my placid life (#156-163 of 1000 gifts)

Things seem to be piling up in my life. It's one of those seasons when all the things I'm involved in seem to come due at once. I was feeling a little overwhelmed until, on Saturday, I met the woman who is leaving today to visit her son in Uganda and has agreed to take some documents to my nephew's family, thus we drove them over.

She was in the middle of packing, still had a couple of papers to finish for a course she was taking at her church, and had had to take charge at a church woman's event when the speaker failed to show the night before. She and her husband are responsible for their church's Christmas shoeboxes, so donations and unassembled boxes were in piles near the door. She was making plans for people to look in on her husband while she was away as he recently had a heart attack. One of her daughters was in labour as we met Saturday morning. And in everyday life when she's not traveling, she works full-time. By comparison, my situation is a placid bore, and I love it! That's my #156 of 1000 gifts this week.

157. My son took me out for a date last week. We grabbed a coffee at Wendell's, went for a walk along the river and then browsed a Fort Langley antique shop. Sweet!

Those were different times!

158. Meeting with old friends. On Thursday was the funeral of a friend from our former church. It was quite overwhelmingly wonderful to see so many old friends and connect again over those few hours.

159. My bic pens. They're cheap and reliable and I love it that they run out! Indeed, it gives me a good feeling to actually throw a used-up pen in the garbage because I've written out all the ink. (I'm hopelessly old fashioned, but with some kinds of writing I have to do the first drafts by hand before I enlist the computer.)

160. Naps. Short midday naps are highly underrated and grossly under-used.

161. The fireplace. Ours is gas, but it still creates a cozy ambiance.

162. Quesadillas at a local eatery. The Chicken Q's on Saturday at ABC were particularly tasty!

163. This song by Andrew Peterson. Awww...





Hat-tip: Sonia (thanks!)

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If you'd like to join me and many others collecting One Thousand Gifts, please do. Some members of this gratefulness community post their gifts on blogs, while others list them in private journals. Instructions on how to join are here. 

home again

Here's the kid on Thursday, two weeks after the accident. What a change when compared to the photo here.


Also on Thursday his friends from town came for a visit. Here they are, watching a movie on the ibook.


Yesterday included a visit to the cast clinic. The doc took out the staples, outfitted B. with a cast and then we moved him back to his city digs...he insisted he was ready, had stuff to look after, etc. (Sigh ~ at some times it's harder being a mom than at others)

life trumps blogging

When you get a phone call at 11:00 on a Thursday morning, telling you your son fell off a roof at work, you put your life (including your blog and twitter) on hold for as long as necessary. That was the situation here a week ago, July 30th.

Another call a few minutes later told us which hospital the ambulance had taken him to. When we arrived at Emergency and informed the nurse who we were, it was not a good sign that she hustled us into a "Family Room" with a social worker and the promise that a doctor would be in to see us shortly. So began a saga which is ongoing.

Our 23-year-old son fell about 20 feet onto concrete that morning. His right wrist and the left side of his face and head took the main brunt of the fall. In the intervening days the orthopedic doctor has plated and screwed his wrist together, the plastic surgeon has pushed his cheek bone back into place, and we're waiting for his puffy left eye to open to find out if he can still see out of it.

But it could have been so much worse. He could, of course, be dead, or paralyzed, or brain damaged. As it is, he can walk and use his arms (no neck or back injury apparently), and his memory - despite a concussion - is as good as ever. Except he can't remember the fall or the time immediately before it. And since his buddies on the job didn't see him fall, nobody knows exactly what happened - or even if he actually fell from the roof or from a ladder...

He was discharged from hospital yesterday and is staying with us for the next while. I am getting practice being a nurse and expanding my repertoire of soft food cooking since he isn't supposed to chew due to the healing bones in his cheek.

If you are a pray-er, please pray that his sight will return, and that this accident will work out for good in his life.

this and that

I've spent since Sunday afternoon rattling around in the house by myself. E. went with a friend to Fort St. John to finish up a move. It's been pretty quiet, as I've been busy tying up loose writing ends in preparation for family coming to visit next week, and more holidaying after that.

But I do get out at least once each day. I always carry the camera on my morning walks, which I take early to avoid the heat. Here are some captures from the last few days...

Rabbits - I see them practically every day. Doesn't this one resemble one of those intellectual snobs from Watership Down?

Mother sure has those ducklings well trained!

On Monday I wandered into a new part of town and came across this wooden sculpture. It's another (by Pete Ryan I'm sure, though I could find no plaque) in the series that are all around town. The old car is a pretty good icon - considering the annual antique car show, for which Langley is famous.



And then there's the catch from today's walk. This squirrel blends so nicely with the tree, he could be a sculpture too, for all I know!


For something more substantial, I also blogged "Aging: the silver lining" at The Word Guild blog today.

(psst - loving my new keyboard - a skinny Mac that makes almost no noise at all. Also have a new mouse as my scroll ball one stopped scrolling months ago, and yesterday I saw it had worn through where the tail attaches to the body. The new cheap Logitech is working just great - the scroll wheel even works; who cares that it doesn't go from side to side!)

my weekend

It's the end of another weekend and I feel sad. I love weekends. But there's no getting around the fact that time moves on and since last week was pretty much a write-off for getting stuff done (the Brier was on - three games a day Monday to Thursday, finals Friday, Saturday and today - amazing curling!) I must psych myself up to get down to business first thing tomorrow morning.

Today was our pastor's 50th birthday. In church this a.m. they showed a little retrospective video with shots of him throughout the years - very cute. Then he sat down at the piano and led us in a singalong of some of the songs that have characterized his time here.

Our church has had some close brushes with full-fledged revival (e.g. 300 attending 5:00 a.m. prayer meetings for a while). Of course music is always a part in these "moves of God." We all sang William Booth's "Send the Fire" (YouTube below; one of the songs I remember from when we began attending). What a rouser - and it fits right in with my 'fire' quote from this morning - only this is good fire.

Then several of the pastors came up with his birthday gift. It was a sports jacket made by one of the ladies of the church out of the bright orange upholstery fabric salvaged from the old pews (taken out and replaced with theatre seating last year). Wouldn't you know, this is the Sunday I neglected to bring my camera or I'd have a photo.

After church we went for our usual walk, got drenched in the rain, stopped for lunch at Choo-Choos and watched as the rain turned to snow. Fortunately by the time we were ready to walk home the serious snowing had stopped.

The electricity went out for a while this afternoon, but it came on again after about an hour and a half -- in time for us to watch most of the Brier final which was a lopsided affair with Alberta easily winning over Manitoba.

But, as I said, the weekend is almost over. So, V, repeat 100 times: I will work hard next week. I will work hard next week. I will work hard next week....

(If you decide to listen to the YouTube, turn off the music player by clicking on the II, top right sidebar).


Send the Fire
( Zach Cherian and the Praise Team - I think it's John Hagee's church)



SEND THE FIRE
by William Booth

O God of burning, cleansing flame, Send the fire
Your blood - bought gift today we claim, Send the fire today

God of Elijah, hear our cry, Send the fire
And make us fit to live or die, send the fire today

To burn up every trace of sin, to bring the light and glory in
The revolution now begins, Send the fire today

It's fire we want, for fire we plead, Send the fire
The fire will meet our every need, Send the fire today

Give us strength to always do what's right,
And grace to conquer in the fight
for power to walk this world in white, Send the fire today

Look down and see this waiting host
And send the promised Holy Ghost
We need another Pentecost, Send the fire today

goodbye Dottie Rambo

Gospel singer, songwriter Dottie Rambo was killed in a bus accident in Missouri Sunday morning. This prolific songwriter was renowned for such Gospel classics as "He Looked Beyond My Fault and Saw My Need," "We Shall Behold Him” and “I Go to the Rock.”

A bit more about her life (from a news bulletin distributed by Strang Communications - Charisma Mag):

Born in Kentucky, Rambo began writing songs at age 8 and launched a full-time music career at age 12. Married to Buck Rambo at age 16, she toured widely with her husband and their daughter, Reba, as The Rambos for several decades.

Through the course of her career, the Dove and Grammy Award winner wrote more than 2,500 published songs...

(Check out this list of songs written by her.)

This 74-year-old singer was making a comeback after the difficult '90s which included a divorce from Buck Rambo, two ruptured disks and many back surgeries. Her '08 summer schedule was full. She was also going to release a new CD this summer.

On her MySpace page you can hear her sing one of my favorites: "I Shall Behold Him." Just think - she has now done what she has dreamed of for so long.

Air Canada anyone?

Well, I'm back from my little adventure.

The flights out on Tuesday went without a hitch and I arrived in Lethbridge right on time, was met at the airport, driven to my hotel and I checked in. Later my hostess sent a cab to pick me up for dinner, where I met Maralee, the women who are helping her with the show as well as several other 'passionate women' who were also being interviewed.

Wednesday morning we woke to a snowstorm. Several people were late coming in to the studio and we heard from one guest as she was driving in from Airdrie that she'd been on the road for four hours (a trip that normally takes two) and was still a good distance away.

The recording session on Wednesday morning went well -- I think, I hope, I pray ... The interview seemed to be over before it even got started.

The lady driving from Airdrie did finally arrive shortly before noon. Then around noon the storm began to peter out. I boarded the prop plane for the half-hour flight from Lethbridge to Calgary in late afternoon sunshine. It was 15 minutes late leaving but I was reassured that my connecting flight to Vancouver was 20 minutes late out of Calgary so I should have no trouble making my connection home to Vancouver Wednesday night.


One little thing bothered me, though. When I picked up my boarding passes in Lethbridge. The Calgary to Vancouver flight had no seat number, but a GTE where the seat number normally is. "You'll get your seat assigned at the desk," the Air Canada agent told me. Not knowing the implications of that, I enjoyed the half-hour flight, peering out the window (every passenger has a window seat as there are only about 20 passengers aboard this prop plane with single seats along both sides) and taking photos of the interesting formations below.


When I got to Calgary I went straight to an Air Canada service desk where a harried agent informed me that my lack of assigned seat on the boarding pass meant that I was on standby.

How could that be, I asked, seeing as how I'd confirmed my flight weeks ago.

They'd canceled several earlier flights due to weather, she told me, and they customarily oversell flights. This day with people showing up for flights and others trying to rebook canceled ones, they hadn't kept enough seats for people whose flights were confirmed. Thus I might be out of luck getting on my flight.

This meant sitting and waiting in the lounge area until the flight was called. And sure enough, the long and short of it was, I never got on, along with quite a few other very unhappy people. I'm sure I don't need to describe the consternation, tension and less than gracious talk this missing of flights caused ("We will NEVER fly Air Canada again." "We've flown all over the world and never had something like this happen to us before," and on and on). The agent who worked the desk amazed me in the way she kept her cool. She did a great job of soothing nerves, as much as they could be soothed, and keeping feathers from getting even more ruffled.

Since the remaining flights out of Calgary were also full and many of the passengers left behind had more pressing needs to nab any standby spots on them than I did, I took Air Canada's offer of a hotel for the night -- this of course after I was rebooked on a flight for this morning and had another boarding pass (this time with assigned seat number - in Executive Class no less) clutched in my hot little hand.

And so it was that when I should have been winging over the Rocky Mountains, I was instead in the back of a Black-Top cab conversing with the Somalian driver as we wound our way into downtown Calgary.


Air Canada treated me well. They provided me with taxi vouchers to and from the airport, a beautiful room on the 22nd floor of the Delta Bow Valley along with vouchers for dinner and breakfast.


And I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed this unexpected detour. After getting a delicious mushroom and artichoke pizza at the Elements Restaurant I went up to my room, plugged my ipod into the dock of the clock radio and fell asleep to all my favorite praise and worship songs. I took this evening in a posh hotel as a Valentine treat from the Lord.


I did eventually get home this morning but even that wasn't hitchless. When I got to the posted lounge at 6:15 a.m. to wait for my flight to be called, a different flight was showing on the monitor. Of course that resulted in more confusion. Mechanical problems with our plane, was the problem they said. At one time they threatened to push back our scheduled 7:00 a.m. departure to 11:00 a.m. (lots more angst and grumbling and threats to never using Air Canada again). However, they did get us off the ground about 45 minutes late and we even got into Vancouver in time for some people to make their connecting flights.

I made my connection too. He took me home to a bouquet of beautiful golden-peach roses for Valentine's Day. Thanks love!

do grand-dogs count?

I haven't owned a dog for many years. In fact, I've only ever owned one. It was when I was a teacher in the northern BC community of Hazelton many years ago. The summer between the two years I taught there a friend's dog had a litter of puppies. I volunteered to adopt one of these mongrels and at about six weeks old I took one home and named him Ruggles.

He was ever so cute as a pup and I loved him to pieces. He lived with us (another teacher and me) for the year and soon grew out of puppyhood, to become a smiling, exuberant and very disobedient dog (I had about as much success training him to sit, come and stay as I had in keeping a quiet, controlled classroom).

When I went home to the farm in Saskatchewan that summer, I took him with me. There he joined at least two other dogs -- old farm dog Toby, a stocky, black shorted-haired don't-know-the-breed, and my brother's red Irish setter Penny. I'm afraid Ruggles was at the bottom of the pecking order and not a welcome addition. Very soon he took to roaming.

He stayed at the farm when I left for Europe in August of that year. In October I picked up my mail from an American Express office and remember reading the letter from home in a Bern, Switzerland coffee shop. It not only delivered the news that my dad had been diagnosed with cancer but also that Ruggles had gone missing. They thought he had probably been mistaken by a neighboring farmer for a chicken-raiding coyote -- and you know what becomes of chicken-raiding coyotes. What a depressing day!



I've never owned another dog since then and neither have we had one as a family pet. The closest we've come is lately with our grand-dog Rupert. The kids bring him over when they come from Kamloops and we babysit him when they go out to visit friends. He is a beautiful black Lab, now a little over a year old and pretty well full-grown. However, he thinks he's still a puppy and is always trying to get up on our laps to cuddle. He enjoys the taste of body butter, loves new doggy toys and having his tummy rubbed.

For lots more doggy tales and information on how you can add yours to the "Dog Days of February" collection, go to Rebecca Writes who is featuring all things canine this month.

"the good life"

"Often we seem bent on ensuring that the next generation will have a better life than did the preceding generations - the ability to live "the good life." But we define that life as the presence of comfort and security combined with the absence of hardship and disappointment. Well-intentioned parents often try to buy experiences and environments that foster a soft and satisfying lifestyle for their progeny.

In contrast, a biblical understanding of "the good life" is one that provides exploits and opportunities in order to experience, obey and serve God and other people. The existence of difficulties, failures and even persecution are not so much indicators of failure as they are events that build character and test our resolve to know, love and serve God. If life is primarily about our participation in a spiritual battle, then we must expect to encounter trials and pitfalls. The route to significance and success, therefore, demands that we develop the moral and spiritual foundations that permit us to lead holy and servantlike lifestyles."

- George Barna, Transforming Children Into Spiritual Champions

sobering anniversary

This is the 3rd anniversary of the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake. It triggered a tsunami that was one of the most devastating natural disasters in history.

Many video clips of the tsunami are still available. They are a sobering reminder of the force of nature, the fragility of life and what little time it takes for things to change forever.

Video clips of the tsunami hitting:
Sri Lanka,
Sri Lanka resort
Phuket (Thailand)
Patong Beach (Phuket, Thailand)

More information and tsunami videos and linked here.

december calendar

Today, a little update on what's been happening in our lives.

Last week was the 'decorate for Christmas' week. That was fun because this is the first time we've decorated our new home. When you've been in a place for 20+ years, you know where every decoration goes. That was the case in our old home. Not so here. Every decoration demanded a decision. Add to the mix red kitchen walls, against which some of the bright red decorations looked quite jarring. The result was a job I stretched into several days.

I did eventually get everything up somewhere - including my snow village. To display that along with the manger scene, I rescued from the garage a little old table on wheels that we moved from the other house but were planning to take to the thrift store with the next load. That little piece of furniture is so packed with Christmas, top and bottom, it reminds me of one of those desert trolleys that they take from table to table at some restaurants.


All the evenings last week, beginning from Tuesday on, were taken up with the Christmas production. E. and I are in the choir and so needed to attend the dress rehearsals Tuesday and Wednesday. As has happened so often before, we left rehearsal Wednesday wondering how the huge machine that is such an endeavor, would ever be made to run smoothly. The production this year had a lot of media involved (pictures projected against a large screen at the back of the stage which became the scene changes) along with a band, the usual cast of dozens, plus lighting, sound, prompt words up on the screen, stage crew hustling props on and off etc.

Thursday through Sunday we put on six performances of the two-hour "Mr. Goodman's Manor" - a play written and directed by Ben Wylie, one of our own. Its theme was all about the father heart of God.

One of the highlights was a scene where Ben used animation to show Jesus' life as a plant which started out as a tiny seed, then grew into a large tree, then wilted and drooped in the storm, then came to life again.

Another favorite part was when soloist Michael Larson sang Joseph's Lullaby (MercyMe version) against the backdrop of scenes from the Christmas story with the occasional foreshadowing glimpse of Jesus on the cross. (I didn't really get the full effect of this, only sneaked glances, as we were on stage at the time but the little I saw was moving.)

Thursday went surprisingly well - and each performance after just flowed smoother. Friday and Saturday nights we had friends, whom we'd invited to the play, over here for coffee and snacks later. Sunday night after the last performance, when the friends we'd invited didn't show, we crashed. Monday wasn't too productive either. I kept falling asleep!

Now, after a whole day of resting up, I'm feeling more myself again and getting ready to tackle more Christmas stuff - like writing the Christmas letter and shopping. I've only just started my Christmas shopping!

currently blooming

Day Lilies

Each one lasts for only a day. I have just a few more days' worth of unopened buds.

"Show me, O Lord, my life's end
and the number of my days;
let me know how fleeting is my life
You have made my days a mere handbreadth
the span of my years is as nothing before you.
Each man's life is but a breath."
Psalm 39:4,5 (NIV)

get 'the max from your mac'™

I'm loving my new Mac as much as ever! Now almost two months into owning it, this beautiful addition to my collection of apples (yes, I do actually collect apples - from stove-top timers to ornaments and now a computer - see, it was meant to be!) is beginning to feel like a real friend.

I especially appreciated it yesterday. We had some carpet layers in to do an installation. This meant we had to empty the rooms of furniture - my office being one of them. How simple it was to disassemble my Mac, cart it upstairs, plug it in and get to work again in my daughter's old bedroom -- not like E., who now uses my old dinosaur and spent at least 30 minutes first labeling cords and plug-ins so he'll be able to put his Windows puzzle together again (mind, it's ancient; I'm sure the new Windows machines are much simpler).

I've been meaning to talk about the Mac class I took in June. This was free instruction that came from the Mac store (ours is Simply Computing in Langley) along with the purchase of a new computer.

Keith Richardson, the founder of a company called MacSeniors was our teacher. It was an eye-opening day, clueing me in to not only many handy keystrokes which I wasn't aware of, but to the variety things that the Mac allows you to do and make.

Especially interesting was the afternoon when Mr. Richardson talked about the iLife suite of applications (iTunes, iMovie, iDVD etc.). It was necessarily more of a demonstration than teaching session, but when I saw the DVDs that he had made (he made one as a Christmas gift for each of his grandkids), my mouth watered. I've decided that as soon as life settles down, I'm going to learn how to make a DVD!

Fortunately, we have Mr. Richardson around as a handy resource. He is also active in MacWest, a club that meets regularly (in Surrey) to discuss user's questions and explore things one can do with Macs. Members of the public are welcome (the next meeting is tomorrow, July 11th).

But you can access his wealth of knowledge too. On his blog are posted dozens of helpful links. If you're new to a Mac or if you're a longtime Mac user but have learned just enough to get by doing the things you do day to day - give it a look. After all, don't you too want to 'Achieve the MAX from your Mac'?

loosening the roots

Things are happening on the house front. On Wednesday we met with the realtor. I was nervous about that -- felt like I was about to get my grade on the last six weeks of work.

It turned out fine. He didn't make any suggestions about more things to do (except re-roof -- something we were planning to do anyway). While he was here, we also talked about the kind of house we're looking for (a townhouse), the location (a little paradise somewhere in Cloverdale, Langley or South Surrey) and made a first date to go house-hunting.

Yesterday son (who is a roofer) came with his buds and unloaded the shingles. The are perched in bundles on the roof as I type. We're hoping for a speedy installation, but wouldn't you know, today it's raining.

☜ Back garden

Then last night around dinner time, our realtor's assistant came with the lawn sign. Now the world knows -- this place is for sale.

Side garden ☞

I tidied my garden plots yesterday. They sure needed it, as full of soggy cotton sticks as they were (from the cottonwood in the park behind us). As I collected and weeded and scratched the ground black, it suddenly hit me. This might be the last time I do this. Probably not, as we'll probably not sell so quickly. But it is possible.

I felt a grip inside. I'll miss the plant friends I've nurtured all these years -- the herbs, hostas and roses, my little plot of sea thrift, the joyous yellow alium, and the clumps of pink dianthus that are presently freshening the air with their spice. The garden is especially lush and full this year because of cool temperatures and lots of rain.

☜Front garden

I must capture this moment, I thought. And so, in a symbolic gesture of goodbye -- just in case this is the last time I grub about in these plots, I photographed each one. I hope whoever buys this house loves them as much as I have!

let God connect the dots

Late for work? Flight delayed? Ever wonder why these things happen so often? Could it be that God has a divine appointment for you to touch someone's life?

Helen Burns talks on "Connecting the Dots." (4 min.)

bad things, good people

When I heard last week that they had arrested a man (Mark Edward Grant – a repeat sexual offender) for the 1984 murder of Candace Derksen, I perked up my ears. Besides being gripped by the chilling story of a 13-year-old who mysteriously goes missing on her way home from school – the mere thought of which strikes fear into the heart of any parent – I know her parents Cliff and Wilma. We attended the same Bible School. It’s heartening to know that the police were still working on the case this many years later.

Of course that’s not the end of it. As Wilma is quoted in a Winnipeg Free Press article from May 17th, “It feels like our lives have been turned upside down again.” Now they face the lengthy (and unpredictable) court ordeal.

Not only were the lives of Candace’s parents turned upside down with her murder, but the lives of her friends as well. In a May 26th WPF article, Mike McIntyre reports on conversations he had with Candace’s friends Heidi and David after the arrest. David, 15 at the time of her disappearance and the last of her friends to see her alive on November 30, 1984, was the police’s prime suspect. He was interrogated again as recently as Valentine’s Day, 2007.

As with all these kinds of tragedies, it seems so unfair. Why did this happen to these wonderful people? But then we could ask, why do tragedies – illnesses and deaths and crimes etc. – happen to any and all of us? And when they do, how do we cope?

To me this illustrates again the importance of preparing in advance for the inevitable ‘day of trouble.’ One way to do that is to formulate now – before that trouble comes – a theology of suffering and evil. Take a look at these two posts at Rebecca Writes for a leg up in that department.

On Preparing for Suffering and Evil from D. A. Carson – link and notes on sermon one

On Preparing for Suffering and Evil from D. A. Carson – link and notes on sermon two

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And from another angle...

"Finding Forgiveness in the Depths of Sorrow" by Wilma Derksen (Candace's mom), originally published on the website of the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) in October 2006.

care home

We went to visit Ernie’s Dad in Kelowna at the care home on Sunday. He seemed particularly fragile, weeping easily and not remembering that Mom had died, or that he’d sold his farm in Saskatchewan many years ago. "Why am I here?" he’d asked repeatedly. "What am I waiting for? I was hoping you would take me to the farm today." By 11:30 we had pretty much exhausted topics of conversation, had taken him out for a walk and were parked at the table in preparation for lunch, which would be in 45 minutes.


About that time Bill arrived. Bill is the husband of Hattie, who sits at Dad’s table at mealtimes. Hattie has had Huntington’s disease for about 13 years. Every breakfast, lunch and supper Bill comes to feed her. Not only does he do that, but he also helps the other people who sit at the table. When Dad was new at the home, Bill made sure his meat was cut up – and he looks out for all of them that way.

So there he was again on Sunday, favoring his bad knees as he walked in (he’s in a lot of pain and on a ‘list’. "Good news," he said to us with not a little sarcasm in his voice, "they now tell me it's only a year to 18 months"). Though Hattie has no ability to talk, she sure can communicate. When Bill arrived she made all kinds of happy vocalizations and jerky movements with her hands, especially when Bill opened some containers and began to feed her her pre-lunch snack – what looked like chocolate pudding and pureed strawberries.

Another resident (don’t know his name – let’s call him Jimbo) who we’d passed in the entryway earlier wearing a toque and jacket and having a cigarette, came by just as Bill was about to feed Hattie another spoonful. Bill jokingly turned to Jimbo and said, "Open up." That brought a chuckle from everyone. Jimbo pulled up a chair beside Bill, it seemed just to be near this great guy.

A little later another table occupant took his place - actually his friendly white-haired wife brought him – a German man who is also slipping down the dementia slide. His wife was very solicitous of him, making sure his clothes were fixed, and urging him to sit up straight. He’d had his lunch already, she told us, some food she’d brought from home. He was there in case he was hungry for anything more. She told us how he doesn’t see too well and that, along with his declining memory makes him think that she is every white-haired woman in the place. She comes to visit and he tells her he has seen her all morning.

Just before noon the fourth table occupant rolled along, parked in his spot and the eight of us continued talking. Bill told us about the garden he was planting – how he had put in tomatoes and squash for his neighbors who in turn mow the lawn for him. He interrupted his story when one of the male nurses went by, to ask advice about being able to record videos on his new HD - TV recorder. "I used to be able to record tapes no problem," he told us. "Then I got this fancy new machine and I’ve got nothing but trouble!"

And so we chatted until they brought the lunch trays – about Bill’s garden and VCR problems, the German lady’s husband, our Dad – this motley crew of us, bound together by caring for our failing loved ones. And I got the nicest feeling of community, of belonging, of the sense that God was smiling on this knot of ordinary folks (some of whom are really very exceptional) brought together for a brief time on a little care-home island.

the week that was

This week has certainly seen me distracted blog-wise. First there was that learning curve I talked about earlier. Add to that our continuing saga of paring down possessions in preparation for selling the house -- and you have one multi-tasking mama.

This was the week of repairing window ledges. That meant scraping off old caulk and loose paint, then filling the holes with plastic wood (can you say ‘fumes’ -- enough for a decent high I’m sure, if that's you're poison), letting it dry and sanding smooth. Yesterday I painted.

Yesterday we also emptied the attic storage. Going through the boxes of toys, stuffed animals and dolls was like opening a time capsule. Remember the Fisher Price playhouse and garage (those were old when we bought them second hand in the late 80s), Cabbage Patch dolls and that garrulous creature, almost as big (and heavy) as a toddler named Cricket, in whose back you installed a cassette tape so she would talk to you -- non-stop.


We also found garden chemicals from when we moved here in ’83, the fat brown wooden curtain rods with rings that were in the house when we moved in (I think they're coming back into style), our cross-country skis (a neighbor took them off my hands -- yaaay!) and four boxes of wedding presents we’ve never got around to using.

Meanwhile, spring continued her sprint through the countryside. This week Dame's Rocket, Oriental Poppy and Laburnum -- with its gorgeous chains of poisonous yellow blossoms -- were in bloom.

wherein we speak of apples and windows

Well, my introduction to the Mac has been up-and-down. For starters, when I took it out of the box on Saturday, turned it on and was directed through the setup process, somehow I goofed in setting up my password – this being THE PASSWORD – the password that I need to input every time I turn on the computer, every time I try to load new software. Basically it’s the key to the computer. ARGH! So all weekend I simmered over that (you know the feeling you got when you were given a new toy and in taking it out of the box, you dinged it, so that ever after when you looked at it, you felt bad – that feeling).

Monday saw that problem solved - and a couple of new ones created. For once I reset the password, my 30-day trial of Office for Mac was no longer recognized, and other programs (like email and the web browser) asked me for the password and when I didn’t give the one they expected (the original one which I typoed), kept slapping my hand with denials. I did finally get them straightened out.

Another matter which still isn’t solved is how I’ll get my writing files transferred over to the new machine. It’s my fault, since I’ve used WordPerfect software for years (preferring it to Word, which I also have on my old Windows machine). When I transferred some files via CD, the Word files opened just fine but the Mac couldn’t decipher anything WordPerfect. In sleuthing around on the internet, I read that the Mac version of Word doesn’t support conversion from WordPerfect to Word, as the Windows version of Word does. So this means I’ll be spending a fair few hours converting files from WP to Word on my old machine before moving them to the new.

As for the move – I was hoping a memory stick would be my moving van. But it seems probably not. For the ancient Windows program I’ve been using needs a driver to download onto such a device. I’ve tried downloading the appropriate driver from the internet from at least two different places and it downloads as a Word file! (It’s probably in a zip-type file format that’s way too hip for my ancient machine to recognize.)

All that to say, the transition isn't going to be without its bumps. But yesterday I did manage to get the printer installed on the Mac and today I bought an extra long printer cable and another cable connection. Then I rearranged my office for the long haul so that both machines can be accessed comfortably, using the same printer and plugged interchangeably into the one cable connection by me simply crawling under my desk and unplugging/plugging in the cable (instead of moving the one cable from machine to machine). That way I can break in on the new machine slowly while being able to efficiently do the stuff I need to on my old clunker because it’s still in service.

The Mac is elegant and zippy. It’s also super quiet. As for having to shut down and boot up again because of some problem (which happens on average about once a day with the Windows machine) – it hasn’t happened yet. I can leave it on all the time. It just goes to sleep - in fact it’s sleeping quietly on the desk behind me as I type.

where am I?

Yesterday we took the plunge and replaced my old Windows 98 computer with a brand new iMac. Oh my! Now I feel like I’m learning to type all over again. I’ve been on an ergonomic keyboard for years so using a straight one again is beyond frustrating. On top of that. Mac uses a whole new complement of keystrokes. All of a sudden something as simple as moving the cursor to the beginning or end of the line becomes a big production.

Learning to operate in a new computer environment is only a small part of the problem, though. Because now I also need to transfer files. I discovered yesterday that the WordPerfect program I love isn’t available on Mac, in fact Mac doesn’t even read it so I’ll need to be spending many hours converting files on the old computer before moving them over. But, on the plus side – no more virus protect software. And when I get bored, I can turn on the built in camera and take a picture of myself.

Blogging will be light for the next little while. There’s lots to do, not the least of which is, teach myself to type on this dinky little keyboard.