Winter has arrived!

Our corner of Canada is much scorned by the rest of the country when we fuss about snow. It comes infrequently and is usually gone in a day or less. However, we've been in a "deep freeze", or perhaps just a cooler for the past week or so. Some snow fell late Friday, followed by punishing winds that battered against the house and caused multiple power outages, uprooted trees and debris to fly everywhere. 

 On Sunday afternoon the snow began again, this time in earnest. Tim and I went for a long walk. It was magical. Fat snowflakes landed on our faces and we turned our open mouths upwards to catch them, bits of cold on our tongues. Snow fell until around 9 or 10 pm. This morning is white and beautiful - and schools are cancelled. More snow is falling. I'm looking forward to taking a walk on my own later this morning. 

Today is this fellow's 5th birthday. He had his friend party last weekend, followed by a little family party here on Sunday. His birthday is a reminder to me of how God redeems days and memories.
Twenty-five years ago, on this day, this little guy's father was just 10 years old, living in a small town on the edge of the Amazon jungle. He was struck by a hit and run driver and suffered severe head trauma. We were flown to the capital city for medical treatment. He was in a coma for 4 days. His recovery took years, and we are thankful for his agile mind and body now. But over the years, I always mourned a little on February 11th. Perhaps it was a loss of innocence for me, and some grieving in spite of the good outcome.

However, all that grief and sorrow was taken away when our boy's son was born exactly 20 years later. Now there is just joy and thankfulness. Thanks be to God. 

Tulips are brightening the days. These were last week's and I don't have any in the house just now and won't be making any trips to the store to get them in the snow.

I recently finished the binding on this simple quilt. The scalloped edge meant bias binding and I cut miles of it. Enough to do another quilt, I think. I took it out into the snow on Friday for a photo shoot. It was very cooperative.

The snowdrops are currently completed covered in a blanket of snow, so I'm glad I took this photo on Friday. The blooms are almost at their end.

On this snow day, after my walk, I plan on watching Pride and Prejudice while I sew. There will be copious amounts of hot tea, and a lot of gazing out the window, too. 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. 

Looking Back, Looking Ahead

On Instagram, I've seen #bestnine posts where posters feature a collection of their most popular posts for the year. Instead, I chose one photo from each month and made a #favouritetwelve of my own. It was hard to choose - do I feature travel locations, local events, garden, food, flowers, or what? I guess I'm a rather scattered blogger, with little theme here. In the end, I restricted myself to photos taken here at home or in our garden. 

Like most years, 2018 has had its ups and downs. Mostly ups, with lots of level plateaus. I'm thankful for God's faithfulness and presence in my life. I don't write much about my faith, but it is very precious to me. Believing is not always easy, as some might assume. I've learned to embrace uncertainty in this life, thinking deeply about what I know to be true, and about the many questions I have about life and God. I've learned that I don't need to know everything or to have all the answers, and my faith continues to grow and evolve. I choose faith over unbelief, and hope over despair. I believe in a God who loves me immensely, and who is wise and kind and just. He's also unfathomable. 

And so we come to the end of one year and the beginning of another. Who knows what 2019 will bring? We step through the doorway into days of possibility. 

Thank you for reading my words over the past year, and for your many encouraging comments. I treasure them all. (Other than the spam that sneaks through) 

I wish you a most Happy New Year, filled with friends and family to love and laugh with in the good times and to ache and cry with in the not-so-good times. I wish you bravery to dream and to make dreams come true. I wish you time to be creative, time to restore yourself, and time in nature. 

Happy 2019! 

On a Quiet Evening

My bag had to be at school this morning, along with my sleeping bag, so that the vans could be packed. We will be driving, in 4 vehicles - 3 large vans and a small bus - for three long days to Mexico. I have a little tote bag and my pillow to take tomorrow. 

As part of the team of chaperones and drivers for this trip, I had to get my commercial driving licence. That meant a computer knowledge test (which I failed the first time because I didn't study enough about engines and torque and shifting), plus a driving test that included a vehicle inspection. That I did pass. Then, I needed a medical sign-off from my doctor assuring the licensing office that I was of sound mind and body. Also passed.

In a recent conversation with a friend, (actually, with more than one friend), she expressed both admiration and not a little horror that I would do such this - both go to Mexico and get my licence. To summarize what my friends said: "I've decided I'm too old to do things that are out of my comfort zone." 

My response is that I never want to feel so old that I'm not going to challenge myself. I am cognizant of my age and I won't be attempting foolish behaviour, such as bungee-jumping, but I'm not willing to stagnate. The students will have a day at Six Flags on the way home, but I won't be riding any roller coasters, thank you very much. 

I don't consider myself particularly adventuresome, and I often have to push through fear and worry to do the things I do. I pray. I trust God. I ask for strength to do whatever it is I need to do. 

On this quiet evening at home, I'm pondering a lot of things: a friend from my high school days is dying, and an uncle is also declining. Life is indeed uncertain, and all too short. Even as I write these words, I push away fear and uncertainty, entrusting my days and this trip to God's hands.

How do you feel about new experiences? Do you find that you sometimes have to acknowledge fear and then decide to not let it stop you?

Several weeks ago I mentioned a sewing challenge - 6 items in 6 weeks. I did finish. Tim took photos of me on Sunday afternoon when the sun shone beautifully warm. Yellow is out of my comfort zone, but I made the vest reversible in case I wanted to push myself a little. 

The family who live nearby came over on Sunday afternoon for a casual dinner. I've been wanting to try Brenda's Sour Cream Lemon Pie ever since seeing it on her blog. It was delicious and a big hit. Those pretty blue napkins are from my cousin from Wales who was here on a short visit and stopped in for breakfast on Saturday morning. They are from the Burleigh Pottery makers in England. 

The weekend's warmth and sunshine has dissolved into cooler temperatures and drizzly rain. I'll be at the school very early tomorrow morning as we plan to catch the first ferry off the island. The house is clean, there are some meals ready for Tim, and there's nothing left to do. 

I may not be able to blog much (or at all), but I'll look forward to reading your thoughts on my return.  

No Pretty Pictures

Blogging experts say to never put up a post without a photo. Well, I'm doing just that. I'd like, instead, to tell you a little story. It's a story that hasn't ended yet, but a brand new chapter has begun. I can't give you names and too many details in order to protect the characters, but this is a true story. 

A Canadian archaeologist and her husband spent quite a lot of time on digs in Syria. While there, they built relationships with the local people. Hardworking, honest people who wanted only to make a decent living for their families, to sit around a table with friends, to educate their children, to laugh and eat and drink. In peace. 

Then came war. A war that ripped the fabric of Syrian life apart. Safety and security disappeared. There were no more archaeological digs. Food became scarce, safety illusory. Horror grew.

The Canadian couple began the refugee process for this family of several grown siblings and their dependents. One by one the families are coming to Canada. To relief from war, from fear of bombings and brutality.

In November I wrote a post about helping our daughter and son-in-law finish a basement suite. 

I'm so pleased that today, in that tiny two-bedroom suite, lives a beautiful little family. A father, a mother, and two small, very small, children. They have peace. They are surely homesick for what they once knew. They feel alien. They need to learn English and will begin classes in a few weeks. 

When it snowed, the father took his little daughter outdoors and she was enchanted, playing and laughing as snowflakes fell. 

Our children came home from work one day this past week to find that their back yard, once full of lumps and potholes, had been dug and smoothed, and is ready for grass seed. The young father and his brother, also newly arrived to Canada, want to work. They need something to do. And so they did this. 

Our daughter visits the young mother and her children; she goes down for tea and they communicate in broken English, lots of sign language, and plenty of smiles. 

I am proud, oh so proud, of our children, all of them. Our other children have donated generously to help refugees. This pair has given time and space and money to help provide a refuge for refugees.

During the second World War, there are many stories of Christians helping Jews. But there are also stories of Muslims hiding Jews. 

This is not a political post. This is a post about people, real people who are grateful, so very grateful, for a chance to build a new life with their children. 

"I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me." Matthew 25:35

Gifts I Cannot Give

Gifts are bought or made. I'm ready to wrap them and place them under the tree. Yet. I find myself wandering the aisles. Searching. I pick up a pretty bauble. Set it down. Choose a book. Put it back. Frustration sets in. I cannot find what I want. 

Almost to the point of tears, I realize that what I'm looking for are gifts I cannot give. 

There is much sadness in my world. Oh, there is also joy in abundance, but today the sadness overwhelms me. 

For one who has suffered multiple and deep loss this year, I want to wrap up hope fulfilled in the prettiest box under the tree.

For loved ones suffering physical ills I'd like to hand the gift of freedom from pain. Healing.

To another who wrestles with doubt and fear I'd give simple trust and faith.

There are those who need a bow-tied package of reconciliation, of peace.  

And love. I want everyone to know they are loved, deeply. The presents I wrap and place under the tree are but a token of love. Yet my love cannot give the gifts I want most to give.

I head homeward again, having purchased nothing. The words of the song come to me, 

O Little town of Bethlehem

How still we see thee lie,

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep

The silent stars go by

Yet in thy dark streets shineth

The everlasting Light

The hopes and fears of all the years

Are met in thee tonight.

The words "the hopes and fears of all the years" resonate deeply. For the hopes and fears of frail humanity God sent the ultimate gift, the Christ child. Gifts of hope, joy, love and peace. Gifts I long for those I love and the world beyond. God with us. In the midst of the pain, the despair, the doubt and fear. Immanuel. God with me. God with you. 

  

All is Calm (mostly)

All is bright. While dusting and vacuuming this morning, I noticed the light casting strong shadows across the rooms. From darkness to light - that's what Christmas is all about. Welcome, Jesus, Light of the World.
 

This year the stockings are hung with care - on the stair case! Eleven of them are a graphic illustration of how our family is expanding. 
 

Gifts are piling up under the tree, to be opened on Boxing Day (we alternate Christmases with in-laws), but we'll have a short get together this evening after church. And so it's back to the kitchen where things are not calm just now with lists of things to make. 

Wishing you the most merry of Christmases - may your season be bright!

What a Weekend!

When the family gets together we make the most of our time together. Saturday morning we gathered for a brunch at Cristal and Gerry's home. The dahlias were beautiful in the morning light.

Three September birthdays (son-in-law Gerry, daughter Ashley and son Travis) celebrated with one party. Lots of laughter and talking. I think we get louder as the hours pass.
 

Early last spring Katie's mother called her up. "You have to come over and see this tea set at the garage sale across the street." 
Katie realized it was Russian porcelain - collected by Ashley. This tea set for 6 includes cups, saucers, dessert plates, tea pot, cream, sugar and fruit bowl. It has never been used and the seller was asking $15.00 for the box. Katie asked her if she knew what she was selling. 
"Oh yes, but I've never used it and just want to get rid of it."

Katie's been saving it for Ashley's birthday and we could all hardly wait to see her open the gift. She was as thrilled as we had anticipated.
 

Auntie Ashley reading to her "girlies." 
 

On Sunday afternoon we celebrated Felix with a baby dedication/baptism done here at our home. Felix' maternal grandfather is a pastor and did a beautiful job of reminding us all of God's grace. My parents came over from the mainland and my father (Felix' great-grandfather) read Scripture. Here are Tim and I with the little man.
 

And here he is, smiley and dapper in his shirt and tie. He doesn't sleep much and his parents are very tired, but he's a joy to all of us.

I made this cake for the birthday party - a Pumpkin Cheesecake with Caramel Sauce, Whipped Cream and Sugared Pecans. It seemed to pass muster. I used the recipe in the link for the cheesecake, but did a different crust and my own caramel sauce recipe. Extra sauce was served on the side.

Everything is mostly cleaned up. Today I'm canning peaches and continuing some garden clean up. As my hands work I'll be mulling over all the weekend events. Do you relive happy moments in the same way?

This Beautiful Broken World

A walk over the weekend took us by the naturalized front garden on Lily Street. Currently blooming among ever lengthening grasses are native Camas Lilies. The tubers of these plants were a staple food for the First Nations People who once lived here. There are also white Camas Lilies, but those are poisonous. Only the blue ones are safe to eat, thus, harvesting must take place when the plant is in bloom.
 

Nana pushed the stroller, but Little Miss S preferred to walk. We kept her overnight while her parents enjoyed an anniversary getaway. All went well although after her bath she wanted to "go downstairs, see Mommy." At nearly 2 she hasn't spent much time away from her parents.
 

How beautiful the bluebells are in the woods, here framed in front of a mossy tree. The world is so full of beauty, yet brokenness is everywhere.

Girls are captured and held as trade goods in Nigeria. A Nigerian student at our local university spoke on the radio this afternoon, expressing sorrow not only for these girls, but for all who live in that country under fear of such things happening.

Dear friends of ours lost their beloved 27-year-old daughter to cancer this week. The next day, their older daughter gave birth to a lovely baby girl. How does one come to grips with such onslaughts of sorrow and joy? Faith gives hope for the future, but the anguish of loss now must still be born.

Buttercups bloom in my lawn. I am drawn back into the past to my grandparents' small farm in the Fraser Valley where, in the summer, I gathered fistfuls of these sunny flowers, wanting to bring their brightness indoors. They soon wilted and lay limp in the glass my grandmother provided.

Life goes on in the midst of brokenness, and it is beautiful. Finding the beauty and letting it seep into my soul while acknowledging the pain of the world seems paradoxical. Yet, I believe that one day, all things will be made right, and so, I'll ache and weep with those who weep and still look for beauty in each day.

A Divine Moment

In my post on Saturday, I briefly mentioned a storm that caused ferry cancellations. What I didn't tell you is what happened before we arrived at the ferry terminal.

The rain was pelting down and the wipers flapped back and forth furiously trying to keep up. We were on a divided highway, in the left lane, with not too much traffic. A good distance between cars. The car in the right lane, just ahead of us, suddenly went through a puddle and threw up a huge wall of water onto our windshield. 

Instant blindness. We could not see anything but the water on the window. There we were, hurtling down the highway without a clue of what was in front of us. Driving blind. In those few seconds, I imagined of the concrete barrier on our left and the lane of cars on our right. I waited for a collision. Was this to be our end? There wasn't much fear. Both of us were utterly silent, waiting. I didn't think of my family, or of my life. All I did was wait. I don't think I even breathed. Those seconds felt like an eternity.

Then the water cleared. We had drifted slightly over the line into the right lane, but no cars were there. Divine protection. I think so. As I exhaled, the words came, "God, thank you, thank you." And then the shaking terror of "what might have been," followed by tears of relief/shock, which come even now as I write this.

This incident has played over and over in my mind since then. I am thankful to God for life and protection. 

 

Just a Note

I'm away from home for a few days, with limited internet access so no photos. I hope to get back to posting next week. In the meantime, thanks for the comments on my previous post.

We're visiting friends who live in Baja California, Mexico. They are from our church community and are here to work with others who want to help pull people from lives of poverty and despair. We've had a full couple of days driving around bumpy, muddy roads seeing some amazing stories of people who care for others in practical ways, such as building houses, providing rehab for drug and alcohol addictions, breakfast clubs for children, and a transition home for women.. My heart is full. My back is sore. Lots to think about.

Today we walked on the beach - lovely sand beneath my bare feet. How I love it. The waves are amazing, unceasing, powerful, crashing incessantly upon the shore. Reminds me of God's love.

Looking forward to reading and commenting on your blogs soon.

Art Gallery Visit

A dear friend of our youngest daughter invited my eldest daughter and me to the art gallery. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I've never been to our local art gallery. Now that's been remedied. 

The collection of pottery from the 1970s and 80s made me smile. This was the kind of thing popular when we were married. Now it's collectable and valued enough to be shown in art galleries. I was struck by how some of the designs, notably that of the black and white plate, look up-to-date for this decade as well. As my daughter said, "it looks like something you'd see at Ikea." 

 

It was Family Day at the gallery. The parking lot was full to overflowing and in various rooms throughout the gallery children sat at tables creating art. In other spaces they played with lights, creating shadows on the wall, as shown above. While taking my photos (once again with my phone), I also created some shadow art - did you notice it there on the black and white plate in the mosaic?
 

Emily Carr is a famous Canadian artist from Victoria. I grew up in the interior of our province and when I first saw her paintings of coastal forests, they were incomprehensible. It was only when we moved to the area that her work began to mean something more than brushstrokes on canvas or paper. I felt the same way when I went to Provence and saw those twisted cypress trees that Van Gogh loved to paint. 

Emily Carr loved the woods, as do I. She wrote, "Go out there into the glory of the woods. See God in every particle of them expressing glory and strength and power, tenderness and protection." 

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary of the Little Red House.

Roses in December

"God gave us memory so that we may have

roses in December"

James Matthew Barrie

 

Just before Christmas, I arrived home one afternoon as the sun slanted low on the horizon, illuminating this indomitable rose. I rushed indoors, dropped my purse and bags, grabbed my camera and took this photo before the last light slipped away. 

Memory is a gift. It's an amazing bit of God's creative genius that everything we see, do, hear, smell, taste, feel and think is stored away inside our brain. Retrieval of all that information is perhaps not as reliable as we would like, but still, with little effort, we can remember both the good, the not-so-good, and the terrible, of the past. Some memories we would rather not have, but there they are, seared forever in the mind. Others we wish we could remember more clearly, wanting to hold tightly to each minute detail. Memory is a fickle thing, often untrustworthy because of its utter subjectivity. Each of us remembers an event differently. Just ask your siblings about certain events of childhood.

As 2012 draws to a close, many of us sift through our collection of memories, holding this one and that one up to the light, smiling a little, shedding a tear, nodding, and sighing, as a myriad of emotions sweeps over us. Marking time by memory, we remember past joys and past sorrows. Today, I'm casting my mind back over the past 365 days, but once that's done, there's a wonderful new year ahead, full of potential and unknown opportunity. 

 

Yesterday morning we left the house early to take our daughter and son-in-law to catch the 9 am ferry back to Vancouver. Once again, the light caught my attention. On the way back into town, we stopped in Sidney and took a very short walk along the waterfront, out onto the pier and back. I didn't have my Nikon with me, but snapped these photos with my I-Phone. 
 

 

A new day and a new year dawn. Behind the clouds shines the light. As I move into 2013, which will surely hold its full allotment of both joy and sorrow, my prayer is that I will remember that the One who is the Light of the World is always with me. I pray the same for each of you, my readers. I want to embrace 2013 with arms flung wide in welcome. A year of abundant life awaits.

There was a Party!

 A simple table setting. I love that Anna Maria Horner fabric, don't you? So festive. The tutorial for that very simple tablerunner is my most clicked on post. I think that's because it somehow got included on TipNut. You can find the tutorial over in my sidebar. 

We gathered to celebrate three September birthdays, a son, a son-in-law, and a daughter, each one beloved.

Little Misses A and S lounged on the carpet. I'm having a hard time capturing photos of the two of them together. Little Miss A is a whirling dervish of activity and I suspect Little Miss S is not far behind her. 

Dinner. Gazpacho as a starter, made by Owen, who learned to like the dish in Spain. Then sliders - which is a new name for mini-burgers. Chicken, Beef and Salmon with an assortment of toppings to choose from. Greek salad made by Cristal, along with Salsa Cruda and tortilla chips. The meal ended with an ice cream cake made by Katie and a joint candle blowing session. Casual. Fun. Delicious.

I've been cleaning some of the hidden places in my house - tangles of ribbons, rows of jars, pantry shelves, and kitchen cupboards need attention. It feels good to get these things done. 

Mindless tasks such as these provide opportunity for my thoughts to wander. And I think about the words I say, especially to those I love. The book of James, in the Bible talks about the tongue being as uncontrollable as a fire. And while I believe in forgiveness, both divine and human, I have to live with the truth that words, once spoken, cannot be retracted. And words can cause so much hurt. So while I'm cleaning my house I also need to deal with thoughts and words. That's much more difficult.

Aren't these rudbeckia pretty? I'm not a fan of much orange, but come autumn, I'm happy to see these cheerful flowers glowing in the sunlight.

Goodness. What a post. From party to cleaning to flowers. Hope your Friday is full of good things.