baa.

this has been a most lovely sort of weekend. and I have so many highlights and swell stories to share with you, but, alas, I'm afraid you may not hear them all.... I shall try to touch on some of the best moments though. I'm not really sure how to go about this... without it being too confusing.. hmm.. well, let's give it a whirl...

friday.

friday morning dawned bright and glorious. the smell of the morning air was sweet and refreshing. and lots of excitement was in store.... I got to go out to a friend's farm and help out with the whole sheep shearing process. wow. I was so stoked! it was fantastic and I feel like I learned so much! you know how little kids often talk a lot? it's like, every thought that goes through their minds, comes straight out their mouths. well, I really felt like that. I tried to reign in my questions just a tad, but a million thoughts and questions about sheep were running through my mind. such as, do they ever plan their escape? why are some of them mean? why do they jump over a really high invisible wall? how long is their memory? how many lambs do they have? is it stressful for the lambs to have their mom's sheared? helping shear sheep was such a fun thing to do. even if it wasn't on my "life list" it should have been and now it can be checked off.

but alas. it is now Monday night, (thank-you autosave and sleepyness) and I feel as thought it would be misleading to continue writing this as though it were Sunday night. so I shall have to save my stories, because there are really a couple note-worthy ones. well, at least one more. but for now, I'm tired. and tomorrow is my birthday. so off to bed I go. goodnight.

long blinks.

I was up far too early this morning, considering the hour I went to bed. and today was a most full sort of day. and yet... again. it's late. too late. to blog. tonight. so as my blinks are growing increasingly long, and my typing skills are depleting at the same speed....I'll simply have to leave you with the promise that I'll be back. g'night... from:me.

pink smarties.

yesterday, I met a cute little boy. I think. actually, I'm really not sure. it could have been a girl. but it sure was cute! it all started when I was at a worship service... and I had to use the washroom. yes, a rather unexciting beginning to my story, I know. I meandered through the building, but much to my dismay, I found BOYS cleaning the bathroom. when I mentioned that it looked like I probably couldn't use the washroom at that moment, they snickered and said, "not if you don't want a bunch of men in there with you!" now, don't think poorly of them... they were very kind, but quite immature, and told me they were almost done... and I'd better not make a mess just after they'd cleaned up. so I smiled and wandered over to a vending machine to "look" (AKA burn time as unawkwardly as possible). there I met.... it. he/she. it told me it's name, and the name could easily work for both and he/she was young enough you just couldn't tell. I was so sure it was a boy, but he/she had pink pull-ups hangin' over their camo-pants. and then I was confused. anyway, that is mostly besides the point. Wee Child was staring longingly into the vending machine... and, of course, right at eye level for Child, were the Smarties. I came over and stood beside him/her. Child then looked up at me... with an almost mournful expression, and stuck it's finger on the glass and pointed straight at the Smarties and said, " I like those." so, I bent down and looked with him/her, and said, "oh yes! Smarties! which color is you favorite Smartie?" "pink" Child replied. I nodded my head in agreement, although, looking back on it now, I don't really agree, as I don't really like Smarties at all. and I highly doubt that pink would be the best of all the colors. maybe brown. or red. and I don't know why. I think my mom liked those Smarties best, when I was little (and quite probably even to this day) so I assumed they were the best. anyway, I turned to check on the washroom situation. you may have forgotten about my bladder by this point, but I surely had not. then, Little Child's voice calls out to me and says, "I like you." I turn back towards him/her and smile and a "ya?"then Child gives one solemn nod and explains, "you have nice hair."

*aw*

anybody else could have said that to me and it wouldn't mean so much as it did coming from Little Child's mouth. children have a way of saying what they think... no matter how good or bad that may be. and with such marvelous simplicity. then Child proceeded to tell me about how he/she liked chocolate and how it was good for him/her. and I laughed and told him/her that it was good for me too! and that was our moment. the boys slumped out of the bathroom, with mops in hand, and I said thank-you and made a show of tip-toeing... so as not too mess up their tidy ladies bathroom. you really don't need to know the rest of the story.

and so it ends here.

late night walks.

the city that I live in is rather safe. now, I know a person can be fooled into believing that everything is sunshine and rainbows all of the time here, but I try to be careful, as I know that that isn't always the case. tonight, I went for a walk/run, stuck some music in my ears and breathed in deeply of the wet, fresh, crisp smell. it was lovely and refreshing. when I'm walking by myself I try to be sort of smart and keep one earbud out so I would hear a car pull up, or someone else walking. I also try to stick to main roads where if someone tried to pull any funny business, they would surely be caught. and of course I have my cellphone handy. but, still... sometimes boys are dumb. and tonight a red truck pulled into a parking lot and was talking to me. well, not the truck.... um, the boys inside of the truck. they began to call to me, and I pretended not to hear (I have music in my ear after all!) and continued walking. but, after a few moments, they persisted. I remembered what I learned about sometimes giving someone the "warm-cold shoulder" like I imagine maybe Jesus would. if they're not being crude, there's no reason to be rude. usually. but maybe don't quote me on that. anyway, once there was ample distance between us (yelling distance in fact) I yelled, "pardon me?" they said, "you need a ride?".. I said, "thanks, but no thanks!"... "huh?" "NO THANK YOU!" I said. I turn to carry on my merry way. next question, "how old are you?" honestly? come on. older than you... but I just yelled "20!" and then began to walk away. next question. "are you a hooker?" are you kidding me?! and I got mad... but instead of doing something dumb.. I just walked faster... stewing. I'm wearing a knee-length wool coat over my hoodie and jeans. I have a toque on my head. and I thought about what I would have liked to have said to them. perhaps something along the lines of, "nope. I'm really not. But if I were.... you surely wouldn't be able to afford me." is that bad? maybe. probably. Mom, don't worry. I'll buy some pepper spray sometime.

singing.

tonight I did something very frightening. I sang. on a stage. with a microphone in front of my face. Josh worded it well when he said I like to sing... just not in front of people. it doesn't matter it was only a room full of girls in grades 1-6(?). it doesn't matter that there were three other people singing along with me. I was terrified. but I don't want to be the sort of person who lets fear rule my life. so, instead of refusing, I sang... and....and did actions!! you must understand... I sometimes have a hard time singing a song I don't know very well, and clapping in church... let alone doing actions! but I think it was okay. maybe not the most glamourous job done by me, but maybe it wasn't the worst they've heard either...

the words of my mouth.

language. what a wonderful gift. we're able to do so many lovely things with the words we speak. we have the ability to build each other up... encourage one another... and when someone is having a rough day, we can tell them to hang in there... and know that they are loved. our words wield incredible power. and along with great power, comes great responsibility. because our words also have the power to cut. they can be sharp and thoughtless. and you can't take them back. lately, I've been thinking on this subject and noticing some things about myself that I'm not sure I like. I really try to think before I speak. now this doesn't always happen. you see, I talk a lot and therefore have many opportunities to get myself into trouble with a "slip of the tongue" sigh. and what I've been noticing about myself, and maybe even others too, is that when I'm tired.... my "verbal filter" slips just a little. and other things often can play into that as well... I notice that I'll have quick, stinging remark when that specific situation isn't even the real issue at all. I'll be upset about something else entirely, yet someone else gets the brunt of it. I'm not too wickedly of an angry-type person who takes out that anger on innocent bystanders on a regular biases. my idea of snapping on someone is quite possibly mild in the whole scheme of things. but I know my heart, and I know how unnecessary it was, and that it's probably betsarcater for me to just "zip my lip" when I'm tired or upset. instead of saying something I'll regret. even a sarcastic joke, when spoken with even a hint of truth, can be hurtful. I noticed more than one slip up this past weekend on my part. and had the Holy Spirit tug on my conscience. so what if my day isn't the best? that hardly qualifies as an excuse to be careless in my speech! how much of what people say is simply unnecessary? now I know sometimes things need to be said that aren't fun to hear... but they can be said well. and with love. I want to be a woman who speaks words of life. I want Christ to be evident in my life. and in my speech. I want the words of my mouth, and the meditations of my heart to be pleasing to my Father in heaven.

I didn't mean for this to be a personal growth blog. personal growth blogs have the potential to be boring.

I hope you aren't bored. and if you are, it's alright. I understand. one day I'll be less boring.

today, it snowed. and sometimes I feel more poetic when the weather is miserable. "more poetic" doesn't mean a whole lot... just "more than usual"... and "usual" is none.... so here:

and the day was cold... and it almost became quite dreary.. and surely would have, if not for the large, wet, elegant snowflakes that drifted lazily toward the earth, as though they hadn't a care in the world... until finally coming to their resting place upon her nose and eyelashes. and the world around her was white once again.

dreary.

today was cloudy and wet and utterly dreary. it feels like a cold November's day, only without the promise of Christmas.

but. spring is on it's way. and I hold on to that. and I do suppose that today was a lovely last chance to wear the winter-ish sweater dress'. and boots. and feel very much like I must be in London.

dreary rhymes with weary. that's interesting. it fits so well to say that the weather is "dreary". that's all I have to say and you know exactly what I mean. perhaps, such is the case, because the whole world, all of creation is weary of this.... and is so anticipating the next season. one of growth and new life. and so am I.

love. always.

"love is the answer... at least for most of the questions in my heart. like why are we here? and where do we go? and how come it's so hard?" oh... good ol' Jack Johnson. way to weave those words. I won't use the word "always" here, because I'm learning that it's never smart to always use absolutes, such as never or always. because there can always be an exception. so, I usually listen to the words in songs. and I mull them over, and think about what they mean, and if I agree or not and why. so, Jack got me to thinking.... is love the answer to those questions? so I decided to answer those questions, in my head, (and yes, that is basically the same thing as talking to myself) with the word love and see how well it fits.

why are we here? love.

and where to we go? love.

and how come it's so hard? love.

and I don't know that I agree in the same sense that Jack intends it. yet, at the same time, it can fit. but first, I would have to broaden the type of love that this entails to include, even be filled up with, God's love. His is the only perfectly perfect love. His is a love that makes senseless things make sense.

chase.

today I had a thought. I've had it before, but today I gave it a small amount of time to twirl through my mind. perhaps you've thought this thought as well... but then again, maybe you haven't... so I'll ask, in a rhetorical sort of way.... have you ever noticed a little kid, running away from their parent? and I don't mean in that annoying, bratty sort of way. goodness no. but I mean in the sort of way where it's purely innocent and fun. there's something about that sort of a scene that I cannot simply ignore. they're begging to be chased. their eyes light up, and their laughter tumbles out of their smiling little faces.... a light, dancing, belly laugh. they run for all they're worth, almost tripping countless times. and not always, but often, their mom or dad or friend, who has much longer legs and could probably catch them in a heartbeat, humors them for just a moment. they let them run. and pretend that they're trying oh so hard to catch up. and then... that extra special moment comes... my favorite part.... when mom or dad decides that little johnny or susie needs to be caught. and those couple extra long steps it takes to catch up are spent, and suddenly, little susie glances back, and realizes that daddy's right there... right behind her.. and she squeals with delight... and moves her little legs even faster. and then.... he scoops her up. and sometimes, he'll swing her around and then proceed to toss her up into the air, and she feels like she's flying... up into the great big sky. and she'll giggle until her face is all pink. but then, other times.... when daddy finally catches her, he scoops her up... into his big, strong, safe arms, and holds her close. and maybe even gives her an eskimo kiss. and when she wraps those tiny little arms around him, we're sometimes privileged enough to see him close his eyes for a brief second and smile a deep sort of smile. and that moment seems frozen and sweet and slow.... and then little susie quickly wiggles and drops down to run off and play more. and daddy smiles after her. not knowing that you have a happy tear in your eye. not even knowing you were watching at all. and life goes on.

in closing, I think, no matter how old we get, we all like to play chase. and we like to run away. but the very best moment is the moment when we're caught. because.... well, ultimately, we like to be caught.

ps.

all of the photos on this blog, as of yet, are taken by moi.... just thought you should know. and I'm goin' to try real hard to remember to make a note if they're taken by someone else.

a place for pins and needles.

today, I finally finished my little project that was only supposed to take me a much shorter amount of time then it did. and it was worth it. I don't know how confident I am of the secure-ness of it. I made it out of an old handkerchief I bought at the post (yes, you may insert your, "ew." comment here, but I did wash it first) BUT I'm sure it will serve it's purpose faithfully in my home, until it's dying day... even if that dying day is not so far off.

make a pincushion=*check*

this week has been too crazy, and I'm soo looking forward tomorrow..... it will still be busy, but only with wonderful things, like baking cookies with a friend, changing my oil with my dad, having a pizza party with new and old friends, cleaning combined with good music, and pretending I know how to run a cafe again.

tonight, a new boy came to our youth group, and I was again reminded why you can't be too stylish in our small town. I've always said that if I lived in Montreal, I would be much more

stylish, all of the time.... but some things I see in the store are just too much for this place. and people laugh and tell me to dress how I want... and I usually do. perhaps on a milder scale though. anyway, he walked in and everyone was whispering about his shoes. the shoes were honestly just too cool for us. I knew that they're what is big right now, but it seemed I was the only one. and his hair was styled! my goodness, it even was cut specifically for that style. gracious!

later on tonight, I very kindly let down some drunken boys who live beside my friend at res, as I desperately rang her doorbell hoping someone would rescue me. I think they maybe even thought I was friendly as I said , "oh? you're having a party? in there? oh wow. oh... and you want me to come... haha (nervous laugh), ahem.... aw... sorry, but I actually have other plans already ...oh.. what are they? oh, I'm just going to an art show. ya. oh? everyone from the art show is coming here afterward? to your party? oh wow. very cool. well, have a good night! I will too thanks!" and then I ran away. I wonder if Jesus ever had to give someone a warm cold shoulder...

somedays, less is more in my blogging world.

reserve battery power.

I don't like country music. well, not usually. there have been some exceptions... mainly because they're tied to a memory, and a few others because they're fun to make fun of. but, as a rule, country music just ain't my thang. even if I do have an appreciation for cowboy hats, and plaid, snap-up shirts, and the big open sky. it's too.. oh I don't know... whiney? maybe that's not quite the right word. anyway, you didn't need to know all that. I guess, really, you don't need to know anything I've blogged about so far. but the point is,

I don't like country music.

yet, here I am.... and something very much so verging on country is playing in my basement. and I'm letting it. it's a remix of the Doobie Brothers I think. only sadder. it's not that country-ish... just the guitar is.. or something.

it's blizzarding outside. today is April 8th. these two statement shouldn't be put together, yet here we are. I'm surprised this doesn't anger me, but it's rather exciting. I love storms so much... you really have no idea. I'm not sure why.... there's something dangerous and exciting about them I guess. it's like God's power is ever so slightly been unleashed. I especially love it when it snows so much that everything just has to stop. everything that doesn't really matter. and only the things of lasting value can carry on. people, in all of our busy little lives are forced to stand still. and watch little snowflakes dance, so very slowly, to the ground. so small is that single snowflake, yet he plays an important role. he's just one of many. and oh so unique. designed with such precision and creativity. and we are suddenly forced to have the time to stop. stop running around. and we suddenly have the time to take in it's beauty. I'm suppose I'm just feeling melodramatic. and a wee bit melancholy. it must be the snow.

my computer just told me I'm now "run-ing on re-serve bat-a-ry pow-er." just like that, in his scary robotic voice. and I agreed. maybe it's time for a change.

this music isn't country at all. I might even like it.

early bird. night owl.

I'm really quite ridiculous. I am continually astounded at my thorough ridiculous-ness. I have the capability to deeply appreciate mornings. It's really such a wonderful thing to be able to get up early and have a quiet time with the sunrise blazing in on you, and some toasty coffee, and that thing called breakfast... you know, the meal people usually eat in the morning? ya, well... the meal SOME people usually eat in the morning. it sometimes has eggs. I like eggs. I like coffee. I like sunrises. I like quiet time. with Jesus especially. I like to go for walks in the morning even... before everything else wakes up... it's so crisp and fresh and delightful to ones nose. and I'm not a huge bird fan... but they really are beautiful sounding in the morning.

I think I could be a morning person.

but I have a problem.

I am a night owl. I think. I must be! there's no other reasonable explanation. the other night, for instance, I started.... started.... a sewing project.. after midnight! It was a pin cushion. and I'm not done because I didn't have any cotton batting... or whatever you wish to call it.... fluff! But I did spend quite some time trying to make friends with my sewing machine. not a total fail.... but it certainly took some perseverance. I think it needs a name. but that's just an example. far, far too often I find myself doing things. random little things, way too late at night. they matter. they need to be done, yes. well, most of them. but really? really. must I do them so very late at night? I could do them in the day, but at this point my days are just too busy. that needs to change. maybe if I got up earlier..... but I do so love being cozy in my bed, and the sweetness of sleep. and half-dreams. I have to go get my laundry now. oh... it's after midnight. what do you know...

pros and cons.

well. here I am. I've gone and done it. jumped on the bandwagon and started a blog. and at this exact moment I'm not too sure how I feel about it. it all started when my good friend Cheryl went and read someone's blog to me. and I was so surprised because it was fun!! who knew a blog doesn't have to be for angry people or people with a great deal of excitement going on in their lives. it doesn't necessarily have to have a single-minded purpose or a specific point I'm trying to sell you on. it can be, dare I say it.... just for fun! shocking I know. but I really did send a great deal of time thinking about this.... so I've decided to make use of this place to share my thoughts, and consider, for just a moment, the pros and the cons.

pros:

.it's a place for me to share the bright spots of my day and also the cloudy ones, and a place to able to laugh at myself.

.it's a lovely way to keep in touch with old friends and new ones. the ones who live in far off places and the ones who live within walking distance.
.I like photos and quotes and stories and such, and it will be fun to share those nifty things with anyone who cares to read them at all.

.I don't really care if no one at all reads this. but if you do you do, thanks.

cons: (or fears..? but most of them have a fairly obvious solution.)

.I love to journal. I really don't want this to take away from that at all.

.I want to write letters to people. I don't want to not, because of this.

.I don't want this to be "another thing". you know, something that I feel obligated to do.

.I don't want to have the pressure for this to always be "good" and "entertaining". if it is, sweet.

if not, I'm okay with that.

.I don't want this too steal too much of my time. there's too much life to live.

.stalker. enough said.

a few things you should know:
the A key on my keyboard is sticky. I like photos. I will be random and sporadic, and I may not even post for months at a time. so there. oh. and also. I am a wretched speller. praise the Lord for spell check.

and so it begins.