Memory Vessel

Musical suggestion for this post:
Upward Over the Mountain by Iron and Wine
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Kh09MuIfIU


When I was a little girl I lived in a wonderful house.
It was a heritage house that had survived trial and fire. Many years ago, two huge fires destroyed nearly the entire town but our house survived. My grandparents moved from a lumber camp in a tiny community into this heritage house in the mid 50s. They already had 6 children and three more were yet to be born and raised in the new house. There were four bedrooms and only one bathroom between 8 people but somehow they made it work. (I love how back then you just worked with what you had...nowadays you just buy a bigger house and live with the debt. We shouldn't forget the simplicity of the old days, in my opinion.)
When my parents got married in 1983, my grandparents sold the heritage house to them. My oldest sister was born and 2.5 years later, I followed. One of my first clear memories was the gorgeous purple-loveliness of the lilac hedge that graced the front of the house. In the Spring we would open our kitchen window and let the scent from the bushes perfume the entire house. To this day, lilac is one of my favourite smells in the world.
Three huge pine trees graced the backyard. They were so old, 80 years old back then...nearly 100 now. I used to play beneath them with my sister. We had miniature hoes and shovels and we would till the earth around them to make pretend gardens, or we would claim one each for our 'house' and gather sticks and pinecones for food.
We buried our fish Flounder, who had died from overfeeding, beneath the tallest one. It was a somber moment in our lives. We marked the spot with a little plastic cross that mysteriously disappeared the next day.
Having only one bathroom was always an issue for a family of 5 (by this time my brother had been born). The bathroom was downstairs by the kitchen while the bedrooms were all upstairs. My sister and I shared a bedroom and a double bed for years. I remember many a night, starting at age three, when I would feel my OLDER sister shake me from sleep and plead with me to take her to the bathroom. I would half-stumble down the dark stairs, through the dining room, and living room to the tiny bathroom. I would sit on the edge of the blue claw-foot tub with my eyes shut as she used the facilities and then we would literally sprint back up the stairs into bed, always sure that something in the dark was chasing us.
I lived 7 years of my life in that old house. The best years. We moved in 1996 with the birth of my youngest sister who is physically disabled...the stairs and structure of the house just didn't meet her needs so, sadly, very very very sadly, we moved to my parent's current house just outside of town. I still feel an extremely strong connection with the old house, even to this day. In the past ten years it has switched owners a few times and has been completely renovated and restored but it's still the same house...the lilac hedge is still there and so are the old trees. I think I would tie myself lay down in front of the workmen and refuse to move if they ever dared to disturb those old man trees.
It's funny how something like a house can hold so much meaning. When I look at it now as an adult, I don't just see a house. I see it as the place in which my grandparents raised their last 3 children, my father included, and the place in which my parents raised their first 3 children.
I see it as this vessel of complete memory.
I promised myself years ago that one day I would buy it back and it would never be sold again. It would stay in the family for generations and generations to enjoy. Perhaps I'm just being romantic or wishful, but honestly readers, I cannot remember a time when I wasn't.

Be well.

Acts

Musical suggestion for this post:
Oleander by Sarah Harmer (Canadian!)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1-cjul81HQ



I could of been a great many things, dear readers.

At age 7 I dreamed of nursing wounded animals back to health as a sympathetic veternarian.
At age 12 I swooned at the thought of unearthing ancient runes in Egypt.
At age 13 I was sure, beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was going to be a writer.
At age 16 my positive calling was to be the single, mysterious local librarian.
At age 21 I challenged myself with the idea of becoming a conservation officer.

I've been working since I was eleven years old. I've been a barista, a Story Time Lady and page, a housekeeper, a Front Desk clerk, and a nanny. I've enjoyed every job I have ever had and for that I have been truly blessed. ALL my jobs have taught me some kind of important lesson about people or life in general and in every job I have formed relationships I wouldn't trade for anything.
Now at age 22, as I finished up some of my courses (toward becoming a conservation officer), I have come to a crossroads. Should I go by my own feelings and go to school for this program that would provide me with a job that I could keep for the rest of my life, or do I just give myself up completely to God and ask Him to lead me through His Spirit? I have this desire in my heart to just do the right thing. I don't want to finish all this school and realize that the Lord wants something else completely different for me...I don't believe in wasting money, especially on school you never get to impliment or use. I've been praying about this for awhile and seeking God and I am positive I will find the answer soon.
Trusting someone, even our glorious God, is hard for a lot of people. They are so afraid of failure or doing the wrong thing that they just decide for themselves what is best. I am so glad that I realize now before it's too late that only God knows best. He knows the plans He has for me and those plans are to build me up and make me the best person I can be...even down to finding me the right husband and the right path for my future.

Dad, (Jesus)
you know how much I've been struggling with these life decisions. You see my heart and my faults and you love me in spite of it all. Sometimes I think that you're telling me to do things but then I realize that it's my own flesh that is speaking. Please help me to cast aside my flesh and the ways of the World, for I am a new creation...ever since the day I accepted you into my life. Only you know the right path for me Jesus, I just have to quiet down all my other thoughts and feelings so I can truly hear your voice in my heart. Thank you that I WILL know the answers you give and that I WILL have the courage to carry them out. Teach me to be a fisher of the lost. I know you have given me the power to do excedingly and abundantly above all I can think or imagine...I just have to have the courage to act.

Amen.

Weather or Not

Musical suggestion for this post:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUIyYrH_5yM


I know people think talking about the weather is just small talk, but I personally LOVE weather changes. For instance, isn't it just that much easier to wake up when the sun is literally pushing against your blinds, just struggling to get in? Then you throw up the blind and it hits you hard...but gentle at the same time...and you just know that today will be a good day.
I used to live in a city that only had two types of weather:
-Sunny with cloud cover
-Rain, rain, rain.
I lived in this city for nearly two years and I used to think it was such an ugly place...it was always so grey or wet or just plain dim. I think if you live anywhere without pure sunshine for long enough periods, you would think the same thing. However, when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds for brief intervals, a transformation seemed to take place. The once dim, grey city transformed into this gorgeous array of colour and beauty and light! The change was extraordinary! Everyone who has lived in this city will know exactly what I am talking about. It's truly wonderful shedding a little bit of light on something can do.
I have big plans for this sunshiney day. Plans that include bike riding, walking, reading outside, laughing, and generally being joyful the whole day through. I do have to work tonight but I believe I will push that thought out of my mind completely until the time comes. Time to focus on everything that is good, right, and bright. Today, I am free to just enjoy God's splendour; the splendour that is always present, but hard to notice without a little drop of sunshine concentrate.

Be well.

"Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread." -Pablo Neruda

Musical suggestion for this post:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZEXbSdiar0


For fun, some people like to ski down a mountain.
I like to cook a meal.
For relaxation, some people get a massage/manicure/pedicure.
I bake bread.

When one thinks about the word 'relaxing' baking isn't exactly the first thing that comes to mind. Most think, 'Baking bread? No way. Too much work...the mixing, the kneading, the waiting...it takes hours!' That is precisely why I love it. I love doing projects that take long periods of time, whether it be sewing, knitting, cooking, baking, painting, gardening...I myself am not exactly a fast-paced person. I walk quite briskly but that is probably the only thing in my life that is brisk. In the years previous to my 22nd one, I used to admire haste. Haste to go to University, haste to find The One and get married, haste to have babies, haste to buy a house and establish one's self, haste to get rich, and haste to retire. I was so focused on getting somewhere, ANYWHERE fast that I completely forgot the reason for which I was going. I was overlooking things/ places/people that truly mattered because I was in such a hurry to GET THERE.
Well my dear readers, when I woke up at the age of 21 and observed my surroundings for the first time in a long time, I realized that I had missed out on some vital years of my life. I made myself a promise then and there that I would slow down and do things properly...that I would take time to appreciate, take time to make some memories. Take time to be my authentic self.
There are so many beautiful, simple things in this life and thanks be to God for reminding me of them every single day. Like baking bread. It is so relaxing to me to watch the ingredients combine into dough, then use my sense of touch to knead the dough...while the dough is rising I can catch up on my reading or listen to some thrilling music. I finally shape the dough into loaves and into the oven they go! The smell alone of the baking bread is worth all the time it takes to create, I promise you. And few things in this world are as delicious as a freshly buttered, warm slice of homemade goodness.
In this day and age it may seem impossible to take anything slow...but I encourage everyone to just try it. Shut off the iPhones, Blackberries and Facebook and turn on your imagination and creativity. My personal suggestions for a few slow, rewarding activities?

-Start a garden indoors. Buy some pretty, deep pots, potting soil and seeds of your choice. Beans are a no-brainer to grow!
-Find a nice cozy spot, brew some tea, grab a bowl of apples and just read a book. Read for at least an hour.
-Go through your closet thoroughly and remove everything you haven't worn in six months. Bag it up and donate it to local thrift stores, Sally Anne's, Good Will etc. You will feel so much better afterwards.
-Bake cookies of any kind. My specialties are ginger softs (opposite of ginger snaps) and chocolate kiss cookies. Make sure your butter and eggs are room temperature before you start though! PS. Don't forget to eat at least 2 cookies!
-Watch an old movie. Now I know some people might think watching TV is lazy but that doesn't count when it's a classic. I suggest Philadelphia Story, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town, Singing in The Rain, and Sabrina.

And don't feel guilty! I'd like to have a word with the person who said that taking things slow was the same thing as being lazy. Actually, I wouldn't have a word with that person...I'd probably just give them a slice of freshly baked bread, smothered in marmalade and butter. That will shut them up.


Be well.

A New Creation

This is a strange feeling. Strange but exhilarating! I feel transported back through time to 2005 when writing was the blood in my veins, the apple of my eye. This is an introduction of sorts...strike that. This is a MISSION STATEMENT. I feel it is necessary to tell people that this blog is not going to be typical...in fact, I do not intend to write on topics that will merely get me views and comments. No, fair people, this blog is for me. My thoughts, my dreams, my goals, my downfalls. You can follow along if you like, though I do not guarantee you will always like what you read, a few of you may perhaps...relate? to these things written.
My grade 10 and 11 English teacher used to make us do a 'Free Write' in the last ten minutes of every class. She would tell us to take pen to hand and write. Just write. No stopping. DEFINITELY no thinking. I found that through this exercise, what I wrote was much more simple and real than any grandios, flowery thing I could ever jot given more time. And so, good people of the internet world, please consider these humble episcles as nothing more and nothing less than a bloggish 'Free Write', straight from the heart (the true house of creativity), not the head.