Christmas wonders

I hope that you know what Christmas is really about. With all the talk I hear of Santa and elves, of shopping, and family, of gifts and food, and all the trappings, I have noticed that it is sometimes difficult to remember exactly or really know why we celebrate Christmas.

Don't get me wrong, I have some fairly vivid memories of Santa showing up at my house Christmas eve, encouraging me and my siblings to get to bed early, since he wouldn't be leaving any presents while we were awake. Hastily, almost rudely we said goodnight to the stranger in the suit and to our parents as we hurried up to bed.

And I love the food and the family and the traditions that make Christmas feel like Christmas. For us it's family time. Going out to cut down the tree together, decorating the tree together, baking and eating the cookies together (some of us do more of the eating than the baking). Then a candlelight Christmas eve service at our church, complete with the singing of the traditional Christmas hymns, and hearing the Christmas story read out loud. Getting our jammies on and hanging up our stockings on the railing before going to bed. Waking up too early to creep down the stairs and check that someone has filled the stockings. Opening presents one at a time to make sure that each gift is acknowledged and aaahhhed over appropriately. Homemade cinnamon buns and tea and clementines from our stockings. Testing out new toys, trying on new clothes, having wrapping paper fights. Thanks given for the day and the people and the ultimate gift. Turkey dinners with all the family. The collective sigh as everyone sits by the fire, rehashing the day and enjoying each other's company. The things are often things I feel that I need for Christmas to feel like Christmas.

But as it turns out, Christmas is not about feelings, or mood, or cheer. It's not about the gifts that we so carefully buy, and wrap. And as the Grinch so aptly pointed out, Christmas doesn't come from a store and does, in fact, mean a little bit more.

Christmas, the celebration of the birth of Christ, is another reminder that God keeps His promises, that His timing is perfect, that even though things may seem wildly unfair and out of control that He has not forgotten us. That He is still faithful, that He is with us and has overcome all obstacles to reunite us with Himself. All that is left is for us to humble ourselves and accept not only that we need Him but that we love Him for what He has done and is yet to do. Our God is good.

So, while the list of things that I love about Christmas is extensive, I can tell you that it is not those things that bring meaning to my Christmas. My Christmas is because Jesus Christ, the begotten Son of God, came to earth as a baby and grew up to manhood without breaking any of Gods' laws, to do not His own will, but the will of His Father.

I pray that your Christmas was good. But more than that, that it was and will ever more be meaningful.

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom He is pleased." Luke 2:14

unpacking and wrapping

Today as I was cleaning my room I found my mothers' Christmas gift.
'Funny' I thought to myself 'I was sure that I had already wrapped this...'
I wandered down to the tree and sure enough under the heavily laden boughs was a box of roughly the same shape and size as the one I had found. As unobtrusively as possible I picked up the mystery parcel and tiptoed past my sewing mother who of course noticed what I was doing and said:
"What have I done?! Don't I get a Christmas gift this year?"
I mumbled something about coal and hurried upstairs, shutting myself in with the box.
Hastily I unwrapped it and fought my way in, letting out a startled chuckle at the contents. This was one of the last boxes that I had packed in Stettler, an assortment of odds and ends. A jug, a piece of fabric, two pillow cases, a mask, a pair of socks (most likely already belonging to my mother, liberated to grace my feet), some old books and my phone. I laughed to myself at how it would have actually been quite funny if she had opened it on Christmas morning while wrapping her actual gift. She would have been especially outraged at my giving her own socks back to her. Very funny indeed!

what I learned from Labyrinth...

If you've seen the labyrinth you're probably aware of the scene where Jareth asks Sarah: "what do you think of my labyrinth?" and she replies: "piece of cake" and then she and hoggle have to run for their lives from the cleaners. More or less.

So, the other day when someone asked me something about my upcoming flight back to Ottawa from Sydney, I should not have responded: "easy peasy".

At the airport in Sydney there was a storm, which held us tarmac locked until it passed. A flight that was supposed to leave at 12:15 left almost two hours later at 2pm. Don't get me wrong, I'd much rather be grounded than struck lightning but it did turn 14 hours into 16 hours.

A late arrival in Vancouver meant a missed connection and a reroute, through Toronto.

As we were landing in Toronto, the plane lost radio contact with the air traffic control tower and had to pull up and circle the airport until communication was re-established. Which made us late arriving and resulted in another missed connection. Again, glad to not be crash landing.

The flight from Toronto to Ottawa seemed to be taking awhile to take off, we sat at the gate for awhile waiting for... wait for it... yes, the pilot. The flight deck crew apparently missing. Somewhere in the airport. Then the ground crew get relocated to another plane.

But really, even with all of that, it was only 25 hours of traveling. It would be much much worse on a boat.

And my mom and dad were there to greet me, with Christmas cookies!

It's good to be home.

I enjoy parentheses

Introduction:
How hard can it be to write a song? Really? All you need is some good subject matter, and let me tell you there is plenty of worthy fodder for those who are willing to wax lyrical regarding the mundane and the matter of living. And so, a collection of short songs, for your enjoyment. My apologies to anyone who isn't Nat.

Acknowledgements:
Thanks to nat and jason and owen Ray, my best sources of inspiration for this album and, Australia for it's slightly ridiculous always amusing street names. I'm no Joey Deschanel and I can't sing any better than Scuttle but I think they have potential... with a little work maybe.

mannequins
browsing, for treasures
antique shops are troves
but lurking and watching
are dummies in droves

so silently stalking
as carelessly you shop
peripherally visioned
your guard you can't drop

a strange childish game
of red light, green light
the mannequins play
with the holes in your sight

was that there before?
aloud you may say
creeped out and hungry
you wave it away

saucy fellow
standing on the street
there's a saucy fellow
he might be a creep
but probably he's mellow
what's it really mean?
are we being shallow
should we get a treat
probably marshmallow

Parramatta rd. traffic song
sitting in traffic, go
stop, like an old printer,
short bursts of forward movement, stop,
go, can't go over it
wait there
can't go around it
not fair
the school end crawl
in slow motion
got to wade through it
wait now
wish I had...
dilithium crystals
so sad
stop. go. sigh.

the answer to all questions
(save one) (co-written by Jason Ray)
what would you like for dinner?
your face
what can I get you?
your face
you know what I like?
your face
did you hear about sparkly vampire babies?
your face
would you like fries with that?
your face
did you know they operate on lions?
your face
did you eat your pickles?
your face
what game would you like to play?
your face
could I have a hand?
your face
guess what?
chicken butt!
(your face)

pumpkin face
pumpkin face
you've got the cutest little
pumpkin face
just the orangest little
supper trace
no one could call you
a disgrace
cause you're the cutest little
pumpkin face

I enjoy parentheses
hello my friend,
there are so many reasons
I love you.
When I talk mock
sparkly vampire babies
and such,
and am a silly billy
you laugh with me.
(and love me stilly)
I love that you make
time for me coma
and call me names
that show I'm dear
to you.
When you dictate texts coma
you include punctuation ellipses

but I don't mind.
because I enjoy parentheses.

I sing a lot, not well, and still
you're attuned to my heart,
your hands lift my prayers
even though I move coma
and your cooking is gourmet.
You introduce me as
your best friend
from Canada, I like that
a lot. It makes me feel special.
And I like that we
have inside jokes
a repertoire really coma
that strangely aren't really jokes ellipses

but I don't mind.
Because I enjoy parentheses.

I'm pretty sure
that if I still had a fridge
it'd have a jar of pickles
contained within it
that would make me smile.
Being with you
makes my heart glad,
that my load is
covered coma
otherwise I'd get a fine
but that's ok ellipses

because I enjoy parentheses
and I know you do as well.

Gray Stains
take a moment to think the better
the seconds count for this gray sweater
once was dry but now is wetter
favorite things don't last forever

Grace Danes, she wore it out now has
grease stains french fries and mayo make
street names misunderstood for the
gray stains where shall we go?
where shall we go?

felt a chill cause of the weather
damp and gray not wearing leather
waterlogged light as a feather
think myself still rather clever

Grace Danes, she wore it out now has

grease stains french fries and mayo make

street names misunderstood for the

gray stains where shall we go?

where shall we go?

Alright... so I'll probably never be a famous lyricist. That is ok. I miss the people that make Sydney worth visiting. Very. Feel better.

godmother status: active

Hear Ye! Hear Ye!

There is a very important new man in my life! His name is Owen Ray (formerly known as Hoo Ray) and I am very happy to announce that he has convinced me to officially change my name to (drum roll please...) Auntie Dori.

Auntie Dori, Owen and Nat

Thank you for your attention.

tassie

Tasmania! Unexpectedly wonderful! I went for the purpose of seeing a dear friend that I knew in high school, but was pleasantly surprised to find that the Island is in itself a lovely holiday destination.

Nov 16

After another boring flight (in terms of danger and seat mates) I was standing at the baggage carousel waiting unsuspectingly for my bag when I was bear hug attacked from behind. This very warm welcome from Leannie was a great start to this excellent leg in my journey.

Leanne and I met Leo (her charming husband) for hot chocolate affogatos. Affogato is traditionally a scoop of icecream in a glass which comes with a shot of espresso which you pour over the icecream for a delightful mix of hot and cold goodness. Substitute hot chocolate for the espresso and you have my new favorite dessert beverage.

Dinner was a fancy affair put on by Leo, which was followed by homemade chocolate macaroons.

Nov 17

While Leannie was working I took the opportunity to explore downtown Hobart. Hobart is small and built on a hill. It's a great workout to explore it. I had a nice coffee at Retro, then took the ferry over to MONA the museum of old and new art. The ferry ride was lovely. The museum which had been highly recommended, I found to be dark (both in mood and lighting as there was no natural light) and depraved. Much of it was semi-pornographic as it showcased many items through many mediums of nudity and mutilation, often in combination. I left shortly after arriving.

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring downtown, shopping on Elizabeth st., and eating gelato. This decadent day was followed by a most enjoyable dinner out at a small, family owned Italian restaurant called Solo. Make a reservation, we were very lucky to get a table.

Later, Leanne and Leo took me to their dance class. Ceroc dancing is somewhat like swing dancing, but no rock step. I'm not so good at it because the rock step has become automatic, and I like to bounce. 

Nov 18

A rainy morning curbed my more adventurous enthusiasm, so I looked around at some shops on the harbour front. I ducked into an antique shop to see if I could find some treasures, and was indeed lucky though not in an expected way. The shop keeper exclaimed as I entered that I must know him, otherwise why would I be smiling so at seeing him. He invited me in and bade me sit at his desk while he grilled me on North American trivia. I found that he had recently been to Ireland, and that he was quite a keen story teller. He instructed me in the art of joke telling, "the secret" he said "is writing down the punch line" and so handed me a card and thence began regaling me with Irish and Australian humour.

Seriously, ask me for a joke, I've written down the punch lines for just such an occasion. A diverting 45 minutes were spent in his company. I have no idea how he sells anything, I didn't even get a chance to look at the antiques.

While I was in the area, I thought that I might as well check out the displays in the local art school. I was not disappointed. I had been so uninspired by the previous days' "art" that I found I was not in a humour to tolerate that which did not please me. However, happy was I to wander and wonder at the skill, effort and artistry in what had been displayed.

That evening Leanne, Leo and I packed a picnic dinner and headed to the beach in Kingston. Despite being a chilly evening, it was beautiful to eat out of doors with the waves crashing on the beach and the sun setting in the foreground.

Nov 19

Funny, since it doesn't feel like it, but it is indeed time for such secular events as the santa clause parade. Leanne and Leo dance with Le Bop dance troupe, and they danced in intersections for the crowds waiting to see the parade. It was hot and sunny, and I had to be fully saturated with SPF 30. I did not envy the guy in the big red suit.

After the parade we rehydrated and revived ourselves with water and lunch, and then hit the Salamanca markets. There was a terrible terrible band playing the only three songs I presume they knew. I'm not sure if there was rotten fruit involved, but I do know that they didn't last more than three repetitions. Exploring the markets took the better part of the afternoon, so many treasures and trinkets!

This followed by a well deserved quiet evening, and the rare privilege of an encounter with the six fingered sword.

Nov 20

Since being in Australia, I had not had the opportunity to go to church, so I was so delighted to accompany Leanne and Leo to their church this lovely sunny Sunday morning. The speaker spoke of true humility and trusting in God rather than any earthly thing or human trait or ability. It was refreshing to my soul to be among my church family and worship with them.

After a quick bite to eat from a local bakery, we headed off to Port Arthur which we explored as throughly as we could between violent downpours. Despite its' sad and unquestionably terrible history, Port Arthur is a beautiful place which feels both peaceful and restful. Ruins of the prison, the barracks, the infirmery sit on lush green hills surrounded by trees and fronted by a small port bay.

Nov 21

I'm only slightly embarrassed to say that I spent much of today in pajamas.

I did however also climb the historic shot tower. This is a tower that was built specifically for the purpose of making shots (the lead balls used in very old firearms). "How is this done?" you may wonder out loud. By melting lead at the top of the tower, and spooning it into a seive with holes the size of the desired shot and letting the lead cool and harden as it plummets the height of the tower to plop unceremoniously into a barrel of water at the base of the tower, perfectly formed and ready to fire.

Nov 22

You may say that making up for lost time precipitated the speed warning I was given this morning in my small rented car. Today was a day of fervent prayer, as I drove on the left and faked my way around traffic circles, making my way from Hobart up towards Freycinet National Park. A scant hour from Hobart I was booked by a friendly copper who started our exchange with:
"I noticed that this is a hired car"
(abashed affirmation)
"I take it you're not from Tassie"
(no sir)
"Do you know what the speed limit signs look like?"
(red circles around black numbers on a white sign)
"Look, I'm not going to book you this time, but next time you speed you're going to get booked. Please keep an eye on the speedo"
(thank you sir)

Right, so back on track. I am happy to tell you that I was diligent in the extreme regarding speed for the remainder of the trip.

Freycinet National Park is beautiful. Many lovely bushwalks, gorgeous views (a lot of postcards originated here), and ideal looking beaches with aquamarine waters and fine white sand. It was a grand adventure.

On the drive home "Sheila" my GPS unit provided me with the "shortest route" home. While the distance was shortest, the road was a "c" grade road. Highways are grade "a", main roads are grade "b", dirt track narrow farm roads are grade "c". Like I said, a day of fervent prayer. Breathtaking, not just beautiful.

Nov 23

Leanne and I drove to the top of Mount Wellington, where it was cold enough to host a bit of leftover winter snow in the crevices between rocks. On a clear day Mount Wellington is well worth ascending for the yodellers eye view of Hobart and surrounds. It was freezing up there, despite our beanies (toques), so after snapping as many pictures as we could before our fingers were no longer functional, we redescended.

A tasty lunch at Golden Tulip energized us for our following expedition. South down the coast to Hastings Caves and "tepid" springs. The caves we extraordinary! And very fun for echoes. There was some singing involved.

Nov 24

Leo took the day off, and all three of us took the ferry to Bruny Island. Cheese, wine, olives, fresh bread, fresh berries, all eaten from various excellent picnic spots, followed by homemade surf n' turf of perfectly cooked steak and fresh garlic butter scallops. Need I say more? A delectable day!

Nov 25
Sadly, all good things must come to an end. And after a somewhat salty farewell and so long, I flew to Sydney...