Just thinkin'

How do we feel about this?

There's no doubt she's a beautiful woman.
And it's true; bathing suits are more revealing.

But. Sigh. There is so much pressure already for women to look sexy... this takes it up over the top, no? Because females are going to feel 'less than', if they can't pull this off. Because men/boys/guys are going to see this. And maybe have an expectation? That will largely go unmet, but still.

I dunno.
I don't want to sound old and cranky... but I wish it had fabric. For all our sakes.


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Started and finished this book yesterday:

Yeah, so I kinda loved it.
Weird when you can totally identify with three completely different characters, all of whom are from different generations and genders.


By the way, I tweeted the author and told her I loved it. She tweeted back.

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Have I mentioned that I love twitter.
I have two accounts.
My real one and my fake one. Haha. Undercover twitter-er.


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So. In talking with other people who have lost loved ones, it seems like what we all long for is to hear that person (husband/mom/dad/wife)'s voice again. To hear them say, "I love you". To hear a message that only they can uniquely deliver ...

Which got me thinking.
We have the technology.
Why aren't we doing this? Why are we not recording ourselves speaking love messages to our spouses and children and grandchildren? Why are we not confirming our love for them? Affirming their characters? Reminding them of truths? Giving them hope? Retelling the family stories?

We should do this.
Because we love them.
And someday they'll want to hear our voice.
Someday it will comfort them when they need, more than anything, to hear you say it'll be alright.

So we should do this before our voices get weak and shakey and we forget the things they want to hear.

Record it. Burn it to a DVD and keep it with your will. And save a copy on a cloud somewhere. Or a hard drive. One of your kids will know how to set this up in his sleep. He might not think he wants to hear your voice reach out to him from the grave, but he doesn't know... he probably will.

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Also.

I got a great email from someone I've never met who reads this blog and she sent me the manuscript of a talk she gave recently. I LOVED it. She was asked to share something she was passionate about and it was awesome.

WHICH GOT ME THINKING.

We all have a thing or two we're passionate about besides our husbands, children and grandchildren, yes? Something we could talk about for hours, and never get bored? Or something that gets us revved? Something that makes our minds work overtime, just thinking of all the possibly outcomes? Something that's just good idea, worth sharing? Something that you tried, and it worked, and you love it?

Something that you'd love to share with others? Something that you could talk about, say, for 4 uninterrupted minutes?

Haha.

The Public Salon that Heather and I went to, originally started as an evening meal for 10 guests, each given 4 minutes to share something they were passionate about over dinner. Conversation flowed around those topics. Eventually they moved the event to the Vancouver Playhouse and invited 600 folks to listen to 8 people share their passions in 7 minutes. But it started over hot dogs and potato chips. Or something.

I am tempted to try something similar. I totally get that this sounds boring and dull to at least 80% of my readers. But the other 20%? IMAGINE the conversations? SO fun, no?


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After work, I drove over to the new location of Salvation Army's Thrift Store (because when I went to the old location on my lunch break - it was not there...) and dropped off a truck full of clothes, shoes, books and VHS tapes. Came home, and warmed up my left over Lemon Pepper Stir Fry Chicken + Vegie meal. (So much better on day 2.) Then I loaded up my truck with cardboard recycling and drove into Vancouver to drop it off in the bins at Clint's work.

I got home a little after 8 and started my laundry.

When I opened Facebook, there was this posting about freshly baked scones. RIGHT IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD. So I invited myself over, and at 9 pm I was in Heather's kitchen eating a lemon one. (She'd made 3 different kinds.)

I may never leave this neighbourhood.


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Three things I'm thankful for:

1. Duh. Freshly baked lemon scones and the friends who make them.
2. Giant, neon, straight-from-God rainbows that glow right in front of you.
3. I looked in Clint's mouth. Couldn't even see his tonsils, they're so tiny.

Shalom,
xo