Sunflowers

     Our elder daughter has been determined to grow sunflowers this year. She had a very successful roadside business in the past and although we have much smaller square footage here, we do have an opportunity to grow dozens of plants in our raised beds. Last year we suspect that rabbits ruined any chance of a good sunflower harvest so this year, we took advantage of our little greenhouse, got an early start and used every inch of garden we could to guarantee a bold return. A little fencing didn't hurt either. We are both excited to see what happens next. And the fact that the little seedlings were not bothered by the torrential rains or the little bit of hail we experienced recently makes us hopeful. The presence of a nearby bird feeder filled with black oil sunflower seeds means that we are never alone. Robins, chickadees, finches and even mourning doves make their presence known. And Mr. Rabbit is nowhere to be found. I suspect he found a more enticing spot without the possibility of our dogs making an appearance.

     Growing flowers, vegetables or fruits is never a sure thing, any farmer will tell you. And despite what those forget-me-nots poking up through cracks in the concrete might imply, the conditions must be right. Proper soil, sunlight, rain and care will not ensure success but will be very helpful.

     Whatever comes of our daughter’s efforts, we are looking forward to those blazes of yellow, orange and gold petals, those complicated yet simple centres, those broad green leaves and thick strong stalks. They're all gorgeous, generous and a patient gardener’s dream. And with a little help, luck and a few prayers we will be back in business, whether she sells any or not.

Robin

     As the first harbingers of spring, robins have always been one of my favourite birds. Their generous size, their gorgeous orange chests and their work ethic with worms have always impressed me. I love all birds and enjoy watching their quick and quiet antics in my garden. My garden is a place of many moods; joy, solace, wonder and sadness are all experienced there. Nature is a good friend when you need a quiet moment or maybe a distraction; there is always something to do. And as in a church, prayer seems to come naturally in a garden.

     When I learned that my friend Robin had died, my garden seemed like the best place to go. He was a man of wisdom, good humour and diligence. Getting to know him and working with him as wardens at Holy Trinity made me like him tremendously and respect and value his intelligence. He was a gentleman first and foremost, in every sense of the word. He was also a man who liked to walk and so I regret the pilgrimages Robin did not get to plan. It seemed to me that he was a man of vigour, with a great capacity to take on whatever life had thrown at him. Sadly none of us knew how short a time we were to have with him. Robin died in hospice care with his family around him. I miss him.

     One of  Robin's qualities that I most value was his ability to get us, his parish family, outside, which he did annually. We made a trek as a group with him as our leader, a Lenten pilgrimage, through parts of White Rock and South Surrey, meeting at the church and ending up there too. Robin charted our route and kept track of us all. These walks were an opportunity to forge new friendships and solidify old ones. The hot cross buns, tea and coffee waiting for us were a welcome treat after our walk and provided a time for fellowship. I appreciated how Robin was able to get us all together, walking for a few hours on a sunny spring Saturday and I know Hayley and her dog Stella appreciated it too. We will all miss him.

     Father Joe's prayer included in the notice of Robin's death resonates deeply with me this morning. It begins: " Father of all, we pray to you for those we love but see no longer...." Now every time that I look across the aisle to where Robin used to sit in church I will remember what a kind, wise and caring man he was. And I will not be alone.

Orchids

     I love spring, the season of spring. There is no confusion like autumn or fall, it's simply: Spring. It is a time of newness, of rebirth, of buds and flowers. There are few things that give me as much satisfaction as several flats of something to plant and a place to plant them. And I will find a place, or I usually do. A neighbour's old Japanese maple tree didn't quite make it into my yard but I tried really hard. But that's another story. And as much as I like gardening and flowers, I'm no master gardener. Some things make it and some things don't but I am okay with that.

     For some reason I have accumulated several (nine!) orchid plants over the years and to my delight seven of them are blooming at this moment in time. They live in our bathroom window, above the bathtub and I suppose between the diffuse light and the moist air, they are very happy. A little fertilizer is helpful as well I guess. I am not sure how I attained such a bounty of gorgeousness but they are truly lovely and unique in every way. I feel blessed to have a window framed in such beauty to gaze upon each day. And I thank all the nice folks who handed me their orchid plant, maybe not knowing if they would ever see them again....Here they are! Enjoy! I know I do.

Thursday

     I have been attending the Thursday Eucharist service for some months now. It is at 9:30 in the morning on a weekday which is not possible for everyone but it usually works for me. It's completely different from the service that I attend on Sundays; the same place, some of the same folks, a similar but extremely pared down service, but very much a unique experience. Previously it had never occurred to me that I might attend a church service more than once a week. Life is busy; many of us can barely make it there one day a week. That used to be me. 

     This service for me is a simple but profound connection that is made in quiet moments. I can look around and really see my surroundings: the stained glass, the brass and wood, the tapestry and wax, the bread and the wine. By observing the ritual of Eucharist up close with attention paid to the acts and words of this most sacred communion, I am drawn in, focused. In the chaos and commotion of daily life, this time in His house is a small retreat into wonder, a simple but valuable reset: I feel like a child in my Father’s house. Once again, I am. 

     I am grateful for this. I appreciate that our clergy, led by Father Joe, provides this service. I am thankful for the Altar Guild and that the church can be open and available to us in the middle of the busy week. I thank God for all who came before and gave us this place of joy, of peace, of hope, of love. There may be cracks and stains in places, spilled wax and old windows but I love this house of God, my church home. I know this every day but I am particularly reminded, every Sunday and every Thursday.

Goat

     Looking after a tiny goat kid is more work than you might imagine. It's also more rewarding than you could possibly think. Our little friend was about a month old and her mum had rejected her so things weren't great and to top it off she had a heart murmur. Our daughter and I figured that we were her only chance for survival so we decided to give it a whirl. Here's what I learned from our little cloven-hoofed friend Misty:

1. Communicate, communicate, communicate. And volume is key here. Don't whisper when loudness is so much more effective. If you're hungry, let everyone know about it. Heck, let the neighbours know....everyone needs to know.

2. Strolling is overrated. When at all possible run, spin, leap at full speed. Slowness is for sissies.

3. Everything is a potential snack. Chair cushions (especially the green ones with cute little ties), coffee tables, jacket zipper pulls, house plants....everything has some nutritional value. You just don't know until you try....

4. Every place has what it takes to be a toilet. We are not fussy; towels are good, mats are nice, dog beds are awesome even just the plain old floor. Even grass. We're not fussy--- why should you be?

5. Pushing things with your head is underrated. There is no end to fun when you are applying your forehead to any imaginable surface: fireplaces, furniture, doors. Anywhere has possible pushing possibilities. Also it feels good on those little horns that we are growing. You should try it! 

6. Neatness is not a thing. Whenever possible, drip your milk, spit out your hay, knock over your water and jump at the slightest noise. It keeps life interesting and let's face it, Martha Stewart is not coming over anytime soon. Also see #4.

7. Goats are people too. Sure you may not give us the best names or dress us in the highest fashion clothes but we like the attention so we don't really care. As long as you are into the same kind of fun that we are, we like you. And if that includes racing around a field like an idiot then we love you! 

8. You never know how long you have on earth so it's best to live your best life every day that you can. Make friends, sing, dance, enjoy the outdoors as much as you can and just know that every day is another chance to make someone smile....

Rest in peace Misty!

Recycling 2

     Our eldest daughter has been kept busy lately by one of her jobs---  her recycling job. Over the years she has recycled almost 30,000 containers with the help of family, friends and neighbours. A new job maintaining a local strip mall has also added to this bounty, making those $100.00 cheques come a little faster than they used to do. The mall maintenance has been an eye-opening one for her with cigarette smokers leading the ranks of the worst offenders for littering followed closely by folks not willing to recycle or even throw away their alcoholic cans and bottles and just leaving them wherever. I find it sad to see that so many students from the nearby high school can't be bothered to throw their pizza boxes away. I remember being in Europe many years ago and being horrified by the litter there. It seems like we are headed in the same direction. This is me being a grumpy old lady.

    Anyway the new Return-it Express service through Encorp Pacific makes it so much easier to simply bag, label and scan those clear garbage bags full of returns and have your account automatically credited. No sorting required! Our daughter enjoys being busy, likes to make money and is encouraged by all the folks who make sure that she gets their empties either by bringing them to us or asking us for a pick-up. People like you. So thank you for those bags and bags of recyclable containers. Every can, bottle, jug and tetra pack is another ten cents in our daughter's pocket and for that, she is thrilled! Thanks!

Don

     A newcomer to our church, Don was a retired lawyer who actually told lawyer jokes. Some of them were even funny!  He was a faithful attendee to the 9:30 service on Thursdays (as well as the 8:00 service on Sundays) and as a result we became friends. We sat together at the Newcomer's Lunch and were part of the same listening session. I learned that he had trouble understanding some of the Apostle Paul's teachings and did feel that tithing had no biblical support. He was opinionated. He was also a bit of a mystery when it came to his life before White Rock and I was looking forward to getting to know him better and finding out more about his life. Unfortunately I did not get that chance. Don died in his apartment on Boxing Day. I suppose when you reach my age, you assume that you will experience more deaths. His was unexpected however and I was shaken. 
     Don had suffered through weeks in a neck brace after a fall. He was stoic and patient with the process though and I admired that about him. Another thing that I liked was that he would bring folks from his apartment building to church with him from time to time. Regardless of their faith background, he was happy to introduce them to us, his friends at church. At the last service I attended with him, Don informed me that he had gallstones and they were the cause of all his recent medical appointments. When standing up at the altar together for communion, he patted my arm and told me that he was happy to be there with me. It was such a kind moment!

     Sometimes we cannot understand when people we care for die when they do. We all die of course but the how and when is not of our choosing and therefore one of the mysteries of life. As a Christian I must believe that Don is in a better place. However I would have liked a little more time with him in this place.