Happy Birthday Precious Poochie

Our puppy is 10 years old today. When our children were 11 and almost 9 we decided it was time to have a dog in the family. Two doors down from us lived a perfect Golden retriever named Chelsea. She needed no leash. No word of a lie....she would pick up her toys and put them away when asked. She knew the neighbours by name and could go to the right one when their name was mentioned. She wore boots in the winter while she pranced obediently beside her master. We decided we wanted a perfect Golden retriever too. (You know where I'm going with this...)
My husband and I visited the breeders prior to taking our kids there and well......NEVER go and look at puppies unless you have decided beforehand you are getting one. We told the kids in November that if they were willing to pool their money from their newspaper routes along with ours, we would be able to afford a puppy for Christmas. They very excitedly agreed and we visited the breeders to choose our Christmas puppy. We chose the darkest in the litter. Nikki had been born on October 23rd 1997 . The breeder marked her head with a dab of red nail polish to signify she was 'taken'. She was still too young to leave her mother.

On December 24th we went to the office of the breeder to pick up our new member of the family. Nikki was peacefully lying on a bookshelf next to a cat. (She'd never admit to that now....cats are the enemy). She would not look into our eyes and she puked in the van on the ride home. We could not leave her alone at that age, so she accompanied us to a Christmas Eve gathering and two family Christmas parties on Christmas day. At my brother's house, Nikki met the cat who was larger than her. She peed on their carpet.

Why is it that mothers get delegated for the all the toilet training in the household? Many a morning (that would be 4 am), I was in the backyard under the big pine tree, with pyjamas, boots, winter coat and umbrella, shivering in the cold drizzle waiting for Nikki to pee. She chose instead (after whimpering to go out)to just lie down and chew sticks.

The first year was full of hair and joy and hair and mud and hair and chewed furniture and hair and diarrhea-plastered cage (I'll spare you that story...shudder), and did I mention hair? But mostly joy. I would watch as Chelsea...the perfect Golden..... with the perfect gait......would prance by our house on her walks.

Inside, Nikki would scout out garbage cans, counters and tables for food, papers to rip up, or other crunchy (eyeglasses are crunchy!), chewy things. One morning we had to send a shredded school project in a plastic baggie to the teacher - the dog really did eat the homework! Outside, she loved to jump up on you and grasp your arm in her mouth ...or try to dig her way to China through the lawn. I remember painstakingly laying down landscape fabric to block weeds along the whole edge of my long garden and I covered it with mulch. Then I let the dog outside.... Moments later, Nikki discovered one corner of the fabric I hadn't quite covered. She took that corner in her mouth and ran the length of the garden with it. All of my hours of labour....ripped up in 20 seconds. What can you do? I had to laugh. She smiled so proudly at her accomplishment!

My husband took her to obedience school (I failed the classes with our last dog), and Nikki passed very nicely and settled down somewhat after that. Unfortunately, those classes do not teach dogs how to use a vacuum cleaner.

I had fun on her first birthday. I had noticed the name and address of the owner of one of Nikki's sisters when we were signing some papers to purchase our puppy. The sister lived on the same street I grew up on so I had found the house and remembered where she lived. We would actually sneak peeks at her from time to time in her yard. On Nikki's first birthday, I snuck a doggie treat bag into the mailbox at this house with a happy birthday note for Nikki's sister along with our phone number. It was not long before the phone rang with a very excited person wanting to bring 'Sarah' over to meet her sister. What a reunion it was! The two stuck to each other like glue and pranced around our backyard together. I hated to see them part, and I regret that we did not keep in touch.

Once we passed the two year period.... as we had been assured by other Golden owners...Nikki settled down quite nicely and has been a wonderful companion. Just don't wear dark clothing around her! If you wear dark socks to our place you will notice lots of hair on them even if we vacuumed right before you came.

And now she has retired...yes she is a senior. Another bit of advice? Put aside money for your pet's pension years....it's going to cost you...big time. On top of the normal care of a dog...shots, checkups... there are special senior check-ups, various medications, senior food, and a charge for urine collection (unless you want to follow your dog around with a small container until she decides she has to go....then hope she doesn't miss and you don't spill it....take our advice...you don't want to do this). Nikki now has arthritis in her back legs and must take pain medication to enable her to manage the stairs. When people see her dart out the front door or take off after a rabbit, they don't believe us....but she really is arthritic. She just thinks she's still that pup with boundless energy. (Mhmmm...I can totally relate).

And so....here's to you Nikki....Happy 10th birthday!! You bring us much joy and loving attention (and hair) and for that we (and the vacuum cleaner) salute you. With much love, fur-filled hugs, and slobbery kisses from your family!

For those with the need to know

The bathroom is finally finished! Yes, that project I started 2 months ago is complete.....well as much as possible. I still want new taps and faucets and a new toilet...but those things will have to wait until there is money for such luxuries.

I think back to the mess this room was....when I literally wanted to cry for the amount of work it was to scrape and scrape and scrape, and purge out the mould and mildew. It was so hot and I wondered if it was worth the aggravation. Couldn't I just somehow cover it all up?? Or walk away and forget I ever started?

Preparation is worth it. Sweat, tears, hard work, and determination are worth it. Perseverance is worth it.

Got a mess on your hands? Don't walk away. Anything worthwhile requires effort. Allow 'preparation' the time it requires. Get rid of the grime underneath the surface. Scrape down to what matters....cry if you must. Purge the deepest layers. Then...when the bottom layer is cleansed...and only then....begin to build. One day your reward will not be fleeting and your efforts will bring lasting results.

Here's a rather cool version of Psalm 51:1-17 from the Message Bible that my bathroom somehow reminds me of. (Call me strange) :

"Generous in love—God, give grace! Huge in mercy—wipe out my bad record. Scrub away my guilt, soak out my sins in your laundry. I know how bad I've been; my sins are staring me down. You're the One I've violated, and you've seen it all, seen the full extent of my evil. You have all the facts before you; whatever you decide about me is fair. I've been out of step with you for a long time, in the wrong since before I was born.

What you're after is truth from the inside out. Enter me, then; conceive a new, true life. Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life. Tune me in to foot-tapping songs, set these once-broken bones to dancing. Don't look too close for blemishes, give me a clean bill of health. God, make a fresh start in me, shape a Genesis week from the chaos of my life. Don't throw me out with the trash, or fail to breathe holiness in me. Bring me back from gray exile, put a fresh wind in my sails! Give me a job teaching rebels your ways so the lost can find their way home. Commute my death sentence, God, my salvation God, and I'll sing anthems to your life-giving ways. Unbutton my lips, dear God; I'll let loose with your praise.

Going through the motions doesn't please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you. I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don't for a moment escape God's notice."

Ripples

Our decisions and choices in life are like a drop of water. Seem so small, insignificant, not of much importance to anyone but ourselves.





What we often fail to notice is the ripple effect. One small decision....one selfish action....sends out ripples....that affect many....some with lifelong consequences.


We can't begin to comprehend how many feel the ripples or what their names are ....it would surprise and astound us if we knew.

We do not live to ourselves. Our sphere of influence is much greater than we can suppose.

Who is to blame if the ripples from my actions have negative affects on others?

Me.

I can blame no one else, nor can I judge someone else's actions. I am responsible for me. I don't know how far my influence goes. Whether I realize it or not, many depend on me for moral actions and right choices.

I hold the power to build...or tear down. Encourage...or discourage. Live truth...or ignore it. Be real...or hide beneath a mask. Face my mistakes....or run from them.

Imagine a world where everyone took responsibility for just their own actions and no longer based decisions on selfishness? Men and women would not selfishly use each other....no rape....no murder... no abuse....no deceit....no cheating....no families with an absentee mom or a dad....no broken commitments....no poor and starving...no one uncared for.


I can't change the world. But I can choose to allow God to change me. I have to care enough to want it. It is my choice whether the ripples that inevitably spread from my actions are positive or negative. Wouldn't it be awesome for our country to be awash in unselfishness? It all starts here. With me.



"Nothing is going to change in the Congo until you and I figure out what is wrong with the person in the mirror." Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz

Remedy - David Crowder Band

If you have ever even remotely enjoyed any of David Crowder's music, run...do not walk...to the store and buy his new CD entitled 'Remedy'. In my humble opinion, this is his best CD yet....uplifting and challenging.


"...Here we are
Bandaged and bruised
Awaiting a cure.....
....Here You are
Our beautiful King
Bringing relief....
....You're the remedy....
Let us be the remedy
Let us bring the remedy...."

Remedy, Written by David Crowder

"...And so we must choose
What our hands will do...

And the problem it seems
Is with you and me
Not the Love who came
To repair everything....

Where there is pain
Let us bring grace
Where there is suffering
Bring serenity
For those afraid
Let us be brave
Where there is misery
Let us bring them relief

And surely we can change
Surely we can change
Oh surely we can change
Something."

Surely We Can Change, Written by David Crowder

Smoothin out the wrinkles

Perhaps it's because it's only been a few weeks since I was filling in holes and cracks in the bathroom walls with this......

.......that I wondered when I saw an advertisement for this beauty product yesterday.......

..........for 45 bucks, does it come with a free putty knife?

Facebook...or MyFace....or Spacebook

The older generations are getting into Facebook too.......

(......but maybe all generations are losing it....)

Ready for pumpkins....not

About a month ago....when it was still blisteringly hot....my daughter made the remark, "I'm ready for pumpkins now." She had started seeing some seasonal reminders at the lovely market where she works and started longing for the sights and smells of autumn. Of course, what she really meant was that she was anxious to get back to school because she loves it. Too bad for most (but not all) of us who love summer and never want it to end...or at least would like it extended until November 1st (when I traditionally put up the Christmas tree).

I didn't realize until last night how obvious and deliberate I have been in my opinion about the end of summer. I sit on a Board, and last night a fellow Board member very kindly said, "Lyn I remember something about this time of year.....that it's a difficult time for you....but I can't remember why." She was gently trying to learn if perhaps I had lost a loved one at this time of year and the memories were flooding back. I laughed and told her not to feel bad for me. For the last several years my personal 'revolt' against the beginning of school and routine has been to take the first week of September off of work. I was never ready to leave the lazy, laidback summer days of blank calendars, and jump into tearing around, making kids lunches, driving them to school through all the traffic which just increased by 90 per cent, going to work, then picking them up, keeping their schedules straight and making sure we knew all the important dates and things they needed to remember, etc. and ad nauseum. (And we've only got two kids!) So my revolt was to get them to school and then have the rest of the days of that week to rejuvenate myself emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically...which I really should have been doing all summer...and prepare myself with 'new year's resolutions' (which I'd get a second shot at in January). It was my way of saying summer's not over yet and I have one more week before I must jump into organized chaos like everyone else is this week.

I am quite enjoying our half-empty nest now. Our 'kids' take care of themselves. Our most difficult tasks these days is opening our wallets for them, or handing them the keys to the car. September is not the stress it used to be. So I'm saving my holidays for better things...like scraping paint in the bathroom (which is still not completed).

The past few days have had that distinctive cool September edge to the mornings and evenings where my body has shivered and been drawn to the jacket that hasn't been touched for so long. I find it so difficult to give up warm summer evenings filled with crickets and fireflys, garden candles and gurgling of water as it spills into the pond; evening drives with moon roof open exposing stars and meteor showers; ice cream, freshly picked fruit and the freshest of vegetables. I refuse to exchange sandals for socks or nylons until my toes feel like icicles.

I actually do love the changes of the seasons here in Canada, once I've accepted that there's nothing I can do about the cold when it sets in. They remind me of God's faithfulness. Even if seasons seem to come earlier or later from year to year, even with 'climate change' and what we do to destroy our environment, seasons always arrive one way or another in the way that is customary in your part of the world. I don't remember an autumn here that the leaves didn't start to change colour even if it remained warmish. I don't remember a fall when the days didn't get shorter, even if we stretched daylight savings time on the clock. The plants still die in the winter season as seeds and bulbs lay beneath soil insulated by snow, waiting for warmer and longer days when they will miraculously burst into life in my favorite of all seasons...the season of new life. I wait all the long winter in anticipation of it. I don't remember a spring that never came, even if it was late or early or seemed shorter or longer. They are faithful to come. The universe is orderly and the sun and moon are set in their place. Does that excite you? Does it make you think that there is a God in control even when the events in our lives seem somehow out of sync, when we're not sure why things aren't the way we planned?

Gaze up into the sky and stare at the stars or the moon for a while. Always in their place. Always. Why? Rest assured. In chaos, in anxiety, in confusion, and in loss. He is there. Holding it all in place. Even more amazing....He tells us He desperately loves us. And that is very cool....cooler than snowcones and icicles in winter!

"...The moon keeps track of the seasons, the sun is in charge of each day..." (The Message Bible, Psalm 104:19)

" Thank the miracle-working God, His love never quits. The God whose skill formed the cosmos, His love never quits. The God who laid out earth on ocean foundations, His love never quits. The God who filled the skies with light, His love never quits. The sun to watch over the day, His love never quits. Moon and stars as guardians of the night, His love never quits..." (The Message Bible, Psalm 136: 4-9)

Watchin' you like a hawk

My husband called to me the other day to grab my camera and come to the living room window. I obediently hurried and did so and this is what I saw.....

He was surveying the neighbourhood from this unexpected 'perch'. It wasn't his first visit around here. Not long ago we saw him pursuing a squirrel. Being as I'm a songbird and chipmunk lover, I don't want to think about what he enjoys eating. I have to admit he's rather handsome. My research tells me he's probably a Cooper's hawk and I guess over the last few years with the banning of pesticides, these hawks now frequent city neighbourhoods in addition to their country territory. And why not? With crazies like me around who continually fill bird feeders....with backyards and front yards full of rodents and birds.... it's like fine dining for the likes of this creature. I just purchased a finch feeder that accommodates up to 16 finches because there are over a dozen beautiful goldfinches dining at any given time....either on the feeders or on the coneflowers.

Last evening my husband called to me again to grab the camera. This time it was a skunk ambling around the front porch and garden! He paused for a long drink from the birdbath that is at ground level. It was too dark to get a good shot of him....and I wasn't about to go outside to get closer. I was glad I had just brought the dog inside. Now if this hawk was nocturnal and enjoyed skunk souffle, he and I would have an understanding..... (I don't mean that. The skunk was rather adorable).

(Thank you Wikipedia)

My bird and nature watching must be rubbing off on my husband. I mean....for his first reaction to be for me to grab the camera, rather than to run out and chase the hawk off of his 'new' 'precious' car....that surprised me. (He insisted we replace the whole bumper of the car after we recently got rear-ended while driving to a funeral, even though I really didn't notice that much damage to the bumper to warrant all that insurance money.) However, as soon as that hawk glided silently and smoothly off....he was out there inspecting the car for scratches!

I'll check our policy...but I don't expect the car insurance covers damage from hawk talons....or other messes!

It's a bird....it's a plane...

Our community looks forward each year to an airshow held to raise funds for the United Way. It's well attended in part because the Canadian forces Snowbirds are featured. Friends of ours live on farmland within sight of our small airport, so they kindly host a BBQ each year for friends and family to gather for a wonderful view of the planes as they perform their precision aerobatics overhead. This year I attended the BBQ and once the action began, I moved to the edge of the property to attempt some digital shots....you know....take 75 shots to get 3 good ones.





I snapped away and marvelled at the skill of these pilots. For nine pilots to fly wing-tip-to-wing-tip and be so precise in their manoevres...it always astounds me. My favourite move is when the planes fly towards each other at high speed, and though you are sure they will collide, they of course never do. I wonder just how much time and effort is involved in the mechanical work on the planes to ensure their safe operation, and the training of the pilots to learn their stuff so well.














As I leaned on the fence, the crew flew off into the blue, out of sight for many minutes as they regrouped. Something else caught my eye in the field and I turned to watch it. I had to smile. Because it was something that could boast far more flying precision and skill than the planes and their pilots....far more flexibility, agility, and ability, and didn't require refueling....didn't require a pilot.




A lowly dragonfly. It dived and swooped with great speed, then hovered before careening out of sight. Everyone's eyes were on the skies, searching for the airplanes....but here in a farmer's field was an aerobatic wonder that no one paid any attention to. And yet if truth were told....it was upstaging the entertainment by a longshot.












Hummingbirds are another tiny creature whose antics and abilities amaze me. No creation of a *man's hand can ever match these insects and birds that we often give no thought to.


How is it that we recognize the work of a *man's hand....we marvel at the awesomeness of his creations; his amazing abilities and skills and knowledge. We peer into the clouds, shielding our eyes from the sun as we strain to see men and women's skills displayed in the air. But did we miss seeing those clouds.....that sun....the trees....the breeze......the grass brimming with life above and below the soil, as countless insects, birds and animals far more complex than anything a man could ever create, fulfill their role in the chain of life? Why don't they amaze and astound us? Worse yet, could we believe that there is no intelligence, thought, or design behind their creation? Do the planets randomly align themselves in perfect, continuous order? Is it coincidence that the sun stays exactly where it needs to for this earth to survive? Could I believe that an airplane needs intelligence behind it to be created and function as planned... but an insect, bird, animal, human or universe does not....they just.....happened?







I'll never forget the Toronto Airshow we attended several years ago. The announcer excitedly shouted, "And now folks....here are......your CANADIAN SNOWBIRDS!!!!!" With no word of a lie, at that very moment, a flock of Canadian geese flew in formation across the waterfront in front of the thousands of spectators who erupted in applause at these true Canadian birds who gracefully displayed their elegance. No airplane can ever duplicate the natural ability and complexity of a bird.



For those who believe there is no God, I give them credit for their strength of belief. I could just never summon enough faith to become an atheist. I'm a stargazer and a birdwatcher.




*man (mankind...includes women :-) )

Not a-peeling at all

This past week won't go down as one of my greatest holidays - memorable yes, but not exactly brimming with excitement. I took the week off work to remove paint and wallpaper from my bathroom. I will admit though that it's amazing what spiritual applications you can learn on a stepladder in the bathtub while your head is stuck up in the recesses of the ceiling.

The mildew in the shower has been so hard to keep a handle on and everytime I cleaned, more paint would peel from the walls and ceiling above a marble tub surround. The tool rental place said a heat gun, paint stripper thingy could not be used on the plaster as the paint would melt into it. So last week from Monday to Thursday I scraped, and scraped, and scraped, and scraped...sometimes making only a few inches progress per hour it seemed. My arms ached from holding them above my head for so long and my back and legs groaned from standing on the ladder (poor me!). Often (about every 30 minutes) I just wanted to forget it, clean it as best I could and paint over top of the mess. But I know that preparation is far more important than slapping the paint on....otherwise, without a good base beneath the paint, I will be right back here again in a year or two.

Preparation. Without the endless hours of preparation, everything on the surface may look good for a bit...but eventually, the dirt and the ugliness seeps through and it is seen for what it really is. As I chipped away at the paint, I ridiculously wanted to ask God to please just make the paint all come off easily for me. After all, this was my 'holiday' and it was taking all week just to get this far! Instead though, I found myself asking God if He ever found me this terribly difficult to get through to.... to 'scrape' and get to the 'real' me (kinda like the 'layers of the onion' to use Shrek terms...). I wasn't sure I wanted to hear His answer. As He tries to shape my character to be more like Him and attempts to peel away the worst parts of me, I wonder if I stubbornly cling to the familiar, not allowing Him to prepare me for results that He already knows are beautiful. Stupid thing is...if I try to conceal the crappier parts of me, I fool only myself. God can clearly see me. And others will eventually see me for who I am, when God chips away the exterior shell. So why fight it?

Ever noticed that the cool guys in the Bible....the ones we view as heroes....all went through preparation times in their lives before the excitement began? Joseph, Mr. Technicolour Coat guy, was the dreamer. Ended up in a pit...and in jail for what must have seemed forever. But it was preparation for being the leader of the country....and he passed preparation classes with flying (techni)colours. Same with David...shepherd boy on hills....considered nobody by everybody but God. God saw a giant slayer and a king in the little guy. So he prepared him through events over time out there on the hills.

Preparation seems like a lifetime...and in some cases....I guess it really is. At one point last week I had been scraping off wallpaper behind the toilet and I had just had enough...I was literally ready to cry. I was carefully working to preserve the wallpaper border that I've had for a few years because I really like it, so I was planning to 'frame' it with chair rail and wainscotting. My son walked in the bathroom to ask me something, and thinking he was helping me, he took a corner of my beloved border and in a fraction of a second ripped a big strip of it off the wall! He obviously saw a look of extreme horror on my face as I shrieked 'DON'T!!!!' He vanished quickly, especially when the nature of his question to me involved my credit card. Isn't life like that? We get to a point of just having had enough...wanting to throw in the towel....and someone comes and rips a strip off us - the only good thing we had left. Even so, it is our reaction to this stuff that is more important than the circumstances of our life. Two people experiencing the same painful event in their lives can have two completely different outlooks....one may be gracious, peaceful, and radiate humility....the other may be miserable, self absorbed, and seek pity from others. Who would you rather be around? Who is more like Jesus?

I wish I could show you a picture of my finished bathroom. But it's not done yet. Thankfully the messiest part is over and it is useable, but I have a ways to go yet. That phrase comes to mind...."Please be patient with me. God's not finished with me yet." Life would be too boring if God was finished with us. As long as we're living in an imperfect world around people, there will be many more moments of scraping, sanding, smoothing, and cleaning. Preparation is unavoidable. Our reaction to it is our choice. God says He sees something beautiful in me. I choose to believe Him and choose to let Him change me where He sees problems....and maybe I'll avoid a few unnecessary messes in my life!

Take me OUT OF the ballgame....please

'Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks....' lalala lalalalalala.............

I think that was a ballgame we went to today. The Toronto BlueJays put on a lacklustre performance, but at least they won. We missed the one and only run of the game...through a series of unfortunate events we didn't make it to the Roger's Centre until the top of the 4th inning! In less than 2 hours, we were leaving again. But nothing tops the ballgame we went to when our kids were much younger....

It started with a police officer pulling us over for speeding when we'd detoured to a suburb to get some gas. The nice officer let us off with a warning. We only missed the top of the first inning...but believe it or not the Jays were already losing by 13-0! They hadn't even been up to bat yet!!! Other late comers around us were incredulous at the score. It was a premonition for the rest of the day I think.

Our kids had each brought a friend. My son's friend ate an entire large bag of popcorn slathered in butter. Suddenly.... he ejected his stomach's contents all over a spectator who sat directly in front of him! I will spare you a descriptive picture of that scene. You've never seen people clear a section of seating so quickly! Staff at the (then named) Skydome were kind enough to present the poor recipient of the 'chunky' (sorry) shower with a free T-shirt as he went to the washroom to change. He was thankfully very patient with the whole thing. It was good for my son to see the cleanup crew in action at the Dome so he won't pursue that as a full-time career. No one sat anywhere near us after that. We left soon after. There was obviously no hope for the Jays...I have forgotten the final score. The ride home was not much better. Our poor sick little friend threw up into a bag all the loooong way home....while my daughter and her friend (and us!) thought that trip would never end!

So hey, today was not so bad at all! It was a beautiful day and we took advantage after the game by visiting a park we've come to love in Toronto. Here's some snaps. Enjoy. And a little advice? Never eat popcorn at a ballgame. It don't look too good if you see it again.