Hmmmm. Interesting...

VIOLET You surround yourself with art and music and are constantly driven to express yourself. You often daydream. You prefer honesty in your relationships and belive strongly in your personal morals. Find out your color at Quiz Me!

Just a quick post:

Max loves the equipment he gets to wear at LC&T. He's been waiting all summer for this mask to arrive. He immediately started to personalize it; adding the black bands as soon as he got home.
My mom's spot at the lake. On the deck with a stack of magazines and a glass of cold water. She likes the breeze and the shade.
Max's spot is inside. On the couch. Watching Satelite TV; usually 8 solid hours of The Simpsons. Drew, on the other hand, is either on the tramp or in the lake. Me? Where ever the sun is shining is where you'll find me.


Drew is blogging again... www.keepintouch-md.blogspot.com

I'm packing up for Creationfest. And answering the phone. It's been ringing all day.
"Hi Jane. Do you have room for all the stuff I can't fit? When can I bring it over?"
"Hey Jane. Can you fit 3 extra passsengers in your Durango? And all their stuff?
"Hi Jane. We have three car loads of stuff to be loaded into your Durango and Motor Home. When is the best time to drop that off?"

Oy Vey.
I have my own 8 people and all our stuff plus, well, a whole lot more to transport down to the Gorge. How am I going to make it all fit?
I shoulda played Tetris more.


My cousin called and offered me the use of a 2 bedroom condo on the 9th hole of some golf course at some country club in Phoenix during the first two weeks of September. OHhhhhh. I want to go. Soooooo badly. I probably have enought air miles for a free flight... but... yeeesh. I was in Europe this year. And I'm taking a week of now for Creation. I've only been at this job for 6 months...
But. Man I LOVE Phoenix. And it would be awesome in September. Simply awesome.

I'm sure I checked off "Princess Lifestyle" on that form.
How did I end up with this "Working Girl" status?
Sucks.

'K. That's it for me.
Got at least 2 more loads of laundry to deal with.
And, of course, as is normal for me, I've got to have the main floor of the house totally tidied before I can leave on a holiday.

Sigh.


"If you want to leave your footprints on the sands of time, be sure you're wearing workboots."
Italian Proverb

A Public service announcement:

RECOGNIZING A STROKE
Susie is recouping at an incredible pace for someone with a massive stroke all because Sherry saw Susie stumble. That is the key that isn't mentioned below. Sherry saw Susie stumble and then she asked Susie the 4 questions. So simple... this literally saved Susie's life. Some angel sent it to Suzie's friend and she did just what it said to do. Suzie failed all four so 911 was called. Even though she had normal blood pressure readings and did not appear to be having a stroke, as she could converse to some extent with the Paramedics, they took her to the hospital right away.
Thank God for the sense to remember the 4 steps!
Read and Learn!
Sometimes symptoms of a stroke are difficult to identify. Unfortunately, the lack of awareness spells disaster. The stroke victim may suffer brain damage when people nearby fail to recognize the symptoms of a stroke. Now doctors say a bystander can recognize a stroke by asking four simple questions:

Ask the individual to SMILE.
Ask him or her to RAISE BOTH ARMS.
Ask the person to SPEAK A SIMPLE SENTENCE.
Ask the person to STICK OUT THEIR TONGUE.

If he or she has trouble with any of these tasks, call 911 immediately and describe the symptoms to the dispatcher.

Ode to Billie's Country

It was grade 10. Job Prep 10 was the course. Johnston Heights was the school. For our work experience we were to choose 5 places of business from the extensive list of companies that were willing to train 15 year olds for one week. My first 4 choices were clothing stores in the mall; thinking that if I eventually was offered a job, I'd get a new wardrobe with the kick-ass staff discount I was certain all establishments gave. As a last minute, what the heck, I gotta put something down, business name, I chose The Hobby Hut in Langley.

It was grade 10. He had incredible brown eyes and I liked the way he looked from behind when he walked.

Grade 10.
Still a kid.
Max is going into grade 10 for goodness sake...

The choices I made that year had a profound effect on how my life turned out.
After 7 years of dating, I married the cute guy from my Science 10 class.
And after working at the Hobby Hut for all my high school years, I continued in the craft industry - working 16 years at Billie's Country.



My niece is staying with us this week to watch Drew while Max and I work. What's the first thing I did in preparation for her arrival beside fumigate Clint's room? Stop in at Michael's for craft supplies. Why? Because that's what I've always done with my kids in the summertime. Make things.
Would I have done that if my first job had been at Fairweather's? I wonder.
My kids have an artist streak in them. Comes from both sides. Would they have been so agreeable about crafting if I had married a Mennonite farmer? I wonder.

I got home from work to this:

Not even looking up, he says, "Hi mom. Let me guess. You're going to get your camera."
Smart ass.


My mom called earlier.
Billie's is definitely, finally, completely SOLD.
Two years of contracts that didn't complete later - we have a deal.

Even though I said my "good-byes" to Billie's in '03 when we thought we had a solid deal - today I miss it. Buying craft supplies for Drew at Michael's seems wrong. I got Clint and Max's summer stuff wholesale - through Billie's. Michael's is... well, you know. You shop there. Everyone shops there.

Anyway, it's sold. The building belongs to someone else now.
That is just plain weird.

Nothing lasts forever.
It took awhile.
But I'm not bound by those grade 10 decisions any more.

The night after we cleaned out Billie's I wrote the following:

“Is this for sale?”
“What?”
“That sign on the bathroom door.”
“The sign that says Washroom?”
“Yes. How much is that sign?”
“Uh. It’s not for sale. Crafts and gifts are on sale: 60% off.”
“Oh. I can’t buy that sign?”
“Sorry, no.”
She walks out of the back workroom and into the craft side of the store.
“Are the shelves for sale?”
“Which shelves?”
“The ones on the wall.”
“The slat wall shelves?””Yes. The slat wall. Is it for sale?”
“Uhh. It’s part of the wall. It’s glued and screwed onto the wall.”
“Yes. But is it for sale?”
“Uh. It’s part of the wall. I can’t sell you the wall. It’s attached to the building.”
“So I can’t buy it?”
“Sorry, no. The walls are not for sale. We need them to hold up the roof.”
She wanders around the store and I lose sight of her. Once she leaves my field of vision, she’s someone else’s problem. Candace is at the cash register, she can deal with her.

I’m at Billie’s Country, boxing up all the unsold merchandise. The building has been sold and the inventory needs to be cleared out by 9:00 am Friday Oct 31. It’s late on Thursday afternoon, and the world’s weirdest customers have been out looking for deals.
Helping my mom pack up wiggle eyes and candle holders are Candace and Donna; faithful employees to the very end. Plus, my kids are in the building. As well as my sister and her family. There’s a party atmosphere in the air. (Donna’s daughter calls her on the phone to inquire about dinner, then suspiciously asks, “Are you guys drinking down there?”) We were. Went through 10 litres of root beer.

Yesterday I emptied my desk. 16 years worth of catalogues, files, order forms, and correspondence were set at my curb this morning for the recycling truck to cart away. As I emptied files, I had flashbacks, remembering the conventions and shows where I first saw the products. Mark and I travelled to those shows together, Washington DC, Vegas, San Diego, Anaheim… me checking out the latest craft innovations, him carrying all the brochures and flyers… Good memories. Warm fuzzies.

From my desk I could see the now empty classroom area. Whoa. For the first ten years of Billie’s, that classroom area was THE happening place in Surrey. Thousands of women took hundreds of classes a year. It was a vibrant, exciting, inspirational environment…an awesome place to learn, share, and create. I was so proud of our classes. Especially when a non-crafter would utter in hushed amazement, “I can’t believe I made this. My husband will be blown away. I can’t wait to show him…” Helping build young women’s self esteem was an unexpected by-product of those classes.
These past few years, the basement has been used more for children’s classes. Candace and Donna were kept busy with Kid’s Kraft Kamp, Birthday Parties and Mom ‘n Me classes. I taught crafts to elementary school kids who would come through Billie’s on field trips. I received hugs and affirmation daily from little girls who loved gluing and painting, “Thanks Mrs. O, this was the best fieldtrip ever…”
Awesome memories…

Back upstairs, I can hear my kids. My sons. They’ve “grown up” in this store. All of them, until they started kindergarten spent their days with me here at work. They were my companions on my weekly wholesaling trips. “I think we should buy these, mom.” They had their favorite stores, and considered the wholesalers their friends. They’ve all helped me price merchandise, stock shelves, set up displays, make samples and use the till. And now, they’re helping me box up and close down. They are having fun. They will remember this night, the night Billie’s closed… the night they anointed the soil with all the left over potpourri oil… the night they were told to take what ever they wanted (and they did. Including all the gold glitter spraycans because they think they’ll blow up good in a fire)… the night they transferred all the stuff Nan just couldn’t part with, up to the spare bedroom in the farmhouse… the night we all ate Kentucky fried chicken on the floor in front of the till…

I will remember this night too.
Just like I remember the night before we opened up in August ’87…Clint was a few months old, in his seat, watching while we inflated balloons, swept the porch, straightened out all the shelves… it felt like a celebration that evening too.
So many good good times have happened at this place.
Sigh…

“I can’t believe it” Candace hissed as she came into the backroom for another box.
“What?” I asked.
“That woman.”
“The one who wanted to buy the walls?”
“Yeah. After wandering for an hour, she brought her basket to the front. $5.00 worth of stuff. AND! Our power bars and extension cords. She unplugged the lamps and picked up the cords and bars and asked how much they were!!!”
“Get out.”
“Yeah. Told her they weren’t for sale, but she said they were on the floor, so she wanted to know how much they were…”

None of us are going to miss the stupid customers.

WWFTWPSD

Chores were done. But they had a drop of energy leftover.
Clearly it was time for the World Wrestling Federation Trampoline and Wading Pool Splash Down.

(Drew is the one getting slammed. Max in his clown shorts is da wienner.)

A Boy and His Sprinkler

I know! I'll pretend I'm the Terminator and the water sprinkles are bullets. They won't kill me.
"I am the Ter...
min...
ate...
orr."

Wonk us willya?

I think he channeled Mr. Rogers and added a Michael Jackson twist as he played this character.

Disturbing, mostly.

Didn't drool once.

Still, underneath that thick layer of white make up and retarded hair do, is a skeleton with amazing cheekbones. Not to mention perfect lips.

The weekend is almost over. Which might be a good thing, considering this one was completely made up spontaneous late night activities.
Yawn.


Three things I'm thankful for:
1. I have enough energy to be enthusiastic when the kids want to do something random after 10 pm.
2. Their bizaare plans are not illegal, unsafe or immoral.
3. I am still included in their plans.

(Well, yeah. OK.I know I'm mostly along as a chauffuer and finacer, but still....)

Have you got your copy?

“Let’s get some pizza,” he interjects mid-way through his commentary.
It’s close to 11 pm and we’re on our way home. His week at camp is over and he’s been animated while talking about his experiences.
He calls Panago and orders our standard Friday night meal, a large cheese only and a small ham ‘n pineapple. We’ll wash that down with 2 litres of Barq’s Rootbeer.
“And then, I landed right on my knee and smashed my kneecap.”
“Why were you skateboarding?” I asked.
“I had some free time today. First time since training that I’ve had an hour to do whatever I wanted. And so I went to the skate park and tried to learn how. During teen camp I want to be able to video them from behind while riding a board…”
He’s full of stories. About skits, waterfront, beach party, archery, all nighters, lack of equipment…The rest of us in the truck just listen to him talk.

We swing by the Pizza place and pick up our late night snack.
Sitting around the kitchen table, conversation continues. Clint feels separated from the “real” world while living at camp so he asks Max what’s been happening. Max (who now is a huge fan of the Daily Show) gives a comical recounting of the accidental sale of 14 Harry Potter books earlier this week and the Supreme Court of Canada’s involvement.
“When is Harry Potter going on sale?” Clint asks.
“Tonight at midnight at Chapters,” Max replies.
They look at each other. “Let’s go.”

“Your family is so random,” Mandi says to Drew as they get in the Durango’s back seat.
“Yeah. We are.” Drew agrees proudly.

Fifteen minutes later we joined the nerdiest, weirdest, bizaarest, sweatiest assembly of human beings ever to congregate in a book store.
We were given a number as we passed through the door. Lucky us. We were the 326th customer allowed to purchase the 6th book in Harry’s series. Seconds later the countdown to 12:01 began.
10.9.8.7.6.5.4.3.2.1
Clint threw his arms around Max and gave him a huge hug. “Happy New Year man.”
“This is the single greatest moment in my life,” Max responded, dripping with emotion.
The girls behind them giggled, "They're so funny..."

They kept busy while I protected our spot in the line. Borrowing two ornamental brooms from the creative display at the front of the store, they made like janitors and went through the store sweeping up the considerable mess left behind from the massive crowds, muttering like two ol’ men doing their job.

Then they put the brooms between their legs and pretended to fly. “Up, up and away…”

When they came back to the line to check on my progress they confirmed that “this is the line for the new Star Wars movie, right?”
Antsy and needing to move, they tucked the brooms between their legs and rode away like the Lone Ranger and Tonto.

Minutes later they were back.
“Our horses were seized. This is the line up for the 4th Lord of the Rings book right?”
“Some guy wanted to know what our intentions were with those brooms. Nerd.”

By 1:00 we were done. (Which is brilliant marketing. Simply brilliant.)
My boss has written a book on Mentoring that will be released in October. I'm to plan the book launch.
Wonder if I can leak a few copies and then get the Supreme Court of Canada involved? I'm sensing I should have brooms on hand as well....

"Hey," Clint observes as he looks over his purchase, "This one isn't as long as her last one."
"Yeah," Max says, "She's getting lazy. The next one will be a pamphlet."



Three things I'm thankful for:
1. It's the weekend. Even if it's another wet one.
2. Conversation. Amongst my boys.
3. Ozonzol. Heals the cracks in my heals. Overnight.


Take care,

I've got the mammograph appointment phone number right here in front of me. Doubt anyone would be able to help me at this hour.
Pulled out 6 weeds then remembered that Round Up is my friend.
I walked to and from my truck 14 times today...not sure if that counts as 'going on a walk'...
And I didn't finish reading any stinkin book. Maybe tomorrow.

So much for lists.

Three things that make me smile:
1. "That" sound my computer makes when new mail arrives.
2. The sound of a dryer. Especially when it's the last load.
3. The love birds next door cooing in their cage on the patio.

Not so much -
The sound of crows RIGHT OUTSIDE MY OPEN WINDOW at 4:52 am fighting over the brass jingle bells Drew and Zac lobbed into my gutters with tennis rackets. It might have been funny to watch at, say, 4;52 PM...ornery crows with jingle bells in beaks...but not at the crack o dawn.

Take care,

Just a picture of a big dumb bird.
What makes it special though, is the way it ended up in my blog.
"Blogger" has made it easier to post photos.
I learned a new thing.
Painlessly.


Ten things I want to do tomorrow:
1. Get up and give myself 45 minutes to prepare for the day, as opposed to the usual 25 frantic ones.
2. Pull out the weeds that are flourishing in my concrete patio cracks, instead of ignoring them.
3. Send the birthday cards that are getting squished in the bottom of my overnight bag.
4. Bake banana chocolate chip muffins. Or just throw away the old bananas.
5. Finish reading "Trace" by Patricia Cornwell and not start another book.
6. Fertilize my planters.
7. Go for a walk.
8. Write something deep and meaningful.
9. Take a photo that moves viewers to tears.
10. Make appointments. Dentist, doctor, mamogram, pedicure, forearm waxing, fitness guru.

Ten things I will definitely do tomorrow.
1. Spend 10 minutes in bed calculating how much time I really need to get ready.
2. Take the cards out of my overnight bag.
3. Decide it's too hot to bake.
4. Promise myself I'll definitely fertilize before the weekend.
5. Finish reading Trace. (Did you know the author dedicated this book "To Billy and Ruth Graham. I know no others like you, and I love you.)
6. Write a list of some sort.
7. Recharge my camera's batteries.
8. Look for phone numbers of places I need to make appointments at.
9. Drive past the drycleaners and wish I had put my pants in the truck so I could drop them off.
10. Be tired at 5 pm and crave a nap.

Take care,

Ying and yang

My favorite blogger called it quits today. Saddens me. But I understand. His wife just came home from the hospital with their twins.
He ain't gonna see his keyboard for months...

My friend and her sister just told me that they have a blog. This delights me. They are twins and have recently purchased matching digital cameras. Check out their photos and say hi. Tell 'em Jane sent ya... www.twinclicks.blogspot.com



Three things that I'm thankful for:
1. Fourteen year old boys who wear crazy boarding shorts proudly.
2. Ten year old boys who sit on their mom's lap when they want to talk about stuff.
3. Friends who fly half-way across the country to visit for 2 days in the rain.

Grammmaw?

He called me grandma today. GRANDMA!
He's the new guy at work. 'Bout 21 years old. Don't think he shaves yet. Eats pop tarts for lunch. Grandma.
Must be the wrinkly face.
Or the paunchy mid section.
Or the flapping skin on my arms.
Or the basket of candies on my desk.
Or the floral flowing skirt.

Oy.

I stopped in at IGA to pick up some groceries after work. The lady in front of me, who was in the process of paying as I was unpacking my stuff onto the conveyor belt, says to me, "Excuse me. I've just got to tell you, I love your skirt. The flowers. The way it flows as you move. The ruffle on the bottom. It's so feminine. Lovely. Just lovely."

"Oh, thanks. I think it makes me look like a grandma."

"Not at all. Where'd you get it?"

"Well, see... I had a wedding to go to. And I had absolutely NO time to try and clothes and coordinate an outfit, so I ran into the mall and bought everything they had in my size. This skirt came in two different colours; this one with flowers and another one - exactly the same - with pink polka dots. Bought them both and took the rest back...."

"I wonder if they still have any left. I just love it..."

She was a woman about twice my size. And about 10 years older.

Sigh.




Three things I'm happy about:
1. My long weekend started at 4:30 today. Yae. Four days off.
2. My friend from Bible-school-days is coming for a visit from Winnipeg. Yae. 48 hours of non-stop talking.
3. An event I'm planning for work looks like a good one. Hey, does anybody want to come to a one day seminar designed for executive leaders? The guy we've got booked is supposed to be utterly amazing. His insight and wisdom have transformed lives and organizations. This is one of those once in a lifetime opportunities. Are you free on Sept 30? Got a hundred bucks?

Take care,

Shoot. I missed it.

My blog's one year anniversary was on June 29th.

I was kinda thinking of doing something special that day to celebrate. Like offer prizes. Or post nude pictures.

Instead, I stopped in at Max's school to pay his lost textbook fines and say goodbye to some familiar faces. Max has chosen to leave that school (sniff) and move on to a regular public high school in the fall. Then I ordered a corsage for Claire. Then I went to work. Then I picked up Claire who was getting her hair and make up done. I got home in time for Clint to take the truck to pick up his tux and the above mentioned corsage. Then he stopped in at his dad's house to borrow some dress shoes but set off the alarm and called me instead. I arranged for Max and Drew to get a ride up to the lake. Then I took Clint and Claire over to Shari's to wait for the limo. I then took 100 photos of amazingly beautiful young people. (My own grad photo? Way back in '79, Mark and I dropped in on my mom who was at work. She took a snapshot of us in all our finery in the parking lot near the corner of Fraser Hwy and 152nd Street. There I was in my Yofi Creation gown with dumptrucks barreling behind me...but I digress...) Back to 2005 -
I then came home, changed and left for downtown Vancouver at 5:30 pm in order to be at the Hyatt for a 7 pm dinner. Traffic was gnarly and I arrived at 7:45 pm. At 9:00pm there was the Poppy traditional grad-parent-first-dance-of-the-evening. Once I got over the horror of having my skin-and-bones son put his hand on my blubber roll, the song was over. (There were technical difficulties so the song lasted 19 seconds.)
By 10pm it was obvious I wasn't going to dance again, so I headed to the Sportplex to prepare for the dry grad event. I was the photographer. I stayed til 3 am then went home to down load photos. I went back at 5 am to chauffeur kids over to the Rooobs for breakfast. Then I posted said photos to my poppygrad blog. At 11 am I got ready for phase 6 of the grad festivities by shopping for groceries, packing the truck, returning the tux and doing a load of laundry. By 3pm Clint and I headed up to the lake. By 4pm, 10 of his friends had arrived. By 7pm I was feeding barbecued chicken and baked potatoes to 22 teenagers. At 11 pm I brought them warm-from-the-oven-and still-gooey brownies as they sat round the campfire. At 1:30 am, when they were all settled back inside the cabin playing texas-hold-em poker, I went to bed. At 4:15 am, the first car load left to catch a ferry. At 7:30 am the next group left for work. Shortly after lunch the last group left just as my parents arrived.

and that's why I didn't post anything special on PixnPose's First Anniversary.

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. I found my passport. NO. It wasn't in that mess in the garage. It was safely filed away with other important legal documents.
2. Fresh peaches and raspberried smooshed together in a big bowl with a sprinkle of sugar to make it all syrupy.
3. It's 12 pm and Drew hasn't called. Yae. He's probably snuggled in close to my dad with a fan blowing on his face and all the lights on in the room.

With Clint at Stillwood and Drew at my parent's place, yard work duties fell on Max's shoulders this evening.  

Yeah. He's got his tunes turned up real loud. Makes him happy.  

He cuts the lawn with the same attention to detail that he had towards him homework. He's a solid c+ er in all areas of his life. Consistent.  

THIS is why I didn't go to the gym today. I could not look at this mess one more minute.
Anybody want 4 humungous sized bags of green styrofoam peanut 'chippies'?

Drewbs

The phone rang a few minutes ago.
“lo?”
“Mom?” a tiny voice questioned. “I’m scared.”
“What’re you scared of, sweets?” I asked.
“Uh. None of my brothers are here. I’m afraid to sleep upstairs by myself.”
“Why do’ncha sleep on the floor in Mikhail’s room?”
“It’s dark in there. I need a light and a fan. Besides, he can’t jump out of the crib and grab a knife to stab a robber if one breaks in thru the window.”
“Uh. Drew? How many times in your life has a robber broke into a house that you were sleeping in?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“How about if I pray with you over the phone?”
“How about if you come pick me up?”

Oy.
His dad isn’t too happy when I do these late night rescues.
And I have to work tomorrow. My new summer hours mean I work form 8 til 4 on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. What am I gonna do with him?

As I cruise the backroads of Langley in the pouring rain, I call Jul.
“Were you guys in bed?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. Is Mandi asleep too?”
“Well, she’s in bed…why?”
“I’m on my way to pick up Drew. He’s afraid. But Max and I have to be at work by 8 tomorrow morning, so I was hoping I could swing by and pick her up tonight. Maybe she could sleep over and then baby sit Drew for me tomorrow.?”
“Just bring him over. He can stay here. Sleep in Mandi’s room. And hang out with us.”


Three things I’m thankful for:
I have a sister
I have a niece
They both love Drew

Imaginary Photos

Holy kajolies.
Have you looked in your garden lately?
Errr. Maybe yours is fine. Have you looked in my garden lately?
Hy curumba those be big weeds.
Sheeesh. You get a lil distracted by some really important things and the next thing you know, Jurassic-park-sized unwanted green things are taking over every unclaimed spot of dirt in the yard.
The upside is those suckers are easy to pull out. And if you let them grow tall enough, you don’t even have to bend over or kneel to yank em. So that’s a good thing.
Always a silver lining.

------If I'd thought of it earlier, I'd insert a beautiful photo of a lush healthy weed here---------



Picked up Max from his first full day of work this summer. He looked pooched.
He fell asleep on the couch almost immediately, then woke up to have a bite to eat. By 7 he was passed out again. Finally at 9:00pm, he staggered from the room and announced he was going to bed.
You don’t understand. This is unheard of.
Never have I had a child voluntarily go to bed without an argument. Yes, still.
It’s something they never outgrew.

I’m sitting here at my computer in stunned silence.
He went to bed because he was tired.
Wow.
Something just slipped off its orbit and it’s freaking me out.



--------Pretend there's a touching photo of a lanky sleeping 14 year old here -----------------




So I signed up for three months. Been there twice. The weight is not dropping. At all. Sucks. I am going to go tomorrow and ride that stupid bike til I can’t stand it anymore. Then I’ll stop.
I’ll probably look in the mirror and be discouraged.
Goody.
Can’t wait til tomorrow.

I have a fridge that desperately needs attention. Really. There’s something in the back that sort of resembles a cantaloupe. It may have been one in a former life. Sometimes all it takes is time and a cool place for one to experience a transformational life change.
Not that I want to live in a refrigerator for any length of time, but I’m ready for an overhaul. Not just appearance, but in attitude as well.


“You are a bad parent,” he snarled at me just seconds before he left for the summer. His parting words cut deep, just as he had intended. He knew what he was doing.
“You are a saint,” she said 12 hours later. We were on her sailboat having devotions together. She was unaware of my shattered self image at the time and her words were a soothing balm.

It was Thursday morning, and I was at a Staff Development Day in Point Roberts. The ‘hit’ I’d taken the night before, in addition to my lingering cold, and the mega miles I’d put on my Durango driving from Cultus to downtown Vancouver a number of times during the week, had me depleted and running on empty.
I arrived at the Marina tired and negative.

Our morning devotions started with a story about a Texan named Carla Faye who had been on death row for 14 years for committing a pickaxe murder when she was 24. Her life had been filled with dysfunction, abuse and assault at an early age which accelerated as she became a pre-teen. By the time she was 10 she was smoking pot and drinking beer. At age 12 she became a heroin addict. She and her mother became prostitutes before she was old enough to get a driver’s licence. Being fed a diet of negativity and hatred her entire life; it was not surprising where she ended up.

We were to consider our ‘diets’. What were we feeding our minds and souls? What movies, books, music, conversations, activities, thoughts, etc were we feasting on?

Then we were each handed a bookmark and encouraged to read the words out loud as a group:

Who Am I?

As a child of God, I am…
· Fearfully and wonderfully made
· God’s workmanship
· Loved
· Chosen
· Rescued and bought at a great price
· A daughter of my Father
· Forgiven
· A new creation
· Free forever from condemnation
· A saint
· Righteous and holy
· Able to approach my Father with boldness, freedom and confidence
· Complete in Christ
· A temple where God lives
· A joint heir with Christ
· A citizen of heaven
· An enemy of the devil
As we read those statements out loud, we were to say “I am” before each point.

Try it.
No really. Try it. Try saying those words out loud, with the phrase “I am” before each one.

Did you do it?

Go back and do it now. NOW.



Did it grab your gut too?
Was there a catch in your voice too?

Which one fills your soul with joy?

For me, I teared up when I said “I am chosen”.
I am chosen.
He chose me.
Those are powerful words. Probably for anyone, but especially for someone who’s been dumped.

We were to break up into groups of 2, and share which truth was the hardest for us to accept. And then pray for our partner.

I sat there in the galley of that tiny sailboat paralyzed.
“Please God. Can’t I just go home?” I concentrated on my glass of orange juice as an uncomfortable silence slithered through the sailboat.
“I choose Jane,” she said.
I choose Jane.
Man.
Talk about words that can immediately sooth a battered psych.

“I’m having a hard time accepting that I am a saint,” I shared a few minutes later after everyone else had left the vessel. I didn’t confess all my failings to her but in my head I was going through the checklist: impatient, sarcastic, unreasonable, loud, lazy, overweight…

After we looked up a few bible verses, she looked me in the eyes and gently said, “You are a saint.”
And then she prayed for me.
Which made me cry. Which made my nose run. So I blew it. And then I broke into a coughing fit.
And the moment was sorta lost.

But still.
It’s sticking with me.
I have been chosen.
I am loved.
I have been forgiven.

Now if I can only stop looking like that wrinkled, fuzzy lump of fruit that’s morphing in my fridge…


----------Use your imagination. Pretend you looking at a picture of a caved in, squishy, weirdly textured, somewhat mouldy, kinda fuzzy multi-coloured bowling-ball-sized piece of fruit. -------------------------------

OK.
Please, if you are a 7th Heaven fan...tell me.
What happened?
The last episode I saw was on Tuesday night. My life has spun out of control since then. Tonight's show was out of order, so I'm left hanging.

Did Matt and Sarah get married even though both their fathers cancelled the ceremony? Did Lucy and Mary get together with those brothers from Baltimore? Now that Ruthie has kicked Robby out of her Hello Kitty bedroom, where is he sleeping?

I am not a total flake.
I'm working my way through the box set of West Wing's second season.
So there.
I'm even understanding most of it. In fact; tonight I've been moved to tears as well as uncontrollable laughter.

Don't let the blonde hair fool ya. There are one or two brain cells still firing despite well, despite evidence to the contrary.

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. paper cutters
2. good books
3. ice cubes

What day is it?

S’all a blur.
It happens when I pull a couple of all-nighters 2 days in a row…

But it’s over. He’s all graduated.
Dinner and Dance…done.
Dry-grad…done.
After-grad overnighter at the cabin…done.

By Saturday afternoon, my personal gas tank was empty. Completely exhausted and unable to be even partially social.
All our guests had left, and it was just me, my kids and Mandi.
“Anyone want to go to the used bookstore?” I asked.
“I do.”
“Me too.”
“Can I come too?”
“Are you buyin?”

18 books and $65 later, we arrived back at Cultus.
We ate a quick barbequed chicken dinner then each of us grabbed a comfortable spot and opened a book.
No conversation. No music. No TV. No nothing.
Just two hours of uninterrupted reading.

“Wow, Auntie Jane. This is the quietest it’s ever been up here.” Mandi observed.
“I know. I hope it hasn’t been too boring for you…”
“Not at all.”

I loved having all the kids here. (Twenty two for dinner. Twelve for night.) It was an awesome way to end their grad festivities…( I delivered brownies and cake to them all as they sat around the fire at the next cabin over. My heart is still smiling at the vision of them all visiting, laughing, interacting, and joking.) My sons have been blessed with amazing friends.

But I also loved having no extra kids here. It was wonderful not worrying about make up or balanced meals.

And with that, summer officially has begun.
Let the sun shine.


Three things I’m thankful for:
1.The gas station at Whatcom Road. Cheap fuel. Many fast food options.
2.The used book store in Sardis. Cheap reading material. Many titles.
3.It’s summer.

All tuckered out. 

Mandi and Drew completely absorbed in their books. 

Yup. Him too.