Fresh Face Day

This past weekend has been picture-perfect weather. Warm, sunny, yet still with a fresh breeze....beautiful for drying clothes on the line.

There is no smell I relish more than sun and wind-dried sheets, pillow cases, and clothes.

Days like these, I pull dried sheets off the line and bury my nose in them to inhale the fresh scent.

Intoxicating.

On laundry days, I almost can't wait until bedtime to lay my face on a fresh pillowcase, nestled under fresh sheets.

So when I awoke on Saturday morning it felt great to know it was such a beautiful day.

Ladies, you know how great it feels to have a morning shower, freshly washed hair and face, and if the barn needs paintin'...a little fresh touch of makeup to feel alive and invigorated.

 That's how I felt with my freshly brewed coffee and fresh face - ('Fresh' is the word of the day, if you hadn't figured it out).

I went downstairs to begin the laundry. We have a laundry chute, and I noticed a sock suddenly fall behind the dryer. So I got in beside the dryer and peered behind it. Not seeing the sock very well, I leaned in farther. I submerged my fresh face squarely and completely into large dusty cobwebs. BLEEECH! So much for fresh. More like itchy (I'm allergic to dust). I couldn't shake the thoughts of tiny spiders and dust mites on my scalp.

Did you know that it is a fact that spiders build their webs at the height of just under 5 feet? It's true. I have several years worth of documented proof....on my face. Whenever my face is fresh - particularly early morning on the way to work - I will walk somewhere where there is a web, just under 5 feet in height, that will hit my face square on. Another little known fact is that oranges or grapefruits when cut will always, without fail, squirt directly into a fresh face...and most often, stingingly into an eyeball.

But I digress.

I carried on with the day, got the laundry out on the line and things were great until I started to prepare an early supper. I peeled the potatoes and prepared some green beans and cauliflower.

Then I got out my trusty compost bucket that I keep under the kitchen sink. It's a beauty from Lee Valley, made of stainless steel so it does not hold odours and washes up beautifully, so smelly compost in your kitchen is never an issue.

I had noticed that the lid had been slightly off on the compost pail a week ago - nothing to do with my son cooking and putting his scraps in there, of course. I had closed it tightly as soon as I noticed it.

I put the pail on the counter in front of me to dispose of the vegetable peels.

Removed the lid.

HUNDREDS of fruit flies flew right up into my fresh face! I slammed the lid back on immediately, but the damage was done. I had released a cloud of these tiny annoyances into my kitchen. Worse than Grade 9 Biology - fruit fly reproduction 101. My face got itchier.

I took the compost pail promptly outside to the composter and I had to open the lid and release some flies to the backyard as well - keeping my face well away from the pail. Too bad I didn't know about those flies in there beforehand or I would have donated them to some Grade 9 biology lab.

I set traps...and will continue for many more days...of baggies with decaying fruit. Every morning I will dispose of the baggy full of fruit flies and wonder if they are reproducing faster than I can catch them.

My face was safe for the rest of the day, although I had doubts when I was sloshing and splashing around cleaning a dirty birdbath.

'Twas nice to wash my face before bed and lay it down on the intoxicatingly fresh pillow case.

I even managed to wipe the thoughts out of my brain that there might be tiny spiders, dust mites, or fruit flies crawling around in my hair.

 That would be a problem to tackle in the morning..... after putting on my fresh face.

Do your kids send you texts in the middle of the night?

1:39 am
Roll over because I hear my phone vibrating.
There is a text message from my son.
It says,
"Do you know how old the house is?"
I reply with as accurate an answer as one can give while in a fog. I ask why he wants to know. He replies that they (his roommates and he) were just having a discussion about it. I reply with a correction to my answer now that I've had a few moments to process. Then I ask, "Are the guys also texting their mothers at 1:45 am?" I didn't receive a response.

LOL.

I know that some mothers would respond that they would be so angry to be awakened from sleep for something so trivial. Me? I say, "I love this kid!! Spontaneous!"

Now...in Jordan's defence....he had just spoken to me at 1:00 am, only 40 minutes earlier about another matter, so I'm sure he assumed I was still wide awake. After the text I was!...and lay awake another half hour blogging in my head about it! I found it rather amusing and was still laughing about it later in the day.

Perhaps it's my fault, but I've always stressed to my kids that they can disturb me at any time of the day or night if they need me. I cherish the "Mom? Are you still awake?" moments to talk out the stuff they are thinking through, needing some advice, or just a listening ear. I didn't feel like I had that with my parents and just don't want that repeated with my own kids.

Those late night talks just might be more frequent in the near future.

Back in February I wrote about the empty nest as my son was leaving home. This weekend, through circumstances, he has to return home for a bit until the job situation is resolved. I am thankful that it is not a long term plan for him to stay here - not because I don't want him here - but I want him to mature and learn life lessons on his own, and he recognizes that he needs that.

Funny, living around several large trees, I've been following the lives of baby birds and their attachments to their parents. It's one thing to leave the nest, but the babies still make their presence known and need help for quite a while after they venture out of their home. In the case of cardinal youngsters, I've been hearing their cheeping for weeks as their parents spend all of their time providing food and guarding them from all dangers.

So our nest will again be a little crowded, a little more costly, and a lot more messy. But it's a short window of time in our lives and I will just cherish the chats and the texts - no matter the hour.

Oh, and in case you're dying to know ....the house is 48 years old.

100 blog posts

I've got lots to tell you!

I have written approximately 100 blog posts this summer. Trouble is...they are all in my head and have not been transposed via the keyboard. There are musings on faith, flowers, fish, friendship, funny stuff, and of course, stories of my feathered friends and all their babies I've been following. Good bloggers post daily. I admit I am not in that league.

Fresh blog posts are of course far more superior on current topics relevant to the moment. They have an important place in many people's lives and I read many of them when I can. But life is meant to be lived and God bless you if you do, but I am just not one to carry technology with me to record my posts within moments....or inform followers of my every movement... or to continually read what equates to text messages from others. I get enough text messages from my kids asking for the car and money. The thought of my head buried in a Blackberry or laptop throughout an entire day for purposes other than work exhausts me. No, the only tweets coming from my house are those coming from the trees. Good grief I sound so old and crotchety! Maybe I'll be hip when I'm retired and I'll twitter from my rocking chair. I feel a blog post coming on about what would be contained in those tweets......

Anyways.......it's summer. I spend as much of it outdoors as I can (while my housework is abandoned) and while I am gardening and birding and photographing and reading and visiting, I am blogging away in my head. When I should be sleeping, I am composing a post and hoping I can remember my thoughts when I get to actually write it out. If my thoughts don't all get recorded until weeks later....so be it. Besides, I spend hours at my workplace on the computer (because I have to) and can feel the tennis elbow becoming more pronounced... so I try to rest it when at home. (That's a lie. I do gardening and end up making it worse).

Soon enough the days will shorten and more time will be spent indoors and I will catch up on my postings. Come the first snow day, watch for 2-3 posts per day for weeks on end. And they will all remind you of the summer.

Since I'm finally posting something here, I might as well throw in my thoughts for today which are on a more serious note. We heard a message from a guest speaker at church today who reminded us that God works strangely, sovereignly, and sloooowly. Example: the life of Joseph. His life was a maze from the time he received his technicolour coat from his dad, and each event made no sense on it's own. Where was God when everything was going wrong?? Yet everything was being beautifully orchestrated from an Israelite, to a slave, to a prisoner, to a Prime Minister. Kind of like right now during this heat wave we're experiencing during summer, the autumn is actually slowly working behind the scenes, preparing itself to burst upon us - you just can't see it. It is apparent that it's God's nature to work sovereignly....slowly, often unseen... and not understood by us. We live our lives by clocks and calendars - they don't seem to be a factor to God.

Life is like a big page of that connect-the-dots game. You don't see the big picture until you're just about through. The speaker mentioned that her daughter is bad for leaving phone messages that she has something really exciting to relate, but...."I'll tell you later!". God leaves us waiting...hanging....and we have to trust Him....when we don't think we are getting answers...and when everything seems to be going against us.

He'll tell us later.

There IS a big plan.....but I want to look for God in the little things....to learn about His nature and His ways.....and intentionally love and worship Him.

I was musing on these thoughts this evening when I went back into the recesses of my garden to prune a few rosebush branches (pruning is a whole other blog post of spiritual thoughts...). Suddenly my dog started frantically barking on the back deck. She gets disturbed if we go in the house without her - she needs to be with us all the time.

She had lost sight of me and obviously thought I had gone in the house.

I peered around the pear tree that I was in behind and called her name. Nikki! NIKKI! The poor dog ran from one end of the deck to the other looking for me and couldn't see me. She scurried to the gate to look down the driveway as I continued to call her name....but she couldn't see me. Back up on the deck she tried to listen to where my voice was coming from but she just couldn't see me and was becoming a little frantic to find me.

Finally, I stepped farther out of the garden and called her name once more. That did it. Recognition. The arthritic dog came bounding down the stairs, tail wagging and excitedly ran up to me for reassurance that I was indeed there. I had been there all along. As Nikki ran towards me I saw the very real picture of what I had just been musing on. I love my dog and I savoured her reaction as she lovingly ran to me.

Just because she couldn't see me didn't mean I had left her. I was there all along...my love for her still intact and unwavering. I hadn't left her. I never will.

My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.
“And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8,9 - The Bible

I will lead the blind by ways they have not known,
along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;
I will turn the darkness into light before them
and make the rough places smooth.
These are the things I will do;
I will not forsake them.

Isaiah 42:16 - The Bible

MJ wasn't the first moonwalker

When I was a child, space travel was still a mystical, uncommon thing. All eyes were on the news if any rockets were launched into space, but never more so than when man first stepped on the surface of the moon - 40 years ago on July 20, 1969.

I was 12 years old when three brave astronauts, Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin Jr. departed on their Apollo 11 mission to the moon. I remember being with my parents in front of our black and white television watching the Apollo 11 launch, and then the lunar landing.









We watched grainy images of Neil Armstrong stepping onto the surface of the moon, followed by Buzz Aldrin. We listened carefully to their historic statements and watched with awe as they bounced along for a no-gravity experience.

We saw images of our own earth as they were seeing them from the moon.








I remember staring at the moon for many nights after that, with an eerie feeling, trying to imagine that there were men up there as I gazed at it.


Later we followed their descent to earth, wondering if they would survive...watching their capsule land in the ocean and the boats travelling out to get them. I was awestruck with it all.


Fast-track 40 years and we learn that Buzz Aldrin's post-Apollo life had spiraled out of control with depression and alcoholism. Fortunately, that is behind him and he has chronicled his life in his memoirs, "Magnificent Desolation".

Many in the current generation seem to have lost that awe of space travel and other amazing feats that we take so for granted. Another shuttle launch? That's nice. It seems almost as commonplace as an airplane taking off in flight.

Well maybe these videos will engage younger generations....or at least make them laugh. Good old very cool 79 year old Buzz Aldrin aka Doc Rendezvous is very much into the new hip-hop, twitter culture and wants to send a message to this generation. He enlists Snoop Dogg to help him. I could never have imagined this video when I was 12....nor could Buzz I'm sure. Take a look. The second video below is just to insult your intelligence.
(You can also view another version of the making of the video at this link ).

Creeeeepy Crawlies

This blog post is not for those with queasy stomachs. If you are squirmy about bugs, stop reading now. Go to some other nice, peaceful blog that makes you feel good. Don't say I didn't warn you.


Back in the early days of our marriage, my husband and I visited his parents when they lived on the Georgian Bay. I remarked on an unusual insect there that I had never seen in my life. It intrigued me. It was called an earwig. Strange name....I mean, doesn't it paint a picture in your head?












We must have brought two of them back with us unawares to infest our neck of the woods.

They are now everywhere at our house, starting in about July until frost. If you have them at your house you know what I mean. Pick up anything outside.....a pot....a garbage can....a garden hose....a chair...a rock. Doesn't matter what. If you lift up something outside, there will be earwigs beneath it that scatter when the light hits them. Bring some cut flowers into the house and earwigs will fall out from beneath the petals. They chew stuff. And they like it dark and moist. We've had two rainy summers in a row. Not good.

I'm not sure what eats them. I've invested in all these birds around us. If the birds are eating them, they aren't eating enough of them. If toads or snakes eat them, I'll take about a hundred of each please.


Oh, I know all the ways to knock down their numbers. Like, put out rolled up newspapers or a portion of a garden hose to capture them, and then drown them in soapy water in the morning. Sorry, no time for that - not till I'm retired.


But there's this other nagging problem with them. They're not content to stay outside. We seem to have a 'leaky' house because each summer they begin to pay us a visit...in the kitchen, the bathroom, the basement, and the odd one in the bedrooms.


Back when my daughter was much younger, we had an infestation of earwigs in her bedroom. I'll spare you the details of how they got in - we did figure it out and resolve it. But imagine this little girl feeling things crawling on her....turning on the light, and literally seeing the room alive and moving. Every night after dark....earwigs on the walls, ceilings, floor. Behind the posters and pictures on the walls....under the chair rail....coming out from beneath the baseboards. Everywhere. It's a wonder she didn't have nightmares. Obviously, we didn't let her sleep in there anymore (as if she could) until we tackled where they were getting in the house.


We are no longer infested with them. But if I get up in the night and turn on a light in the bathroom or kitchen, there will always be one or two....or three...that were in transit until the light came on. They freeze and look at you and wait. When they see you move, they try to scurry under something. Their little bodies crunch in the kleenex but you're still not sure they're dead until they go down the toilet...and even then....who knows if they come back? You've heard of gathering at the water cooler? These creatures gather under ours in the kitchen where there's a little moisture. The absolute worst place I have found the odd one is on the flexible trim lining the door of our fridge!


Okay, now that you're never going to visit our house in the summer (in the winter we have flying moths from the bird seed)....perhaps you will implore RAID to bring back the earwig traps they used to produce and have now done away with. They used to work really well. I have some Lee Valley reuseable traps in which you put oil and other stuff, but the earwigs just never go inside them.


Now, I know I'm just whining. I've experienced tropical climates living with everything from tarantulas to chamelions to snakes inside. But I live in suburbia and don't expect to feel like I'm at the cottage or camping.

Even so, I would still rather have earwigs then large ants in my house. Ants are just too intelligent for me. I lived with them at my parents' house when they had an ant nest below the rafters of the house. Every time I entered a room, my eyes would scan the ceilings, walls, and floors. What a feeling to run your hand through your hair and have a large, squishy, wriggling ant between your fingers, or pouring syrup on your pancakes only to find ants swimming in the syrup (I kid you not). But those ants would never die. No matter how hard you whacked them or squished them or drowned them. If only I'd known back then that some of them are allergic to nuts - I would have left out peanut butter traps - because you will notice on the RAID ant traps, they are clearly marked, "may contain nuts". I told you ants were intelligent - they can read. (And how intelligent of us to make the ants aware that the poison that can kill them, may contain nuts that could kill them).


Had enough of this talk? I will leave you then and get some cotton balls for my ears before I go to bed. Whaaaat? EAR wigs. Crawl into dark and moist places. Not sure what they like chewing, but I know I need to keep all of the brains I have, little though they may be (as evidenced by this blog post).

That's astounding!

If we did all the things we are capable of, we would literally astound ourselves.

Thomas Edison

Celebrate!

HAPPY CANADA DAY!!!

I love my country - best place on the planet!!

It's the most wonderful time of the year

One in my mouth.....

two in the bowl.....

two in my mouth......

one in the bowl......

29 years

Yes....that's right. I've been married all my life.

Happy Anniversary Dave. You're the best and I love you!

Spring Things

Summer is right around the corner (whether it feels like it or not), so I am providing you with some pics of spring things from around our home, before they are out of season. If you think I enjoy birds and flowers, you are very observant.

I'm not sure how I feel about chipmunks now that they've chewed a hole in the roof vent, chewed the window frames, and many of them can be seen tearing around the outside of the house (not inside....yet), and running along the brick walls. My heart softens when I look at their pictures....but when I see four or more at once in the garden, sending birds scattering in all directions, and scampering back and forth to the neighbours with their loot....I'm reminded they are rodents...rodents with pockets that desperately must be filled. And to think only a few years ago, I had never seen a chipmunk in our neighbourhood and longed to catch a glimpse of one....

Enjoy the show.

Storms 'n rainbows

This evening was one of those weird weather nights. It had gotten dark before sunset and started raining steadily. I saw a flash of lightning and heard thunder so I went to have a look out the window. The sky had turned a strange orangey/yellowy colour and the air had become very still after having been quite windy. I always think 'tornado' when I see such things.

But as I looked out my east facing window I realized a rainbow was appearing. I went outside, camera in hand, and stood on the front porch.

In the midst of the lightning... the thunder.....and the rain....

the sun was shining in the west......

while a rainbow shone in the eastern sky.

It's confusing to see lightning, rain, sunshine, and rainbow all at once!

It brought my mind back to a weird feeling last summer when I was pulling some weeds in the garden. It was very hot in the blazing sun, but it suddenly started raining in the midst of the sunshine beating down on me. I stood up and looked for the cloud that was raining on me, and there wasn't one anywhere to be seen! The sun was still brightly shining. I was very puzzled, but welcomed the cooling spray....wherever it was coming from! (No, my husband was not spraying me with the hose....it really was rain!).

If you've flown in a plane, you will also love that exhilarating feeling of leaving the ground on a dreary, rainy day and suddenly bursting through the clouds to see that the sun was there all along. You leave the dreariness below and rise above to be warmed and heartened by the sun's rays.

It's a gentle reminder to me that even when the winds are swirling, the rain beats down as the storm rages, and that's all I can seem to see..... the sun really is still there....I just can't always see it at that moment.

Sometimes waiting for the breakthrough from the dark clouds can seem like forever. But don't ever let go of hope. A rainbow doesn't follow every storm...but like the sun, hope is always there. One day you will rise above it all and be warmed and heartened.

(Here's an account of the most frightening storm I've experienced.)

Moment of Awe

In case you hadn't noticed, I'm an obsessed bird lover. Today when I came home from work, I had a near-perfect moment for a bird lover. Let me backtrack a bit before I tell you about it.

I've always wanted to be able to watch the activity of a bird's nest up close, but the placement of denser trees and windows at our place have never seemed to allow it. But just over a week ago we realized with all the commotion and chasing of blue jays and such, that Momma Cardinal was nesting in a tall bush just beneath our bedroom window. If we strain, we can catch a glimpse of the nest below us, but the camera can't capture it from inside. My husband sensed my eagerness for a picture from above, so when Momma flew to the bird feeder (which I eagerly keep topped up for her and her mate), he removed a window pane - no easy feat with our big old need-to-be-replaced-but-can't-afford-it heavy sliding windows. I popped my head out into the fresh air and snapped several pictures of the eggs in the nest directly below. Within moments, Mom and Dad were flapping and squawking at this intruder hanging out the window.

Five beautiful eggs! We had noticed this week however, that Momma seemed to sit on only four, as the fifth egg was always visible. Maybe she knew she could only manage four mouths to feed or perhaps birds know when one isn't going to hatch?? It's been kind of cool to know that as I settle down in my 'nest', there's another momma just on the other side of the wall.

I have enjoyed watching the interaction between Mom and Dad. He's always guarding...flitting around nearby and diving at anything that gets near, making sure Mom has moments to stretch, get food and water - he'll even pass some food to her. Both Mom and Dad fly furiously at blue jays, hitting them until they fly off. That's one disadvantage of keeping the feeders topped up - it attracts all the 'enemies' too. Blue jays and crows are particular culprits for robbing nests of eggs and baby birds.

So I have developed an affinity for this couple and a hope for their little family.

Tonight when I came home from work, had fed the dog, filled the bird feeders and had dinner on the BBQ, I decided to take my camera out for another shot of Momma and the nest from a safe distance.

As I took the picture, I suddenly realized the nest was on an extreme angle pointed downward, and the nest appeared empty except for that one egg that Momma had not been sitting on. She was out of the nest. I quickly moved and looked below the nest and my heart sank. There on the ground lay the tiniest little fleshly bodies. Something must have suddenly attacked and upset the nest to cause these new born babies to be flung to the earth. I put my camera in the house and went in behind the bush to take a closer look. Momma was in the bush flitting around and watching me. Such a pathetic little motionless heap that lay there. I felt profoundly sad.

As I knelt down to examine more closely, suddenly there was movement in the heap! The heaving of a tiny chest, the beating of a heart. At least one was alive! I shook off the thought that this was going to feel like picking up a worm, and cautiously picked up this tiny piece of flesh in disbelief. It opened its tiny beak. I allowed a fleeting thought to leave my mind - a thought to grab my camera for an amazing picture of fragile life in my hand. But I couldn't delay. Momma was becoming very distressed at my presence and I didn't have the heart to watch her be so alarmed. I paused long enough to savour the moment of holding a day old baby cardinal, less than two inches long in my hand. Then I moved over to the nest as Mom hopped around and loudly squawked at me. I righted the nest as best I could, though the cedar branches were not too sturdy, and I placed the baby inside. Then I picked up the next tiny mass of flesh. Still moving! The third - also alive! I tried to remove the pieces of mulch off of their bodies and placed them in the nest. Then I made a hasty retreat into the house so Momma could calm down. I peeked out the bedroom window to see her back in the nest sheltering her little ones.

It was not until a little later that I realized there was one baby unaccounted for. I carefully looked around again outside but alas, it is gone...unless...examine that picture of the nest above and see if you think that might be another bird next to the egg??

Time will tell whether these little rescued ones will make it. It must have been a hard landing for them. I read tonight that adult cardinals are on to building a second nest for another brood soon after the first batch are pushed off onto their own. If these little ones survive, Mom and Dad will feed them, teach them how to fend for themselves ("here's where the feeders are and this lady will keep them full for you"), and then they'll be busy starting all over again.

The cycle of human life is much different than this 'automatic' instinct we observe in nature. It requires our interaction, love, sacrifice, caring and action in the meeting of each other's needs.

The cycle of life in the bird world.

Normal.....but not without wonder.

It will always be a marvel to me.

It does not require my intervention....but it was an awesome experience to hold a moment of it in my hand!

Congrats!

Graduation day! Today we congratulate you Bethany, our daughter, for four years of very hard work, as you receive your Bachelor of Theology degree.

It's not the piece of paper that you receive today that is of the most value, nor even all the reams of knowledge that have been crammed into your brain in four years.

You have had four years out of the shelter of your parents' home to make decisions about every area of life, from food, money, travel, home, and time management; to coping with pressures of a job; deadlines for school assignments and projects; tests and exams; organizing school council functions; church involvement; interaction with people of a broad range of cultures; building a network of peers, profs, pastors, and mentors; job interviews; and having a social life in the midst of it all. But even all of that, as important as it has all been to your maturity and success in a job, it is not the most important thing you've received in graduating.

Rather, you have told us how your soul and passion have been impacted by the life you've seen lived out by your profs, pastors, and mentors, the challenges presented by them and the valuable tools, support and prayers by them for you to be more like Christ and impact the world.

I remember you e-mailing me a few months ago after you had a particularly awesome day at school. Some individuals who are impacting their community were brought in to speak to your class. One was a woman who runs a centre that provides practical, emotional, and spiritual help to people suffering from AIDS, cancer and life-threatening diseases. She asked the students in your class point blank how they are going to help people like these who need them. She brought with her a man who shared that he had been abused as a child, lived in the gay community and on the street, and has suffered greatly with AIDS and rejection. His life has been turned around and he is now helping out at this organization. Both challenged you and your classmates, asking how you are going to help a hurting world, and reminded all of you that it's all about loving people and building relationship with individuals. You mentioned also that you heard from a youth, individual and family therapist. At the conclusion of the day, you poured out your passion for youth in your e-mail and asked me to promise to remind you of this day at any time in the future when you might get tired or doubt your calling.

Recently amid all the decision making about your future, you said, " If I can just build close relationships with the young people that will be within my influence...I want to do all I can to impact their lives."

We could not be more proud of you Bethany. You have persevered when the going was rough and have not been distracted from the goal or deterred by the obstacles. But more importantly.....MUCH more importantly......you GET it. There are some hurting, growing, awesome young people out there who are waiting for you, and you are anxious to meet them. Knowledge and learning is good and useful - never wasted and spurs you on to keep learning. Earning a degree helps open doors that might not otherwise have opened. But it's God who will always equip you...He's more than enough for what you need. It's His love for people that will remain as your inspiration. Keep His passion for people alive within you and He'll direct your path into theirs.

Congratulations Bethany! We love you!!!

Underdog

So much talk of the underdog these days. I must admit I had not followed the fame of other 'underdogs' from the infamous 'Britain's Got Talent' show, and only became interested in it as I poked around on the internet after viewing Ms Boyle's performance. I was moved when I watched the first audition of Paul Potts who won it two years ago (where was I? I've never heard of him! Mind you, I hardly ever watch TV!). I was a little misty-eyed when I watched Susan Boyle though everyone else seemed to be sobbing. But....Paul Potts....he made me cry. Must be the mother in me or something. It's his face.....the puppy dog eyes...so shy....no confidence....but loves to sing opera. I hate opera. But Paul Potts mesmerized me in his first audition. Something makes me wish that these ordinary people who are suddenly pushed into the limelight, would just say no to all the money and the fame and the promises, and simply say, "Thanks. But all I wanted was to prove I could win it", and then just go on to use their talent wherever and however they would like....no agents required. To become rich and famous and 'Hollywood' instead of just ordinary kinda ruins it, don't ya think? It is the ordinary that makes them attractive. We don't need more celebrities. We need more real people.

Here's Paul Pott's initial audition....and I've thrown in one other audition by Andrew Johnston below that. Here's to ordinary people. Like you and me...maybe not with exceptional musical talent....but we are all unique and valued and extraordinary in who we are. Most of us just don't know it yet.

Simon Cowell got it right.... "You're better than you think you are...you are good!"

(Please turn off My Playlist at right before viewing!)

Are you one of the 7 million??

Over seven million people have now watched this YouTube video of Susan Boyle. Susan who?? If you're one who hasn't seen this yet, I dare you to watch it and not have a tear or two in your eye. Many weep and watch it over and over. Why? Perhaps we're reminded not to judge a book by it's cover. Perhaps we are reminded of how quickly we jump to conclusions when we have no right to. And perhaps most of us relate to the underdog with a dream. Don't ever stop dreaming.

Enjoy....and keep the kleenex handy.

The video is not able to be embedded, so I provide a link for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

Irreducible

The Irreducible Minimum.

Somewhere in the recesses of my school memories I remember struggling with math questions - factoring until you reached the minimum - couldn't go any farther - the finale - the finish. Irreducible: impossible to reduce to a simpler form of expression.

That's kind of how I view Christ willingly laying himself down on the cross.

God.... the Creator... brings His love down as far as He can go. Agonizing.... but choosing to become 'one of us' to give everything.....everything. Impossible to go any farther than giving all He had. It's finished.

Did you catch the significance of that curtain in the temple that ripped from the top to the bottom at the moment of His death? That curtain used to separate the ordinary person from the presence of a holy God. It's finished. We now have direct access. We have direct access.... to a holy God!... who loved us enough to follow through right to the end!

Does that astound you?

After all the working and searching and calculating we do...

It all comes down to this. He's the final answer.

At the cross we're all equal

He knows us..... but there's no condemnation

Forgiveness....paid in full

There's no great significance to the tree....the pieces of wood on which Christ died. But if I ever lose the wonder of what happened there....I'll be struggling with questions - toiling and factoring until I come back to the irreducible minimum.

"...May I never lose the wonder,
The wonder of the cross.
May I see it
like the first time
Standing as a sinner lost,
Undone by mercy and left
speechless,
Watching wide eyed at the cost.
May I never lose the wonder,
The wonder of the cross...."

Written by Vicky Beeching 2007

Christ didn't have any sin. But God made him become sin for us. So we can be made right with God because of what Christ has done for us.

(II Corinthians 5:21 - The Bible)

96 Parts = 96 Hours

I like to feel that I'm not useless when it comes to putting things together - you know like building bookcases or a stereo stand. Especially from Ikea. Ikea instructions often have no words....just user friendly pictures with little Pacman-like faces with smiles or frowns to show how-to or how not-to-do it.

My dear, patient husband succombed to my pleas to purchase a heavy duty 200 pound exercise home gym, because I'm all trained in weight training but hate going to the gym to use only a few specialized machines. As soon as my son moved out....well.... I waited a day....I began to set up his old bedroom as an exercise room. Rather than being resigned to the basement, I can now exercise in a bright room designed for comfort....um, I mean sweat and hard work. I have piled up old classic CDs that I haven't listened to in forever, and this room becomes a place where great music meets physical exertion. Of course a great kickstart was my doctor giving me 3 months to get my cholesterol down through diet and exercise. Weight bearing exercise helps considerably....thus we struggled to bring home the aforementioned 200 pound box.

I'll spare you the details of how it went getting the thing home....although it was rather humorous hearing the paging system in the department store as we took the item through the jewellery section to speed up the process. "Carryout to Jewellery please! Carryout to Jewellery!" (Customers had visions of huge diamonds). They sent a tiny young teenage girl to help with carryout....who summoned additional help from a male.

So there's 96 pieces to this sucker. No Pacman-like faces here. No simplistic pictures. Lots of words. And numbers. My husband perused the 'book' of directions with a wild look in his eye. But soon he was up for the challenge and said, "Some people are challenged by crossword puzzles..... (that would be me, sometimes)....others...." His voice trailed off as he spread out the 96 pieces over the table and floor.

Check out Diagram 1.

Now Diagram 2.

Now 3 and 4.

.....aaaaaaand there's more.....number 5....

And finally Diagram 6.

I concede this is too much for me. My husband got a start on it, but only had a few hours before he had to leave for Montreal for the week, so it will definitely sit until he returns.

The great thing is, that once I'm in shape, if we buy anything else this heavy, I can lift it into the trunk while my husband returns the trolley cart. That's a fair exchange since he'll have to put it together...and really....a man's got to learn how to follow directions SOMEtime.

Support Epilepsy Awareness Day - Wear Purple!

Visit The Rocky Mountain Retreat here to learn more about epilepsy (and see some absolutely stunning photography!!!) God bless you Michele!!

Seeing red

This past winter I saw red.

Mixed in among all the finches and pine siskins on the nyger feeders throughout the winter, I noticed birds with little red caps.

No, they weren't toques for warmth but these little guys are built for winter weather.

Apparently, if they can eat constantly they will withstand bitter cold and can endure colder temperatures than any other songbird.

If they run out of fuel though, they can die of hypothermia.

So you know me.

I kept them well fed all through the long cold winter.

These little guys are called Redpolls and if they've been here other winters I can't say I noticed them. Apparently, they are temperamental and will show up when they feel like it, obviously if there's a good food supply.

This past week, they disappeared.

Unlike robins, they've gone to a colder climate which they prefer.

And that, my friends, is why I could never be a Redpoll.

(My apologies for the 'gaps' - Blogger can be frustrating for photo placement!!)

Bill and Myrtle sittin' in a tree....

Tell me again how much you love me??