tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-200356302012-01-26T22:03:05.791-06:00Living my life on Re-Purpose.joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.comBlogger9341100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-54537257891881580062012-01-26T16:52:00.003-06:002012-01-26T17:13:42.831-06:00

You might think that browsing on kijiji is a colossal waste of time. You probably spend your bored moments studying international politics; brushing up on geography, and rearranging your linen closets.I don't have a linen closet, so I often invest my precious time on kijiji looking at things that I don't need. Things that other people bought, and now they don't really want anymore, so they are

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-22748000097353574772012-01-19T13:53:00.003-06:002012-01-20T11:27:15.309-06:00

In this line of workmy wardrobe is always laid out..... on the floor beside my bed. I have been known to wear the very same pants for four and five days consecutively.I never have to pack a lunch. Sometimes I start lunch at 11:00 am with a couple of peanut butter cookies, make a sandwich around noon, and then wrap the whole works up with vanilla yogurt, peanuts and raisins, and some licorice

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-72825257252456574832012-01-19T08:21:00.003-06:002012-01-19T09:03:43.001-06:00

Last night at the thrift shop, I ran into a woman who I know from around town. There was something different about her. She has always been pretty, but there was a softness and appeal about her that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I asked her- did you grow your hair out or something?" Well, yeah, she said, "but I also lost eighty pounds....""wow!" I say. Did you follow some sort of

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-5597490101996207762012-01-12T13:12:00.003-06:002012-01-12T14:29:18.104-06:00

Last week, while I was on holidays, it was really exciting and invogorating to imagine forging into 2012 whilst being fierce. It seemed entirely possible, and just within my reach. These days I'm back to wondering if fierceness consists of making toast or sandwhiches without screaming. If fierceness as I'd hoped it would appear is probable in this life of joyce!joycie!jo-weeeees!but a closer

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-69706049087723537802012-01-08T09:48:00.004-06:002012-01-08T10:07:43.549-06:00

(from a smart blogger at http://lovelife.typepad.com/my_weblog/2012/01/look-out-2012.html). I don't have much except the phrase above. BE FIERCE.. Don't worry - I'm not going to race around scatching people in the eyeballs and roaring like a beast. I'm not going to be mean or nasty. I'm simply going to be FIERCE. Doubt has this ridiculous way of being a sly creeper. Making edges soft and shining

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-71640246294477449622012-01-01T21:27:00.002-06:002012-01-01T21:32:20.783-06:00

Sam: "mom, can I have some coke?"Me: "Sam, have you eaten any real food today?"Sam: "yup. I had cereal for breakfast and pickles for lunch!"

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-73556801198057084552011-12-31T09:42:00.005-06:002012-01-01T13:20:57.371-06:00

I ampetty, forgetful, insecure, resourcefulkind, resentful, worried, and afraid.Introspective, anxious, easy-going,gracious.Generous, shrewd, selfish, stubborn.funny, sullen, irritable, friendly.gifted, stupid, brave, and terrified.fat and thin and fine and exhausted.rested, read, curious, and compelled.Intelligent, inspired, complacent, passionate.Assertive, apologetic, timid, bull-headed.And

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-58317943978217378652011-12-30T08:22:00.003-06:002011-12-30T08:55:50.920-06:00

I took the camera everywhere with me this Christmas.I love looking at life in review through photographs- it helps me recognize all the goodness that is so constantly and readily available to us.But did I take any pictures?!I can't find them.And that makes it feel as though none of it really happened.But I'm pretty sure that my sister decorated the entire tree at our parents, as she does every

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-67345442676736054332011-12-27T07:21:00.008-06:002011-12-27T07:59:42.683-06:00

Brian's birthday is in the middle of December, so he's always kind of gotten the shaft when it comes to properly celebrating the man who so many of us love.This time was going to be different. I couldn't let this birthday slip by underwhelmingly as it had been an epic year for my spouse. He'd gotten his determined and stubborn hat on last January and decided to get fit, lose weight, and ignore

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-89003099875532722182011-12-25T10:30:00.001-06:002011-12-25T10:58:55.540-06:00

I like to say that Sam is our only planned child.Our first daughter came along five years premature- just one month into Brian's return to school to begin and complete his education degree. She was welcome and adored and somehow we even managed to feed her.And once we found ourselves in the bliss and delirium of parenthood in all its glamour, we kind of took on a whatthehell attitude and allowed

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-11168429317922246222011-12-16T07:13:00.002-06:002011-12-16T07:57:38.919-06:00

Is my husband's birthday.The first time I met him, he was seventeen.He made me laugh while we worked the dish pit together(posing as camp counsellors by day and night...)Years later I would learn that I created a huge distraction to his role of canoe instructorLooking the way I did in a bathing suit at sixteen....We were twenty-two and twenty-three when we reunited.I still looked pretty good in

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-24072061837464451072011-12-14T12:36:00.006-06:002011-12-14T13:14:42.408-06:00

Bathroom carpet.Just re-decorating after we potty trained the twins. Melon baller.Purchased at Dollarama only a few months ago. Almost new but out of package.Makes a great gift! Used sports equipment.Decided to switch back to badminton.Beautiful sock.Could be worn on left or right foot.Please send me a private message, if interested. Heel of rye bread. Left on counter overnight after long party

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-37400581442122479932011-12-12T13:47:00.005-06:002011-12-12T14:29:14.447-06:00

I never told the boys about Canadaand hockey.Which kept us happily avoiding arenas for many a year.However.The threat of their imminent or eventual deportation loomed in my imagination, so we laced up and limped our way to the community ice rink.Which is located directly behind our house.As it has been for several years.We're under- achievers, and never wanted to appear to be too

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-50891696420302009402011-12-06T07:51:00.004-06:002011-12-06T09:46:29.827-06:00

December first is traditionally Hildebrand Christmas tree acquisition day. Now,since my family also has a tradition of hating the trees that I bring home, I was thoughtful enough this year to bring along a delegate from the offspring to represent his siblings.He mostly embarrassed me by saying; "I like pie" when the lovely tree sellers asked him polite questions like; "How are you?". That's when

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-25954673060894241312011-12-02T10:44:00.005-06:002011-12-02T11:08:39.123-06:00

Lately, the nicest, kindest, gentlest thing I can think of to do is just find a warm spot to bury my head into a quilt and kind of hope it just all goes away. While around me, the season is steadily shifting.With the annual Lego advent calendar waiting patiently for December the first, Sam shoots out of bed, yawning and squinting, ready for the traditions to begin. Always fond of Christmas, I

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-52590070058598168622011-11-30T07:43:00.003-06:002011-11-30T09:24:43.404-06:00

I am writing to voluntarily withdraw myself from any and all future home parties.Direct sales ventures contain a toxic quality which inadvertently and uncontrollably render me incapable of basic party etiquette.For example.When you tell me that your products are bought by celebrities (!), you've actually triggered my defense against this culturally accepted obsession of imitating starving

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-26361565021892855932011-11-24T13:15:00.002-06:002011-11-24T13:25:52.727-06:00

And sometimes I get really tired of my house being a chronic mess.Full.of crumbs and kids and marker lids.crusty bits and missingmagnetsthat used to hold thingson the fridge.broken chairs fromtoo much climbingtippingpushing. But I got peed on because some sweet soulmissing her mamaclimbed on my lap.And while I stroked her angelic hairshe drifted offand warmedmemore.Sometimes the kids will call

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-52747991980049529692011-11-22T07:24:00.003-06:002011-11-22T10:08:33.147-06:00

She left in the middleof livingFlour dusting her sifterbecause she was not yet doneWe who were leftmet together for faspawith her jellyher cookiesher platters andmugs.While sifting through a lifetime of her buttonsand planningmore lifefor them all.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-48621189134599276822011-11-18T11:11:00.005-06:002011-11-18T14:56:00.061-06:00

On the night before my 44th birthday, Brian wanted to take me out for dinner. To a quaint, sophisticated Italian restaurant right downtown Winnipeg called Tres Visi. It's beautiful and yummy- we've been there before.I told him that I really love food courts.I love the sociology, the diversity, the many faces and paces of humanity, and the sense that I can get up and wander around at any moment

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-46120741262608938552011-11-15T17:20:00.002-06:002011-11-15T17:24:21.182-06:00

44 Thoughts On My BirthdayWhat I Learned From Burger NightHell Hath No Fury As a Pacifist SpurnedWhy Sometimes a Trip to the Thrift Store is all I Really NeedI didn't have a chance to write any of those.And I really miss you, my online friends.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-64156518646213201882011-11-13T09:43:00.003-06:002011-11-13T09:52:03.545-06:00

This morning there's no big white car across the street from my house.My auntie has been roaring around town in that car for years- picking up the elderly and depositing them at the church door before parking at the far end of the parking lot to leave the close spots for the infirm.She's ninety-three.Two days ago she and her elderly friend left an event early, in order to get home before

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-4108075408807954752011-10-31T10:54:00.003-05:002011-10-31T11:18:06.858-05:00

When I'm feeling blue or bored, I love to spend time on such internet vehicles as pinterest ; craftgawker, etsy, stumbleupon,dwellinggawker, apartment therapy and even kijiji.I'm amazed at the creativity out there.But sometimes; inexplicably, I'm troubled. Creeped-out, even. Possibly enraged and anxious at some bizarre artistic level.So please.Do not photograph innocent barely born humanoid

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-30883769444840447572011-10-14T07:48:00.003-05:002011-10-14T09:04:39.086-05:00

Some people are really good at presenting themselves. They have simple, waste free ways of toilet training their babies by one and a half hours of natural childbirth. They cook all their meals a day ahead in the crock pot using dandelion greens their goat chewed off the front lawn. They're thin and occasionally munch on whole grains while busying their hands on stitching organic undies for their

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-48854271266616178752011-10-06T12:40:00.002-05:002011-10-06T12:56:16.832-05:00

People talk about texting and e-mail posing problems because you communicate without the aid of body language and inuendo. I say- give me the written word. I never think fast, and writing allows me to pause mid-sentence, mid-thought and re-evaluate, edit, and re-read so I'm more sure that my words are saying what I want them to.The phone makes me feel panicky because its jarringly immediate.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-18573853151594300472011-09-26T07:32:00.006-05:002011-09-26T11:08:35.018-05:00

Because when I spend all my free time/drool on my keyboard/abandon all hope of keeping up with the houseBecause when I invest valuable time on pinterest nurturing my creative side, finding inspiration which in turn I use to make my home a sanctuary, thereby immeasurably enhancing the lives of my children and all who cross my threshold...It makes me a better person.Really, it does.It has to, or

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-36211053799623889612011-09-12T14:04:00.003-05:002011-09-12T14:21:19.494-05:00

Christmas is expensive.So is summertime; what with the holidays, the car trips, the snack foods, and the cooler drinks.September is outrageous! All the school fees, lesson start-ups, school supplies, overpriced agendas, sport fees, special groceries, new shoes......Spring is expensive too. It must be because everything else is, and at some point when I wasn't thinking at all, I got a house, four

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-87408910480567114572011-09-09T13:51:00.006-05:002011-09-09T14:37:49.176-05:00

(heretofore referred to as "The Tomato Story"There's nothing quite like home-cooked salsa. Canned in the midnight days of summer; the ripening days of fall; and munched down all winter long. It's kind of like canning sunshine.Now, I'm no miser when it comes to sharing my secrets. Please enjoy this, the second post in the "DIY Series: A Beautiful Thing". Feel free to take notes, republish this to

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-64841174821658935912011-09-04T20:52:00.007-05:002011-09-04T21:43:37.005-05:00

Find a lovely dresser beside a dumpster. Drive under the cover of dark to avoid shameful exposure to townspeople with dignity. Load curbside furniture into backside of van and drive home very carefully so as to avoid newly acquired prize from sliding out of rear of vehicle.Note the likely reasoning for depositing dresser at curbside. Recognize my own thrifty- and resourcefulness. Feel a sense of

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-80435441194008696452011-08-31T08:23:00.003-05:002011-09-01T07:47:55.248-05:00

"Febreze® believes everyone deserves to breathe happy, and we want to prove it every day, to real people, in real life. " These are your words. Lifted from your web page. I'm a real life, real people. And I'm not happy. My children watch way too much television. And if that isn't enough to make me unhappy, I am vicariously subjected to your disgusting commercials at frequencies well beyond

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-32570116869261004622011-08-30T13:26:00.003-05:002011-08-30T13:33:47.750-05:00

Somebody fed the dog corn. Which said dog ate, then puked onto the blanket that was (fortunately) strewn across the couch. The blanket got balled up and deposited outside the bathroom/laundry room. The daughter got sudden onset stomach flu, and rushing off to the bathroom, she came up to the locked door as someone else was taking a shower. Seeing the balled up couch blanket outside the

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-15098862184231972832011-08-25T08:05:00.002-05:002011-08-25T08:22:43.953-05:00

Perception. When warped, is the start of much of our troubles. Once I started reading this painfully honest memior of life with anxiety and its evil stepsisters- anorexia and bulimia, I couldn't stop til I got to the end. And then I wanted more. I must commend this actress, living in the very public eye, for revealing her dark, dark journey for all the world to read. I know she'll be

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-47735426506302267832011-08-17T17:46:00.002-05:002011-08-17T18:02:16.354-05:00

(alternate title: "she worries she'll never really be well" and/or: "she wants more for her daughters... and yours") Starting out is easy. three cups of coffee. black. no cigarettes since I couldn't see the sustainability of it. not that I haven't considered. Several hours later, I get the hunger. and remember. cut back on carbs sugar fat carbs. Should I eat an egg? Not with those garden

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-17545553306447835642011-08-13T09:12:00.002-05:002011-08-13T09:39:24.509-05:00

It was time to unpack her bags, and reset her early morning alarm. She knew she'd be happy to see their little faces at her door again. She knew they would make her laugh and she would marvel again at the wonder wrapped in pre-school packages. She knew she'd feel relieved at the return of routine, she'd enjoy living in the back yard, and filling their days with the simple pleasures of walks,

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-71213288187521760302011-08-06T12:16:00.000-05:002011-08-06T12:21:06.230-05:00

MennoniteIn NivervilleSews in her basement.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-4025121559788836542011-08-05T21:12:00.002-05:002011-08-05T21:25:53.744-05:00

.............it dawned on her.There was simply no time whatsoever in which to fit inher job.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-46629791996609523172011-07-27T23:12:00.002-05:002011-07-27T23:18:24.822-05:00

Dear Seven Readers of the blog I called; "Be kind to your thighs".It turns out that I am waaaay too dysfunctional to write such a deep and mystical blog with the type of title that indicates that its writer is actually kind to her thighs.She's not.She has dark and unpublishable thoughts about various parts of her body. She's actually very messed up- spending hours a day thinking about how

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-3908982763194452642011-07-23T18:26:00.002-05:002011-07-23T18:41:18.670-05:00

Even adults who knowlingly clothe themselves in triple way stretch jersey shirts with winnie the pooh emblems (complete with adorable pictoral representations) are deserving of true love and joy in this lifetime.Smokers who gather outside of hotel buildings with a drink in one hand and a large belly in the other sometimes inspire envy in me. They're so utterly free of anxiety about health and

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-24367990227731365762011-07-17T20:07:00.006-05:002011-07-17T22:01:26.644-05:00

There's this thing that really functional families do during heat waves.They pack up all their bedding, most of their dishes and a countertop oven, fold out chairs and homemade muffins, camera, tylenol, swimsuits, coolers on wheels,......And the dog.Then they go sleep in a hot little house on wheels while the Wonder Bread grows cultures and three plums and cherries jostle for space in the

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-61422318117894593672011-07-11T10:27:00.008-05:002011-07-13T10:00:28.545-05:00

There are a lot of things to celebrate in summer.A lot.So many, in fact, that it's hard to find the time to adequately describe them.But.One thing I don't have in my fabulous Manitoba life is a Big Ass Truck.So that's why I had to travel to Alberta.Everyone there has a Big Ass Truck.And for company, I brought along three sisters.They're so old that they stop at the side of the road to stare at

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-91707400133407771292011-06-28T07:53:00.012-05:002011-06-28T12:08:33.519-05:00

To hasten the departure of its members, and present incentive to return in the fall, the local school presents awards to its most brilliant members at the close of the academic year. I wouldn't know this, except that this year, I got a phonecall suggesting that I might want to be present for the ceremony, since our daughter Jane was to become a recipient. We were all very proud, since this would

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-52177540697558349062011-06-24T07:34:00.002-05:002011-06-24T13:41:34.574-05:00

"the world is not respectable: it is mortal,tormented, confused, deluded forever;but it is shot through with beauty,with love, with glints of courage and laughter;and in these, the Spirit blooms."(George Santayana)Wherever possible, and to the extent that you are able- live with your heart wide open to the possibilities of love and redemption. Where life is painful and difficult, it is tempting

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-71158933140863493482011-06-15T13:37:00.006-05:002011-06-20T10:18:13.343-05:00

Perennials. Daisies that just come up year after year and never let me down with their wide-eyed beauty. Garlic chives. who knew that they were so LOVELY?! Irises and peonies always bring me warm memories of life in Brandon.The full, mature peonies came with the house, and thus began a lifelong love affair with their anty, heady scents and gorgeous full blooms. The irises were transplanted from

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-25967475106850947462011-06-14T09:01:00.005-05:002011-06-14T13:01:12.296-05:00

Ridiculous things that masquerade as breakfast cereals. REALLY??I actually have a physical visceral reaction in the cereal aisle at superstore.But no, I'm not a purist. Even though I know that honey nut cheerios probably are not the best choice of breakfast foods, I buy them. Always have. Always will till my kids are grown up. As for my own early morning choices? Bread and butter make me

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-78996285324323935942011-06-12T19:50:00.009-05:002011-06-12T20:33:31.330-05:00

How do you turn a heap of rubble into a cozy shop in a matter of hours?You commission the farm truck of epic awesome-ness, call on your loved ones, and tell your kid to skip out of school for the afternoon, of course!Then you find your 10 x 10 foot space on what is typically main street, and you get to work- fiddling, pruning, rearranging, and primping.A few hours later, you'll have a cozy little

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-46100479982520368172011-06-07T13:13:00.002-05:002011-06-07T13:20:44.259-05:00

I'm very patient.But sometimes when five preschool girls all decide to play "babies" and they all want to be the baby....I want to rip my hair out from the roots.All that crawling and ba-bahing and wa-wah-whining makes me want to morph into Miss Hanigan the likes of which even little orphan Annie hasn't seen.So I turn on CBC radio and hope that I can hear just a little bit of an interesting

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-14380146301442008942011-06-06T10:11:00.001-05:002011-06-06T10:14:21.092-05:00

My B.A. ........Now I just have to work on the gs4darfur.(just four sleeps until the fair!!)

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-53120496215715948432011-06-02T15:09:00.004-05:002011-06-02T17:44:47.304-05:00

I never played sports.I never expected my parents to cart me all over God's green earth and back on any Tuesday/Wednesday/AnyDay of the week.And I suspect that they wouldn't have; which is why I never asked.But I'm a whole generation removed from that now, and now I sit in the driver's seat.I'm the mom.And my children do expect. Assume.Actually, I quite want to drive my kids to their events. It

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-67994620819938348732011-06-01T13:41:00.001-05:002011-06-01T13:42:09.505-05:00

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-80623785157662423802011-05-25T13:31:00.002-05:002011-05-25T13:56:54.547-05:00

I never used to worry about "saying the wrong thing".But that's well before I said the wrong thing. With disastrous consequences.And now I worry.I worry about saying too much and saying too little. Saying something or saying nothing at all.I used to believe that it was the heart that counted. That because I meant well, and I wanted to be honest, and be a good friend, and seek authenticity; that

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-67755020690334405142011-05-19T08:00:00.007-05:002011-05-19T21:30:24.873-05:00

Recently, I've been thinking about my chosen career as Daytime Mommy.I've been thinking about what it keeps me close to- my home, my garden, my pets, my heart. My laughter, my home, my love for authenticity. I love working at home. I love having these little people show up at my door, full of expectation that we're going to have a lot of fun on this day.I love their trusting little faces, their

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-23766076963648400782011-05-13T11:38:00.014-05:002011-05-13T23:48:01.296-05:00

I hadn't seen her in twenty years.We first met in 1987 when we landed up on the same cross Canada musical tour that was the outcome of time well spent at Capernwray Harbour, Thetis Island, BC.We drove our van-mates crazy. Constantly. All the way from Silberfeld Manitoba to Burnaby, BC. We laughed at all the same outrageous things. Behaved obnoxiously. Laughed some more.When the tour ended, and

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-36385315975926962502011-05-10T06:51:00.003-05:002011-05-11T11:01:31.559-05:00

My mom does all her own stunts. My mom isn't afraid of laughing out loud.She does a lot of it and it's sheer joy to me. My mom has been walking nearly every day since the 70's. While her peers wait in their geriatric rooms for meals on wheels, my mom marches down to the grocery store to purchase a few items for the soup she's brewing. Being the very Queen of All Things Thrifty, my mother would

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-64463999131009716812011-05-05T13:33:00.000-05:002011-05-05T13:35:10.866-05:00

I really do.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-4364360617843971892011-05-02T07:31:00.004-05:002011-05-04T07:10:16.685-05:00

Life is good.So very, very good.Here's a tiny bit of it:Hosting an Aussie friend I've not seen in twenty years has made me pause and ask some pertinent and life altering questions:What would you rather wear: a TANK TOP; or a singlet?Would you rather hitchhike; or dink a ride?Would you rather have BANGS or cut a fringe?Have a green pepper, or enjoy some capsicum?And there's more.So much more.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-32019379426311171502011-04-27T11:52:00.003-05:002011-04-27T14:32:16.849-05:00

One of the things in life that I've never quite forgiven myself for is the prickly point of never having finished my degree and thereby having never made anything of myself.I felt like a failure before entering University, and then exiting before having any letters behind my name, and not being able to turn that investment into a bonified job only magnified my sense of inadequacy.But now I'm in

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-59007116097146903012011-04-17T13:12:00.005-05:002011-04-17T18:49:34.661-05:00

I dream every night that I have to move. I've no car, no moving truck, no boxes. But I have an awful lot of stuff. Some of it is broken, dirty, laying in mud puddles, or piled up in musty sheds. I don't know what to do with it all. In my dreams I move into and out of different houses. Large, multi-storied, rambling places filled with tapestries, old wood, bright colours, forgotten rooms. Holes in

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-67725586683986179422011-04-13T09:02:00.008-05:002011-04-13T10:06:37.638-05:00

Just gather up a few of your favourite fifteen year old friends and change things up a little. A flower here, some black polish over there. Wrap it all up with punching a couple of holes where you didn't have holes before. Pick a place where you can hear the sizzle of a large graphic tattoo being burnt into someone's butt just a doorway or two down the way.Spare your daughters' friends

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-68998844348288475582011-04-08T08:57:00.010-05:002011-04-08T13:02:14.412-05:00

You've changed quite a bit within the years that I've known you. My sweet cherub. I can still feel the way you felt in my arms. All curly and sweet- sensitive and pretty from the very start. I was so thrilled to have you, my girl. We loved mucking around outside! Every afternoon after your daddy left for work we would walk to the park in the green wagon. We would look at the trees, swing on

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-64361401555956484322011-04-04T14:47:00.006-05:002011-04-04T15:12:33.025-05:00

Hey, Micah. You're thirteen today. Yesterday I told you that I'd better take a long, hard look at you because you'd never be the same again; and I was right. You're thirteen now, but not that long ago you were my wee baby. So precious and beautiful you are. We were all so happy that you had arrived- that we could study you, hold you, get to know you. You started to balance out the female

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-7576604429776913132011-04-01T07:38:00.016-05:002011-04-01T09:05:16.699-05:00

When it comes to rides.... Brian has more guts than I do. Points to him for doing the crazy roller coaster with his almost grown-up kid. That sometimes a ride isn't so much about the ride as it is about posing for the camera. That standing around and watching someone draw a caricature of your kids only increases ones fondness for them. That bringing a camera into a restaurant and using it while

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-7929469456402730122011-03-25T14:21:00.002-05:002011-03-25T15:10:03.521-05:00

So I was sitting around letting my thoughts lazily carve a path of their own.I was thinking about how Readers Digest posts these heroic stories of someone at the very edge of imminent death, when some hero comes along and because of their "quick thinking", they move to immediate action and save the poor soul.I was thinking about how I'll never be one of those people who are accused of being a "

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-18811722591085914582011-03-21T10:53:00.003-05:002011-03-21T11:04:54.691-05:00

Sometimes the best thing that can happen to my week is Monday."Good-bye, my dears. Have a good day at school....""Welcome toddlers- you who (usually) listen to me, rarely sneer, and whose needs seem so basic- so attainable."Parenting rips my heart out sometimes.I feel unqualified.Inadequate.Angry and sad.These are really decent kids that I'm referring to. I've had it really good.But they have

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-481831320650666302011-03-13T10:31:00.004-05:002011-03-13T11:46:05.210-05:00

So, the husband and I were invited to a 40th birthday party at the local curling rink.Now, I've never been accused of being particularly sporty, much less coordinated, or quick on my feet. But I must confess to being drawn inexplicably to this anomoly of an indoor outdoors when salty words like party, or hurry hard were dangled before my insatiable senses.Besides- it's not as though I went in

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-51037216014021842692011-03-07T13:41:00.005-06:002011-03-07T13:49:38.895-06:00

1."Aside from calling him fat and abnormal; I don't think I was condescending....." (errrrg... I may have overheard myself say those words....* grimace, smirk, blush*...)2. "Sister- how do you play that game Paparazzi?"/ Sister: " What?!" / "I said- how do you play that game- Paparazzi?!" / Sister: " It's YAHTZEE." (overheard in my life as an advisor to pre-schoolers)3. "okay, let's play

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-54845648381173066182011-03-06T21:50:00.004-06:002011-03-06T22:13:04.075-06:00

I'd like to outgrow my need for approval.I don't need it all the time, but like a little baby who likes her binky and boo-boo, I still want to soothe myself on some comforting approval whenever my soul gets sleepy or sad.When I'm being obnoxious, I want people to understand that I'm just blowing my horn. When I'm sad and sentimental, I don't want to written off. When I rant and rave, I wish it

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-1721269994236115322011-03-01T10:38:00.003-06:002011-03-01T10:45:22.136-06:00

Are you looking for something positive and uplifting?You're in the wrong place.I don't like snow days. I don't like things switched up at the last moment (that moment being 6:00 AM, which is an awfully early time to start a morning; in my opinion).I don't like the house filled up with children ranging in age from forty-four to eighteen months. Oh, I like the pre-schoolers, and I was expecting

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-29461227808834364632011-02-24T20:43:00.002-06:002011-02-24T20:51:24.075-06:00

I've spent a lot of time this winter being bored.Really bored.I've had enough time to do all the necessary things. Enough time for the laundry, the dishes, the paperwork, and all the other glamorous things that life as a grown-up entails.But I've noticed that I'm just really not keeping up anyway.A few weeks ago for some mysterious reason, I got re-inspired to pick up the darfur project thread.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-43806207648206725012011-02-20T16:04:00.002-06:002011-02-20T16:19:17.482-06:00

.... the day I determine to find the original surfaces. A counter that is utterly bare. No backpacks, muffins, valentines, sheets to sign, novels, cameras, or lego scraps.A table. Laying in wait and expectation. This eases the transition into noticing the beautiful corners of my world. The tiny vignettes, the ordinary joys, the delightful details. And the knowledge that the weekend has indeed

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-40414935199330292762011-02-17T11:02:00.001-06:002011-02-17T11:07:43.736-06:00

And how was YOUR day at the office?!

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-65867608404495029442011-02-16T20:02:00.004-06:002011-02-16T20:16:28.404-06:00

It's no wonder a whole day got set aside to celebrate Valentine's day. Just observe its powers: Little brother writes love notes for big sisters. Daytime kid makes out her very own valentine cards, complete with phonetic spelling.Packing school snacks is easy, since heart shapes seem the only applicable choice. And for this one special day in February, craft time is snack time!

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-7660536456575566282011-02-13T12:55:00.002-06:002011-02-13T13:29:26.556-06:00

I've been happy at 150 lb. I've been terrified at 150 lb. I've been happy at 127. I've been terrified at 127. I've gone into the hospital nine months pregnant at 154. I've lived unpregnant and happy at 154.My size doesn't actually define my level of satisfaction.But my state of mind most certainly does.My size doesn't entirely determine how confident/comfortable/attractive I feel when

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-66863370795868757942011-02-11T09:01:00.002-06:002011-02-11T09:05:52.022-06:00

The Brother:"Joyce? Can I be two things when I grow up?""Sure- like, you could be a firefighter AND a nurse"."Because I'm not sure what to choose. I want to be a cool car driver AND a wild guy.""Oh! awesome. Well, what you could do is be a cool driver like; Monday through friday and then on Saturday and Sunday you could go into the wild!"The Sister:"Joyce- I'm going to be Cinderella AND Belle."

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-27341612456317025932011-02-10T10:50:00.002-06:002011-02-10T11:05:42.004-06:00

Kids appear to want sets of toys. They appear to want toys in general.But what kids want is small coloured objects of varying sizes and shapes to throw onto the floor. They need something to trip over, and crush as they run in endless circles around the staircase. These floor-bound objects, once in their desired positions on the floor, release childrens' ability to scream and exert excessive

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-48220430002362387102011-02-07T06:25:00.002-06:002011-02-07T11:13:32.792-06:00

DARNIT!!!

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-53966951778225684872011-02-04T07:45:00.002-06:002011-02-04T07:51:59.175-06:00

It had vexed her for much of her lifetime: Why did she feel so "not of this world"? Why did she not identify more closely with her peers? Why did her thoughts and ambitions always seem so far fetched?She decided to become more observant.At the very next meeting of the relatives, she tapped into a higher sense of awareness and really looked at the humans she called her forefathers. And in an

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-82298347683707403252011-01-31T19:45:00.002-06:002011-01-31T20:21:54.542-06:00

Last summer, I agreed to "foster parent" a dog. It wasn't a big dog, and in my imaginings, this arrangement would simply mean more of the same for our family. I mean- we have a dog. So, if we had two dogs, that would just two blobs of fur sleeping on the couch. Their needs are relatively simple- adore me, feed me, walk me, and let me out to pee.That part didn't go too badly. But what I

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-23245958174786581802011-01-30T15:30:00.002-06:002011-01-30T15:52:47.350-06:00

(Glory to the Mundane)"When was the last time you paid attention to the bread tag on your sliced bread? The sticker on your fruit? The tag in your dry-cleaned shirt? These artifacts are at once familiar, yet hardly noticed. But even though these ephemera of life are so basic, each was designed by someone who actually thought about how that little object ought to look. Abbey (from Aesthetic

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-13422040610348665522011-01-24T21:52:00.005-06:002011-01-25T07:04:40.657-06:00

It's been a nearly insurmountable challenge; this being born with two left feet beneath knees that bend in alternate directions; and thighs made up entirely of unidentifiable materials. Aside from the obvious challenges in purchasing footwear, the darkest, saddest, most unfortunate side has existed in the impossibility of participating in varsity ball as a teenager.Now, clearly seven steps of

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-45090197129178486832011-01-19T15:07:00.004-06:002011-01-20T06:51:37.941-06:00

My house is sandwiched between two churches. On Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings I love to watch the comings and goings and speculate on the subtleties of human nature.The church located directly across the street also serves us in ways that the ministerial never intended. In spring when our yard is sloppy and mucky, the children and I haul the wheeled toys across the street and enjoy the

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-67432970993108267812011-01-17T14:43:00.003-06:002011-01-17T19:50:31.515-06:00

Now, I understand that at first glance I probably appear to be one of those indiscriminate hoarders. But it taint true attall. Nope, the things that I hold my greedy mitts onto for years on end qualify in one of the following categories: They are eitherbeautifulfunctional; ordelightfulIrma; placed resolutely before her large bowl of asparagus is not particularly beautiful or very high functioning

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-23183910506681951572011-01-15T21:00:00.005-06:002011-01-15T21:41:52.019-06:00

Sometimes I get my hands on a book that blocks out the incessant demands of all that beckons and pressures around and at me. Those things simply must wait as I descend into a world that is constructed entirely of words not my own.David Bergen writes in violent, sensual imagery. Tempted to be offended, I am instead drawn into the images which depict loss, fear, desire, striving, and the search for

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-11625314480950017382011-01-10T20:50:00.005-06:002011-01-10T22:07:47.127-06:00

The house is seldom quiet enough to indulge myself in the lovely droning of CBC radio. But when I'm in the van, rushing off on some important milk and rye bread mission, I sometimes manage to get a little fix. Most recently, I was privy to Jian Ghomeshi's interview with Lynda Barry; author of "Picture This"."most people say, Oh my drawing’s so terrible, I really can’t draw. But then if you’re

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-52863227336198827662011-01-09T00:32:00.003-06:002011-01-09T01:20:52.636-06:00

(You are about to read a list of warnings detailing what-never-to-expect of Rosa Rabbit and Re-Joice. These never-before-read notations were painstakingly compiled in the wee hours of the night, one snowy January day amongst the hills of a border town in an undisclosed location. When seeking volunteers for any number of needs in your community, we implore you to please be mindful of the following

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-26883829117177688512011-01-07T12:25:00.009-06:002011-01-07T13:21:55.793-06:00

That disagreeing doesn't mean disliking.That anger is normal. Anger almost always masks fear (or some sort of “weaker,” more vulnerable emotion, such as anxiety, shame, guilt, helplessness, or grief (mediate dot com)That sometimes there is nothing that will immediately dissolve despair. (Geneen Roth said that somewhere.....)That other people's insights can be incredibly refreshing- even though

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-26574437175628833052011-01-04T10:54:00.003-06:002011-01-04T13:07:13.861-06:00

Raise at least $5,000.00 for Darfur/women, children, the oppressed, the forgotten.Go camping more than twice.Volunteer at an orphange (if indeed my daughter's youth group settles on this idea as a summer project)Bring outdoor brisk walking back into my life.Talk to God intentionally.Do some volunteering with my children.- Especially my teens. (We've been talking (years now?!) about working at a

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-11213972208304516672011-01-04T10:32:00.000-06:002011-01-04T10:35:06.344-06:00

I feel so much better now.

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-7063610590025748782011-01-01T13:49:00.004-06:002011-01-01T14:03:49.809-06:00

Gosh, it's painfully predictable, isn't it?As much as I think that new year's resolutions are stupid, futile, and painful ways to set myself up for failure- I find myself thinking "resolving" sorts of thoughts:you've got to quit drinking wine all the freaking time. Too many calories. Not a good habit.You've got to quit eating candy all the time. Too mmmmmmany calories. Not a good habit.You've

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-24108171951486221582010-12-30T18:39:00.004-06:002010-12-30T20:19:25.906-06:00

Micah has been making his way to the post office in the days past Christmas. Sadly, one of his gifts has not yet arrived.Today, however, he darted home to tell me that there was a package for me to sign for. I wasn't expecting any packages.....And I don't remember doing anything kind to deserve a lovely, mysterious, anonymous gift.Exhibit ABut you'd be amazed at how much time I can spend

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-41069158119942581432010-12-29T10:49:00.002-06:002010-12-29T15:42:19.215-06:00

To simplify my life, I wish I defined success by words that fit on a sepia coloured canvas just inside the front door.Live Laugh LoveThe best things in life are not thingsThe greatest of these is LoveBe the change you want to seeTo your own self be trueWork like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt and dance like no one is watchingblahblah, blahblahPlus a couple of lines

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-14121345853574903732010-12-27T07:51:00.011-06:002010-12-28T14:56:31.983-06:00

Christmas at my mom and dad's means that I land up in a chenille bed jacket that my sister apprehended off the head nurse in the Sanikiluaq hospital; a pair of broken reading/sun glasses; a horrer movie (that I'll never watch, since I'm still traumatized from commercials of The Changeling that I inadvertently subjected myself to while baby-sitting at the Reimers....back in 1979 or so...)I'll get

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-33251916729161689962010-12-24T16:36:00.007-06:002010-12-24T21:55:12.122-06:00

So, just around about the time that moderate people put up their Christmas trees.....Ours has already undergone a major transformation. Once vibrant, and yea- the very epitaph of the season's arrival.... Now, mere rubble cluttering up this uptown, upscale neighbourhood.Oh, the pressures.The bitter disappointments. My intial reaction was one of serenity.... What's the word they use now? Yin?

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-53262704760742956312010-12-18T23:27:00.007-06:002010-12-19T00:04:33.786-06:00

My mother sometimes worries that we rarely lock our doors. But I don't see what the big deal is: we've got two guard kitties and one really vicious schit-poo that's got an intimidatingly mean Bark.If we were to lock our door, tell me how we'd ever find Christmas gifts on our counter, competing for space with a can of tonic water, a shadow box frame that I just know I could do something with, and

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-21681110854013453252010-12-15T10:44:00.006-06:002010-12-15T16:06:20.042-06:00

Some people claim that it's unnecessary to go to the thrift shop every week. But what they can't adequately explain to me is: how would I have known that Christmas ought to be spent with the Old-Hams if I hadn't found that out at the thrift shop? How on earth would I have known what I needed? Fortunately, I rarely listen to sensible advice, and last week while shopping all alone on a Wednesday

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-20770806878475420462010-12-13T21:29:00.001-06:002010-12-13T21:31:49.574-06:00

I got tired of glueing stuff together for Christmas, so I thought I would invest large chunks of my time today watching this kitty cat get wrapped.I kid you not, I laughed so hard that I got tears in my eyes.Intervention? Someone? Please??

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-27422246485166389512010-12-05T07:55:00.005-06:002010-12-06T06:58:30.026-06:00

Getting involved in your community is an excellent way to form new relationships, align your passions with the heartbeat of your fellow neighbours, eat great food, and hear some awesome tunes. There are many other benefits, depending upon your area of interest, your skill level, and your popularity among the masses.Now, I will assume that getting involved in hockey, curling, and ringette opens up

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-85144721152085922152010-11-29T10:09:00.008-06:002010-11-29T13:45:10.955-06:00

Turning the place into a holiday appetizer.Pulling out photos from across the years at Christmas time and setting them up in little vignettes of pleasure here and there throughout the chaos that is home. Hanging up the snowflake that Micah made at Rose's preschool so many years ago. It still looks great.Walking past the christmas tree lot. Getting to a magical day without too much; wind, cold,

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-12481992051830396592010-11-23T17:45:00.002-06:002010-11-23T18:09:44.197-06:00

I bore meI miss writing when I didn't mentally visualize actual, for real forreal people who would read my words.I see the occasional "writing contest" and try to have one of those; "Self. You know you coulda/shoulda/woulda-but-I-know-ya Won't-ah" type conversations.I get bored early on and stop listening.I try to inspire me. There's lots of places to go-- like google images. Or other people's

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-29740288628927080892010-11-16T21:25:00.009-06:002010-11-17T07:44:58.897-06:00

.What's it like to be 43, fit, fun, and fabulous?.Well, when surrounded by women of tremendous strength and integrity, it is sort of inspiring, and well worth the ride. (triple chins notwithstanding)If not to her wise women friends; then where else can a Mennonite in a Little Black Dress go to learn that pluma moos and soora kumst borscht pair beautifully with a crisp white wine or a splash of

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-66101115035399878192010-11-11T11:21:00.005-06:002010-11-14T18:28:41.020-06:00

(thanks for making my birthday so special!)

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20035630.post-71456729867905123192010-11-10T16:07:00.004-06:002010-11-10T17:10:19.830-06:00

I'm going to be 43 tomorrow.On the day that my brother turned 43, he found out that the pain in his back and legs were the result of being colonized by blood clots, thanks to the monster that had taken over his bile duct. The big terminal "C".He'd never really walk again.His skin would turn yellow and green.His legs would swell to ballon-ous proportions, while his chest shrivelled into itself and

joycehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10269164806627544548noreply@blogger.com7