictures that brings about a response. I don't care so much what the response is (though of course there is a part of me that always wants it to be positive). What is more important to me about this blog is that words and images create conversation and conversation makes us grow and change in ways we didn't know were possible.

A Friend is a Dog's Best Friend

At the moment that I bought this book for my friend Jessica, she was at a different bookstore buying this book for me. Neither of us were expecting the other to be buying a present though we were meeting for dinner that night! There is a story that I will remember whenever I look at this book.

The previous night we were out for a walk along Dallas Rd; a popular dog-walking destination. As we met with various dogs along the walkway Jessica told us about the breed, temperment and tendencies of each dog we saw. We were all enamoured with her knowledge and hung onto her every word (as we are strongly considering asking a dog to join our family in the next year or so. )

On our way back to the car we met up with a woman and her very large dog.
Jessica said, "isn't that a..."
The lady said "No, actually he's a..."
Jessica said, "Oh yes, that's right. Aren't they very..."
"No" said the woman, "their temperment is..."
Jessica said, "Right. I forgot that. But they tend to..."
"Umm, no" said the woman. "They are known to..."

As we continued our walk to the car the boys and I started laughing and chiding Jessica that she really didn't know anything about dogs and had made up everything she had told us on our walk. In fact Jessica does know a lot about Dogs and she had just been mistaken about this one particular dog, mixing it up with a similar breed. But we had fun teasing her about it anyways.

(P.S. The Photo, painted by Jessica can be found on her website along with an incredible selection of her art. She hasn't painted as much recently because she is a: pregnant b: working full time c: illustrating a children's book d: all of the above. Her website is well worth checking out: http://www.jessicamilne.com/sam.htm)

An Hour of Waiting.

Still God often keeps us waiting. Face to face with threatening foes, in the midst of alarms, encircled by perils, beneath the impending rock. May we not go? Is it not time to strike our tents? Have we not suffered to the point of utter collapse? May we not exchange the glare and heat for green pastures and still waters? There is no answer. The cloud tarries, and we must remain, though sure of manna, rock-water, shelter and defense. God never keeps us at a post without assuring us of His presence and sending us daily supplies.Wait, young man, do not be in a hurry to make a change. Until the cloud clearly moves, you must tarry. ...An hour of waiting but there seems such need, to reach that spot sublime!"
-from Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman

tarry: linger or delay, stay briefly
sublime: of high moral, intellectual, or spiritual value

It is not easy to tarry when I am longing strike our tent and set off looking for that place sublime. I opened up my devotional book to this excerpt today and it was as if these words were written just for me.

Priorities...

Priorities? What are mine? I am seriously contemplating going back to work. I am hesitating on two levels.

One: My husband is away until mid-December. Though I have an awesome support network of friends and family to call on (ie: lean on) when necessary the reality is that I am parenting 3 boys, ages 1-13 on my own. Could I maintain my sense of humour and charming disposition if I add the demands of a new job to my busy schedule.

Two: There are some big transitions coming up in the near future. (ie: moving to a new and as yet unknown city) But the move might be a long way off. Do I hold off going back to work until our life is more settled or do I (gulp) admit that this is about as settled as it is going to get for a long while?

ok, there are more than two levels that I am hesitating on...

Three: I (gulp) have a long held ambition of pursuing a career as a freelance writer/journalist. To this end I am working steadily on my English Degree and hope to pursue a more specialized education (either as a journalist or a teacher) when our life is more settled... (italics added to emphasize the irony(?) of our life being settled. Is there really such a thing as settled? What does that mean anyways? I don't know if irony is the right word but I couldn't think of a better one.) If I go back to work I would not be working in this field as I have no experience or education to qualify me for it. Well, that is not completely true. I do have some experience but not enough to get me a job that pays for food, gas, tuition and daycare which is what I need. To earn an actual paycheque I would have to return to work that I know: clerical work and/or customer service and/or retail work... I could attempt an unqualified leap into the freelance writing arena but wonder if I have the stamina and ambition necessary to be self employed. As I said to a friend the other day, "it is great to imagine being your own boss when you are planning coffee breaks, etc. The hard part comes when you actually have to get assertive and make yourself get down to work."

Four: I have not forgotten that I am mother to an incredibly charming one year old boy. I know some people in my life might balk to think that I am not 100% satisfied with my role as a stay at home mother. I love the time I spend with my son. I just think I would love that time with my son more if I knew I was not sacrificing my own personal goals to stay at home with him. I am not looking to work an intensely full time job. I'm looking for a balance. Perhaps I will spend my mornings working part time and studying part-time and leave my late afternoons and evenings free to enjoy the energy and enthusiasm of my three incredibly talented and diverse sons. That is my ideal goal. I just have to figure out how to make it work.

By the Way... (Re: Deleted Comments)

if you see deleted comments on my blog entries it is likely spam. If I get a comment that is generic and looks like an attempt to get people to log onto their website and sell them stuff, I do not check the link to that website. I delete it immediately. If I get comments from fellow bloggers that are not generic I will read them and likely check the website link before deciding whether to delete or keep the comment.
Feel free to comment. But if you are trying to sell debt repayment or college girls, I am not interested and neither are my readers.

I'm Prone To Happiness...

I have this quote, cut out of an article in last weekend's globe and mail stuck to my fridge. "I'm prone to happiness..."

I love that!

Prone: (adj. Middle English. from Latin pronus. from pro; forwards...) lying flat, prostrate, disposed or liable (especially to a bad action, condition etc... )

The meaning of the word prone is flipped in this quote to demonstrate where one could easily be prone to bitterness, failure, frustration, dissolusionment and is instead prone to happiness. According to the newspaper article this person has a joie de vivre that adds a great deal to the lives of those around her. To me, being prone to happiness means being prone to friendship. It means being charming, successful, confident, and engaging. That is the kind of person I'd like to be. (just perhaps with not quite so high a profile.)

You might ask what this photo has to do with my rambling about happiness. It has everything to do with being the kind of person that lets a dragonfly rest on her arm and the kind of person who stops to capture that moment. I've had a few people tell me recently that my happiness in the midst of the big upheavals our family has been faced with this past year, has been a big encouragement to them. It is only by staying in the present moment that I can remain joyful. When I look to what lies ahead for us I become fearful and agitated. I have accepted that I must live in this day. I have made a decision to be prone to happiness, not in a superficial-smile- anyway-kind-of-way, but out of a genuine thankfulness for all I have going for me.

...to hold onto the present and not rush headlong into the future. That is what being prone to happiness means to me.

Most People that Know Me Laugh A Lot

I can be humorous when I have a lot on my mind but it is not intentional. For example, I sometimes forget common words for objects. Today I asked my husband to pass me “that moon thing”, referring to the stuffed cow my one year old was playing with. I was thinking of the nursery rhyme where the cow jumps over the moon. Fortunately, my husband knows me well enough to know exactly what I was referring to. Another time I was visiting my aunt in Edmonton. I asked her where she got the beautiful candles on her dashboard. She looked at me quizzically and replied that the candles on her mantle were a gift from a friend. When I was a young wife living in a basement apartment fifteen years ago, I had an episode where my cat had brought a half dead bird into my apartment. I called my new mother-in-law in a panic. As the bird flapped, half dying, around my living room I screamed into the telephone, “there’s a crow in my house!” When she asked me how big the crow was, I answered “It would fit in the palm of my hand”. It is humorous to me that I, a person who loves language and literature with such passion, could find myself so often in situations where I can not remember the simplest word.

Eli-Something to Crow About.

IMG_3892
Originally uploaded by Bleached Linen.

We went to Saanich Fair this weekend as our last hurrah of summer. Matt and Jon got all day passes for the midway while James and I walked around with Eli, making him pose for goofy pictures like this one. There were fun picture boards all over the fair. I wish we'd been able to get pictures of more of them.

Why Toil?

Life is a learning process. What I am learning right now is to live in the moment and not to let fear of an unknown future stop me from enjoying today.

Knowing that our family will soon be moving to another city could stop me from enjoying the beautiful city that I am in right now.

Knowing that we will have to invite new friendships into our lives when we move could stop us from making plans with the friends we have (and adore! and don't want to ever say goodbye to!)

Knowing that it is unlikely that I will live in this home next summer could stop me from spending time in my garden in this season. It is hard to toil when you are afraid you won't be the one to enjoy the "harvest"

...and yet I am learning that the toiling is the harvest. It would be so easy in all areas of my life to say "Why toil?" and therefore miss out on the joys of today.

Hands in the Sand

Getting his hands wet
Originally uploaded by Bleached Linen.

and when I am gardening these hands are in the dirt.

and when I am doing dishes these hands are in the bubbles.

and when I am pulling out the vacuum these hands are picking up crumbs off the floor.

and when I am holding my beautiful baby these hands are running through my hair. These hands are poking me in the eye or ear or nose or mouth.

These hands are moving rapidly across the floor as Eli becomes a crawler and begins his exploration of the world so large around him. (and as I learn very quickly which things I need to move up and out of reach in a house that has grown used to dangling wires, collections of rocks and breakable dishes.)

Ditty Wa Ditty

Learning To Play
Originally uploaded by Bleached Linen.

My brother is teaching my son to play a ditty. I watch from the couch where I sit nursing my youngest child. I am moved by the way Jonathan looks up to his uncle, hangs on his every word. I listen to them play together. I marvel at the intensity of this eleven year old child attempting to master a new song. I pray that this desire will intensify as he gets older, that he will create something unique and beautiful with his music, as I know he has the talent to do. I pray that he will continue to listen to his elders, to allow himself to be guided, even when he wants to go his own way. And that finally, he will go his own way even when others are intent on guiding him.

Pregnant Bellies

Pregnant Bellies
Originally uploaded by Bleached Linen.

One of these pregnant bellies isn't pregnant anymore. Can you guess which one???
Congratulations to one of my dearest friends on the birth of her son. I am overcome, amazed, excited, filled with wonderment and can not wait to meet this little dark haired boy.

It is one thing to say Fret Not...

Benches at Point Holmes
Originally uploaded by Bleached Linen.

Yesterday morning I sat at the kitchen table reading a page from my devotional book. As I attempted to shake the anxiety that I was feeling I read these words:

"It is one thing to say Fret not, but a very different thing to have such a disposition that you find yourself able not to fret..."

It was as if it was written especially for me; to remind me that my current state of mind is a 'disposition' and something I have ultimate control over.

The anxiety I feel as my husband searches out new work (very possibly in a new city...) and as I search out my place in the life we have created is acentuated when I allow myself to fret over the unknown details.