Be Strong and Take Heart

What to do when:

• Your husband has left a full time teaching job at a small private school
• There are no job prospects for you in your field in this small rinkydink town
• Your field is becoming an accredited profession and your job prospects are quickly fading because you won't have enough education and certification by 2015 (this is a good thing- it's about time it's recognized as a profession!), thanks to the governing board
• You're getting the "itch" for something new
• Your finances will be running out at the end of July with no prospect of employment at present (and not for lack of sending out millions of resumes with half a million interviews!)

We seem to find ourselves in this "what do we do now" situation quite often.  We were told it was because we wouldn't "settle down" and work and establish ourselves.  So we've done that.  And our prospects look even bleaker than when we were gypsies.  Stuck.  So something big needs to change.  And with that comes fear.  Because there is no task more terrifying than uprooting and re-establishing.  It takes a brave soul, and it seems that since "settling down," my soul has become complacent and pasty-white; like a sheltered, feeble old man.  It used to be tanned and leathery and full of life and stories like a weathered adventurer.  Sadly, I've become a pansy.  

SO, with all of the uncertains and the wide-open options looming before us, I take heart from these verses, and turn my soul back to the adventure, bracing myself for the wild and precious path set before me:

Psalm 31:1-3, 24

"In you, Lord, I have taken refuge;

let me never be put to shame;

deliver me in your righteousness.

Turn your ear to me, 

come quickly to my rescue;

be my rock of refuge,

a strong fortress to save me.

Since you are my rock and my fortress, 

for the sake of your name lead and guide me.

Be strong and take heart,

all you who hope in the Lord."

Old Piano Music

As I've been decluttering my house, I've stumbled across some old memories.  This one made me chuckle: it's my first piano book.  I remember the Christmas I got it- I think I was 6 or 7, and the book was wrapped inside my hard, pink, plastic suitcase (which was for storing my Barbie clothes).  It was an exciting moment.  

Here's the little gem!  The book that started it all.  The book that started my Dad's hair turning gray (admittedly, it may have been my fault for insisting that "Home on the Range," written with both hands playing in the treble clef, should be played with the left hand in the bass clef, following the notes on the lower staff as though they were written in the bass clef.  It sounded awful.).  The book that started the days of playing where Mom would yell at me to "Get off the piano!  You've been on there for two and a half hours!"  The book that started me towards my most fulfilling hobby and opened the key to my soul: music.

Inside the front cover, I had traced my hand.  See the size difference now?  I used to buy rings from the dollar store with my saved-up allowance, and that may be what was on my finger at the time.  I used to pretend they were real rubies and sapphires.

For those of you who don't know, my index and middle fingers were caught in the apartment door when I was 9 months old (wind gust), which is why my hand doesn't look quite normal.  I'm missing the index finger above the middle knuckle and my middle finger's top knuckle is fused together crookedly and can't bend.  So, it's not an alien hand.  It's a "life happened" hand.  However, it hasn't stopped me from playing the piano, violin, viola, playing volleyball, etc.  The only challenge has been the guitar, but if Jimmy Hendrix can play backwards, so can I.  Someday, just you wait...

For some reason, I felt I needed to document my progress: "DONE"  I pretended to be a piano teacher...teaching myself.  I never claimed to be a normal child...

Evidence of younger siblings...

I remember writing this on the blank certificate in the back of the book.  I aced thought I had aced all the songs in the book, so when I started lessons with Miss Buchanan in 1993, I wanted her to know that I had finished this book and that Dad had taught me.  A kid can only play "Song of the Volga Boatmen" so many times before they feel they need to move on...and I felt that I needed to move on to something new.  To my chagrin, she made me relearn some of the songs correctly (the more advanced ones that I self-taught) before I could actually move on to the Royal Conservatory series.

This page made me laugh the hardest: "I don't like it when you put done down on paper."  Apparently the "Teacher Bobbi" that day didn't like the fact that "Student Bobbi" had previously written "DONE" on the song.  Like I said...no claims on being a normal child.  I lived in my own happy world...

And lastly, scratched out: "Practiss This" before Student Bobbi wrote "DONE" (obviously rebelling against Teacher Bobbi).  

What gems have you stumbled across recently?  Any funny memories?

Theme Day Thursday

"Taste and see that the Lord is good.  Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him!"

I've tasted and I've seen this week, especially around my home:

1.  The delightful smell of these tulips- they smell just like the roses in Willis and Doreen's backyard when I was a girl.  I can hear the squeaky garden gate swinging closed behind me and the heavenly sweet smell of their rose bushes greeting me along with the old smiles from the front porch and the cheerful hellos.

2.  The romantic colours in this tulip.

3.  Strawberries.  Edible (organic and on sale!) and decoration.

4.  Friends and family, near and dear, on my fridge.  

5.  Bouquets of flowers fresh from the garden, mixed with thyme because it was green and twiggy.

6.  The view from my kitchen window.

7.  Turquoise glass jars.

8.  My gingerbread porch with cozy chairs and pretty flower boxes.  

What has God blessed you with this week around your home? 

About Going Squirrelly (and the finished quilt)

The man next door feeds the neighbourhood squirrels.  I could shoot them...the squirrels and the old man.  Not really, but I do scare the squirrels away from my sunflowers with fake snakes from the dollar store.  Works like a charm.  Anyways, squirrels like to hoard things that they think they might need.  Like food (yeah, I guess it's important to their livelihood, but I just wish they'd stay out of my gardens!).  Lately I've been hoarding fabric and have felt a bit squirrelly in doing so.  There have been some fabulous sales and there are little people in my life that need a quilt to start their childhood correctly (my theory, not fact).  But I'm thankful that I'm different from my neighbourhood squirrels: I share.  If you would like a quilt or a nifty little gift, I'd be happy to share my resources with you instead of chase you out of a tree or bite your tail or shriek and natter at you.  Here's what I've been storing away:  

A certain little rosy-cheeked Bellyanna is deserving of these perfectly girly colours.  The bottom fabric is the flannelette for the back.

Is it a boy?  Is it a girl?  If it's a boy, the darker blue will stay.  If it's a girl, a splash of sunshine will be a cheerful addition.

I've been squirreling away my prom dress from Grade 12, in hopes that maybe one day, I could fit it again.  Pff.  That's hilarious.  When I was 17, I didn't have hips or boobs and I had triceps and lats that could rival any boy.  Things are different now: I have curves.  My upper arms are still the same size, but now it's all flub instead of muscle.  And I'll never lose my curves.  Plus, I grew an extra 2 inches taller between prom and now.  So...in a nutshell, I took apart my prom dress over this past winter and am going to make a quilt out of it.

Can you spot the prom dress fabric?  The colour on the bottom didn't come out as nicely in the picture as it is in real life- it's a nice turquoise instead of a grassy green.  Maybe it looks different on your screen? I've been squirreling away bits and bobs of fabric when they go on sale or if I see a used cotton tablecloth that would match...soon I'll have enough to start cutting the fabric!  I'm hoping to use this pattern with a white background.

I left the dress liner in tact.  Oh, memories.

Not quite sure who this will be for, but aren't they bright and cheery colours?

So here's my hoard to sew and give away (with a pile to keep).  What do you collect or squirrel away?  Please tell me I'm not the only one who's squirrelly about something. :)

As promised, here's the finished quilt.  Taken from 6'6" up in the air...which is why I look like a midget.  Please excuse the messy hair- I was distracted by the lovely spring evening...

Isn't evening sun gorgeous for photos?

Happy Squirreling!

Theme Day

My theme verse for this blog is "Taste and see that the Lord is good.  Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in Him!" (Psalm 34:8) So, in the spirit of the theme of my blog, I bring you this post: a post chock-full of April goodness, graciously gifted from my Father above.

1.  I'm thankful for chocolate pudding.

"What's not to like?  Custard?  Good.  Jam?  Good.  Meat?  Gooooood."  (Joey from Friends)  Every day, I have a Friends quote pop into my head.  Today, it was that one.  Because, my dear friend, what's not to like?  Avocado?  Good.  Cocoa?  Good.  Pudding?  Goooooood.  Here's the recipe for this delicious dairy-free, gluten-free pudding (final product shown below).

Chovocado Pudding

1 ripe avocado, peeled and pitted

1/4 cup cocoa powder

1/4 cup liquid natural sweetener (I use agave nectar, but you could use honey or maple syrup)

1/4 cup almond milk

1 tsp vanilla extract

Blend it all together and serve chilled.  In these photos, I doubled the recipe.

2.  I'm thankful for empty laundry baskets and my own washing machine.  

3.  I'm thankful for a somewhat sedated Mr. Bendy (and a wonderful man with a sense of humour!).

4.  I'm thankful for spring sun-showers and rainbows.  Because I'm a girl, and girls love rainbows and ponies and sunshine and pretty things.

5.  I'm thankful for sand and seashells on the floor of my car.  It reminds me that God is good and that he gave us a beautiful stretch of weather to spend at the beach, where I always see God's goodness.  Beaches are good like that.

6.  I'm thankful for green grass and sandal weather.  

7.  I'm thankful for baby robins and pretty blue eggs.  See point #4 about pretty things and ponies.

8.  I'm thankful for textures and contrast and busy beavers who stack wood in such nifty piles.  By busy beavers, I mean Stretch, who never ceases to amaze me.

9.  I'm thankful for dandelions and dreams of shrinking down to bug-size and bouncing on soft, pillowy, yellow dandelion heads and taking a nap right in the middle of the sunshiny goodness.

10.  I'm thankful for a tidy workspace/craft nook and for green walls.

11.   I'm thankful for an organized and de-cluttered room and for an artistic mom who paints such lovely pictures of my favourite flowers.

12.  Because I can't leave the goodness count at an odd number, I'm thankful for pre-made salads at Metro on the days that I don't have the energy to make something healthy.  

What are you thankful for this month?  How have you seen God's goodness in your life?

Note to Self

Dear Future Bobbi,

This is Present-Day Bobbi (who will, by the time you read this, be Old Bobbi).  I'm just writing to remind you of the countless headaches you caused yourself while sewing a quilt for yourself.  Now, just in case you forget what caused your headaches, I'm writing a list so that you'll remember for next time:

• ALWAYS cut your fabric exactly the right size.  Not "almost" the right size.  Exactly the right size.  Not even an 1/8th of an inch off.  You'll end up with wonky blocks and a headache, trying to re-stitch the seams so that they line up "almost" correctly.  
• ALWAYS sew your blocks using a Quarter-Inch Foot on your sewing machine.  You don't sew in a straight line...and probably never will, mainly because you forget to set the speed control on your machine and just zip right along.  A quarter-inch foot will always give you a quarter-inch seam, which will in turn, help you avoid wonky blocks and a headache.
• Check your speed control button.  See above.  Although it may be fun to pretend you're a professional seamstress who knows what she's doing, you do, in fact, not know what you're doing. Don't get cocky.  Slow down or you'll stitch your shirt sleeve to the fabric in your haste to get who-knows-where.  Good thing you don't drive your car like your sewing machine.  
• When you quilt your sandwich, always sew from the middle, out.  This helps avoid bunching and headaches.
• Remember that, on some days, there is no limit to the number of times you can be jabbed by pins.  Don't swear, even though it makes you feel better.  If you really want to get rid of your headache, just poke your finger with a pin, and it will take your mind off the headache.  And remember that the next day, God will probably have given the Devil back his pin-poking-restrictions and you'll hum along, tickety-boo, with no pin-pricks.
• When you calculate your binding, remember that you need FOUR TIMES the width of fabric that you think you do.  If you want a 2-inch binding on the front, you'll probably need 2 inches on the back, too.  That means 4 inches.  BUT HERE'S THE THING: you need to fold your binding in half, so if you want this 2-inch pretty green strip (or whatever colour) around the front of your quilt, you'll need a raw binding that's 8-inches wide.  Somehow you always forget this.
• Have chocolate on hand for those headachey days.  

Sincerely, 

Bobbi

Never In A Million Years

Have you ever done something that you never expected to do?  Something that sideswiped you completely and caught you off guard enough to strike you as absolutely hilarious?  I had that happen to me this week.  I buried somebody.  Literally.  I had help.  Well, technically, I was the help.  

My new friend Robin and I were supposed to get together this week at her place for lunch and a visit.  She called me yesterday and awkwardly explained the situation.  Today, while we were graveside, she told me that she had rehearsed the speech and had it down pat, but when she spoke with me on the phone, it was such a hilariously awkward thing to ask a new friend, that her perfect speech crumbled under the pressure.  It made my day that a friend would even consider me for such a quirky adventure!  So, the back-story: her in-laws care for a cemetery, and while they were away, Robin's husband was responsible for making the burial arrangements for this funeral.  He dug the grave last night by hand (which seems like a surreal amount of work!) and Robin volunteered to fill it in so that he wouldn't have to take more time off work.  They have a toddler, and so she called me to see if I would watch B while she filled in the grave.  I told her I would help, and if B was sleeping, I would help fill in the grave.  

So, today dawned sunny and warm...a perfect day for burying somebody.  Neither of us had ever done this before, and the guy with the winch on his truck had only been doing it for a few weeks: what a team!  His comment before he left cracked me up: "So you girls have your whole afternoon free?"  Haha...I guess he saw the big pile of dirt and the two girls with a toddler!  So funny.  

I helped put the cement lid on the vault, and here's Robin helping to put the vault in the ground:

  

Robin's such a trooper!  She did the majority of the work while I watched B when she woke up from her nap in the car.  I definitely got the easy job!  I also can't believe how straight her husband got the edges of the hole!  We were impressed!  Phil, I hope you enjoyed your ice cream and ginger ale! :)  You deserved it!

So while the winch guy was lifting the vault (which he said weighed about 700lbs plus the weight of the casket and body and flowers), part of the grave wall caved in from the weight of everything.  The pictures don't do it justice, but the boom that stuck out off of his truck to stabilize it, started to sink into the soft ground about 2.5-3 feet away from the grave.  The dirt is all sand, so the weight caused the wall to buckle and the sand crumbled in, while leaving the top 2-3 feet of sod and dirt still in tact.  You can see the crater from the truck boom in the picture above, and the cave-in below:

Robin was able to fill it all in afterwards, and the winch guy was able to shovel most of the dirt back into the hole in the wall before he lowered the vault down.  I was kind of worried that the ground was going to cave in while he was finally lowering the vault down, but everything worked out!  Whew.  That could have been awkward...

Here's me while B was sleeping still.  Proof. :)

Robin packing down the soil.

B playing with bubbles!  By the way, using a funnel is a great idea for children too young to direct their air at a small bubble wand- it helps direct their wind into blowing a bubble.  

The end result.  Not sure if we did it right, but we followed Phil's instructions, and thought of movie scenes or real-life experiences (which weren't many!) about how it should look.  The mound was higher than it looks...hopefully not too high?  It will settle though.  And laying the sod back on top was like doing a puzzle- Robin was a pro!  We all stomped it down and tried to make it not so lumpy.  There was so much dirt left over- who knew?!  

So what do two girls talk about or think about while filling in a grave?

• Robin: "I wonder what the body looks like?  They died in the winter, you know..."
• Bobbi: "Isn't that sound awful (the sound of dirt thudding on the vault)?  I would freak out if I was being buried alive and I heard that sound." Robin: "Uma Thurman used [some funky hand thing] to dig herself out of a grave in Kill Bill."  Robin then showed me the funky hand thing on the neighbouring headstone.
• Robin: "Do people actually get buried alive?" Bobbi: "I think if you're an enemy of the mafia, maybe.  Or in an Alfred Hitchcock movie."
• Bobbi (thinking): "Johnny English danced and stomped on a casket, just like Robin is doing right now on the vault to pack the dirt down.  Don't laugh.  Don't laugh.  She's a new friend and she'll think you're weird.  Don't laugh.  "You- the grieving granny?  Real tears?  Do you get paid extra for that?  Oh...you've nailed it down.  *stomp stomp shimmy* Why would you do that?  I know you're going to come back in a few weeks and dig it up..."  "Mind the nice dead people..." DON"T LAUGH!"
• What a nice day it was!
• And other random, nice, pleasantries.  Mostly on sweet Robin's part, because I was too busy internally, trying not laugh at the adventure I found myself on today or at Johnny English quotes and images running through my head.  I hope I was able to carry on a decent conversation!

Robin, did I miss anything?  I had a wonderful time today.  If you ever need help digging a grave or burying somebody, I hope I'll be the first one you call. :)

So, dear Reader, what hilarious thing have you done that you never expected to do?

Mr. Bendy's Twisted Week

As part of my family Easter tradition, my mom hides something(s) for us kids to find.  We're not really kids any more.  Except when it comes to things like this.  Anyways, because I'm avoiding dairy and gluten, mom had to find a few more creative things for me to find instead of the chocolate easter eggs.  So enter the Bendable Plant Ties...or Mr and Mrs Bendy from this point on until Kingdom Come.  I found them high-fiving each other on the backyard tree, excited about coming home with the coolest person in the world.  Obviously.

Now, Mr Bendy apparently feels left out and less-of-a-man because he can't go to work like Stretch.  I don't know why he feels this way...Mrs Bendy told me, and I told her that it was a silly notion and that women love their husbands for who they are, not for their job.  She agreed.  But on Tuesday morning, when Stretch was closing the door behind him, Mr Bendy took a flying leap off the counter and clung for dear life to the doorknob.  Not quite sure what his plan was after landing on the doorknob.  He has puny little arms and I don't think he could open a people-sized door.  (Mrs Bendy says to tell you that she likes his arms.)  Anyways, when I came downstairs, Mr Bendy was stuck in this most compromising position.  Before I heard the true story, I originally thought he was mooning the Mrs who was across the kitchen, watching the whole ordeal from her perch on the curtain rod:

Wednesday morning, Mr Bendy woke up and decided that he could do some work around the house.  "No sense lying around and mooching off of people like the polka-dotted dog that runs the place.  Might as well pull our weight around here, Mrs Bendy!  Up and at 'em!"  So he got to work.  He claimed that he knew how to service furnaces (after we told him that ours was still acting up), but I'm not so sure.  He insisted that the furnace was inside the thermostat and proceeded to pull the thermostat off the wall.  He realized his mistake afterwards and I took him downstairs to show him where the furnace actually was.  Mrs Bendy told me he was complaining during the night about how cold it was in our house (we keep it at 16 C), so I'm guessing that this was his attempt to tell us.  That night, I showed him where the extra blankets were, and we haven't had any problems since.  Except for when he went to try and fix Stretch's broken laptop screen...

Mrs. Bendy has been taking everything in stride.  She helped Stretch change the water kefir on Wednesday.  Mr. Bendy came to look at the kefir on Thursday and decided to sit on top and enjoy Mrs. Bendy's handiwork.  Little did he know that when I took his picture, the bubbles had started to form in the kefir and Ricki and I had a good laugh about a cheap man's jacuzzi... and how it looked like Mr Bendy was farting in the kefir... and that we hoped he didn't get the bends (haha) from the extra gas...you had to have been there...it was funny.

Turns out that Thursday was a bit of a Jonah day.  A twisted day.  An "I-want-to-go-back-to-bed" kind of day.  After his rest on top of the kefir, Mr Bendy felt a bit cooped up.  Mrs Bendy said he gets like that in the spring...he gets antsy waiting for the plants to grow tall enough so that he can get to work...you know, tying up the plants.  Anyways, he began jumping from the back of the couch to the bookshelf to the piano.  Then he cartwheeled across the floor and climbed the hutch.  From the hutch to the desk to the filing cabinet to the pretty little mobile.  I had a little chat with him while he was hanging there about tangling the strings and how difficult it was to make the mobile (which it wasn't really). When I turned to go back into the kitchen, he must have swung up to the  door frame and tried to walk across it.  However, his toe got stuck and he fell flat on his nose, upside down.  Mrs Bendy and I came running when we heard his hollers for help.  He calmed down a bit after that.  I think it was Mrs Bendy's scolding that screwed his head back on straight for the good part of the afternoon.

Mrs. Bendy and I continued cooking in the kitchen.  Gluten-free cooking takes a lot of your attention.  Unfortunately, that meant we had to leave Mr Bendy to his own devices and he began to get mischievous again.  He should have just stayed in bed, I'm tellin' ya!  Or maybe we should have just left him stuck in the door.  We finally put him to work retrieving things from the baking cupboard and putting them back when we were done with them.  When he was putting the baking powder back (it was a heavy little bag!), he got stuck in the door.  Poor fella.  He decided that he was going to find something better to do.  Mrs. Bendy and I were so caught up in our cooking, that we didn't fully comprehend the extent of his words...

Turns out, "something better" meant pondering the difficult questions of life.  Questions like "Why don't people get sick more on The Scrambler ride at the County Fair," or "What IS a Dutch Oven (aside from a cooking pot) and why is it called that and why does it describe so many things" and "Will I fit in the small hole in Bobbi's nifty wall decoration?"  You know.  Difficult questions.  By difficult, I mean stupid.  And by stupid, I mean "Mr. Bendy is twisted."  We left him there until Stretch got home.  Stretch dealt with him.

Later that evening, we were watching Hogan's Heroes and all was calm.  Until Ricki started walking funny.  Turns out Mr Bendy just had one more ounce of feist in him.  It's the first (and hopefully last) time anybody has ever ridden Ricki.  We had to give her lots of petting and treats...she threatened to get rid of her polka dots if we didn't placate her and smooth over the indignity of the situation.  Later that night, as we were heading upstairs, we overheard Mr Bendy tell Mrs Bendy while they were tucked into bed that he wanted a cowboy hat for his birthday.  We also overheard Mrs Bendy pray that Mr Bendy would find a real job soon.

Friday morning, as Stretch was about to head out the door for school, we saw Mr Bendy determined to get out of the house and not to be left out anymore...