Sunday, December 19, 2010
Hooliganting: Christmassy
Hooliganting: Christmassy: "Tis the season to be Christmassy. Now I know that really isn't a word but it does represent the thoughts that are within the quiet spaces of..."
Christmassy
Tis the season to be Christmassy. Now I know that really isn't a word but it does represent the thoughts that are within the quiet spaces of my mind. Currently, I am watching the Grinch Who Stole Christmas and this was preceeded by A Christmas Carol. I taught sunday school this morning and made Smores and penguins with the 5 year olds. So, what have I learned today? What is the purpose of Christmas? Here are my thoughts at random.
1) I believe that Christ is the centre of Christ - mass. This means that I celebrate Christmas as a birthday. I love the festivities of birthdays with cake, presents and crafts and it is this celebratory event that I taught in Sunday School. Jesus was the intial gift who saves from sin - and since I have many - I appreciate this gift. I can celebrate this gift with joy and singing and fun too. I don't have the serious bone often.
2) Children are a gift. Each one is uniquely wrapped with treasures inside. I am surrounded by gifts that when unwrapped have creative minds, loving hearts, wonder and curiosity, voices that sing, legs that dance and laughter. Even those moments that drive me crazy are a gift as they are teaching me patience, kindness, respect for individuality and thinking that is not always inside the box.
3) Commitment to stand for what I believe in. I can do my best and that is good enough. If Jesus were lowly enough to be born in a stable then I have enough - I am enough as the gift that I am to be where I am, exactly as I am and someone will appreciate the gifts that I have to give. I can dance in a show and make mistakes but those mistakes still have value as those eyes in the audience can see that you don't have to be slim to dance, you don't have to be young to dance, you don't have to be perfect to dance. You just have to dance to dance. (Feel free to substitute your passion for the word dance). Be committed to do what you say when you say you are going to do it. In fact, that just might be my resolution for the coming year.
4) Take time to spend with people. You are the gift that they need. They don't need the stuff as much as they need you. A phone call, a coffee delivered, a helping hand. Why not be the "coupon book" that will offer to have a new mom have shower, deliver a coffee to someone that can't get out much, do dishes for someone, help clean a house, drive someone somewhere, and don't ask for your money back. I can be a friend in many ways and I will always be there if you need me. I don't care if my feelings are hurt, or if I feel neglected, or if I am too busy . . I will always have time for you. I challenge you to be the same.
5) I made smore snowmen with the children because at Christmas you always need s'more. Some more love,peace, kindness and healing, compassion and passion, dreams and wonder, and the GIFT,
I challenge you to learn as I have. To dream as I do. And to be a gift. Most importantly, be a GIFT. Be Christmassy.
Merry Christmas!
1) I believe that Christ is the centre of Christ - mass. This means that I celebrate Christmas as a birthday. I love the festivities of birthdays with cake, presents and crafts and it is this celebratory event that I taught in Sunday School. Jesus was the intial gift who saves from sin - and since I have many - I appreciate this gift. I can celebrate this gift with joy and singing and fun too. I don't have the serious bone often.
2) Children are a gift. Each one is uniquely wrapped with treasures inside. I am surrounded by gifts that when unwrapped have creative minds, loving hearts, wonder and curiosity, voices that sing, legs that dance and laughter. Even those moments that drive me crazy are a gift as they are teaching me patience, kindness, respect for individuality and thinking that is not always inside the box.
3) Commitment to stand for what I believe in. I can do my best and that is good enough. If Jesus were lowly enough to be born in a stable then I have enough - I am enough as the gift that I am to be where I am, exactly as I am and someone will appreciate the gifts that I have to give. I can dance in a show and make mistakes but those mistakes still have value as those eyes in the audience can see that you don't have to be slim to dance, you don't have to be young to dance, you don't have to be perfect to dance. You just have to dance to dance. (Feel free to substitute your passion for the word dance). Be committed to do what you say when you say you are going to do it. In fact, that just might be my resolution for the coming year.
4) Take time to spend with people. You are the gift that they need. They don't need the stuff as much as they need you. A phone call, a coffee delivered, a helping hand. Why not be the "coupon book" that will offer to have a new mom have shower, deliver a coffee to someone that can't get out much, do dishes for someone, help clean a house, drive someone somewhere, and don't ask for your money back. I can be a friend in many ways and I will always be there if you need me. I don't care if my feelings are hurt, or if I feel neglected, or if I am too busy . . I will always have time for you. I challenge you to be the same.
5) I made smore snowmen with the children because at Christmas you always need s'more. Some more love,peace, kindness and healing, compassion and passion, dreams and wonder, and the GIFT,
I challenge you to learn as I have. To dream as I do. And to be a gift. Most importantly, be a GIFT. Be Christmassy.
Merry Christmas!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Hooliganting: OMG - I just lived up to my reputation . . AGAIN
Hooliganting: OMG - I just lived up to my reputation . . AGAIN: "I am still not sure whether I should laugh, cry, sheepishly wave, giggle, joke, stare off nonchalently at nothingness, pretend it didn't hap..."
OMG - I just lived up to my reputation . . AGAIN
I am still not sure whether I should laugh, cry, sheepishly wave, giggle, joke, stare off nonchalently at nothingness, pretend it didn't happen (when I know full well it did) and well - there were those horrible things called witnesses. . . I probably shouldn't even blog about it but there is that humorous element to the whole situation too.
Here I am telling the story. It was a dark and stormy night. The best stories always seem to start this way and in this case it was true. The snow was blowing and the roads were sheet ice. I arrived at work exactly on time and headed it to be met by the coat rack. Frantic footsteps morphed into the body of my delightful boss who asked me to be the welcome mat for the event. However, that job was a bit slow so I was transferred to the kitchen.
I am the first to admit that I am surrounded by a host of talented, well palletted cooks. Some are even chefs. In the kitchen, we were slicing bread and prepping appetizers for an evening social gathering. The food was running a bit late and the guests were getting restless. Finally, it was all ready and the plates began leaving the kitchen. And then, my culinary talents came to the forefront. I reached into the oven with the tea towel that was subbing as a pair of actual oven mitts. I turned to put the platter on the stove and began turning the appies with the spatula to even the browning. My other hand was holding the tea towel. Apparently, I even waved the tea towel while working at it.
The towel
was
on
FIRE!
The staff are alternately stomping on the tea towel that had been struck from my hand. I looked a bit dazed and so did the rest. I have no idea HOW I did it. All I know is that once again I have managed to inadvertantly catch a kitchen object on fire. Thank goodness my insurance company doesn't know about it. I have mentioned that I am not a natural in the kitchen and this isn't the first time I have managed to catch something on fire that I was cooking. There is a reason that I was doomed to dishes as a child and then as a roomie. A) Everyone else was a better cook. B) How much trouble can you get into with water? On second thoughts, don't answer that.
End result: I am once again banished from helping in kitchens of any kind and any size. Hopefully, this banishment doesn't include my own or I will have some very hungry children in the house. . . but it might take a couple of days for people to forget about this wee adventure. It is definately going to take longer to get over the embarrassment.
On the other hand - if you had seen their faces. ... heard the shocked gasps and bewildered faces and the resignation of my coworkers . . .
As of this moment - I remain Queen of the Campstove, which is actually meant to have flames! This is my kitchen . . .(so what if they had a campfire ban.. . )
Here I am telling the story. It was a dark and stormy night. The best stories always seem to start this way and in this case it was true. The snow was blowing and the roads were sheet ice. I arrived at work exactly on time and headed it to be met by the coat rack. Frantic footsteps morphed into the body of my delightful boss who asked me to be the welcome mat for the event. However, that job was a bit slow so I was transferred to the kitchen.
I am the first to admit that I am surrounded by a host of talented, well palletted cooks. Some are even chefs. In the kitchen, we were slicing bread and prepping appetizers for an evening social gathering. The food was running a bit late and the guests were getting restless. Finally, it was all ready and the plates began leaving the kitchen. And then, my culinary talents came to the forefront. I reached into the oven with the tea towel that was subbing as a pair of actual oven mitts. I turned to put the platter on the stove and began turning the appies with the spatula to even the browning. My other hand was holding the tea towel. Apparently, I even waved the tea towel while working at it.
The towel
was
on
FIRE!
The staff are alternately stomping on the tea towel that had been struck from my hand. I looked a bit dazed and so did the rest. I have no idea HOW I did it. All I know is that once again I have managed to inadvertantly catch a kitchen object on fire. Thank goodness my insurance company doesn't know about it. I have mentioned that I am not a natural in the kitchen and this isn't the first time I have managed to catch something on fire that I was cooking. There is a reason that I was doomed to dishes as a child and then as a roomie. A) Everyone else was a better cook. B) How much trouble can you get into with water? On second thoughts, don't answer that.
End result: I am once again banished from helping in kitchens of any kind and any size. Hopefully, this banishment doesn't include my own or I will have some very hungry children in the house. . . but it might take a couple of days for people to forget about this wee adventure. It is definately going to take longer to get over the embarrassment.
On the other hand - if you had seen their faces. ... heard the shocked gasps and bewildered faces and the resignation of my coworkers . . .
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Seriously? Why did no one tell me that?
Seriously? Sometimes life is designed to make you feel that you are completely foolish. This moment is definately one of those moments. You see, one of the joys in life that I have is really deliciously made London Fog. I happen to be rather particular about the qualities of my London Fog. My London Fog is made with one shot of vanilla flavor, skim milk and one Earl Grey tea bag. Sounds simple, but it really isn't.
I love the one that I get from Coco Jo's downtown. One of my luxuries is to go downtown to get a London Fog and relax for a bit. Meanwhile the girls like to get a hot chocolate. The difficult part is that the drive takes 20 minutes through mad chaotic traffic and that is just one way. This means that you have to have a reason to be downtown in the first place. To be honest, I will not drive downtown for just the London Fog.
The only other place in town that I knew that made a London Fog was Starbucks. Trust me, what they make cannot be classified as a London Fog in my opinion. It just doesn't suit my tastebuds. When I couldn't get to the real London Fog, I sometimes settled for a Tim Horton's Steeped Tea. Now, that appeals to me on some levels, but it really cannot be considered to be up to the standards of a true luxurous beverage.
So, now imagine my surprise and disgust when I discover via a friend that SUBWAY has a drive through and sells coffees. I looked at her with mild disbelief and just thought to myself that it was like the regular coffee shops in town. She insists that it is a "real" coffee place that is run in conjunction with SUBWAY. I was willing to indulge her and went for a drive through the drive-thru. To my great astonishment, they sold a London Fog. So, I ordered one. It was even better than Coco Jo's. I was completely floored.
But to tell the truth, the worst part of the whole situation was that this place is two blocks from my house. I am so completely disgusted that this place has been there for over a year, and because I don't eat at SUBWAY, I never found it. Still shaking my head over the whole scenario.
I love the one that I get from Coco Jo's downtown. One of my luxuries is to go downtown to get a London Fog and relax for a bit. Meanwhile the girls like to get a hot chocolate. The difficult part is that the drive takes 20 minutes through mad chaotic traffic and that is just one way. This means that you have to have a reason to be downtown in the first place. To be honest, I will not drive downtown for just the London Fog.
The only other place in town that I knew that made a London Fog was Starbucks. Trust me, what they make cannot be classified as a London Fog in my opinion. It just doesn't suit my tastebuds. When I couldn't get to the real London Fog, I sometimes settled for a Tim Horton's Steeped Tea. Now, that appeals to me on some levels, but it really cannot be considered to be up to the standards of a true luxurous beverage.
So, now imagine my surprise and disgust when I discover via a friend that SUBWAY has a drive through and sells coffees. I looked at her with mild disbelief and just thought to myself that it was like the regular coffee shops in town. She insists that it is a "real" coffee place that is run in conjunction with SUBWAY. I was willing to indulge her and went for a drive through the drive-thru. To my great astonishment, they sold a London Fog. So, I ordered one. It was even better than Coco Jo's. I was completely floored.
But to tell the truth, the worst part of the whole situation was that this place is two blocks from my house. I am so completely disgusted that this place has been there for over a year, and because I don't eat at SUBWAY, I never found it. Still shaking my head over the whole scenario.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Hooliganting: The Full Monty
Hooliganting: The Full Monty: "The first thing that comes to mind is? . . .Ok not that but yes, that movie is up for debate. You see, today I had one of those days that pu..."
The Full Monty
The first thing that comes to mind is? . . .Ok not that but yes, that movie is up for debate. You see, today I had one of those days that puzzles me. The time warp continuem crossed with my insane desire to do all things and be all things to everyone has jumped up and bitten me, and so I found myself almost thinking. I would suggest that I might have been thinking if I had time to think about anything at all. Are you confused yet? Good. Welcome to my world.
The door of my world opened up today to getting children up and dressed, ready in time to school when they are too tired and cranky to function thanks to Christmas Concert hooliganting last night. The snow was thick on the drive and the roads had sheens of ice as the van rock and rolled its way to school. Thanks to a heads up on bussing delays, I drove home to shovel the drive before rocking and rolling to the other school to drop off child two. Then my morning hit a lull as I scrapped with two friends. Cutting and pasting and recrafting images, and then ranting over the to do lists. By the way...this was not on my list.
So then it was time to get things moving again. I collected the first child and brought her home for lunch. I addressed cards and processed the list of who had moved and who needed cards and still working on who I have missed. If that is you, you need to tell me so I can fix it. Then, I had a couple of project related things to do. So I started by going to the grocery store to stand in line for an hour to get what I needed. One hour in, I had to leave to get the Grade 2 kids from school. The shopping was left in the store as the line was too long.
So, I have my children, but there is still much to do. I drop off one to the childcare as I have to go downtown. I line up at Tim Hortons for the coffee that needs delivery, and then drive to deliver it. The long line of traffic is the next line to navigate and finally the dance studio is in sight. That child goes to dance lessons while I park and go into the post office. You guessed it, I had to line up for another hour just to buy stamps and stop my post from coming during the holidays. I am not the best at getting to the mail box so it is simpler to not have delivery. This is still not my last line . .
I gathered Ailish up and hustled her to the gymnastics line, where we joined other long suffering parents who also line up every 3 months so that their children have the chance to be the next Nadia. Thankfully, Ailish was rescued and I continued to wait. I finished my evening with lining up at Extra Foods (to get stuff) and Walmart (to get stuff) and now the children are in bed and I am still sympathizing with those characters in the Full Monty's EI line.
At Walmart tonight, I finally got the stuff and I think I might nearly be done Christmas shopping. I could answer that in the definitive if I decided to think about it but it is definately too late to think about it. While in line, I caught myself shuffling my feet and tap dancing. People were swaying in the lines. Slipping their feet back and forth in time to Christmas music, people were trying to be patient as they waited for those cashiers to meet their needs. I couldn't help it. By this time, I was so tired and groggy, forgetful and really not with it, so the best thing my tired self could do was dance. What does that say about me? Do I even need an answer. So instead of resting, I am blogging.
At this moment, I am going to sleep. Good night and sweet dreams. Might I refer you to the Full Monty?
The door of my world opened up today to getting children up and dressed, ready in time to school when they are too tired and cranky to function thanks to Christmas Concert hooliganting last night. The snow was thick on the drive and the roads had sheens of ice as the van rock and rolled its way to school. Thanks to a heads up on bussing delays, I drove home to shovel the drive before rocking and rolling to the other school to drop off child two. Then my morning hit a lull as I scrapped with two friends. Cutting and pasting and recrafting images, and then ranting over the to do lists. By the way...this was not on my list.
So then it was time to get things moving again. I collected the first child and brought her home for lunch. I addressed cards and processed the list of who had moved and who needed cards and still working on who I have missed. If that is you, you need to tell me so I can fix it. Then, I had a couple of project related things to do. So I started by going to the grocery store to stand in line for an hour to get what I needed. One hour in, I had to leave to get the Grade 2 kids from school. The shopping was left in the store as the line was too long.
So, I have my children, but there is still much to do. I drop off one to the childcare as I have to go downtown. I line up at Tim Hortons for the coffee that needs delivery, and then drive to deliver it. The long line of traffic is the next line to navigate and finally the dance studio is in sight. That child goes to dance lessons while I park and go into the post office. You guessed it, I had to line up for another hour just to buy stamps and stop my post from coming during the holidays. I am not the best at getting to the mail box so it is simpler to not have delivery. This is still not my last line . .
I gathered Ailish up and hustled her to the gymnastics line, where we joined other long suffering parents who also line up every 3 months so that their children have the chance to be the next Nadia. Thankfully, Ailish was rescued and I continued to wait. I finished my evening with lining up at Extra Foods (to get stuff) and Walmart (to get stuff) and now the children are in bed and I am still sympathizing with those characters in the Full Monty's EI line.
At Walmart tonight, I finally got the stuff and I think I might nearly be done Christmas shopping. I could answer that in the definitive if I decided to think about it but it is definately too late to think about it. While in line, I caught myself shuffling my feet and tap dancing. People were swaying in the lines. Slipping their feet back and forth in time to Christmas music, people were trying to be patient as they waited for those cashiers to meet their needs. I couldn't help it. By this time, I was so tired and groggy, forgetful and really not with it, so the best thing my tired self could do was dance. What does that say about me? Do I even need an answer. So instead of resting, I am blogging.
At this moment, I am going to sleep. Good night and sweet dreams. Might I refer you to the Full Monty?
Friday, December 3, 2010
Oh dear . . .do you think she knows?
Have you ever signed up for something? That something that you thought you were really good at? Maybe even had a spark of talent for? Every now and then, I take time out to do things that make me feel good and accomplished. The problem is . . . I don't always know what those things are. Then there are those things that you sign up to do so that you can spend quality time with your friends and family. Spa appointments, dance classes, birthday parties, and gym memberships fall into that category. Finally, there are those volunteer commitments and have to sign up for or the good things don't happen sort of things. Those are things like the bake sales, cutting out weird shapes for scrapbooks, gluing progress reports and so on.
Tonight was one of those nights that makes you question the wisdom of your decisions. I went to my evening dance class and participated in all the routines. The more I practised, the worse I got. I was thinking about the previous mistakes while continuing to make more. The dark cloud of the performance looms in about three weeks. There are all those nuances to remember like where your hands go, left and right feet, bent knees, jumping low to the ground (sounds strange but is true), and what moves go with which music. My brain hurts. My body is cold and stiff. The worst part is that I really wanted to do well. Sigh. This is a moment where you know you have bitten off more than you can chew.
So, to console myself, I trundled off to Walmart to hooligant through the nothingness of the aisles and chat with friends. Politely, they shopped and did not refer to the previous episode. Three Christmas presents later and with feet that really were not made for walking, I finally decided that I was too tired. I had been walking into people, or falling into people. I had managed to forget to bring in shopping bags so had to remember to only purchase what I could carry in my hands. The joys of bagfree shopping in our communtiy.
Now, I am tired and sleepy. But due to the complete analysis of the mayhem that I have caused so far tonight, sleep itself seems to be a bit elusive. Let me see....
One two three four, step, open, close, open, guns turn slide, wiggle wiggle, shimmy shimmy shimmy and step sing...(and you wonder why I am so confused). Showtime in three weeks. . .I will have to keep you posted on that one and in the meantime . . .practise. Off I go
Tonight was one of those nights that makes you question the wisdom of your decisions. I went to my evening dance class and participated in all the routines. The more I practised, the worse I got. I was thinking about the previous mistakes while continuing to make more. The dark cloud of the performance looms in about three weeks. There are all those nuances to remember like where your hands go, left and right feet, bent knees, jumping low to the ground (sounds strange but is true), and what moves go with which music. My brain hurts. My body is cold and stiff. The worst part is that I really wanted to do well. Sigh. This is a moment where you know you have bitten off more than you can chew.
So, to console myself, I trundled off to Walmart to hooligant through the nothingness of the aisles and chat with friends. Politely, they shopped and did not refer to the previous episode. Three Christmas presents later and with feet that really were not made for walking, I finally decided that I was too tired. I had been walking into people, or falling into people. I had managed to forget to bring in shopping bags so had to remember to only purchase what I could carry in my hands. The joys of bagfree shopping in our communtiy.
Now, I am tired and sleepy. But due to the complete analysis of the mayhem that I have caused so far tonight, sleep itself seems to be a bit elusive. Let me see....
One two three four, step, open, close, open, guns turn slide, wiggle wiggle, shimmy shimmy shimmy and step sing...(and you wonder why I am so confused). Showtime in three weeks. . .I will have to keep you posted on that one and in the meantime . . .practise. Off I go
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Hooliganting: The Heart of Hooliganting
Hooliganting: The Heart of Hooliganting: "The snow is crunching under the tires, spitting the remnants of salt and sand at the windshield of the car behind. By car, I am referring to..."
The Heart of Hooliganting
The snow is crunching under the tires, spitting the remnants of salt and sand at the windshield of the car behind. By car, I am referring to the buggy whipped trucks, slithering cars and any other passenger toting vehicle that happens to be in the trucks rearview. It is very satisfying to drive the streets and watch the Christmas lights shimmer against the cold and the snow. This is hooliganting.
The first stop is the line up at Tim Hortons. Comparably short for this time of night, we are through just in time for shift change. This means that we have time to scrounge through all those change pockets and figure out how many pennies we can get rid of to lighten the load. Two steeped teas and ginger cookies later, the truck is magically transported to the land of memories and stories. This is the northern version of the fairy tale. There is ranting and venting, laughing and snorting, commentary and opinionating and underneath it all, it is that quiet that transends the moment to the experience of driving. Just driving.
The trees are lit. Snowmobiles are careening around the Syne. The teas are sipped. Movie listings are purused and mulled over. Still the truck drives on, humming on the words both spoken and not. Plans are made and rearranged and made again. The truck skims the ice and keeps going. There are deer nosing the ice and more lights dangling from balconies.
That was definately an hour or so well spent. There is that moment of hooliganting at its most elemental and basic. Time spent with a friend doing something that is simple, that matters. How often have you taken the time to just drive? What could you see? What have you missed?
The first stop is the line up at Tim Hortons. Comparably short for this time of night, we are through just in time for shift change. This means that we have time to scrounge through all those change pockets and figure out how many pennies we can get rid of to lighten the load. Two steeped teas and ginger cookies later, the truck is magically transported to the land of memories and stories. This is the northern version of the fairy tale. There is ranting and venting, laughing and snorting, commentary and opinionating and underneath it all, it is that quiet that transends the moment to the experience of driving. Just driving.
The trees are lit. Snowmobiles are careening around the Syne. The teas are sipped. Movie listings are purused and mulled over. Still the truck drives on, humming on the words both spoken and not. Plans are made and rearranged and made again. The truck skims the ice and keeps going. There are deer nosing the ice and more lights dangling from balconies.
That was definately an hour or so well spent. There is that moment of hooliganting at its most elemental and basic. Time spent with a friend doing something that is simple, that matters. How often have you taken the time to just drive? What could you see? What have you missed?