Turning Back the Hands of Time

If I could turn back the hands of time, I’d go back to a house in Estevan, Saskatchewan. The snow was real deep and my dad would help my brother and I make some real great snow forts. Christmas was very special, because we’d get lots of great toys. I also vaguely remember my mom getting excited about the Oil Wives’ Christmas Party.

I might not go that far back. I might only go as far back as Medicine Hat. Those were real cool Christmases because of the Christmas Pageant. You know how you read the accounts of Christmas in a small town and roll your eyes at how cheesy it seems? Having lived it as a child, I never roll my eyes. I smile as I remember the assemblies that were also rehearsals for the songs. Of course I never got picked to be one of the singers but I still remember the gym full of kids belting out both the religious and secular songs.

I could back to Edmonton when I was a young girl, and the Christmases that made it no problem understanding Dolly Parton’s “Hard Candy Christmas”. I was grateful for the homemade Christmas gifts, with much love and thought poured into them. I remember the family going downtown to look at the Christmas displays in the shop windows. Not all the Christmases in Edmonton in the 70’s and early 80’s were lean. I remember getting a Barbie Doll, a toy oven, and as I got older, clothes, games, even records.

I could go back to the high school years which were spent mainly in Lloydminster, on the Alberta side. The best year was when Santa Claus gave my brother and I a Canadian Monopoly game and wrote “NO FIGHTING” on the label. Santa had a tender heart, because earlier that year my mom had taken away the Monopoly game from my brother and me because we fought too much over it. Santa’s handwriting looked like my dad’s handwriting but since they were both male, it made perfect sense. There was also a year when Santa gave me Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” and my brother Eddy Grant’s “Electric Avenue”. Santa and my dad had the same music tastes.

I don’t remember the Christmas my college year in Edmonton just that my family had moved back to Edmonton. I do remember the following year because it was the first Christmas I spent at my parent’s place as a guest. I had moved out of their house earlier that year. They had not yet become born again Christians and let my fiancé also stay the night. I remember vaguely coming awake in the basement muttering “Who’s there?” only to hear my mom say “It’s the Easter Bunny. Go back to sleep.” I have to admit that was the only Christmas he spent with my family. Within a few years I didn’t have a fiancé to bring. It was just as well because by that time my parents had moved to Calgary, become born again Christians and wouldn’t have let us sleep together.

I vaguely remember a Christmas fifteen years ago in Edmonton involving my boyfriend, his ex-wife, their son, her current boyfriend, her ex-boyfriend and myself. I remember wondering if I really wanted another anti-Norman Rockwell Christmas. True, the gifts and fellowship were great, as well as a lot of green stuff that had nothing to do with pine but I wondered if this was the life I wanted to live. I found myself reflecting on a guy I had just met a few days earlier and wondering what sort of Christmas I’d have with him. I shut down that thought, because I knew he was way out of my league.

Little did I know as he was driving his friend back home to spend Christmas with his mom who lived in Calgary, he had a conversation with God that went along the lines of “God, remember how I prayed on the way to Edmonton that once the divorce is finalized, I don’t want a new relationship? I’ve changed my mind.” Now you know how an Edmonton gal wound up living in Calgary.

Prairie Redneck Christmas Cake

Occasionally on the Internet a piece circulates about someone's attempt to make alcohol laden fruitcake. As the recipe progresses, you can tell the person is getting drunk as they make the cake. Prairie redneck women are made of much sterner stuff. This is one recipe where Canadian content is forgotten, and American whiskey is used. It's usually called cake because as soon as you call it fruitcake, no redneck man will touch it even with all the whiskey. Anything in italics is optional.

Jack Daniels Cake

Open up J.D., have a shot to ensure its fresh
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temp
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2 generous cups flour
1/2 cup Jack Daniels lick up any residue in the cup to ensure the J.D. isn't wasted
12 ounces currants, or raisins
Indulge in a shot of J.D. because all the ingredients are successfully set out.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large bowl, beat the sugar into the softened butter until fluffy and white. Beat eggs in well. Time for more J.D., this is hard work.

In a separate bowl, combine the baking powder and flour. Beat the bourbon into the eggs and butter, and then add the flour mixture, fruit and nuts, mixing well. Almost done, J.D. shooter time.

Take a loaf pan, smear it with butter. Pour in the batter, and bake for about 45 minutes , or until a knife plunged in the center of the cake comes out dry. Use the time the cake is baking to enjoy another J.D. shooter.

When cake is done, brush top and sides with J.D. plus put some J.D. inside you.
Yield: 1 9x5x3 inch cake.

Whiskey Frosting
1/4 cup butter
2 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons whiskey as well as one for yourself.
pinch of salt

Cream butter, add sugar and salt, stirring is work, need some J.D. then whiskey. Whip until smooth. Frost cake. Have a final shot of J.D to celebrate another successful cooking experience.

Let's Get ROWDY!!!!!

First, congratulations to the Calgary Stampeders for going to the Grey Cup. Here's hoping you bring home the big trophy. That Quebec Maple Syrup is going to taste real sweet on the chuckwagon pancakes when it's being served to dedicated Calgarians who are making the trip to Montreal to see the Stamps. GOOOOOOOOOO Stamps GOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I had the pleasure on Friday night of being a guest of Country 105's "Let's Get Rowdy" section for the Professional Bull Riding Competition. The fun began at 5 p.m. with the waiver signing and entering into the "Sit on A Bull" contest. We got our Let's Get Rowdy passes and made our way into the Saddledome to go to ground level. The rink sure looks different covered with dirt and bull chutes. It was also a unique experience with the scent of bovine intermingled with the usual beer and popcorn scent that never seems to leave the Dome. Hot Rod Harriet literally gave me a "Are you INSANE?" look when she asked me if I was nervous about possibly getting on a bull.


She wasn't the only one who gave me that look when I squealed with delight upon winning the draw. I guess it's unusual for a woman, especially a woman less than five feet tall, to want to sit on a bull. Border Denial was definitely not a small bull. It was fun getting chaps and a vest on. It was exciting climbing up the chute. My excitement, however, started to wane when the bull sort of looked at me. I began to wonder what I'd gotten myself into but still sat on the bull. I'll admit that my smile got nervous when the bull started to grunt and sway. It was fun to sit on a bull but I'm in no hurry to ride one.

It's definitely worth it to rearrange your schedule for a Country 105 party. Free drink ticket, door prizes, mix and mingle, a chance to get better acquainted with the radio announcers plus the behind the scene staff that help make the radio show run smoothly made for an enjoyable pre-show event. I left The Whisky with Country 105, PBR, Barefoot Winery and Wrangler bling. Technically a scarf isn't bling but it definitely came in handy for the trip home.

What can I say about a Cody Schneider Professional Bull Riding Event? It's definitely smooth and polished, right from the word go. The great thing about the introductions is unlike football or hockey player introductions, you know what you are seeing isn't padding, it's 100% muscular thighs covered in blue jeans and chaps. I can understand why women would lose their heart to a bull rider despite the fact it's a risky profession.

I am still amazed and awed by the way the bulls move. For big, awkward looking critters, they can definitely move fast. I sat beside a knowledgeable cowboy who told me the difference between spinners and buckers. It was unreal how a bull could whip its body around, and turn its head like a cat chasing it's tail. I was more stunned by the spinners than the buckers. It made sense seeing a big hulking beast bucking around. To try to describe the spinning, though, is beyond my capabilities.

I don't think the bull riders are too insane. They are only on the bull for about 8 seconds if they are lucky. It's the brave men who distract the bull once the bull rider is bucked off or slides off that have me wondering if they aren't a little bit on the crazy side. I definitely salute them for the work that they do on behalf of the riders. The night was not without a few tense moments, including a rider having to be taken out on a body board. He wanted to walk out but the emergency crew told him it would be better to go on the board as a precaution.

For the record, I was sober when I got on the bull and sober when I left the Saddledome. I wasn't going to throw away 10 years of sobriety because of a bull. Big Lug isn't much for bull riding or for radio listener parties. He graciously stayed home with Kidlet while I had some fun time that was for the over 18 crowd.

Due to some verbal requests, some private topic requests on a message board and even an annonymous comment here, I have posted some of the bull pictures. As well, you can go to
http://www.country105.com/PhotoGalleries/PBR.aspx to see the Let's Get Rowdy party. The first picture is my radio interview with Hot Rod Harriet.
Proverbs 15:3 The eyes of the LORD are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.

Football IS Life

If you are American and reading this, it's the Canadian Football League's playoffs. We take our football seriously, especially in the West. That's what enables someone to walk around in a shirt that says "CFL: Our balls are bigger" without snickering.

My plan for Saturday was simple. Watch the Edmonton Eskimos show the rest of Canada why their city is called "The City of Champions" as they surprised the citizens of Manitoba by beating the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, vacuum the house and watch the remainder of the Saskatchewan Roughriders creaming of The B.C. Lions.

The Edmonton Eskimos won by only a touchdown. It was fun to see the foreign football players discover why Manitoba's capital city gets called "Winterpeg". As soon as I saw all the snow, I knew the Eskies would win. That's one team that definitely knows how to handle winter conditions in the fall. Due to Big Lug having to work, I was able to teach Kidlet how to cheer for the Edmonton Eskimos. Let's GO EskiMOS, Let's GO ESkiMOS, Green and Gold RUUSHHHHHHHH, GOOO ESKIES GOOOOOOO, DeFENCE, DeFENCE. Next week it will be even easier to cheer for the Edmonton Eskimos because it will be English versus French, prairie upstarts versus original settlers as the Eskies travel to Montreal to take on the Montreal Alouettes. Nah nah nah, heyyy heyy, goooood-bye. I'm just warming up for the end of the game next Saturday.

In the jungle, the mighty jungle of Mosaic Stadium at Regina, it started out with the roar of the Rider fans. I take exception to anyone who calls Rider fans buffoons or says they need to get a life. The Roughriders are their life. Saskatchewan has never had an NHL team. They have always had the Roughriders and the older the province gets, the more enduring Rider pride becomes. Besides, as both a football fan and a technogeek I can understand how someone would dye a Chewbacca costume green to wear to a Roughriders game. I wanted Saskatchewan to win because on the off chance the Calgary Stampeders lose next Saturday, it would give Big Lug a team to cheer for during the Grey Cup finals. I even had a blog half mentally written, about Rider Nation arriving in Calgary. When I finished vacuuming and looked at the score, I did a double take and said "What the frick?" Kidlet was in the room or I would have used a different word to express my feelings.

As the game regressed, I found myself feeling sorry for Country 105's Scott Phillips. He has no qualms about admitting to being a loyal Roughriders fans. Thankfully Calgarians tolerate Rider fans. Rider Nation is too strong to be assimilated no matter how many years someone has lived in Calgary. My sympathies to all the Rider fans. Here’s hoping the Stamps do to the Lions what they did to the Riders and Prairie Pride is triumphant this Saturday.

I'm hoping for an Edmonton Eskimos versus Calgary Stampeders for the Grey Cup. One way or another, it means the Grey Cup gets to be in the West for a year. I'm also hoping on Grey Cup Sunday, November 23rd we'll be sitting at the Calgary International Airport waiting for the triumphant Calgary Stampeders to return with the Grey Cup.

Proverbs 10:24 The fear of the wicked, it shall come upon him: but the desire of the righteous shall be granted.

Summer State of Mind

I will not deny crow’s feet or grey hairs. I will not deny there is a traffic flow problem on Deerfoot. I will not deny that dark chocolate has health benefits. I will deny, however, that there are months that you shouldn't go barefoot.

There is nothing special about my feet. They are ordinary feet, although when Kidlet was born the midwife did demand to look at our feet to see who he had inherited the long toes from and did a double take when she realized that along with the rest of my body, the only thing petite about me is my height. I don't undergo a pedicure on a regular basis. There is absolutely no logical reason why I should be reluctant to cover them up when it become furnace season.

I love to be barefoot. I enjoy the feel of the rug on my feet. Barefoot gives me incentive to sweep the kitchen floor on a regular basis. I am also helping the environment. If I only put on socks when I leave the yard, it means my socks last longer and there is less washing of footwear to do. When my feet are bare, I can convince myself the white stuff on the ground is another form of moisture for the ground and that summer hasn't left quite yet.

I have discovered I am not alone. One of Country 105's announcers shares my distaste of wearing socks this time of year. http://www.country105.com/Blogs/StephSays/Home.aspx To Steph Hansen and all the other women who defy the weather, I give you an eight toe salute. I'd make it ten but my baby toes are too little to curl upwards.

This is one of my favourite summer drinks, to be enjoyed all day long:

6 cups filtered water
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1 inch peeled fresh ginger
none-1/8 tsp Stevia (herbal sugar substitute)

Mix together, keep refrigerated. Tastes best if made the night before and chilled in the fridge.

Proverbs 8:12 I wisdom dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witting inventions. (KJV)

MMMMMM, Monday

It's another Manic Monday; wish it was a Sunday. That's my fun day, my race day. What, you thought I was going to say something else? The 80's are over, this is 2008.

I was a bit wistful as I watched the race on Sunday. It's sort of sad that I do remember a time when NASCAR broadcasts weren't sportstainment. I also remember when Earnhardt was an older driver with a moustache and most importantly, I remember when Jeff Gordon could be counted on to win at least one race a season. I was also wistful because last year this time I was busy planning to go to my first ever NASCAR race, at Phoenix. That magic will never be recaptured. It's sort of like being a virgin bride. True, the first part of the experience isn't quite what you expected. Once you get past the awkwardness, relax and try to enjoy, you'll discover what all the hype is about and want to do it more than once.

It was very easy to drift towards thoughts of Phoenix when I heard the S word on the radio this morning. I'm not into skiing, which means hearing a possible heavy snowfall warning doesn't make me think "Yahoo, maybe the slopes will open early this year", it makes me think "I don't want to shovel the walks this early." I don't "do" lawns. The trade off for not mowing is it becomes my responsibility to clear the snow.

I took my frustrations out on the house. Big Lug loves it when I get frustrated. I can usually be counted on to do extra housework. I no longer think we need new living room furniture. It's amazing what a thorough vacuuming can do to spruce up a couch and love seat. I worked up one heckuva an appetite doing that. I took a recipe that came all the way from Maryland in the US of A and tweaked it to my own tastes.

Bacon Lover's Salad

6 slices turkey bacon
1/2 cup diced onion (I used the purple-reddish kind)
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons water
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup spinach greens
1 tablespoon flaxseed oil

1 large radish, thinly sliced
1 hardboiled egg, chopped

Place bacon in a large, non stick fry pan and cook for about 5-7 minutes. Crumble bacon and add back to pan with onions. Cook for another three minutes to give the onion a chance to absorb any grease from the turkey bacon. Add apple cider vinegar, water and salt, cook until onion is tender.

Place spinach in a bowl, pour hot dressing over spinach, add flaxseed oil and toss well. Garnish with egg and radish.

If you aren't much of an onion lover, you could reduce the onion according to your tastes. Monday tends to be my at home, no company day which means I have no qualms eating a salad with that much onion in it.

Proverbs 3:35 The wise shall inherit glory: but shame shall be the promotion of fools.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I am not going to hand out religious tracts. I am not going to say "Jesus Loves You" as your child leaves my house. I am not going to have a great big pumpkin with John 3:16 carved on it. I respect and accept your decision to participate in Halloween. I do not, however, appreciate how it gets shoved down my throat.

Today Kidlet is home. He is not in school because there will be costume clad children running about. I think it's hypocritical that if he was to dress up as a young Jesus and I was to dress up as an older Mary, we would be forcing our religious beliefs on other people, yet its okay for my child to be exposed to Wiccan and Satanism in school. Yes, some kids will be going as a witch and some as a Devil or Satan.

In 2002 I "did" Halloween. I spent almost four hours decorating my yard. Having already read Erma Bombeck's "The Grass Is Always Greener Over The Septic Tank" I knew that living in suburbia meant lots of trick or treaters. I also know enough about humour writing to recognize exaggeration for comedic value. I split the difference and bought enough for 75 children. It turned out to be a good call, although as the night went on, there was less "thank you", more "gimme" and some flat out greed. Face it, if someone comes walking up with their costume clad 4 month old, no other children in sight; it doesn't take a genius to figure out who the candy is for. It does, however, take guts to be sixteen years old and dress up as a trio of cheerleaders. Their counterparts arrived a few minutes later, with a trio of sixteen year old girls dressed up as football players. They were the last three trick or treaters. Big Lug had a meeting he didn't want to miss, which meant I had to hand out the treats myself.

In 2003 I decided based on my experience of last year, I wasn't going to do Halloween. Fifteen month Kidlet was sick and Big Lug wasn't just across the city, he was out of the country. In my day it was simple. You turn off your front porch light, didn't put out a pumpkin and no worries. I soon discovered things had changed since my day. People didn't care about the porch light out, the undecorated front yard; all they cared about was candy. In 2004 the good news was Big Lug was home. The bad news was that both Big Lug and Kidlet were sick with the flu. Based on my experience from last year, I had to go out, put a barrier across our front door steps and hope for the best. I could have done without hearing F bombs, the S word and CRAP as people ignored the undecorated yard, the porch light off and even going to the extreme of closing the curtains. From 2005-2007 we left the house. Since Kidlet was being homeschooled in 2007, we didn't have to make the decision of whether or not to have him stay home on Halloween.

Today in our household, it's Adventure Day. Kidlet will be staying home from school. Tonight we'll have a quiet evening at home. The only difference is we won't be able to look at the night sky through the bay window. Thanks to greed and obsession, we'll have to close the curtains.

Proverbs 31:27a: She looks well to the ways of her household

Read On

When I received the volunteer signup sheet for Kidlet's school, I looked carefully at all the categories. When I saw "Office", I found myself thinking about all the hours I spent babysitting and working at A&W to save up to go to college. I thought of my Clerk Typist Certificate that I received in addition to my High School Diploma, the hectic ten months at Grant Macewan College taking a variety of Administrative Secretarial courses and five years later upgrading my computer skills. I fast forwarded through fifteen years of working in the Office/Clerical field. It was with no doubts in my mind I deliberately left blank "Office".

Today there is no doubt in my mind I made the right decision for me. I am a voracious reader. Big Lug swears I am the only woman who has everything from romantic fiction to anecdotal style cookbooks, from books with titles like "Hard Labor" and "Birthing From Within" to "Elvis Is Dead and I Don't Feel So Good Myself" and "I Should Have Seen It Coming When The Rabbit Died". When I arrived at Kidlet's classroom, his teacher asked me if I could help the kids with their Individual Reading.

It was fun teaching the kids in the high range the importance of attention to detail. The ones in the middle range were enjoyable because they tended to be very excited and eager to show me how well they could read. It was the low range kids that made me realize I was right where I was meant to be and made the morning a precious experience. It was thrilling to see a pair of blue eyes light up with joy as they realized the difference between "the" and "there". One of the boys started out tentative and as I encouraged him, by the end he was saying the words with confidence. I made a girl grin with delight when I asked her if she liked ice cream and pointed out to her a book about ice cream. Yes, I had already had a chance to review that book two weeks ago. It was thanks to caring teachers and kind-hearted volunteers, as well as dedicated parents who never gave up on me that I became the avid reader I am today. Like his mother before him, Kidlet is starting at the bottom and working his way to the top.

Proverbs 23:12 Apply your heart to instruction, and your ears to the words of knowledge.

Strides for Womenkind

The more I think about it, the more I'd like to declare Sarah Palin a honourary Prairie Redneck Woman. Between her strong will, her love of hunting, the way she combines motherhood and work, plus the fact Alaska might as well be part of Canada, she deserves that status. Bless you Sarah Plain, thanks for showing "I did it my way" doesn't just have to be about working in the boardroom, it can apply to childbirthing.

Alberta women can rejoice that our province has finally moved into the 1970's and given women true freedom of choice. As of April 2009 homebirthing will finally be covered by Alberta Health Care. I have the honour of being published three times for why homebirthing is a good thing and should be covered by AHC. It's definitely worth it to make time to write a Letter To the Editor. It's also worth it to pay long distance to phone an MP in Edmonton.

It was also a thrill to see a woman be part of the Federal Election Debates. The Green Party might be a fringe party but if the Bloc Quebecois can be included, The Green Party also has that right. Now that the election is over, I feel safe talking up Elizabeth May. At least no one can accuse me of using my blog to push a particular party.

Who knows, maybe someday the Calgary Flames or Edmonton Oilers will hire hockey players that keep bringing home the Olympic Gold Medals and the Stanley Cup will return to Canada.

Proverbs 17:15 He that justifies the wicked, and he that condemns the just, even they both are abomination to the Lord.

Unbigoted Boy

I am proud and relieved that my efforts have paid off and my son is a truly enlightened Albertan. He is the result of a mixed marriage, Alberta style. Big Lug is a true born and bred Calgarian, I'm an Edmontonian. Kidlet is unique. It's amazing when someone can say "I'm not from someplace else, I was born in Calgary". It's even more amazing when someone can say "I'm a second generation Calgarian."

Kidlet provided some mirth and merriment on the bus Wednesday evening when I told him what our Thanksgiving plans are. It's not often you see someone clap their hands with delight and say "Goodie, we're going to Edmonton! I love Edmonton!" I have worked very hard at instilling not just civic pride but provincial pride in my son. Big Lug, however, sometimes has to grit his teeth, especially when the Edmonton Oilers or the Edmonton Eskimos go further than the Calgary Flames or the Calgary Stampeders in the playoffs. Most painful was the hockey season when it looked like the Edmonton Oilers were going to win the Stanley Cup.

Part of the reason why we are going to my hometown for Thanksgiving is as a present for my 90 year old grandma. She's four feet, nine inches of strong will, intermingled with love, affection and pride who might not be able to see well with her eyes but still has a sharp mind. It's also easier for Big Lug and I to put our one child in the truck than it is for my brother and sister-in-law to put their three children in the station wagon. Last, it's a give of love. Big Lug knows that despite the fact I'm learning to call Calgary home, fall is when I get the most homesick. Edmonton is beautiful this time of year, with the trees in the river valley changing to their fall colours.

Proverbs 9:11 For by God will your days be multiplied, and the years of your life shall be increased.

Breast Foot Forward

BEEP BEEP BEEP! Normally the sound of an alarm going off at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday is a rude sound. I had to get up early to participate in the CIBC Run For The Cure. That’s the official name. The reality is people run 10 km, 5 km, walk 5 km, walk 5 km with strollers, walk 5 km with pets, or even walk 1 km. The one thing they all have in common is they are doing it for Breast Cancer. The Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce does this from coast to coast.
It hadn’t been an easy goal for me to achieve. Between a twisted ankle, ear infection and medication that has a side effect of shortness of breath, by the time I was healthy enough to participate, there was only a week to go. Big Lug surprised me by being my biggest contributor. A gal pal also made a contribution.

Due to the temperature, I had to layer up. I wore a long sleeve pink shirt, a short sleeved pink knitted vest, and grey sweat pants with grey shorts on top. When I poked my head out the door, I threw on my dark brown knitted hoody. Thanks to the v-neck, you could tell that I was wearing pink underneath. To finish the ensemble, I put on my black western hat with a pink & blue breast cancer hatband I had crocheted.

I was a bundle of nerves before the race. It took seeing a few familiar faces and getting some real food in me to get settled down. I dedicated the walk to the memory of my Great Grandma Kate and my Auntie Joan. Although my great grandma passed away at a young age due to a heart attack, she was a breast cancer survivor. My aunt is also a survivor.

The walk itself was an amazing experience. Men and women, some pushing strollers, some walking dogs, some walking, various ages, some women wearing pink CIBC t-shirts, thankfully most women in CIBC white. Pink is usually a sign of a breast cancer survivor. I caught up with a 60 something woman who was glad to have someone to pair with. It was touching to see how some yards were decorated as a show of support. It was sweet seeing an old woman sitting in a lawn chair, with her tree bedecked in pink coloured toilet paper, waving to the walkers as they went by. Another household had booked a yard decorating company to put pink flamingos out and a sign of encouragement. I almost cried with joy when the woman I had paired with looked at her watch and thanked me for helping her get her best time ever. We both made the walk in just over an hour.

My son decided to join me for the final corner to the finish line. It was a thrill to have him beside me, Big Lug enthusiastically taking pictures. Afterwards I had the delight of meeting Catriona Le May Doan, getting her autograph and even her being willing to pose for a picture. As well, I was able to get my picture taken with Dan, Robyn and Doug, Country 105’s The Odd Squad. With Country 105 being one of the radio sponsors of the run, they were busy representing the station.

My feet are sore; it’s taken me more time than usual to create this blog but I wanted to make a blog entry while everything was still fresh in my mind. Many thanks to those who sent prayers and positive thoughts in my direction, as well as Marchmount Cleaning Services Inc. for providing me with workout gear. A special thanks to Big Lug and Ell for being my two contributors.

Proverbs 6:4 Give not sleep to thine eyes, nor slumber to thine eyelids.

Good Advice

Good Advice

1. Take a 10-30 minute walk every day. And while you walk, smile. It is the ultimate anti-depressant.--Plus if you smile while you are walking, it makes people wonder what’s on your mind or what you are listening to through your headphones.
2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. Buy a lock if you have to.--You don’t have to buy a lock, just put duct tape on your man’s mouth.
3. When you wake up in the morning complete the following statement, 'My purpose is to __________ today.'--You’ll know if your man has read this if he’s trying real hard to get some.
4. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.—McCain’s Tater Tots combine the best of both worlds and you are supporting the Prince Edward Island potato industry
5. Drink green tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, wild Alaskan salmon, broccoli , almonds & walnuts.—Wild Alaskan salmon is Wild Vancouver Island Salmon that has swum further up the Pacific Ocean.
6. Try to make at least three people smile each day.—I always like to make Me, Myself and I smile.
7. Don't waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead, invest your energy in the positive present moment.—Great, now men who don’t like their mother-in-law have a perfect reason for avoiding her.
8. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a college kid with a maxed out charge card.—That's why if you want to get hit on by a college boy, go to a bar that has free appetizers during Happy Hour.
9. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.—My Mama always said Life Isn’t fair, Life isn’t unfair, Life just is.
11. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.—Or as my best gal pal likes to say “Dance like no one is looking”.
12. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.—The Klingons also have a saying: Revenge is a dish best served cold.
13. Make peace with your past so it won't spoil the present.—Plus when you make peace with the past, it can get you a nice sucking up present.
14. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.—I’m not perfect but I’m Canadian and that’s good enough for me.
15. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.—The lower bowl Flames versus Oilers hockey tickets that Big Lug’s boss gave him has definitely charged up my happiness and it’s not even 10 a.m.
16. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: 'In five years, will this matter?'—RIP Dale. Your NASCAR legacy lives on. Scott Phillips, thanks for keeping Allan Jackson's "Where Were You?" on Country 105's playlist.
17. Forgive everyone for everything.—To put this into Redneck speak, What goes around comes around.
18. What other people think of you is none of your business.—If you are going to follow #1, #4, #7, #8 and #11, this one will become law, not just a casual suggestion.
19. GOD heals everything.—AMEN!!!!!!!!!!
20. However good or bad a situation is, it will change. If you are having trouble believing that, reread #19 five times
21. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch!!!—That’s why #17 is very important.
22. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.—I walk two blocks one way, I’m in an assisted rent complex. I walk two blocks a different direction, I’m in a section where a cheap house is $750,000. If all three of us walk five blocks together, we’ve got a great view of the mountains. Life is good.
23. Each night before you go to bed complete the following statements: I am thankful for __________.—giving in to my husband’s attempts to get some. Prairie redneck women aren’t ashamed to admit they like to try to get some. It’s just not the be all, end all of their thought process.
24. Today I accomplished _________.—Stoking Corney’s ego. You go GIRL!
25. Remember that you are too blessed to be stressed.

Proverbs 3:1-2 Forget not my law, but let your heart keep my commandments; for length of days, and long life, and peace, shall they add to you.

What's that noise?

Country 105's Hot Rod Harriet's tale of woe http://www.country105.com/Blogs/MicsOff/BlogEntry.aspx?BlogEntryID=10009001 about a mouse in the house brought back memories of when a mouse got into my house. The first twenty-four hours I went into denial about what the droppings and noises were. I went another day hoping that with two cats, the problem would soon disappear. I'd forgotten that cats tend to like to play with their prey before they kill it. To Jude and Faith, the mouse was just a fun toy.

Big Lug definitely wasn't too helpful about the potential mouse problem. He went off on a rant about my laid back attitude towards housekeeping. When I said I wasn't that bad, he pointedly asked me when was the last time I swept the kitchen floor.

Matters finally came to a head on a Sunday morning. I had gotten up early to make some baking to bring to church. I had made a vow to sweep the kitchen floor more frequently and reached behind the microwave stand to grab the broom. That's when everything sort of went slow motion. I saw the mouse, I heard it's little feet scratching on the floor as it ran for cover behind the fridge and the cats SITTING by the fridge watching me. I guess I was probably fun to watch because I went total chick.

Big Lug's version of what happened is he woke up to a high pitched EEEEEEEEEE coming from the kitchen. He stumbled out of bed to see me standing on a chair. I pointed to the fridge and said Theresamousebehindthefridgegetridoftheeffingthingnow! When he asked me what the Hell was going on, I replied ItoldyouthereisamousebeingthefridgeIhatemicegetridofit. After the second time, it dawned on him the last time he saw me go Total Chick was when a friend's cat had caught a mouse. He told me to calm down and tell him exactly what was going on.

In Big Lug's defense, by no stretch of the imagination am I a girly girl. I am definitely 99 99/100th pure Tomboy. To see his wife who would nonchalantly catch a spider in the house and get rid of it, who preferred denim to lace and only owned three pairs of shoes to turn into a shrieking, up on the chair woman was hard for him wrap his brain around. Unfortunately my big, strong tough guy did me the double cross of expecting me to Tomboy up and help him get rid of the mouse. Even worse, I did know what to do and how to do it.

I gave Big Lug a metal bowl and told him to put it over the mouse if it made a break for it. I shut the cats in our bedroom and our three year old in his bedroom while Big Lug kept an eye on the fridge. Cats and Kidlet out of the way, next step was for Big Lug to pull out the fridge while I stood guard with the bowl. I'll spare you the details of his monologue about when was the last time I swept underneath the fridge. He took the back off the fridge and said "I can see the damn thing's eyes. Are you ready?" He got the mouse out and I was able to quickly put the small metal bowl over top of it. The next step was to slide a piece of card stock between the bowl and the floor to capture the mouse. Unfortunately I didn't make it clear to Big Lug he was the one who was supposed to pick it up. There are times when it's not worth it to argue, a woman has to do what a woman has to do. If you think mice are cute, it's time to stop reading and leave this blog.

The final step was to go to the bathroom and flush the mouse. There was no way I was going to do a catch and release. I wanted the mouse GONE!!!!!!!!!!!! Within 48 hours I threw out $80 worth of food, bought $100 worth of Tupperware to store food in and upgraded my housekeeping standards. We also bought $25 worth of traps in case anymore mice had the same bright idea of coming into our house. The last four years we have been mouse free.

Redneck Love

Big Lug took today off. As I type this, he's busy online checking out prices for Sirius Satellite receivers. I don't Dr. Phil or Oprah but this good ole girl sure could do NASCAR channel's Tradin' Paint no problem.

On Sunday we had to get a home unit for the receiver so we could at least listen to the race on NASCAR channel. We don't blame TSN for not bumping their CFL coverage for the weather delayed Richmond race. Canadian football is definitely as important as NASCAR races to Canadian Rednecks. We do however blame Shaw for not having Hot Pass coverage of the race. Big Lug jokingly said with how much fun I was having listening to the race on radio, I'd be asking for a second receiver. I snorted, rolled my eyes and let loose with a "Yeah right."

Thanks to Kidlet's diabolical plan to get a ride to school, I got to listen to one of the NASCAR channel's talk shows during our drive to Starbuck's. Big Lug's logic was that as long he was on the road so early, he might as well take his favourite gal to Starbucks. The smell of Big Lug's Venti Latte intermingled with the smell of my Tall Strawberries & Crème Frappuccino in our 1997 Blazer. To offset the Yuppiness of those fancy drinks was the Good Ole Boy hilarity of the Morning Drive. By the time we got back home, I was giggling and sheepishly asking Big Lug pointed questions about how much a second receiver cost.

Never mind jewellery, flowers or chocolates, redneck love is buying your wife a Sirius Satellite Receiver so she can listen to the NASCAR channel while she's at home. Don't worry Country 105, I'll still listen to the Odd Squad in the early morning. As for the Scott Phillips show and the Drive Home Show, that's why I prefer my 1987 AM/FM Walkman to a 2007 iPOD when I'm out of the house.

Proverbs 12:4 A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband, but she that brings shame is as rottenness in his bones.

When The World Stopped Turning

Tuesday, September 11, 2001 got off to an annoying start. Beyond a shadow of a doubt Big Lug was sick with the flu including being feverish, stuffed up, achy, nauseous, and tired. I was some what irritated because I knew he’d be sick like this for a solid week. I decided to break my self-imposed rule of not getting online and see if any of my stock car friends were having a miserable morning.

When I first saw a thread titled “Planes crashes into World Trade Centre” I innocently assumed it was a Cessna or something and didn’t pay any attention. When a similar one appeared, however, I did look. That’s how I found out life as I knew it would be turned upside down. As I read, I felt both sorrow and rage. Sorrow for my American friends and rage that someone would be doing this to America. I phoned the newsline of Country 105 to ask if they had received any information. I couldn’t believe there wasn’t any mention of what was going on. Since it hadn’t been received off the official news “ticker”, they had no way of knowing if it was official. I did, however, start to suspect something was up when 7:15 a.m. passed and Beat The Bomb didn’t happen. By this time I had the T.V. on and was trying not to scream out WHY GOD?!

During the 7:30 a.m. news, I heard the newscaster say in a disdainful voice “Who cares about the game, America is under attack” That’s when full reality hit me. This had to be an attack on America, not just something random. When Big Lug asked me why I was leaving for work so late I told him that a couple of jets had crashed into the World Trade Centre and it was burning down. In his feverish state, what I said didn’t register on him and his reply was “That’s no excuse for being late to work.” While I was on the bus, my cellphone rang. It was my husband calling asking me why the Hell didn’t I tell him what was going on. Suddenly he being sick with the flu wasn’t such an imposition. Big Lug would spend the upcoming week watching CNN, trying to make sense of what happened.

The first way I brought a ray of sunshine to the lives of my American friends was when I announced the stranded country musicians were going to have a charity concert to raise money for the Red Cross. On Thursday, September 13th, 2001 there were no cameras to broadcast the concert live to the world. There was just a bunch of Canadian country musicians singing songs of hope and inspiration for America, with donation boxes circulating for the audience to put money in. I shared about the memorial tribute the Calgary Stampeders and Saskatchewan Roughriders held for America, with the Star Spangled Banner being sung as well as O’ Canada and again the donation boxes being made available for the American Red Cross. There was also Alberta Rides For America, a group of ranchers who got together to ride their horses from Alberta to the Montana border, raising money along the way for their neighbours who were going through troubled times.

I remember the soul searing pain I felt that someone could attack America and hurt my friends. I remember the rage I felt at a 60 year old co-worker who said “It’s just an American thing, this will all blow over by the end of the month. The Americans are being dramatic. It’s not like this will change the world.” When Kidlet is old enough to ask why I know so precisely when he was conceived, I’ll tell him about the day that changed the world.

Proverbs 11:12 He that is void of wisdom despises his neighbour, but a man of understanding holds his peace.

An Innocent Day

Monday, September 10th, 2001 was a great day. I still remember the fun I had on the weekend. The Canadian Country Music Awards had a Fan Fest. I enjoyed listening to performances while waiting in the autograph line ups, talking with other fans about the singers and the crowning moment when Terri Clark gave a security guard a real nasty look and me a hug. Thanks again Terri for signing an extra item for me!

The weather that day was warm; Country 105’s the Odd Squad were in fine form, with Doug, Dan and Robyn discussing the weekend and who would win which award that night. The phone lines were busy with people calling to talk about their Fan Fest experiences or to lend their support in the “Who Would Win What Award” verbal bantering. There was also the excitement of the Beat the Bomb game, with one lucky caller at 7:15 a.m. attempting to win up to $5,000 while the sound of an active bomb was in the background. I was listening to Country 105 on my Walkman during the morning commute and using my cell phone to try to call in. It was a difficult morning to get through and it wasn’t until I got downtown that I was able to share my anecdote of how sweet Terri Clark had been signing her CD that had brought comfort to my husband after his dad had died in 2000.

That night my husband and I watched the CCMA’s together. I was a bit worried about him because as the show progressed, I could tell he was fighting a losing battle with the flu. He wasn’t trying to play our “Who’s going to win?” game like usual. The flu couldn’t have come at a worse time, because we were trying to conceive our first child. One of my last thoughts before going to bed was that I needed something major to throw my body’s schedule off by a week and we could try again at the end of the month. I remember feeling somewhat excited about the upcoming day and hearing the Odd Squad’s thoughts about the CCMA awards, while trying to be lucky caller ten to play Beat the Bomb.

The sequel to the story will be shared tomorrow.

Proverbs 10:25 As the whirlwind passes, so are the wicked no more, but the righteous are an everlasting foundation.

Redneck Eh

Proverbs 29:18 Where there is no vision, the people perish, but he that keeps the law, happy is he.

I have had people wonder exactly what the difference is between Prairie Rednecks and their American counterparts. As well, some people aren't sure if they are redneck or just hicks. Here are some ways to help you decide if you are indeed a prairie redneck.

You might be redneck eh if you follow stock car racing on both sides of the border.
--Last November I went to my first NASCAR race, at Phoenix International Speedway. This year I have told Big Lug for an Anniversary present I'd like a family pass to Racecity Motor Speedway.

You might be redneck eh if you consider marrying a Southern Albertan marrying "up".
--Calgarians consider themselves superior to Edmontonians because most of the oil companies have their head offices in Calgary. Edmontonians consider themsevles superior to Calgarians because they aren't afraid to get their hands dirty working on oil rigs.

You might be redneck eh if you wear a cowboy hat to a Guns and Rose concert.
--Years ago, before I met Big Lug, I just about gave myself whiplash when I looked at a couple wearing cowboy hats at a Guns and Rose Concert. Sure enough, they were Calgarians who had bought tickets for the Edmonton concert.

You might be redneck eh if you have a Canadian Flag and an American flag somewhere in your house.
--We might have to shovel more snow, we might not have the same local slang but rednecks still respect their American neighbours.

You might be redneck eh if you support both the American and Canadian troops.

You might be redneck eh if you ignore the fact hockey is NOT Canada's official sport.
--Would you believe it's Lacrosse?

You might be redneck eh if you can maintain a serious expression while explaining the Canadian Football League motto "Our balls are bigger".
--It's one of the differences between the CFL and the NFL.

You might be redneck eh if your idea of date night is ordering in pizza while watching the Canadian Country Music Awards.
--Yes, Big Lug and I do this every year.

Covering Up

Proverbs 21:3 To do justice and judgment is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice.

One of the things prairie redneck women have in common with other women is their tendency to cover up for their man. I don’t mean lying about bruises or pretending he doesn’t have a drinking problem, I mean the standard ways a woman covers for her man. The only difference might be what she cover ups.

For example, when a redneck man says he cut his hand when he set a glass down too hard, she’ll cover for him and say he’s telling the truth. What she’ll leave out is the reason why he set the glass down too hard is because his favourite stock car driver got spun out at turn three, lost the race and he slammed his glass of Pepsi down hard on the coffee table while hollering Up Yours Tony!

Then there’s the puck in eye while playing hockey on the pond. Yup, it’s the hazards of playing defence; you have to worry about getting a puck in the face. Of course it’s harder to see the puck coming when you are looking at your neighbour’s daughter and thinking she’s getting to the point the wife will be the one to pick her up and drop her off for babysitting, not him.

Speaking of young females, it’s real hard to get mad at a man who says he bought a case of Girl Guide cookies after he took a look at the calendar in the bedroom. Better to just chuckle indulgently as he hands the hostess of the Hockey Night in Canada party a box of Girl Guide cookies and says there’s plenty more. Besides, unless you tell him not to worry about answering the door during a televised stock car race, he’ll answer the door and choose the path of least resistance.

There are women, though, who will cover up when there isn’t any need to. An Edmonton couple drove their car to Canadian Tire, only to have their car break down in the parking lot. The man told his wife to carry on with the shopping while he fixed the car in the lot.

The wife returned later to see a small group of people near the car. On closer inspection, she saw a pair of male legs protruding from under the chassis. Although the man was in shorts, his lack of under-pants turned private parts into glaringly public ones.

Unable to stand the embarrassment, she dutifully stepped forward, quickly put her hand UP his shorts, and tucked everything into place.

The wife stood back up, she looked across the hood and found herself staring at her husband who was standing idly by.

The mechanic, however, had to have three stitches in his forehead

Victoria Day Weekend

Did you know that Victoria Day was started before Memorial Day? At least unofficially. Officially it was declared long after Memorial Day. Enough of sounding like a Social Studies teacher, time for the fun.

First of all, I have learned that as far as a child is concerned, if you give them a patch of lawn and call it a Dandelion Garden, when the dandelions spread, it means the garden has grown, not that everything outside the garden is considered weeds. Second, if you are in the habit of putting something at the top of the stairs to go to the basement later, don’t be surprised when your almost six year old puts your water cup at the top of the porch stairs, returns empty handed to say he’ll refill your water glass later.

I am not, however, the only one who had a learning experience regarding yard work. Apparently while Kidlet and I were out, Big Lug ran into one of our new casement style windows while mowing the lawn for the first time this year. I suspect what he had to say about that made it a good thing Kidlet and I had gone to pick up some groceries. When we returned, Big Lug had decided to postpone the front lawn until Monday due to spraying the dandelions and probably wanting to indulge his inner cave man. Trust a guy to want to burn dead wood and live juniper bush cuttings when it’s +25 outside and there is little cloud clover

Our Victoria Day dinner sort of embraced two family traditions: My family’s of having a barbecue, Big Lug’s of having beans with steak. The weather was perfect for lawn mowing, which Big Lug did. It was also perfect for trimming back juniper bushes. I decided not to add to the pile and focused more on housework. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Overall it was such a fun weekend; I have no regrets about staying home. I am thinking that next year we might brave the weather and go camping. At least next year we won’t have any extreme landscaping projects to do. If it wasn’t for the bylaws, I’d love to take a blowtorch to the juniper bushes. As it is, during the upcoming week I’ll probably have updates on my battle with them. God must be happy I am working on an intense project because there are many times I pray to him for patience, for calmness and the ability to know when I’ve have enough.

Proverbs 16:15 Slothfulness casts a deep sleep; and an idle soul shall suffer hunger.

Family Friday

I have spent this Friday doing for my family, including my church family. It's a long weekend here in Canada. I am going to take the weekend off. Just for fun this weekend, read Proverbs 16 today, Proverbs 17 Saturday, Proverbs 18 Sunday and if you are Canadian, Proverbs 19 Monday.

I will be back on Monday with an account of how my long weekend has been going. For those who listen to Country 105.1 FM or ww.country105.com , yes you heard correctly, the Odd Squad is indeed working on the holiday Monday.

Have a safe and blessed Victoria Day long weekend if you are Canadian! If you are from a different country, I still wish you a safe and blessed weekend!

Proverbs 16:1 The preparations of the heart in man, and the answer of the tongue, is from the Lord.

Bars

I love men. That’s probably why I married one. To be honest, I think part of the reason why I got married is I got tired of the bar scene. When you are living the scene, you don’t realize how cheesey some lines are. I am sure the men who frequent bars are otherwise reasonably intelligent males. Unfortunately I never seemed to attract that sort
.
For example, there was the man that I dubbed the Put Downer. He seemed to think a great way to pick up a brunette was to put down other women. The Put Downer’s favourite joke would go:

Put Downer: What’s the mating call of a blonde?
Me (being polite) I don’t know.
“Gee I’m drunk.” I’d smile or giggle depending on how much I’d had to drink.

Put Downer: What’s the mating call of a redhead?
Me deciding to further shove away my college education: “I don’t know”
Put Downer: “Gee I’m lonely.”

I’d smile knowing the third part of the joke and wondering if it was really worth it to have this guy sit down with my girlfriend and me to laugh but knowing deep down I was enough of an alcoholic, I would.

Put Downer: What’s the mating call of a brunette?

Odds are if you are reading this you are now rolling your eyes because you know how the rest of the story goes. He says “Have all the damn blondes and redheads left yet”, I laugh, he sits down, his buddy joins us and the rest of the evening passes by with the two men buying us at least one drink, me laughing at the lame jokes, my girlfriend going home with one of the men and me announcing I have a boyfriend, I’m just here to keep my girlfriend company.

Then there is the Macho Man who has evolved beyond the “You’re cute, what’s your sign?” and uses as a pick up line “What music do you like?” Once I decided to drift back to my country roots, I had my own standard line. “I like both types of music.” I’d pause, grin and with a full fledge prairie drawl say “Country and Western”. Macho Man would usually leave skid marks because any woman who admits to being both country and western usually will eventually bring up the whole white picket fence, 2.3 children and mini-van lifestyle.

Desperate Man will give the same fake laugh I use for the Put Downer’s joke, talk about Willie Nelson, forewarn his friend the younger brunette is dangerous before joining our table and be careful how much money he spent on me.

Thankfully next month it will have been thirteen years since I gave up that lifestyle. I wouldn’t go back to it for anything; on the other hand, those memories tend to come back Victoria Day Long weekend because that’s when I decided to embrace the bar lifestyle for about six years. It’s also why the first six years of my twenties are a hazy blur. Be careful this weekend as you venture out to the bars. Heads you’ll run into an intelligent person, tails you’ll run into someone who will hustle you.

Proverbs 15:2 The tongue of the wise use knowledge properly; but the mouth of fools pour out foolishness.

It's Worship Wednesday!

I recently pointed out the more you kick God out of your country, the more you let Satan take hold of your country. I started thinking, however, that doesn’t just apply to countries but to your own life. There isn’t much point in faithfully donating $350 a month to the church if as soon as you get out of the parking lot you forget everything you’ve heard until next Sunday. The lowly loonie you put in the collection basket, however, has more meaning if you apply what you’ve learned to your life as soon as you get up from your chair or pew. Although this is a joke, it does illustrate my point.

A college professor, an avowed Atheist, was teaching his class. He shocked several of his students when he flatly stated he was going to prove there is no God. Addressing the ceiling he shouted: "God, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I'll give you 15 minutes!" The lecture room fell silent. You could have heard a pin fall. Ten minutes went by. Again he taunted God, saying, "Here I am, God. I'm still waiting." His count-down got down to the last couple of minutes when a soldier just released from active duty and newly registered in the class walked up to the professor, hit him full force in the face, and sent him butt over tea-cups from his lofty platform. The professor was out cold! At first the students were shocked and babbled in confusion. The young soldier took a seat in the front row and sat silent. The class fell silent...waiting. Eventually, the professor came to, shaken. He looked at the young soldier in the front row. When the professor regained his senses and could speak he asked: "What's the matter with you? Why did you do that?""God was busy. He sent me."

To me this guy wasn’t just a soldier, he was also a redneck. The polite thing to do would have been to get into a debate with the professor. Every redneck knows there is a time when you say to heck with political correctness.

There are many ways you can be more Christ-like at your job, at school or at your daily activities. It is up to you to listen and trust God for his guidance. Be still long enough to hear God, be accepting of hat he tells you and be Christ-like as you regard today as Worship Wednesday.

Proverbs 14:5 A faithful witness will not lie: but a false witness will utter lies.

Hockey People

When you are at a party or in the bar, you really have to be cautious about Hockey Guy. I don’t mean someone who has any combination of a missing tooth, firm thighs or strong arms, I mean the guy whose opening line is “How bout them Flames” or if you are in northern Alberta “How bout them Oilers?” If he waxes eloquently about the last game, talks about the upcoming game and compares the current team to the team of the’80’s, do not give this man your phone number unless you enjoy hockey. You have to be careful of the other extreme, who simply rattles off the score and gets the opposing team wrong. This guy is usually either still living with his mom or has been messed up by a previous woman. He is trying to avoid cheesey pickup lines and is using a safe line.

Unfortunately this line is also used by anti-hockey guy who is trying to determine if you like hockey. There are men out there who do not like Canada’s glorious sport. If you enjoy hockey, steer clear of this man. Unlike women, men who do not like hockey cannot be converted. A redneck woman can be counted on to humour her friends and watch a game or two, especially if it is the playoffs or the Olympics. Oddly enough, men who do not like hockey also do not like figure skating. I thought I’d slip that in because both Lug and I have had gay friends who do not like figure skating but do like hockey. Unless you want to forever change your perspective about hockey, do not ask a gay man why he likes hockey.

Hockey Gals can also be dangerous. They are the ones who will not gush and say “oh how thoughtful” when you buy tickets to the game that come with a complimentary oxygen mask. They want tickets that you do not need binoculars to watch the game. Prairie redneck women are secure enough; they have no qualms about saying how cute a player is. They can be counted on to bring a camera to any special games, such as a jersey being retired or a playoff banner being raised. The down side to Hockey Gals is they can also be counted on to make a direct beeline for the clothing store at the rink and will rationalize something $40 off to be an excuse to buy even more things. Like the stereotype that if a man does not like hockey, he must be gay, women who like hockey shop the same way as any other woman does.

As with Hockey Guy, Hockey Gal is proceed with caution in the bars. Do not take her to a bar nearby the rink on game night. She knows every player by sight off ice and at the first sign of even a third string defenseman, will be off like a shot to buy him a drink. Each season her main goal is to get her jersey autographed by every team member by the end of the season. A woman who loves hockey is safe because she is usually mature enough she won’t obsess about hockey players. Whether you encounter a Hockey Gal or a Hockey Woman, unless you really enjoy the sport, don’t get too chummy with her.

The more indifferent you are to hockey, the more you need to avoid The Hockey Couple. This is the couple that plans their whole life around the hockey team. You can count on them to have in the background not music but the hockey game, whether it is televised or on radio. At a party, if you innocently throw out the conversational line relating to the team, you will get a ten minute monologue, in stereo, about the game. They are the cute couple who usually have his and hers jerseys. There is inevitably a hockey game that played an integral part in their early dating days or he’ll be one of those guys who proposed to her via the Jumbotron.

Run; do not walk away, from anyone who jokes about how they have a mixed relationship Alberta style unless you love to hear debates about whose team is better, the Flames or the Oilers. This couple usually will start out with gentle barbs about the teams. From there it will deteriorate into a discussion about which city is better, Edmonton or Calgary. This can be amusing. Take the high road and just let them have their exchange. The usual conversational changes such as “how bout that weather” will just add fuel to the fire by a discussion of Northern Alberta weather versus Southern Alberta.

Some year the Cup will return to Alberta. Until then, each season one group of fans is bound to hold their heads high and say with pride "At least the Flames made it further then the Oilers" or "How do Calgarians spell 'Dynasty'? O-n-e."

Proverbs 13:16 Every prudent man deals with knowledge: but a fool lays open his folly.

What A Monday!

What are the odds that both my laptop and my computer would develop technical difficulties? I have a new flat screen monitor because according to Big Lug when your monitor makes a banging noise, it's croaked and beyond repair. As for my laptop, I'll plead guilty I don't like using a touch pad and I didn't know how to change the battery. I do now.

It's now 8:45 pm as I type this. Big Lug has pointedly said he is ready whenever I am. Before your minds go into overdrive, it's to watch Hell's Kitchen. I wonder how many people see Hell's Kitchen and pray they never go to a restaurant with rookie chefs? This will be a short one, due to the time factor.

Proverbs 12:3 KJV A man shall not be established by wickedness: but the root of the righteous shall not be moved.

Mothers

My Mother
By Mrs. Kathy Jensen

My Mother’s hands make sweet treats
that pleasantly greet my nose when I come in from play.
My Mother’s smile can brighten up my day
My Mother’s arm make the cares of the world go away.
My Mother’s prayers cover me, should I stray
Instilling a love, for my God above
My love,
My encourager,
My friend,
My angel on earth,
My Mother.

Thanks Mrs. J. for creating an inspirational poem for both young and old Mothers!

Today is Mother's Day. Back in 2005 I reacted the wrong way to some information my parents gave me. If I could go back in time, I would ask my mom why she was telling me what she told me, and I wouldn't have asked my dad if my mom was telling me the truth. I guess in a way I know the truth and the truth has set me free. There is a Dolly Parton song about letting go because she's not fit for the person she loves but she will always love that person.

There are many ways my mom did right by me. It is from her I get my love of cooking and baking. She taught me to appreciate the simple things in life and not yearn for name brands when a store brand would suffice. She taught me to be respectful in church and if I didn't understand something, look it up in the dictionary. As I grew older, I went from looking up words in the dictionary to reading books, participating in studies and even having the courage to saying to the pastor "I don't understand what you meant."

She taught me that using public transit is a convenience, not a hassle. It wasn't until I was 12 years old she got a driver's license. My son, like his mom and uncle before him, goes to the library, the pool, the fitness center and other places by bus. I even say one of her Momisms. I find myself saying to my son "Don't worry you don't have the same toy as John or Jane, enjoy what you have."

That attitude carries over to my own life, especially now that I am 40 years old. I find more and more I understand what she meant when she said "Life isn't fair, life isn't unfair, life just is." I find when I treat life as is; it seems to go much smoother than when I worry about whether or not I am being unfair. Last night during the teaching time at church, Pastor Grant gave an inspirational message about the power of God. One of the questions he asked of the congregation is "How much of God are people getting when they get you." It made me think that the earthly life just is, but the Heavenly life is something that can be achieved if we work at.

I can't go back in time, my mom won't know about this, but I will. Happy Mother's Day Mom! I will always love you! The proverb that I have picked for today is a tribute to my mom’s love of knitting. Her love of wool work is why I enjoy to crochet.

Proverbs 31:19 She stretches out her hand to the distaff, and her hands to the spindle.

Happy Happy Ouch Ouch

I know the original song goes "Happy Happy Joy Joy" (yes there was a time in my life when I watched Rem and Stimpy) but with the way my morning went, the other version seems more accurate.

The first Happy: Nothing like going by a store the day before Mother's Day and seeing "Buy one, get one 50% off" to give a woman a great gift idea. The strange thing is it's a store I normally don't pay any attention to. Kidlet seemed puzzled how we going into a store meant I got a Mother's Day present

The first Ouch: The reason why I did what I did is because Big Lug is going to be working the whole weekend. That's not normal for our household. Unfortunately he didn't know until Wednesday he'd be working long hours the rest of the week which meant he hasn't had time to take Kidlet shopping for Mother's Day.

The second Ouch: Let me give you a tip regarding fitness centers. If they are advertising a 35 Day Extreme Body Makeover, focus on all the words, not just “35 Day Body Makeover". Let's just say halfway through the initial work out I found myself thinking "there is a reason why it's called Extreme." Thankfully by the end of it, I found myself thinking I could handle the next 34 days. Let's just say as I type this, I have finally come to understand that 1980's terms "feel the burn". This isn't just a cutesy chick thing; the group was 50/50 gender and age mix.

The second Happy: Since Kidlet seemed a bit disappointed he didn't get to pick me anything for Mother's Day, I told him while I was buying my bus tickets at Safeway he could go to the flower section and pick me out something. I didn't factor in that an almost 6 year old would just care about looks, not price. I'll be proper and post a picture of the flowers tomorrow. Suffice it to say I am now the proud owner of several gorgeous Pink and Red Azalea plants in a 6.5 inch pot.

Remember, even if it's a dollar store card or a long distance phone call, remember Mama by tomorrow. Here's something interesting to think about. Mother's Day is one of the Sunday's there is NOT a big league stock car race. God, Mama and Country are important to us Rednecks.

Proverbs 10:1 The proverbs of Solomon. A wise child makes a glad father: but a foolish child is the heaviness of his mother.

The Retrosexual Man

My tomboy streak is front and center today. I was originally going to do a tribute piece to my aunts since Mother's Day is fast approaching. I've changed my plans and decided to do a piece devoted to a special type of man, the sort of man that makes me think of what Redneck Males are truly about.

The RetroSexual Code:

A Retrosexual does not let neighbors screw up rooms in his house on national TV. A Retrosexual, no matter what the women insists, PAYS FOR THE DATE.

A Retrosexual opens doors for a lady. Even for the ones that fit that term only because they are female.

A Retrosexual DEALS with IT, be it a flat tire, break-in into your home, or a natural disaster, you DEAL WITH IT.

A Retrosexual not only eats red meat, he often kills it himself.

A Retrosexual doesn't worry about living to be 90. It's not how long you live, but how well. If you're 90 years old and still smoking cigars and drinking, I salute you.

A Retrosexual does not use more hair or skin products than a woman. Women have several supermarket aisles of stuff. Retrosexuals need an end cap (possibly 2 end caps if you include shaving goods.)

A Retrosexual does not dress in clothes from Hot Topic when he's 30 years old.

A Retrosexual should know how to properly kill stuff (or people) if need be. This falls under the "Dealing with IT" portion of The Code.

A Retrosexual watches no TV show with "Queer" in the title.

A Retrosexual should not give up excessive amounts of manliness for women. Some is inevitable, but major re-invention of yourself will only lead to you becoming a froo-froo little puss, and in the long run, she ain't worth it.

A Retrosexual is allowed to seek professional help for major mental stress such as drug/alcohol addiction, death of your entire family in a freak treechipper accident, favorite sports team being moved to a different city, or favorite bird dog expiring, etc. You are NOT allowed to see a shrink because Daddy didn't pay you enough attention to you. Daddy was busy DEALING WITH IT. When you screwed up, he DEALT with you.

A Retrosexual will have at least one outfit in his wardrobe designed to conceal himself from prey.

A Retrosexual knows how to tie a Windsor knot when wearing a tie - and ONLY a Windsor knot.

A Retrosexual should have at least one good wound he can brag about getting.

A Retrosexual knows how to use a basic set of tools. If you can't hammer a nail, or drill a straight hole, practice in secret until you can - or be rightfully ridiculed for the wuss you be.

A Retrosexual knows that owning a gun is not a sign that your are riddled with fear, guns are TOOLS and are often essential to DEAL WITH IT. Plus it's just plain fun to shoot.

Crying. There are very few reason that a Retrosexual may cry, and none of them have to do with TV commercials, movies, or soap operas. Sports teams are sometimes a reason to cry, but the preferred method of release is swearing or throwing the remote control. Some reasons a Retrosexual can cry include (but are not limited to) death of a loved one, death of a pet (fish do NOT count as pets in this case), loss of a major body part.

A Retrosexual man's favorite movie isn't "Maid in Manhattan" (unless that refers to some foxy French maid sitting in a huge tub of brandy or whiskey), or "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." Acceptable ones may include any of the Dirty Harry or Nameless Drifter movies (Clint in his better days), any Rambo, the Dirty Dozen, The Godfather trilogy, Scarface, The Road Warrior, The Die Hard series, Caddyshack, any Rocky, Full Metal Jacket, any James Bond Movie, Raging Bull, Bullitt, any Bruce Lee movie, Apocalypse Now, Goodfellas, Reservoir Dogs, Fight Club, etc.

When a Retrosexual is on a crowded bus and or a commuter train, and a pregnant woman, hell, any woman gets on, that retrosexual stands up and offers his seat to that woman, then looks around at the other so-called men still in their seats with a disgusted "you punks" look on his face.

A Retrosexual knows the words to O’ Canada and out of respect to American’s the Star Spangled Banner.

A Retrosexual will have hobbies and habits his wife and mother do not understand, but that are essential to his manliness, in that they offset the acceptable manliness decline he suffers when married/engaged in a serious healthy relationship - i.e., hunting, boxing, shot putting, shooting, cigars, car maintenance.

A Retrosexual knows how to sharpen his own knives and kitchen utensils.

A Retrosexual man can drive in snow (hell, a blizzard) without sliding all over or driving under 20 mph, without anxiety, and without high-centering his ride on a plow berm.

A Retrosexual man can chop down a tree and make it land where he wants. Wherever it lands is where he damn well wanted it to land.

A Retrosexual will give up his seat on a bus to not only any women but any elderly person or person in military dress (except officers above 2nd Lt) NOTE: The person in military dress may turn down the offer but the Retrosexual man will ALWAYS make the offer to them and thank them for serving their country.

A Retrosexual man doesn't need a contract -- a handshake is good enough. He will always stand by his word even if circumstances change or the other person deceived him.

A Retrosexual man doesn't immediately look to sue someone when he does something stupid and hurts himself. We understand that sometimes in the process of doing things we get hurt and we just DEAL WITH IT!!!!

This verse from Proverbs seems to fit in with the Retrosexual Man's code.

Proverbs 23: 16 KJV He that oppresseth the poor to increase his riches, and he that giveth to the rich, shall surely come to want.

On the Air

Back in July of 1998 Big Lug got reacquainted with an old friend. Robby-Roy was already at that age when you listen to mainly country music and told Hubby he should listen to Country 105’s Odd Squad for the laugh value. Due to Hubby occasionally giving me rides to the train station, I soon found myself listening to the Odd Squad instead of rock.

I started enjoying listening to Doug, Robyn, and Dan. When the office changed the location of the filing room I changed my mind about being too young to listen to country music all day. I needed a radio to break the quietness of the file room. At first I listened to a talk radio station. After an embarrassing minute when a 65 year old male co-worker listened to Dr. Laura talking to a woman whose husband had lost interest in love making, I realized I needed to listen to something else. Country music seemed like a safe choice and since I got lousy AM reception, I started listening to 105. Once Big Lug knew I was listening to Country 105 at work, he started paying attention to which country music acts were coming to Calgary. I knew I had truly become assimilated when I bought a Walkman to ensure I could listen to 105 during the commute to and from work.

When I got a cell phone it became fun to call into the Odd Squad on my way to work in the morning to chat. I started to feel like the radio announcers were my friends. As a way of saying thank you for making my day better or my nights less lonely, I would bring in some baking. The baking days came to an end when we moved to suburbia and started raising a family.

Country 105 became a lifeline to the outside world. There were even a few times when I’d call in to the night time radio announcer to thank him or her for helping make the late night feedings easier. They also helped me gain an insight into the redneck mentality and I helped enlightened them about the technogeek mentality.

Me: What is it about men and playoff beards?
Robyn: Over to you Dan.
Dan: Well this year I think the Flames are doing bad haircuts (laughter from all).
Me: As soon as it announced the Flames were in the playoffs my husband stopped shaving.
Odd Squad: (laughter)
Robyn//Doug/Dan: Oh that's just a superstition thing. Yeah, guys like to do that. I might even try it.
Me: I'm watching my husband scrape the truck window and he looks like a scruffy Nerfherder.
Odd Squad: silence that almost becomes dead air space.
Me: You know, from Star Wars Empire Strikes Back?
Odd Squad: Obviously we don't know Star Wars as well as you do, Gail
Me: Oh. Well having just outed myself as a technogeek, I'm going to gracefully wish you all a good morning and get off the phone.
Odd Squad: Laughter and general "Have a good day" comments.

I get off the phone, I'm blushing and thinking "Please God don't let them play the whole conversation." Next I'm beginning a countdown for the phone to ring after they play the whole conversation. Sure enough, just as I get to 3-2-1 Call Display shows Big Lug’s Cell Phone.

Big Lug: "Scruffy NERFHERDER?" laughter
Me: "Yeah yeah, now I'm hoping no one else we know was listening to Country 105."

Forty five minutes later the phone rings. This time call display shows it’s my husband phoning from work. The receptionist apparently greeted him with “good morning Mr. Nerfherder”.

After that, I stopped worrying about what I said when I phoned in to the Odd Squad, relaxed and let the real me shine. In addition to the Flames, the Odd Squad could also count on me to call in about the Stampeders and even stock car racing. I suspect at times Dan or Doug would try to bait me. I officially arrived the morning after I returned from a trip to Phoenix to watch all three NASCAR races. To my delight, I only had to wait four rings before the phone was picked up. Even more amazing, I heard Dan say “Heyyyyyyy Phoenix! How was your trip?” I could hear Doug talking to someone in the background. They kept me on the phone for almost four minutes. I kept listening to the radio, wondering what their plan was. They introduced the interview as “A Conversation with Crazy NASCAR Lady”. I am redneck enough to take great pride in that nickname.

Here is a recipe for all those who get up early in the morning to make people laugh, save lives, protect, and feed or cleanup for the public.

Breakfast Cookies

2 cups butter, at room temperature
2 cups brown sugar
4 eggs
¼ cup buttermilk
2 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups unbleached flour
4 cups rolled oats (large flake oats)
¼ cup bran
2 tsp baking soda
1 tbsp baking powder
¾ cup chocolate chips
¾ cup raisins
½ cup nuts (I use walnuts)

1. Preheat oven to 350
2. In a bowl cream butter and sugar. Beat in eggs, one at a time; mix in buttermilk.
3. In a separate bowl, combine whole wheat flour, unbleached flour, oats, bran, baking soda, baking powder, chocolate chips, and nuts until mixed. Stir into creamed mixture until well blended.
4. Scoop about ½ cup dough onto greased baking sheet, flattening into a cookie shape (these cookies don’t spread much). Bake for 15 to 20 minute or until golden brown. I kept these cookies in an airtight container for almost two weeks. At day 12 they still seemed as fresh as day one.

Proverbs 31:15 She rises while it is still night, and provides for her household, and a portion for others.

They rise while it is yet night, and provide for others.

Paraphrased in honour and memory of Corporal Michael Starker, former paramedic and reservist who died Tuesday May 6, 2008 in southern Afghanistan when his patrol came under fire during an ambush.

It's Hump Day!

It’s Hump Day! I’ve never been able to figure out why Wednesday is called Hump Day. Some people say it’s because it’s the middle of the week. My friend Kathie-Lee, however, claims it’s called Hump Day for a different reason in her house. Kathie-Lee and her husband Heehaw like to journal. At least that’s how Kathie-Lee encouraged Heehaw to write down his thoughts. When I told Kathie-Lee I was suffering from some writer’s block, she graciously shared with me their entries from last Wednesday.

As part of Worship Wednesday, Heehaw decided he’d take pleasure in all the things that Christ blessed him with during the day instead of focusing on the negative things that happened to him. Kathie-Lee, decided to take pleasure in her job of Domestic Engineer and not focus on the negatives as well as to be patient throughout the day.

The Diary of Heehaw

6:00 a.m. Coffee! My favourite thing!
6:30 a.m. A shower with Kathie-Lee! My favourite thing!
7:00 a.m. No traffic delays! My favourite thing!
7:40 a.m. Nashville Kat on Country 105! My favourite thing!
12:00 p.m. Lunch! My favourite thing!
12:30 p.m. A nooner! My favourite thing!
3:00 p.m. Tim Horton’s Donuts! My favourite thing!
5:00 p.m. Hamburgers and Home Fries! My favourite thing!
7:30 p.m. Read Lil Heehaw a bedtime story! My favourite thing!
8:00p.m. Wow! Watched TV with Kathie-Lee! My favourite thing!
10:00 p.m. Read NASCAR Scene! My favourite thing!

The Diary of Kathie-Lee:

Morning: I woke up to the sound of the coffee maker. Heehaw forgot to tell me he had it set to start at six. That thing sounds like it’s going to go into orbit and I can’t sleep through it. I figured as long as I was awake, I might as well have a shower with Heehaw and save some water. I think he was hoping we’d do more in the shower than get soapy. I turned up the radio at 7 a.m.. I’m glad Country 105 has a traffic helicopter. It makes it easier to get Heehaw out the door when he knows how the traffic is going in suburbia. The Odd Squad is doing great today. Nashville Kat was given some wrong information from Jeff Foxworthy. There is a city that does have a library with not only his book, but also five different sound recordings of his. You might be redneck eh if your library is well stocked with Foxworthy and it’s all signed out with requests. Heehaw said he’d probably be home for lunch. Lil Heehaw will be thrilled his daddy is comin home for lunch.

Afternoon: Heehaw came home for lunch. He was real complimentary about how much housework I did, the lunch I made and how I looked. Lil Heehaw enjoyed watching a kiddy show while Heehaw and I went into the bedroom. I think I’ll make Heehaw’s favourite supper tonight.

Dangit. Heehaw phoned me all excited because there were still some donuts left on his afternoon break. He knows I’m trying to lose some weight. I told him his stock car racing newspaper had arrived. It sure doesn’t take much to get him excited. I gotta remember to take the hamburger out to thaw. Lil Heehaw is bugging for Burgers and Tater tots. I’ll make oven fries because they are healthier and get some greens in Heehaw with a salad.

Evening: Heehaw decided I could do tub time and he’d read to Lil Heehaw. I love how he’s enlightened enough to parent instead of putting it all on me. We had fun tonight watching The Rick Mercer Report and Little Mosque on The Prairie. That PVR sure is a handy thing, letting us watch shows we’ve already recorded while recording something else. Heehaw just said “Hey Kathie-Lee, got something to share with you if you’ve got a sec.” I might as well go see what he wants to tell me about.

I need to remember the more interest I show in the latest breaking news on Jayskis; the longer Heehaw will share it with me. Oh well, at least I’ll sleep well.

Proverbs 12:2 A good person obtains favour of the Lord; but a person of wicked intentions will be condemned by the Lord.

Best of Intentions

Today's blog was initially going to be about how to improve your financial situation. Having just spent over $200 on day camps for Kidlet, I feel like I am on weak ground. Ever notice that the Frugal Living type books always talk about the virtues of taking your children for day trips to a park in a different neighbourhod, or a long bus ride, or take advantage of free programs the library offers or instead of the swimming pool, turn the sprinkler on. The Living on the Cheap gurus talk about taking your children for picnics in the park, exchanging families for a day to give the kids a change of pace or have the siblings pretend they are all the same age. Notice all those are pluralized? It's like the writers and authours assume if you have one child, you must have tons of money and can just put them in camp the whole summer. I understand for larger families it's not as much the cost because they budget for it as trying to find camps that will make three different kids three different ages happy or in one case, triples with different interests. After a few changes in plans due to typos, plus some input from my son, for one week in the mornings in July he will be in a Swim/Craft/Games type daycamp and in August I'll have the experience of being without my son all day for a week while he indulges his love of science. I'll just spend the rest of the spring and all of summer penny pinching to defray the cost.

There are some ways to save money. I call it the nickel and dime principle. I find it's not the loonie or twoonies that tend to make me go gosh darnit, its things like spending $1.35 for a small fruit salad at Safeway because I was rushed and forgot to grab an apple from the basket. I have another friend who realized that if she brought four ounces of cooked meat to work, she could swing by McDonald's, order small fries and a side salad, put the meat from home in the salad and get her junk food fix while saving a few bucks. Another man realized that by Supersizing his weekly junk food indulgence, he was doing himself out of about $30.00 a year. He took that $30.00 and used it to make a donation to Samaritan's Purse at Christmas time. It's easy to industriously go through eight different flyers to get the best price on electronics or vehicle parts. It's hard to think about the ninety-nine cents here, sixty cents there that can add up over the month. If you don't believe me, try for the next month to at least analyze how frequently you spent the extra forty cents getting something big or the few extra dollars because you didn't bring a snack from home.

I have a special eating lifestyle that is in part due to food intolerance, in part due to the fact after I did it for about three months I realized even with the cost of mainly organic food and supplements; I was still saving about $25-30 a month depending on how well I followed Ann Louise Gittleman's Fat Flush Plan. I never realized how much money Fat Flushing was saving me until someone mentioned how much granola bars, animal shaped crackers and her special fancy coffees cost her every time she went out with the kids. Thanks to Fat Flush, I would bring my own snacks from homes, which were usually fresh fruit or vegetables plus cheese for Kidlet and water flavoured with homemade cranberry juice for myself. Under the category of like mother, like son, both my son and I get just as sugar buzzed off full strength fruit juice as we would off pop.

I think God blesses us with the wisdom to know what we can safely eat and what we can't. We need to respect other people's eating lifestyles. For some people, it could just be wanting to live more frugally, for others it could be food intolerances or even allergies. As well, all over the Bible are mentions of not over indulging. I don't think going to Wendy's or McDonalds will send you straight to Hell, although your doctor might give you Hell for eating places like that on a daily basis but I do believe that God would like us to think before we open our pocketbook or whip out our bank card to make a food purchase.

Proverbs 6:6-8 Go to the ant, you sluggard! Consider her ways and be wise, which having no captain, overseer or ruler, provides her supplies iin the summer and gathers her food in the harvest.

Thomas Trip

My feet ache because I spent five hours walking around Heritage Park. My lower back aches because of the backpack and my neck aches because of the big camera. There is a set of muscles in my right thigh that are telling me I could have done a better job perching on a fence post to get the perfect picture of a train. This morning forty-five minutes after I woke up, I found myself using math skills to calculate how to duplicate an engineer lantern. I'm not the only one who is feeling the morning after the day before. Big Lug's feet ache, hands ache, lower back aches and he even has a matched set of blisters on his hands.

For me, Thomas the Tank Engine is in Calgary. Kidlet and I had an excellent time with my best friend and her son. Big Lug, on the other hand, can hold his head high; puff out his chest and give a Tim Allen grunt for working together with one of his buddy's to build a new gate. I love Big Lug dearly but when it comes to home improvement, let's just say he's no Bob Villa. Thankfully he has the good sense to realize this and make friends with guys who are Bob Villa.

Sunday felt like a truly God blessed day, with good weather, everything going reasonably smoothly and time spent with fellow Christians. It's nice to sit underneath a tree in a public park and have a child say grace before eating lunch or to know that two men working together aren't going to get drunk off beer, just sugar buzzed off pop. Of course if it was a hot summer day, there would have been a few beer consumed but the men wouldn't have used the home renovations as an excuse to get drunk.

As for the health issues, Big Lug and I both know the best way to get rid of the aches is to carefully work the feet and back muscles as well as take it easy with our hands. We are also firm believers in the healing power of prayer, combined with the wisdom God blesses us with. It is thanks to His healing power and gift of wisdom that enabled us to have a day like yesterday. For many weeks I was sick. I had to humble myself, swallow my pride and ask God for help. The direction He guided me in was a difficult one for someone who believes in natural healing first and foremost. I am grateful to the doctors who have helped me on the road to health, along with God guiding me to people and things that will help what the doctors and nurses are doing for me. That's what makes yesterday so special. I was healthy enough to spend five hours with my son, in the outdoors, feeling God's power sustaining me on a physical, mental and emotional level.

Proverbs 15:3 The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.

We are Stories

Last night during the teaching time at my church, I heard a wonderful concept from Pastor Terry. First he opened with a brief history of First Alliance Church and closed with a verse from 2 Corinthians 10 about how we should not boast of ourselves but of the Lord and a reminder that all we do is done through God. That serves as a reminder for me not to get too proud about my writing but to remember it is a God given talent.

I have heard from those who believe we evolved from primordial ooze, and those who quote scripture that clearly states man was created from dirt by God, and woman was created from Adam’s rib to ensure she knew her place was not above him, not below him but beside him as his Ezer Kenegdo. If you really look at those two ideas, they aren’t too different. Who is to say God didn’t take primordial ooze and over His days which definitely can’t be compared to our 24 hour days, evolve them to what we now know as human beings? On the other hand having watched enough stock car races, hockey games and football games, I can understand why some people believe we evolved from apes. Yes I will plead guilty; my mind did wander a bit during the teaching time. Thankfully when I realized it was drifting, I prayed to God to help me stay focus on what the service was.

Pastor Terry had begun to talk about how we need to realize we are each part of a story and we need to identify our story. There was no way after that my mind did any wandering. I love the concept that I should look at my story line as though it is a letter from Christ to the world. It makes me realize that my words, my actions, my very attitude are a testimony for better or worse to the Living God. It helped my self esteem to realize I was a letter written on a human heart of love and life in Christ Jesus. I know I will never achieve perfection but to realize the Author’s intention is that my story, your story, our story is Christ’s desire for me, you and us to be a masterpiece is inspirational during times when I feel unworthy or unsure of how to handle a situation.

I got the term Ezer Kenegdo from John and Stasi Eldredge’s book Captivating. It is a very beautiful, well written, empowering book that inspired me to rise above a less than stellar past and realize that no matter what the past is it is the present God cares about. During a Captivating retreat I had many moments when I felt it was not my hand writing, but my hand being guided by God. I recently had someone on a message board heckle me to quit writing about crap I didn’t know anything about and write about what I did know. After my heart quit hurting, God told me that person was right. Now when I write, I pray to God, and let Him control the storyline.

Proverbs 28:25 He that is of a proud heart stirs up strife: but he that puts his trust in the Lord shall be made wise.