I think I understand

why the pioneers

kept putting one foot in front of the other

for so many hundreds of miles

in spite of so many miseries.

I think, maybe,

they didn't know

what else to do.

Nobody Pee

• My office floor is empty
• My desk is cleared off
• The car is cleaned out
• The lawn is mowed
• The bottom of the stairwell is painted
• The bathrooms are all clean
• The garbages are emptied
• The pool is winterized
• The dining room is tidy
• The TV room is tidy
• The Primary invitations are made
• I take bread to Sister Doerksen
• I call the people I visit teach
• The windows are all clean
• All of the miscellaneous baskets in my house are emptied

I'm getting happier and happier. 

Just, please, no one use the bathrooms
until the rest of my list is finished.

I'll Be Happy When...

• My office floor is empty

• My desk is cleared off

• The car is cleaned out

• The lawn is mowed

• The bottom of the stairwell is painted

• The bathrooms are all clean

• The garbages are emptied

• The pool is winterized

• The dining room is tidy

• The TV room is tidy

• The Primary invitations are made

• I take bread to Sister Doerksen

• I call the people I visit teach

• The windows are all clean

• All of the miscellaneous baskets in my house are emptied


I know I'll be happy then.  I just know it.

OK, Jodi, Merinda, Mom, and Shelley,

You can read my thoughts again

If you promise not to expect enlightenment
or insight,
or optimism,
or humour,
or consistency,
or everything in the form of a question.

OK?  Ok. 

Let this post serve as a reminder to me

to never have an opinion. Or at least not think I ever know what someone else could or should do.

I was a newly wed. I had money for cute haircuts. I was working for way more money than I needed, and considering other jobs with much lower salaries just for the potential enjoyment of them.

I stood in the doorway of a mid-life accountant, with a couple of teenagers at home, a too-large mortgage + reno payment to make, and a straggly no-style haircut adorning her worn out face. She told me of the great retirement package that kept her in a job she disliked. She told me of how it was too late to make a career change, or even a job change. She described trapped, stuck, discouraged feelings. She sounded hopeless.

I cheerfully explained to her how it was never too late to change where we are. I encouraged her to leave her dissatisfying job behind and strike out into something she would enjoy (I didn't bother with the arithmetic that would leave her without mortgage payment every month.) I threw together trite phrases about worlds and oysters and admonished her to live the Nike slogan.

As I walked away, I left very saddened for her limiting mental state that kept her caged in an unhappy life, and grateful for my much better way of viewing the world full of endless potential for me to be successful on every path.

Now, as I get closer and closer to mid-life land, with a too-large mortgage payment, and a no-style haircut, I'm sorry I ever opened my naive know-it-all mouth. I get it now. And I would gratefully trade my life of exciting potential success (rife with business loans that can use the word "million" in them) for a boring, trapped, great-retirement package job.

But our decisions have a way of putting us on a path that goes only forward, even if it's off a cliff. Backing up is great in theory but doesn't always work in reality.

Loveit, I'm sorry I ever gave you useless, demeaning counsel. I hope you've gone on to a comfortable retirement full of grandkids and dandelion bouquets and it is all the sweeter for the thorny path that led you there.

"You Could Keep A Kosher Kitchen,"

Noa said, "because you have two sinks." She is my lovely Jewish friend from Israel. She is not orthodox, but just Jewish "because I'm Jewish."

Her sister, on the other hand, lives a completely orthodox Jewish life, complete with two sinks and two sets of dishes. Her sister doesn't accidentally let her skin brush against her husband's as they pass in the hallway during her unclean time. Her sister has kept having children until she finally had a girl (child number 7) because she must have both sons and daughters unless specifically given permission by the Rabbi not to.

I could listen to Noa describe her sister's life endlessly. Noa always describes her with love and a shrug of the shoulders. I always listen torn between completely relating to the sister's way of life that seems so extreme to others and feeling that a lot of the steps (or limiting them on the Sabbath) are completely ridiculous.

And as I scrubbed my second little sink today that would allow me to live an orthodox and Kosher life, I wondered what practices I may have adopted in an effort to follow the Saviour that might be completely ridiculous too.

I Think It's Working

Chas's daily prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father,

Please make Mark grow up really fast so that we can do cool boy stuff and he can sleep in my room soon. Bless him not to be a baby anymore. Make him a big boy quick, please.

Amen

I think it's working. Darn it.

Chas, stop praying, OK?


(Chas and Mark having a sword fight.)