He that’s secure is not safe. – Benjamin Franklin
Freedom lies in being bold. – Robert Frost
It always begins with such hope, doesn’t it?
We breathe the faint scent of maple and cinnamon, sense the flint of the chilling air as we drive to work and school, pause for a pumpkin-flavored coffee or treat, wrap ourselves in warm scarves and cozy pea coats, scuff our boots against the leaves littering the sidewalks, and say,
This year I will …
“Contemporary middle-class women seem prone to feelings of inadequacy. We worry that we do not measure up to some undefined level, some mythical idealized female standard. When we see some women juggling with apparent ease, we suspect that we are grossly inadequate for our own obvious struggles.” – Faye J. Crosby
“Increment: something added or gained; addition; increase; profit; gain; the act or process of increasing; one of a series of regular additions; growth.” – Dictionary.com
If any of you have been looking for me, I’ve moved to Home Depot.
Such lovely people at Home Depot. Such kind souls in their orange aprons. This is what you need, right here, and Make sure you don’t forget to do this.
My house – nay, my marriage – is forever indebted to you, Home Depot.
Only the weak are cruel. Gentleness can only be expected from the strong. – Leo Buscaglia
He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do – the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, ‘I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come.'” – Marcus Zusak
Shall we accept good from Him and not trouble? – Job
It has been a week of tears.
Not all tears are bad.
Wednesday’s tears were beautiful. The girls happily ensconced in their dance teachers’ capable hands, I enjoyed a built-in pause in the middle of my day at Tim Horton’s, sipping steeped tea with one of those people who gets me better than most – someone I feel just as comfortable crying with as laughing.
And we laughed.
Then we cried.
How did the world got so much darker than it used to be?
On Janus, there is no reason to speak. Tom can go for months and not hear his own voice. He knows some keepers who make a point of singing, just like turning over an engine to make sure it still works. But Tom finds freedom in the silence. He listens to the wind. He observes the tiny details of life on the island. – M.L. Stedman, ‘The Light Between Oceans.’
I know. I’m behind on blogging.
I could give a variety of excuses:
1. Our winter homeschool activity schedule. The girls love gymnastics, but it may have been the thing that tipped me from happy homeschooling mama to off-kilter, crazy lady. Considering the encouragement I receive from steady, faithful, fellow homeschooling mamas while we watch our children learn to tumble, though, I’ll be sad to see these ten weeks be over.
There’s a light in the darkness, though the night is black as my skin; there’s a light burning bright, showing me the way, but I know where I’ve been – Hairspray
Nine days ago, I sat in a crowded oncology office,
The patient in front of me took longer than usual. He was young, tired, gray.
I knew that look.
Do I look sick? I said to David.
I messaged a friend who was also waiting. Waiting for specialist results. Waiting for answers. Waiting to know if there was a big reason why all these little things wouldn’t seem to go away.
They’d not heard anything yet.
An hour later, the doctor called for me. Here we go, I thought.
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing. – Helen Keller
Some days, I just don’t know what I’d do without my friends.
Well, maybe I do. Maybe I don’t want to think about it. Maybe I don’t want you guys to know that. Maybe there’s a tiny part of us that is unfit for any other human to know, see, or understand,
even those we trust the most.
I firmly believe in the power of community.
Nothing hard is conquered in isolation. Nothing painful is endured so well as within a safe community.
But even the safest community can be – at times – dangerous.
Last weekend a friend told me about some people she knew who took two years off their North American dream and worked in Saudi Arabia.
They came home and retired on the savings.
I love British Columbia. I love Vancouver. I even love (most of) Vancouver’s suburbs. But it is insanely expensive to live here. The ability to do what these people did – to live with little to no financial stress – is wildly appealing.
Except I wouldn’t do so well in Saudi Arabia.
Art begins with resistance – at the point where the resistance is overcome. No human masterpiece has ever been created without great labor. – Andre Gide
Confession: It is 3 pm and I’ve opened a bottle of wine.
I’m not a big drinker, for obvious reasons. I’m a nurse, I like my liver, and that liver is already working overtime to deal with Sprycel.
You know, the drug that’s saving my life.
But, occasionally, I have a glass of wine. Red, white, I’ll even have a – decent – glass of rose. Just one. With friends. On a Friday. To beef about an erhm, interesting week.
My feet are wet. My eyes are propped open with toothpicks. My fingers are freezing.
I am trying to bring said fingers back to life by typing.
(So far, I’ve had to rewrite these 150 words three times, so I’m not sure it’s working.)
I am tired.
No. Tired is inadequate; exhausted is overused.
Perhaps spent is more appropriate.
Those who know us know our lives are rather… erhm, full. Some seasons, full is oppressive; others, it’s beautiful – satisfying, even.
Last year we lived the first; this year we’ve seen glimpses of the second.
The difference? What we’ve chosen as our… fillers.
Seven years ago this month, I was counting down the weeks till Noelle’s birth, anxious to be delivered of the extra weight, anxious to get my body back.
I was tired of sharing my heart, my blood, my kidneys, my uterus. I was tired of being host to an ever-growing parasite. I wanted my parts back. I wanted to support my own life functions, and not anyone else’s.
I know. The naivete is crushingly hilarious.
The love of money is the root of all evil; the lack of money is the root of all evil. – Robert Kiyosaki
If a person gets his attitude towards money straight, it will help straighten out almost every other area in his life. – Billy Graham
The last six weeks have been a blur of sun and travel; biking, flying, and driving; food, games, movies, and books.
Yes, you know me. There was a lot of books.
I left with four Kindle reads and two hardcovers, but when I arrived at our home-away-from-home, I also wandered to their lobby’s lending library. Always curious to see what others choose to buy then share with others, my eyes landed on a black-lettered green paperback: Moneyball.
From the first pages, Michael Lewis swept me back to adolescence, where September meant less about going back to school and more about the World Series. With each chapter, I returned to the smell of my Grannie’s kitchen and taste of my mom’s apple pie. I went back to the day I paced the front bedroom of my grandparents’ cozy old house, unable to watch as Dave Winfield tried to defy the curse of a 2-2-2 count.