Thursday, July 28, 2005

Note to Self

What you think is a sealed Rubbermaid container full of dried food and what a mouse thinks is a sealed container are two vastly different things. Remember this for next year so you don't have to restock your camping food at the very last second.

Oh and my three readers? I'm gone till the 9th.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

Two different reviews of the same book

I bought Walter Wangerin Jr's "The Book of the Dun Cow."

Here's an excerpt from a review I found here.
"Part of the appeal of The Book of the Dun Cow is that anyone picking it up can derive a certain satisfaction from a surface reading alone. Biblical and theological knowledge are not necessary, since the plot and narrative are clear and straightforward. The symbolism is there for those who know to look for it, however, just as it is in Lewis' Narnia books, and knowledge of that background adds another level of enjoyment and meaning to Dun Cow, which is ultimately a tale of sacrifice and redemption. Beyond the obvious religious symbolism, however, is an additional layer Wangerin has woven into the text which makes the book shine for me all the more. He has taken mythology and made it work for him..."

Here's my review:

Icky book. Maybe I'm not smart enough to get it, and I'm sorry about that, Walter Wangerin Jr, because I really liked Mourning Into Dancing.

Why blog?

So that when you decide that you need a bubble bath because it's better than running, naked and screaming, down the street tearing out great handfulls of hair, and you go and get yourself a clean towel after you have started running the bath, and thrown in the tub truffle, so the water is nice and greasy, and then you toss the towel casually towards the back of the bathtub, and it misses the back of the tub entirely and lands in the water, and you're standing there watching the last clean towel sink, you don't have to lose your mind. You can comfort yourself with "at least I can blog this."

Thursday, July 21, 2005

Worth Reading

This post, on Angela Hunt's blog:

And this one.

What She Said

line from a song on Carolyn Arends new CD:

"May you live all the days of your life."

I been readin'

and what a lovely load of books I've found this time. And all at the Christian bookstore, because I think God has decided I shut right up about how hard it is to find good Christian fiction.

Some treasures:

The Note, by Angela Hunt. An intriguing mystery, likeable characters, and Angela avoids the temptation have everyone either converted or hit by a bus before the last chapter. Angela is very good at this. Others of hers that I have loved are The Awakening and The Canopy.

Wind, by Calvin Miller. There are no words to tell you how much I love Calvin Miller. A favourite line "Yet most mornings came wrapped in sunlight, which made the future take on the look of possibility." I bought another one of his tonight, and closed it after three pages because I want it to last forever.

Like A Watered Garden, by Patti Hill. A fresh metaphor that intrigued the poet in me on PAGE ONE. I stayed up all night reading this book, not because the plot was so compelling, but because I was really enjoying spending time with the people. Character-driven, not plot-driven.

Dragonspell and Dragonquest, by Donita K Paul. I have a soft spot for fantasy, because you get to write larger than life, and write about absolutes, and because anything is possible and because the only limitations are how extraordinary ordinary people can dare to be. Sort of like life, without the dishes and laundry.

I e-mailed Patti Hill today to tell her how much I liked her book and she answered me! This delighted me beyond words. Donita Paul also answered my e-mail, months ago when I sent one begging for a sequel to Dragonspell. Angela Hunt has yet to notice my comment on her blog, though :)

Cyberspace - oh the people you'll meet :)

Monday, July 18, 2005


"God may reduce you
on Judgment Day
To tears of shame,
reciting by heart
The poems you would
have written, had
Your life been good."

W.H. Auden

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

The horror!

Bought a new CD by a favourite artist the other day home, popped it in, settled down to listen. Song #3 - it happened. On the lyric sheet it's SPELLED "jewelry" but blasting through my living room, it was definitely "jew-le-ree".

Even typing that made me wince.

Monday, July 11, 2005

Just in case you need to know ...

Beauty is ...

a suntanned, mosquito bitten, curly pig-tailed gum chewing 9 year old girl, wearing a tie dyed scarf, a three inch wide black and white leather bracelet, a turquoise "strappy" shirt, green camo capris and muddy running shoes; carrying a small red backpack, an enormous tissue paper flower, and a stuffed yellow denim-overall-clad teddy bear her parents won playing skeeball in Hong Kong 5 years before she born; running towards you at the airport after 6 days at summer camp.

Especially if it's your 9 year old girl.

Lifted from someone else's blog ...

Was just over at "I was just thinking" ...This is so random and weird it *totally* appealed to me.

1. Grab the closest book to you
2. Open to page 54
3. Find the seventh sentence
4. Post said sentence to your blog and leave me a comment so I can see it. (alternative: leave the sentence here in comments so we can all read them without hopping all over the Internet)

And the sentence is ...

" 'He who steals my cup becomes my slave' ", she laughed.

Go on! Do it! You know you want to! TechnoBoy, you can play too! give us a line from a .Net manual! And Laurie the avid, largely silent reader of this blog, if you don't do this, I'll ...I'll ...I'll ...I'll tell everyone about the CAT.

An Invitation

For those of you who are writers (and admit it! you know who you are!) - speaking of losing your favourite lines, can you think of one you had to ax? Here are two of mine:

"The dusk calls me to come wander through its shrouded silence." Still gives me chills.

And here's a whole stanza that I loved that everyone else just went "Um ...huh?"

"Stormfront and daybreak collide
consume each other
become the terrible beauty that binds
the three of us

Your turn. Mongoose, feel free to make one up. (Unless you ARE a writer and you never told me)

Oops, almost did it again

Almost blogged a nascent poem and killed it right off. But I can tell you the line the first draft will almost certainly contain that won't make it to the last draft, because you ALWAYS have to lose your favourite lines!

"...the transparent jewel of rainwater
cupped in a nasturtium leaf."

Friday, July 08, 2005

Now there's a thought.

Dropping by this blog today, I found an entry entitled "Waylaid by Beauty" that delighted me. Go read it. And be sure to click the link to read Edna St Vincent Millay's poem, Assault, as well.

Thursday, July 07, 2005

with apologies to my American friends

Oh shut up, George Bush. There's the slimmest of chances that this is not all about you.

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

It's a valid question

There were paper clippings on the kitchen floor earlier tonight. How did they get there? Why is this a house full of people who don't think of taking the five extra steps to the trash can when they cut out a family picture for their daughter to tuck into her Bible and look at when she's far away at Bible Camp? (ok maybe there's only one of me here) Someone else who lives here who shall remain nameless asked this very question. I had no good answer. HOWEVER ...

Later, as I was trying to clean up the dishes around the house, I walked into the kitchen, and in the process of trying to put popcorn kernels in the trash, managed to spill all the popcorn kernels AND a half-empty glass of water on the floor. I went to put something in the fridge and noticed that the guinea pig's spinach had become liquid in the crisper while I forgot about it, and took the crisper out to clean it. It's too big for the sink, so I balanced it and filled it with water and then realized the crisper is not waterproof. (why not, Maytag people? what is up with that?) Water mixed with liquified spinach cascaded to the floor. I turned and walked out of the kitchen, climbed into bed, pulled the covers up over my head, and sobbed.

So that clears up the mystery of how THAT particular mess happened.


A flew two provinces east yesterday, by herself, to go to Bible Camp with her cousins. She'll only be gone for six sleeps but it's an odd feeling to be down to one child for that long.

She was so great. She's just such a confident young thing. The airline gave her a huge pouch to hang around her neck, with the letters V.I.P. on it (HUGE amount of mommy-comfort there!!) Told her it stood for Very Important Person. I tried to back off as much as possible and let her do her own checking in and handling of her passport, etc. While we were waiting for her to board the plane, eating our Tim Horton sandwiches, she turned to me and said "I think this should stand for Very Independent Person."

The only clue that this might be a tiny bit un-nerving as well as wildly exciting is that I could make suggestions about where to put her passport so she wouldn't lose it, etc, etc, without frustrating her. It was a fun day, taking her there, and then she called a few hours after her flight landed and chattered away about the flight.

Where has the time gone?

Friday, July 01, 2005

Also, you should find this sweet, even if you're cranky and cynical

Walked outside this morning and B was sitting on the sidewalk, next to the flowers he planted. Just enjoying the fruits of his labour.


The creeping jenny is blooming!

It shouldn't be, because my friend BTW (otherwise known as BWP) dug it out of her garden two weeks ago and I didn't plant it for a week and that was just a week ago and it should be doing what a lot of my other donated perennials are doing (ie pining for home and the good life and the way it used to be) but it is BLOOMING.

It's getting an award for "most enthusiastic transplant" of 2005.