apple pull-apart bread heaven

SO glad I took the time to catch up on blog posts last night ... thanks, ApplesofGold for the recipie.



 

what I did this past weekend

Well, last weekend I had the privilege of singing with bestsister at our homeschool group's Encouragement Day.  The music track stopped playing off and on as we progressed in our singing, but we just smiled that knowing smile at each other and sang anyway.  It wasn't half bad, considering we had practiced acapella "just in case" we felt "led" to sing that way (just not in that particular song)

*sigh*  it really was a good day all things considered.  I believe I came away truly encouraged ... not so this Saturday.

THIS Saturday, I had a wonderful rehearsal time with some dear, old friends whom we never have the priviledge of seeing much anymore.  I am singing with them as my Daddy gets baptized this Sunday to come ... just three days after he turns 63.  He chose the song "I Will Never be the Same Again" and I hope I do it without crying.  I have not sung with this couple for many years; what a treat to be able to sing with three of my most favourite singers ever, within weeks of each other!  I also had a most yummy lunch with my parents after the practice since they live in the same city.

but then ...

We went to a goodbye party for some of Neal's cousins who are leaving in a few weeks for Africa.  It isn't for missions, but still there will be many opportunities for their family to minister there. 

To think that we had been invited both here and here ...

What wasn't so great about the time was the crazy conversations I found myself participating in.  Here is what I "learned about myself" (read: was informed of by a loving, honest in-law)

a. my kids are not being socialized properly

b.our decision to not attend church this summer, or to church on the beach or whatever I want to call it was just plain wrong, no matter what

c. we never should have allowed our summer houseguest/actor into our home ... and

d.some of the comments on my facebook are inappropriate (it was not stated whether I made the comments or others made them and I failed to delete them)

I have decided that attending this family function was a little like opening a fortune cookie ...  tasteless and filled with useless information

go big or go home

so, today, as we speak, my man is upstairs sleeping instead of making the money at work.  he is stresed to the max with an absolutely awful mouth, cancer sore the size of a dime, other festering cuts lining his tounge and cheeks.  this is stress from last week, compounded at the dinner table last Tuesday night when he chose to bite the inside of his cheek over a potato.

it had me on my proverbial knees yesterday afternoon, while the boys had a basketball class at the local community centre.  sometimes paying someone else to teach your kids is a fantastic thing.

so I am slowly working my way through the Blessing Handbook, by Terry R. Bone who none of you will have heard of because he is from Southwestern Ontario and that is ok.  In his second chapter, he talks about missed blessings ... an emotional deficit children carry into adulthood due to a failure on the parent's part to impart the affirmation we all know everyone needs.  my inner jury is out still on this one.  there was a time for reflection and prayer at the end of the chapter, and I asked Father to reveal to me any unmet need for blessing in my life.  nothing.  crickets chirping.  I just don't buy into the victim mentality ... even though I have many a reason to.

1.  my mom worked full time even though, precocious as I ONCE was, I begged her not to leave.  I begged her to babysit instead.  I would even tell her to leave my lunch in the fridge, what toys I would ONLY play with, what shows on tv I would ONLY watch, and assured her I would NEVER turn the stove on, open the door or answer the phone.  no avail.  but I am truly over it.

2. my dad was an alcoholic and not entirely involved in our lives.  not that he did not love us, he just didn't know how.  we all live by example, and if the example isn't there, well, you do the best you can with what you know.  plus he is British ... need I say more?  I had a talk with him many years ago about how I was needing his forgiveness for not honouring him as my dad, and he apologized for not being the dad he could see, now, that I had needed.  I don't regret my childhood or bemoan what it "could have been".  sometimes you need to see the silver lining, even if it takes 38 years of a faithful mother's prayers.

3. my dad was diagnosed with cancer of the lung and brain only a few years ago, just as he has come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.  that could make me really bitter or sad, but it doesn't.  my dad helped me through the initial shock and sadness and now we are all just in awe of his healing thus far.

4. one of my best friends moved over 25 hours away, and had her fourth baby without me.  my other best friend had the joy of announcing her 7th pregnancy to me.  this is all good, right?  except I cannot seem to know the happiness of a larger family, and there is no apparant medical reason for this.  we were also rejected when we tried to adopt three years ago.  so I should be really angry with God and finding new friends to comfort me, right?  I have been told lately that no one understands how I can be friends with the woman who is pregnant with number 7.  it makes no sense.  it must be ever so difficult for me.  please.  maybe I just really don't "get it" but I still have tea with her every thursday, and I still talk to my other friend in saskatchewan ... and when I need to cry, they offer a kleenex.  what is so hard about that?  they need to cry sometimes, too.

anyway, there is more I could say, but I wanted to end with this, because I wonder if it is connected somehow - to my man and his stress, and to me and my refusal to believe I have missed out on blessings.

chapter 3 of the blessing handbook.

there was a time in his life when Doug's destiny was in question because of a missed blessing ...

My Father died in Vietnam when I was five years old.  The last thing I expected was to receive a letter from him 17 years later.  But that is what happened one winter day when I was 22 years old.

'Someday, you will have to decide on a career.  Many well-meaning people will offer their sincere advice and you will undoubtedly be quite confused.  The choide of your life's work is equally as important as choosing a life's mate.  Before you can do either, you must decide what you are yourself, as a person.  As  the years go by, you will soon discover whether you are outward or timid, adventuresome or docile, ambitious or complacent.  It is no sin to be one or the other; but it is extremely important that you discover what you are - not what at some moment in life you may think you would like to be.'

life isn't always what we think we need or want it to be, but we can certainly choose how we react to it.  could it be that my man is in need of a change of scenery, and all that that entails?  and can I possibly decide to accept my family size without having to always like it?  is it, perchance, a possibility that adopting the happy heart I expect my kids to sport eventually replaces what seems to be a curse with a blessing?  can I really live on the flip side?

I think yes ...

apple picking time

Funny how no matter what changes, some things stay the same.  Like apple picking.  Given the choice of simply purchasing a bag of apples at the store or picking my own, in the orchard, I will always choose the latter.  It just feels like the right way to welcome, officially, the autumn.  So, without further adieu, I post this year's pictures, sans korean student, but avec sarah's beautifully penned words (I hope she doesn't mind much).

Dad, Peeling Apples


The color of wheat

bread speckled

like the skin of a Golden Delicious,

freckles on top of freckles

and tiny nicks

from his knife, dots of blood

turned to brown scabs.

My father’s hands

have never changed. Every night

a different apple

skinned naked,



split and seeded without him

ever looking down, loving the fit

of apple

in the left hand, brown-handled

knife in the right.



He licks the tip of his finger

where the juice runs clear

and skewers a slice

for me, which I take



regardless

of whether I want

an apple or whether

the flesh has begun to brown

around the edges. When he is done,

knife set down and fingers wiped

clean against the legs

of his beige corduroys, I will take

the leathered back

of his hand to my cheek

and hold it there, begging

his weathered roots to spread

their soil-caked fingers

long and strong

as deep as the generations will go.



(By Sarah Small. Copyright 2000. First published in The Yalobusha Review.)

what a precious memory to share, with friends, across the miles.  this, too, I would forsake for the beauty of the mountains ... hills to call home.

what goes around ...

If this blog were a twelve-step program, I would introduce myself this way:

Hi.  My name is Kristina and I am a gossip.  So, really, don't tell me anything.

The chuch we have been attending for the last month or so has a fantastic thing going on every Thursday night, for 40 weeks (hmmm ... significance in 40 weeks?).  It is called Celebrate Recovery and is based on the traditional twelve step program that has been proven successful.  My problem is not in admitting that I could certainly use some help "recovering", but, rather, in which group to join.

Do I sign up for the addictions group, since I love a good story as much as the next girl and am especially gifted, I find, in the art of exagguration?

Or, would I better fit as a co-dependant? I clearly have not mastered the practice of stopping a fellow gossiper dead in her tracks or I would have nothing to gossip about.  Talking about myself is not gossip ... it is boring conversation, no matter how much bestsister laughs.

Well, this morning, at our homeschool co-op group, I was talking to a friend about how sad she must have been when she had to recently put her bulldog down.  I told her how I cried like a baby when we had to "get rid of" our dog.  She politely asked me some details, which I proceeded to tell her, when she started to get a funny look on her face.  I stopped talking long enough for her to say "Kristina, I have to tell you that I have already heard this story and it was not said in a nice way at all."  Seems there is someone in our wee town that just doesn't like to say kind things about me and mine, and the stone that I rolled (in other ways) has rolled back on me.

I am still resigned to confront this other person as our family does know them, but it makes a good point.

Perhaps I can join the addictions group first, and when that 40 weeks is done, I can roll on into the co-dependant group.  I should like to think that I will have learned my lesson by then ...

 

another canvas

not because I am proud, but because I really am finding myself with fewer and fewer ideas to blog about here (but, certainly, no fewer questions).  so I post a picture of one of my latest canvasses.  at least it is something.  sometimes I wish homeschoolblogger offered more bells and whistles ...

last night

was not my best night.  In fact, upon reflection, I feel I looked a little like Carrie in the Exorcist ... not that I would ever have watched a movie like that, but I have heard about her character.  My swollen and red eyes are proof that I was emotionally disturbed and did not get the proper amount of sleep.  My head is throbbing and I am less than enthusiastic about being a homeschool, stay-at-home mom, with kids around all day instead of being able to send them skipping to some other institution so I can go back to my bed.

but then ...

I went into the bathroom to survey the facial damage and saw a gift that had been given to Neal and me some years ago, by a couple who are just plain "there".  Not there as in Carrie, but there meaning they can take it from us and they still offer unconditional love (and a kick in the pants when needed).  I could go on and on about them, but the point I am trying to make concerns the gift ... a daily verse flip pad of Max Lucado musings.  Here is today's:

We are covered by the Lamb, hidden in Christ.  When God looks at you, he doesn't see you; he sees Jesus.  And how does he respond when he sees Jesus?  He rends the heavens and vibrates the earth with the shout, "You are my Son, whom I love, and I am very pleased with you"  (Mark 1:11)

amazing.

Happy Birthday, Roger ... wish I could be there on Sunday.  Do you really know just how much you two mean to us?  I only pray I can someday be half of what you have been to Neal and me.

and Neal?  I am sorry.  Please forgive me.

I am working on it.

there are many creative things

Yes, many creative things that I could blog about this particular morning.  One, that we had a voting on a Referendum last night and I awoke to the news that most of the Province has chosen Liberal ... boo.  Most of my county chose Conservative.  My first sentence is probably wrong, politically, as well.  At least I voted.

Two, my relative happiness with our "new" church is just that ... relative happiness, but I am resigned to the fact that one really must go somewhere, and this somewhere is not half bad, just not quite what we were looking for, and still a bit of a drive.  I have no idea what the Pastor thinks about homeschooling or those eccentric enough to do it, and proclaim to be artists at the same time.  I can speculate that he would be somewhat in favour of homeschooling in general as the church also has a private, Christian school attached.  There are a little less than 100 children who attend this school.  I always thought there were more.  Another private school has less than 50 students (actually closer in number to 30) and there is also a private Christian Reformed school.  The majority of homeschoolers in my area are Dutch and Christian Reformed.  There is a membership meeting in two weeks.  I am not sure I can decide that quickly and, at the same time, desperately want this whole situation resolved.

Three, my youngest just plain hates school.  This certainly challenges my enthusiasm and confidence in teaching.  I have said it before and I will say it again ... homeschooling is not for the faint of heart.  At least I still have his heart, and he is only in grade six.  We still have time ...

Out of approx. 87 families who are registered members of my area (which is pretty huge, geographically speaking) I only know of two who are currently homeschooling high-schoolers.  There is an online program some have chosen for their high-school students, but it is not actually homeschooling as it is a government-run program for those who, for whatever reason, cannot or do not want to be in an out-of-home classroom setting.  Parents do not check the work or assign anything, but help with homework just as they would if their child attended the local public high school.  We would like to homeschool through high school, but God may have a different path for us.  I wonder, sometimes, how eccentric is too eccentric.  You really do get pretty ignored in this wee town if you don't go with the flow.  Friends would be nice.

Four, and last, I leave you with this article my dear friend, bestsister, forwarded to me on Halo3.  I have not formulated an exact opinion on this whole issue yet, but would like to announce that the church we attend, currently, has added WII to the youth room.  The hope is that kids will move a bit and enjoy this type of action/sport gaming over Halo and more passive games.  Apparantly the good, old-fashioned idea of playing outside 'til it is too dark to be safe is just old-fashioned.

Some days, the pull to "the hills" is stronger than others.

bring on the rain

yesterday I remarked to my husband "I don't think I have ever eaten thanksgiving dinner in a tank top before" and I was, apparantly, right.  the high peaked at 31 Celcius and, let me tell you, we had both air conditioners at full blast to be able to endure it in this old house of ours.  she may be three bricks thick, but when the temperature is in the 90's for too many days, the heat begins to seep through the cracks and you feel it.  yesterday's high broke the record set back in '77 ... and I probably had a tank top on that day too but I don't remember a whole lot about being 6.

no wonder I took a three hour nap on saturday.

so, it's back to the same old, same old today, with the addition of rehearsals tonight for Rumplestiltskin.  this time my boys are acting with me, and neal is going to help paint the sets.  we will be out three nights a week on top of basketball lessons once a week and french twice a week.  enrichment classes on monday mornings and before you know it, we will be celebrating christmas ...

and there is NO WAY I will still be wearing a tank top then.

living in Canada

so, with the incredibly, unseasonably warm weather, we canadians will welcome thanksgiving weekend, Monday being the official holiday, and think about swimming over sweaters.  some areas of ontario are even breaking heat records.  must be a trickle down from tennessee ...

my in-laws will be relaxing on their deck, by the lake where they live, and we will be spending some saturday sweetness with my folks about an hour away from here.  the rest of the weekend will be for our family of four; time to catch up and slow down for a while.

we will have the stuffing and cranberries, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie, apple pie and chicken ... yes, chicken.  I forgot to buy a turkey and have had, instead, a few chickens delivered by a friend and it just makes more sense.  this will be the first thanksgiving without extended family in a long, long time.

this year I am thankful not only for my dad, who will be baptized the first weekend in november (truly amazing that he is still here with us, sarcastic sense of humour and all), but also for my husband, who is the love of my life.

I wonder what it will be like when we are old 

and we paint

together

on Wednesdays

will we paint on Wednesdays?

and will our art belie our age?

or will I paint flowers and puppies

and children out skipping?

will I have my hair cut short

just because I am old?

Our children will come

and bring their children with them

and we'll tell the same stories

again and again

but no one will stop us -

no one will say anything

they'll just listen

and be thankful

that they have us at all

And after they've gone

we'll sit at the table

together

alone

wondering how we got to this place

thankful to be in this place

where you still call me beautiful

and I still call you strong

where hours slip slowly

and memories mark time.

kristina campbell, august 25, 2007, onfirepublications                                                                                                            

what I woke up to

my alarm clock is set to CBC radio and this morning I heard one of those comentaries that wakes you straight up out of a peaceful slumber.

the man on the radio was telling the interviewer how much of a travesty he finds public school lunchtime to be.  he believes that it is of the utmost importance that parents take the time to eat lunch with their children, picking them up from school to do so.  He remarked that although cafeterias are available in some schools (or at least a place to eat), this is merely a service that is offered and has nothing whatsoever to do with education.  education is the primary focus of the school, not eating, and parents should be available to eat with their children to help break up the day and maybe even hear a good "pirate story" (I did not hear the first part of the interview which I assume was a happy parent/child lunchtime example).

what an eccentric man to propose such an inconvenience.

at least it's something.

here, in the county where we live, this would be an impossibility.  the public school board decided it would be a brilliant idea to take traditional recess and lunch time away from the kids and, in it's stead, give two lunch/recess breaks per day.  the children begin classes at 9am and break around 10:40 until 11, then again at 1pm until 1:20.  I suppose if a parent had no other appointments and could really quickly speed over to the school, they could enjoy some time ... oh, wait, I forgot.  sorry.  children are not permitted to leave the school grounds until the end bell rings at approximately 3:20pm. 

scratch quality time.   add to the grocery bill and the problem of obesity since no one can really expect their child to eat just a "snack" at first break, saving their lunch until the late hour of 1pm.  instead, parents have to give little johnny TWO full lunches and hope he can wolf it down in the 5 minutes he is given to eat (because exercise is important and the teachers need some down time and no food is allowed outside, nor is extra eating time allowed).

oh, and did I mention that you are only given a couple of bathroom passes each day?  guess they figure kids can plan to be efficiency experts in that area, too.

 p.s. just caught sarah's what's grosser than gross tag ... and mine is borrowed from a kiwi friend of long ago ...

a cat who refuses to clean his nether regions and is, thusly, and aptly named "Sammie Stamper"