Tuesday, October 31, 2006
As it is, I have made myself one really cool dress, and I wear it once a year, at Halloween, because really, except maybe for around the house, by myself, there is no other opportunity to wear it and not look silly. Sometimes I wish we still wore dresses like those... until I have to rush around the house cleaning and whatnot... then I think feminism and the outcome of women wearing pants is a positive thing... because those long skirts REALLY get in the way.
Monday, October 30, 2006
|You Are Impressionism|
You think the world is quite beautiful, especially if you look at it in new and interesting ways.
You tend to focus on color and movement in art.
For you, seeing the big picture is much more important than recording every little detail.
You can find inspiration anywhere... especially from nature.
Step two: Climb up on stool to get recipe book, gather ingredients and set oven to 350.
Step three: Get children a snack.
Step four: Start mixing.
Step five: Trip over dog.
Step six: Refrain from cussing.
Step seven: Blow someone's nose.
Step eight: Wash hands.
Step nine: Back to mixing
Step ten: Realize you have forgotten to mix in butter, melt it in microwave to make it easier to add to batter
Step eleven: Wipe someone's nose.
Step twelve: Wash hands again.
Step thirteen: Take butter out of microwave and add to batter.
Step fourteen: Realize that baby is crying. Go and get him.
Step fifteen: Put brownies in oven.
Step sixteen: Take baby away from trash can, pick up trash on floor.
Step seventeen: Nurse baby again.
Step eighteen: Blow someone's nose.
Step nineteen: Wash hands again.
Step twenty: Start getting pies ready.
Step twenty-one: Rush over to pull baby away from plants
Step twenty-two: Pick up dirt off floor, cut circle out of cardboard with hole in centre to go around plant, and keep baby out of dirt.
Step twenty-three: Wash hands.
Step twenty-four: Go back to mixing filling for pie.
Step twenty-five: Realize your brownies are about ready, rush to take them out.
Step twenty-six: Get baby out of trash can and pick up trash again.
Step twenty-seven: blow someone's nose.
Step twenty-eight: Wash hands again.
Step twenty-nine: Finish pie-filling, start rolling crust.
Step thirty: Take baby out of trash can and pick up trash again.
Step thirty-one: Continue rolling out crust and filling in pies.
Step thirty-two: Grab baby again, and finally put trash can behind closed door.
Step thirty-three: Put pies in oven.
Step thirty-four: Pick up baby off of stool where he has climbed up two steps and is now trying to fly like superman.
Step thirty-five: Fold up stool, and put it away like you should have done after you had finished using it.
Step thirty-six: Blow someone's nose.
Step thirty-seven: Wash hands.
Step thirty-eight: Cut up brownies and leave to cool.
Step thirty-nine: Remove baby from leg as you try to move over to the oven to check n progress of pies.
Step fourty: Accidentally trip over baby
Step fourty-one: Pick baby up off of floor and console him.
Step fourty-two: Finally take pies out of oven. Leave out to cool.
Step fourty-three: Put two older children down for much-needed nap, blowing noses, giving syrup, rubbing vapo-rub on them.
Step fourty-four: Welcome two oldest children home from school.
Step fourty-five: Grab baby from bathroom garbage this time.
Step fourty-six: Fix oldest children some special halloween decorated brownies.
Step fourty-seven: Sit down and nurse baby to sleep again.
Step fourty-eight: Pour self an extra-large helping of Tia Maria and milk.
Or rather, in this case, by the example of children...
For about a year now, Dominic, and then Maryssa (and now even Gabriel, somewhat) but especially Dominic, kneel down in front of the tabernacle every Sunday after mass to say a prayer. Sometimes Dominic stays there for a couple of minutes, telling Jesus and Mary that he loves them, and I think, just being with them. Of all my children, Dominic is the one who thinks about God the most. God comes out even in his work at school. Like the list of things he was thankful for last year, and again this year in a project "about me".
Recently, I have noticed adults coming and kneeling down in front of the tabernacle after mass as well, and staying there for a few minutes too. Even I keep thinking I'll have to get to adoration soon...
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I received an e-mail from someone who wanted to do a project on a teacher who had influenced native students. He had chosen John Delaney.
Despite the hardships I suffered going to a practically all-native school, often being the only white kid out of 22-24 students, for whom (until they got older and could think of better ones) the worst insult was "white man", I was privileged to know John Delaney. Below are the questions asked about him and my responses:
What did he teach? I know he taught grade 8, but he also taught art, gym and enrichment classes. I never had him as a regular teacher, but I had him as an art teacher and I was in a couple of enrichment classes as well. I also had him as a gym teacher.
When did he teach? I know he taught a long time, early 70's to late 90's or 2000? Not sure exactly.
Where did he teach? Well, he taught me at Main School and Ministik in Moose Factory,Ontario, in the 80's
How did he teach? It's not so much how he taught as how he treated his students. He really loved kids. He was kind and patient. He always had a good word of encouragement. He made you feel good about yourself. He once said something about having struggled with math when he was a kid and that helped him to teach it better, because he knew how to explain it better, since he'd had a hard time too.
What made him stand out as a positive role model? He had a moral code, and he made the rules clear, this is how you treat people, this is how you respect other people's property, other people's feelings. You put others ahead of yourself, you always strive to be your best... Not only that, but somehow he managed to make this "cool". Noone wanted to be the "bad" guy. He made you WANT to be the best you could be, the nicest you could be, the most respectful you could be. It became very positive peer pressure. Because it wasn't just him who would have been disappointed in you, you'd have looked really bad in front of everyone else too.
What did he do in the community besides teaching? He started up a YMCA group. And he did it all for free. It is the only YMCA I know of that is completely free. Through sports, he taught us about discipline, leadership, endurance and again,... respect, becoming the best we can be.
Why did he want to teach? Oh, I don't know, it must have been a calling. Some people just have to teach, they were born to teach, I think he was one of those people.
John Delaney died in April of 2005, of cancer. He was just over 60. What I remember best about him is his love of art, music and sports. Oh, and Jonathon Livingston Seagull.
Fast forward to high school, I had a couple of other teachers, with whom I had a different type of relationship, in that they were younger, and thus, even though they were still the ones with the authority, they were more like friends.
Mike Wong was never my teacher. Which I always remember with some surprise, because I spent a fair amount of time in his presence. He was involved in a lot of the sports and since I was playing most of the intramural sports, that is where I got to know him. He was also a born-again Christian, which meant a lot of our conversation also dealed with faith issues. Mike Wong had (what seemed to be) a perpetual smile on his face. He seemed to always be in a good mood, and that always had an effect on people. I often ended up in his classroom (typing/computers) before and after classes, just to talk.
Sadly, Mike Wong died pre-maturely, of cancer in the sinuses, leaving his wife with four young children. What I remember best about him is that big smile and his energy.
John MacLean was not someone you noticed right away, except for the fact, perhaps, that he was very BIG. WWF big. (Also except for that one time that he played the bagpipes in full highland regalia, which he never did again... I suppose he got teased by kids who'd never seen anything like that before.) Then you got used to that and forgot about him, until you had him for a teacher. He was my grade eleven English teacher. And for the first time, I actually enjoyed English. Oh, I've always been an avid reader, and I've always liked writing, but I'd never enjoyed many of the assignments I had to accomplish in English classes until then.
Turns out John Maclean was a football player at University, which explains the size of him. He also liked other sports, (is that a recurring theme in the best teachers or what?), and eventually started doing intramural sports in his last year teaching at Northern Lights Secondary. But he also loved litterature, and it is his passion for that, that got me turned on to it too. Heck, I even like grammar now. In fact, I went and took a whole grammar course at university, for no reason at all, but to fill in space and because I liked it. I love learning about how language works. I like litterature too of course, but just words all by themselves are so much fun too.
John Maclean was Catholic, and I often ended up in his classroom, even when I didn't have a course with him, before and after classes, to discuss many subjects. He wasn't the most outgoing and sunny person in the world, but I wasn't the only one visiting him in the morning before classes started. Others found something in him too. He was tough, in a good way.
John Maclean moved back to Nova Scotia to teach, and I've never heard of him since. I don't know if he ever had all seven sons he was planning on having for his football team. I don't know if he still has a little ceramic bulldog named Buster in his collection of souvenirs. I just wish I could let him know that I finally found that man he kept telling me I needed, and that I'm doing all right.
What do I remember best about John Maclean? Him kicking a chair hard enough for it to go halfway across the room, down a couple of steps and out the door of the classroom. Why? Because it got in his way. That, and the bagpipes which I thought were sooooo cool, (think teenager in love with anything scottish) and him consistently nagging me about me needing to find myself a man. (Which I always knew I'd never find up there, and I was right.)
I am currently working on a Caillou pinata for Gabriel's birthday party which will be on Sunday at 2:30 pm.
This is how the last one, for Dominic's party, turned out:
For more info go here.
They use Israeli-Palestinian relations as an example, but since I'd probably be more on the liberal side of that one,... I think I'll stay away from that kind of thing. Apparently you don't have to be a social-conservative, you can be non social-conservative too, and God knows there is a lot of stuff, every day in the papers that is absolutely and without a doubt liberally biased, especially when it comes to abortion. Newspapers take it for granted that everyone (except a fanatic minority) accepts that women should have that choice, and not only that, but any other view on the subject is an endangerment of women's fundamental rights. It's like there IS no other point of view possible. Case closed. Something like rape is wrong. Everyone agrees, even if there are still perpetrators out there. Case closed. So I guess that makes us the perpetrators of injustice now eh?
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Fast forward two hours or so, I am rushing around the house, getting coats on kids, and finding shoes so that we can go and pick up Marc at the bus stop. I open the front door, and there is Toby, sitting on the stoop, staring patiently at the doorway. For some reason, the expression on his face, which resembled something between patronizing patience with some irresponsible younger child and contained exasperation, struck me as really funny, and I just laughed and laughed. If he had been able to roll his eyes, I'm sure he would have, as he walked past the hysterical madwoman and through the open door.
(Said dog is now waiting patiently by the basement window, outside, through which he has percieved me, writing at the computer. I think he's ready to come in again?)
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Kids get hurt all the time. What's a little scrape or a bruise? Come ON! Maybe we should just ditch physical education altogether. I'll bet the health bills for all those out-of-shape kids would be a lot higher than any health bills they might get because of injuries sustained while playing tag. Are these people for real?
I've been hurt more often at sports like soccer, basketball, volleyball, pinball etc... than by playing tag. Oh, wait, I've never been hurt playing tag. At least not enough for it to be memorable. I HAVE however broken phalanges and sprained things in the above sports.
The world just gets weirder and weirder. No wonder so many are homeschooling!
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
North Korea's nuclear test last week showed that policies of isolation and threats of regime change will not prevent the spread of nuclear weapons. We need to act quickly, before the Bush Administration makes the same mistakes in Iran. The UN Security Council is scheduled to discuss sanctions on Iran this week, making it critical to get as many people as possible involved in this campaign over the next few days, while world leaders are debating their options. Click below to send a message to President Bush, calling on the US to enter direct negotiations with Iran:
The last thing the world needs is a global nuclear arms race, so let's seize this moment to show the Bush Administration that the world has a stake in resolving things with Iran peacefully – and will hold him accountable.
Talks between the US and Iran won't guarantee a solution to the nuclear problem, but no talks will guarantee failure. There is no military solution to this issue, and President Bush's aggressive policies have begun to spark a global nuclear arms race, as countries rush to build nuclear weapons. There have been several calls, even from prominent members of Bush's own Republican Party, to change course. Join this rising chorus by clicking below:
The Bush Administration is starting to learn that it ignores global public opinion at its peril. Let's send a strong message to President Bush – forward this email to your friends and family, and encourage them to help prevent the nightmare of a new global nuclear arms race from becoming reality.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
After: The deck is much bigger, beautiful and safe
Unfortunately for Marc, He just smashed his finger this week-end while winterizing the pool. He went to the hospital and the x-ray revealed a shattered bone. There was so much pressure from the blood that rushed to his finger that the blood burst through his skin (tore a hole through it) to get out. He bled a lot. He was using an electric saw to cut a small piece of wood which he was holding and the wood caught in the saw and jerked back three times. His fingers were caught between the wood and the back of the stand for the saw. So, not cut, just jammed. He went back to work today with a big white bandage around his middle finger. He is unlikely to go unnoticed.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Friday, October 06, 2006
This guy walks into a pub/bar and meets up with some friends, who immediately ask him why he has two black eyes.
He explains that his girlfriend walked in on him while he was doing "overtime" at the office.
His friends all laugh and tell him they're in trouble with their girlfriends too and the best thing for a guy in trouble is a Sleeman beer.
Normally, I kind of like the Sleeman commercials, because there's always some humour in them, but this one I don't like at all. Call me a "stickler" but isn't that making light of a pretty serious offence? As a woman, I tend to sympathize more with the cheated on girlfriend than the guy with black eyes. So, we're just more disposable "fun" for them eh? There is no remorse whatsoever, more like a "who cares" attitude, practically promoting infidelity. How inspiring.
- Cool, low-heeled shoes that do not make your feet look like elephant feet.
- Finding these shoes in sizes above size 10
- Tall husbands with broader shoulders than your own (unfortunately, these ironically tend to end up with all the petite girls, leaving us with the medium-sized men, and in desperate search of low-heeled white satin shoes...)
- A size 38+ bra in an A cup
- Shirts that are neither too short in the waist, too short in the chest area, too tight in the shoulders, nor too short in the sleeves. (An empire waist that actually fits under the breasts, not across them)
- Finding gloves that a) will not be too tight; and b) will be long enough that they will last all winter before your fingers start poking holes through the tips of them.
- Pants that fit around the waist without being huge everywhere else (for those of us that have a comparatively wide waist for comparatively narrow hips, in other words, no hour-glass shape!)
Can you relate to any of these? You might just be a stout girl. (See definition of stout girl in the last paragraphs of the previous post) Think of anything else? Let me know.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
The one on the left, obviously, that the woman in the picture is wearing. I received the above flyer yesterday morning, and really liked the coat (for the quality as well as the style) and it being on sale half-price and me having $10.00 off on top of it... I decided to go and check it out. (Since I need a proper winter coat anyway).
I tried the woman's large coat on, which fit, although it was a tad snug (especially with a sweater on underneath to boot), but the sleeves were definitely too short. So I ended up trying on the extra-large coat which fit better, in this colour:
I put it on this morning to drive Gabirel to pre-school, because it was a bit chilly out there, and I realized the sleeves were going about a quarter of the way up my arms, leaving my wrists and then some open to the air. Come winter, that was definitely going to be a problem, I wouldn't be able to do anything that required stretching my arms out in the snow. So I decided to take the coat back and see if the men's coats fit me better.
The men's coats fit me much better. In fact, did you know that I am a size SMALL? Yes, a SIZE SMALL men's. PETIT! PEQUENO! You get the picture. And not only that, the sleeves fit perfectly. I got a man's coat in these colours: (In size S.M.A.L.L.)
Now, the only thing that really bothers me is that I really liked the style and colour of the first coat, even though the cut is basically the same and the style and colours are very similar. The first coat just had that feminine touch that I soooo long for. I love the sporty feminine style. I just can't seem to find any clothes in that style (or any other feminie style) that actually fit ME right.
You know, the whole coat thing and the fact that this is not the first time I have had to dress in men's wear (have to do it for shoes too), doesn't do much to help me feel feminine. I mean I have next to no shape. Hourglass? Definitely not me. I have no more hips than a guy. I need clothes that tend to give the impression of there being a shape that is not there. I need feminine clothes to look feminine, otherwise I just look like a real tomboy. Some women look feminine in anything. Cut my hair short, and put me in a T-shrt and shorts and you can barely tell me apart from the guys. In fact, I have been mistaken for a guy a few times when I had short hair. It did not stay short for very long.
So I need the feminine clothes, but get this,... they don't make feminine clothes to fit ME. They make them for the short, small-boned girls but not for the big, tall girls like me. (And I'm not even that huge, believe me). Tops especially. I hate shopping for tops, they never fit right. In some shops, I can wear medium pants but would have to get an extra, extra large top to have it fit. (These are none-existant)
This is my pet peeve: there are no clothes out there that I like AND that I can wear. I know I could easily pass for a guy, so having to wear men's clothes on top of it is really depressing.
Now what we need to do is start a new clothing category, the opposite of "petite". Say... "grande"? And the clothes in this category would not be1x or 2x or 3x, or any other "plus size", they would be S M and L, only made for women with longer arms and legs, broader shoulders and larger thoracic cages. (As compared to "plus sizes" that are made for women who have slender shoulders, small thoracic cages and short limbs but who have a few pounds to loose. There IS a difference, however slight.)
I know some stores do have tall sizes, but they are few and far between and even then, there isn't that great of a choice.
I hereby officially open the club Stout Girls; "Strong enough to be a man, yet designed to be a woman". The club that promotes and defends the right of all big tall women to have access to nice feminine clothes.
Monday, October 02, 2006
I also liked the perspective of this one : Star Trek is Pro-Life on Back off Government!.
There are a lot of other good posts out there, I haven't even read them all myself, so go check them out here : The Big Blue Wave Pro-Life BlogBurst
Sunday, October 01, 2006
I have always been pro-life. Of course I was brought up pro-life, but also it just makes sense. Abortion does not. So when I got pregnant out of wedlock, I had two options:
1.) Face up to the fact and admit that I had done something wrong and now there was this new person to take care of. Tell everyone and face the disappointment of my parents.
2.) Suddenly move to a different city where I knew nobody, to continue my studies there, have the baby there, and give it up for adoption. Noone would have to know.
There was no other option. Abortion didn't even figure.
I couldn't give up my baby, so I chose option number one. And I have never, ever regretted that. Also, I had so much help from so many people along the way that I would never had experienced had this never happened. Where there is sin, grace abounds. This I learned first-hand.
What is it all about? It's about not taking responsibility for your actions. It's about sterilizing sex and making it all about what I can get out of it and nothing about what I can give in it. It's about taking the easy way out.
What hero takes the easy way out? What an inspiring movie that would make, a hero who didn't do what was right no matter how hard it was. A hero who never sacrificed anything for a greater good. Abortion assumes that we are not capable of being heros, that we are not able to take responsibility for our actions, that we are not able to do what is right no matter how hard it might be. It makes us out to be really incapable people. That is a lie.
Just to prove that you don't need to be religious to be pro-life, here is a pro-life atheist site. These people, not believing in eternal life of course, are horrified at the thought that these babies are being robbed of their only chance to BE.
And just so you know, you can be feminist and pro-life too, like this site proves, who are basically of the opinion that if a woman feels that she has no choice but to abort, it is because we, as a society have not yet done enough for women and their children.
There are three levels of demonic influence on men: (1) temptation, (2) oppression, and (3) possession. Temptation comes to everyone. Oppression, in the form of great sorrow of spirit or great external tragedies, happens to many. Possesion is rare and happens only to those who are asking for trouble by violating God's essential safety precautions such as his severe prohibition against the occult: "There shall not be found among you any one who burns his son or daughter as an offering, any one who practices divination, a soothsayer, or an augur, or a sorcerer, or a charmer, or a medium, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord" (Dt 18:11-12). The same evil spirits who inspire human sacrifice inspire these other activities. Serious fortune-telling, seances, or ouija boards are linked to the same demonic causes as sacrificingone's children. All Hollywood hype aside, the real demon possession behind The Exorcist film began with playing a ouija board. That is asking for trouble in a big way, freely opening the door of your soul to-you know not what. That's the only way any spirit, evil or good, can enter your soul: by your free choice.
When Israel entered the Promised Land, the Cannanites were worshipping demon spirits: Astarte (Ashtaroth) and Moloch. The valley of Gehenna, or Ge Hinom, outside Jerusalem, was the place of human sacrifice of children to these demons. The Jews thought this place so evil that they would not live there but only burned their garbage there, day and night. They didn't have matches, so the fire had to be kept lit and never be allowed to die out. This was the image Jesus used for hell: Gehenna.
Spirits never die. Moloch still demands human sacrifice, four thousand every day in America alone. The demon spirit behind the smoke that rose from Ge Hinom is quite possibly the same spirit behind the smoke that rises from the chimneys of abortion mills today and the smoke that rose from the chimneys of Auschwitz fifty years ago and from the pyramids of Mexico City almost five hundred years ago.
Just had to share this too:
Question 23: If angels have no bodies, how can we ever see them?
Angels sometimes "assume" bodies, as we would put on a costume or hire a tuxedo or a limo.I had to smile at that, assuming that the chances were great that I'd ever actually see an angel (in this life) and actually know it.
At other times angels influence our imagination from within, like hypnosis or mental telepathy. Then it looks as if there is a body there but there isn't. In this case a camera would not record anything. It would in the first case, if they "assumed" bodies.
If you are ever visited by an angel and wonder whether it is objective or subjective, without or within, here is how to tell. Angels respect hospitality, so offer the angel some food. ...
Miss Tidwell, an American artist, was inspired to paint this beautiful depiction of our Blessed Mother grieving over the millions of aborted babies. Normally, a picture like this would take her months to finish. She completed this one in two hours.
The stars around Mary's head represent the crown of the Woman of the Apocalypse (Revelation 12:1): 'A great portent appeared in heaven, a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars.' The large star is the "Star of Bethlehem". The rose colored ball in the lower left corner symbolizes the earth in turmoil. The glow of Mary's heart is an evident sign of her tremendous love for all her children, especially the most helpless of all.
The incessant weeping over this horrendous evil has blackened her lovely eyes . The baby's Guardian Angel seems to be both saddened over the death of his charge and grateful for the Blessed Mother's care and concern.
The baby bears the five wounds of our Precious Saviour. Both baby and Angel are weeping and the baby's hands are clasped in prayer.
The reason the Blessed Mother's hand and fingernails are dirty is that she has to scoop and dig out these precious babies from trash bins, garbage dumps, and as in Wichita, Kansas, from a pile ready to be burned with dead animals at their dog pound.
MARY, MOTHER OF ALL THE LIVING, PRAY FOR US