foto friday: the bay

It's shocking that department stores stay in business since most furniture, appliances, clothing and electronics can now be found at other, more specialized, megastores for much less.  Still, department stores continue to be one of the last habitats that one can find elderly women grazing peacefully on weekday afternoons.

My great, great aunt Dodie, who passed away when I was 18, took me to department stores when I stayed with her.  Since she also took me to the ROM, Queen's Park, and Centre Island, I naturally assumed The Department Store belonged on a shortlist of Toronto's attractions. We'd wander down the cosmetic aisles, explore the toy department,  and visit the artificial trees displays at Christmas.  Once, only once, when I found a $20 bill on the sidewalk by sheer luck (also due to generally looking down when I walked to avoid stepping on cracks) I was granted permission to spend it.  All of it.  Thus began a long, rewarding relationship with shopping.

I set about spending this small fortune on practical items, and bought a white pair of gloves.  I'm pretty sure Dodie encouraged me to buy a pack of underwear while we were at it which can only lead me to believe that I forgot to pack more than one pair on that particular visit.  After these investments I wildly spent the rest on a chickadee ornament (made from real feathers!), a plastic toy from Wendy's, and chocolate.  There was none left.  Thus began a long, debilitating habit of guilt/reward-based shopping.

When recounting the story later to my mother, I made a point of mentioning the gloves first. 

Something old-world and glamourous still captivates me when I walk through a department store.  Maybe it's in the wide, white aisles, the complimentary lighting, the posters of famous actresses-turned-models shot with even more complimentary lighting, the offers to try the elegant new fragrance from this designer, the life-sized Barbies styled in the daring new line from that designer, or the Pavlovian effect from first tasting buyer's delight/regret.

More likely, it reminds me of Christmas and of walking hand in hand with Dodie.  When I see elderly ladies grazing peacefully on weekday afternoons, I think of her.

wifersize wednesday: the couple that prays together...

If the slogan were true, presumably, there wouldn't be a 21-34% (BTW: who keeps saying 50%?...let's find that person and tell them to stop being a party pooper) divorce rate among those claiming to be Christians.  But I'm not here to rant about divorce or why/when/where/how it functions in society.  I'd rather stick to Precious Moments™ stuffed angel dolls.

No one needs to tell married people that marriage is difficult.  We know.  Just last night I had a near meltdown trying to decide if I wanted to watch "The Client", "Double Jeopardy", or "Micmacs" for date night.  Was I in the mood for a thriller starring Tommy Lee Jones, a different thriller starring Tommy Lee Jones, or a foreign comedy?  We consulted each of the films' Tomatometers, watched the trailers, and eventually resorted to rock, paper, scissors (first, between thriller and foreign, then between each of the thillers).  Andrew learned last night that when I say, "I don't care" about a movie choice, I mean just that.  Making me care will result in me wedging my head between couch cushions to scream.

Life isn't always easy and it doesn't just end at date night movie selection.  Sometimes it's job selection, or car selection, or house selection.  Sometimes it's family holidays, or hard days at work, or trying to have a baby.

Last April, when Andrew and I were in Mexico for a pastor's retreat (sounds glamourous, I know, except that we were only there for 48 hours which was just long enough for me to contract a case of explosive diarrhea), he rolled over in bed and proposed, "Let's pray together before we go to sleep.  It doesn't have to be long, and it doesn't have to be every night, but I'd like it if we prayed together."

It seemed like a decent enough question - after all: we are pastors.  Some of you are horrified that we don't pray together all THROUGH the night but, no, we don't.  We're human too.  We like to dive into bed after a long day, kiss, and fall asleep as soon as our bodies allow us to (10 seconds, on average, for me and about 40 minutes for Andrew).  We'd pray together for The Big Things but hadn't, as of yet, prayed regularly, every night, for everything.

And, because we're human, it was awkward at first.  Often we'd forget.  Often we'd I'd pretend to forget when really I couldn't think of anything to pray about, or I was mad at something, or I just wanted to sleep.  But we became used to it and now we do it fairly regularly.  You know what?  It's really, really nice.  Nicer than I thought it would be.  There's something wonderfully soothing about your husband's-right-beside-your-pillow-voice chatting to God about the day, about the problems we both faced in it, and about people in our lives we love.

The Washington Post wrote an article a little while back entitled "Couples who share religious practices tend to be happier than those who don't".  In it, an interviewed woman sums it up nicely:

"Prayer is the great reconciler."

Since marriage is difficult I figure we should invest on being reconciled to each other at least daily.  And since God was with us on Day 1 of our marriage, it's nice to end each of its days with him.

"The family that prays together stays together; 

and if you stay together, you will love one another with 

the same love with which God loves each one of us."

[Mother Theresa]

mama monday: dolce far niente

A few girlies and I watched "Eat, Pray, Love" on the weekend and delighted in all 38% of its tomato-freshness.  None of us are sure why it received such poor reviews (it's schmaltzy, romantic and fluffy...and that's exactly what we wanted) but we didn't let it ruin our opinion(s), or our enjoyment of treating ourselves to manicures and pedicures afterwards.  Sugar and spice and everything nice.

I would have been just as happy to watch the film on mute, so beautiful were the scenes shot on location in Italy, India and Bali.  One particular scene, set in Rome, stuck with me:

Find more videos like this on www.truveo.com.

I may have taken a course dropped a course in introductory Italian during university, and I may be married into an Italian family presently, but - let me assure you - dolce far niente doesn't come easily to me.  As, I expect, is the case for many of us. 

The baby-making issue raises its little head from time to time, reminding me (as many others have reminded me) to "take things easy", "just relax", and "rest yourself".  Perhaps babies have the good sense to avoid being conceived in an environment that lacks peace. 

Happiness is one thing, peace is something else.  I can be hostessing a party, reorganizing my day timer, attending a conference, or traveling to another country and be COMPLETELY HAPPY.  I feel fulfilled, energized, and alive.  But I don't know if I could say that I feel peaceful.  I kind of feel more like this:

(from Hyperbole & A Half)

When I looked up the expression that has stabbed me in the brain ever since I heard it, dolce far niente, which literally means "the sweetness of nothing", I found images that inspired me.  The phrase seems to have inspired many more, since artist after artist painted "Dolce far Niente"s and they all looked similar.  Peace, tranquility, rest, poise, ease.

Doing nothing.

foto friday: welcome to the castle

Last week I posted a photo of a lonesome little potted plant wedged in the window of The Castle.  The following is a detailed description of this fine citadel.

The Castle, a fearsome fortress of estrogen, stands in the kingdom of High Park.  Six princesses currently reside there, although Princess Grzetic is pledged to marry a prince from a neighbouring kingdom and she will be transporting her estate by chariot later next week.

The Castle boasts six private quarters, a wing dedicated to quiet study and artistic endeavours, two food preparation halls, two lounges for entertaining foreign delegates, a grand front entrance, manicured gardens, and a dungeon.

The princesses cohabit in harmony with each other and relative kingdoms around them.  The Castle has been the setting for many elaborate balls thrown in honour of the princesses or one of their aristocratic peers, including the 80s themed masquerade for Princess Seachrist before she was reinstated as royalty in her home nation.

Each one of the chambers are carefully decorated according to the discriminating tastes of each princess.  The following pictorial narrative reveals a rare glimpse into the boudoir of Princess Payne and, indeed, the life of the young monarch herself.

wifercize wednesday: five years ago

Andrew came up with the idea to watch all of Seinfeld's episodes, from the beginning, as dinner entertainment.  And we did.  All nine seasons.  One episode at a time.  I now salivate when I hear the opening theme.

When we ran out of Seinfeldseses, we switched to How I Met Your Mother.  It's a current show, but we wanted to start from the beginning.  Because we're precise like that.  SO DON'T TELL US WHAT'S CURRENTLY HAPPENING ON THE SHOW.  Ted and Robin, like, just got together so I'm really, really happy right now.

I've often occasionally fantasized about telling our kids, one day, the crazy storie(s) that lead their dad and mom together.  In my fantasy, our kids listen with rapt attention to the labyrinthine tale of romance and intrigue.  In reality, I'll probably dish them pieces of it throughout the years as anecdotal warnings of what not to do.

However, if I were to tell our kids the story of how we met I'd have to start with the story a year before the story which, conveniently, was around the same time we each started blogging.*  Although we originally met ten years ago, it was 2005 that became the year of the set up even though we were on different sides of the globe.

September 7, 2005 (click here)
Andrew was on his first trip to Italy, visiting relatives and celebrating his grandparents 50th wedding anniversary.  His post outlined 11 thoughts from his travels, including:

"I’m ok on my own but I don’t want to be ok on my own… it would be nice to have a wife here with me."

September 19, 2005 (click here)
I was teaching ESL in Pyeongchon, Korea.  My plans for further travel to Scotland had been thwarted (hence the dramatic post), essentially forcing me to return to Toronto after my contract ended in November. 

Andrew started a young adult church, finished his B.Ed, and suffered mild heartbreak and I spent six weeks in Great Britain, and joined as staff at the YWAM base in Port Credit, and suffered mild heartbreak all before we reunited at Billy & Sarah's wedding on March 10, 2006.

Looking at these pictures, I want to say to them: "Don't worry, past me.  Your plans have been foiled for a very good reason.  Don't worry, past Andrew.  Your wife will come to Italy with you one day."

How does your story begin?


*  Andrew has been blogging a full year longer than I have, and I have reason to believe he'd want you to know.  Because he's precise like that.

mama monday: serenity...now

If I were granted one superhero ability it would be to fly, although living outside of time would be tempting.  Especially when I'm in the process of waiting for something.  Which is all the time.

Last week my post about chilling out prompted a response from my brother.  Here's a bit of it:

here is one quote of a friend that has demolished me:

"if I had known where I would be today, I would have been smiling all along the way"

this was written a few days before his wedding.

as I'm a fan of brain-experiments with time/space travel - I love this. think about it; look at yourself a year ago worrying about whatever that was. now look at you life now. now look at you in the future, laughing your ass off at your circumstances you worry about today. (now look back at your man - sadly, he isn't me. this post is now diamonds!)

Not only did he score extra points by referencing Old Spice, but he also ended the comment with Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" (seriously, did anyone else know that Robin Williams is in that music video?).

The other day God said, "When you become pregnant, everything changes.  Your body changes, your priorities change, your spare time changes, and the attention of others changes - it will be on you.  For now, enjoy doing all the things that you want with your body, priorities, and spare time, and use them to pour attention out on others.  Because you can."

I love this quote:

"Once you bring life into this world, you must protect it. We must protect it by changing the world."  (Elie Weisel)

Instead of waiting for something to happen we can prepare for it to happen.  The song isn't just "Don't Worry" (we can't define ourselves by a negative), it's "Don't Worry, BE HAPPY."  If a time machine was serendipitously dropped into my life today, I'd (hopefully) have the sense to say, "No thanks.  I'm living in the present.  And there is plenty enough to do in the present to keep me occupied and happy."

Plus, it is said of the only one who is omiscient:

God is striding ahead of you. He's right there with you. He won't let you down; he won't leave you. Don't be intimidated. Don't worry.  (Deuteronomy 31:8, The Message)

---

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we're frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are. After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We'll certainly be happy when they're out of that stage.

We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, when we retire.

The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when?

Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Alfred D. Souza. He said, "For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."

This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with...and remember that time waits for no one.

So, stop waiting until you finish school, 

until you go back to school, 

until you lose ten pounds, 

until you gain ten pounds, 

until you have kids, 

until your kids leave the house, 

until you start work, 

until you retire, 

until you get married, 

until you get divorced, 

until Friday night, 

until Sunday morning, 

until you get a new car or home, 

until your car or home is paid off, 

until spring, 

until summer, 

until fall, 

until winter, 

until you're off welfare, 

until the first or fifteenth, 

until your song comes on, 

until you've had a drink, 

until you've sobered up, 

until you die, 

until you're born again 

to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

- Crystal Boyd

foto friday: bits of brown

A diversion from your Friday tasks.

I love this ad for TTC metropasses.  

It's unusual to find creative government-funded advertising.

A study in rust.

 

Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!  Cleaning day at Maison de Gazaneo.  Dishes, laundry, vacuuming.  The mountainous grouping of pillows seen in the far left are the insides of our couches.  Which we also laundered.  In a fit of cleanliness that left us both exhausted, our pets confused, and our house minty fresh.

Oberon, still determined to shed on the red couch.

This little plant has been wedged in the The Castle's* landing window all summer.  It makes me happy.

I can't tell you the extent of my love of hamsters.  

You would disown me.  This one is Emily's.

A charming place called the Holy Oak Café, at Bloor & Landsdowne.  It smells of cottage and feels equally as cozy.  The (decaf) Americano changed me.

*  More on The Castle next week.