* not with ink

This is probably the second most common question I hear about the baby currently in our care, right after, "Will you keep her?" It comes in many forms: "So, what's her story?" "Is her mom in the picture?" "How did she end up in your home? "Is her mom a drug addict?" "How could a mom not love such a cute baby!" I get it. It's natural curiousity, and I know I've asked similar questions of my friends who are adoptive parents. Who  wouldn't  be curious about this sleepy little bear!? But here's what I'm learning: a child's story is their own. And equally as important, the parent's story is their own. Imagine how it might feel to hear that for the foreseeable future, you are not allowed to care for your child. On top of whatever difficult circumstances you are already in - perhaps poverty, social isolation, lack of adequate housing, domestic violence, intergenerational trauma, drug or a...

Our first foster baby came with about 18 hours notice; it was respite care, which means we had him for a few days while his regular foster family had a break/dealt with a family emergency. He stayed 3 nights, long enough to come to church and have a dozen people cooing over his little sleeping cheeks.  With each new visitor to our quiet corner, I explained again that he would be going back to his foster family the next day. Barely a week later, we got a 9am phone call with a fostering request and by the same afternoon, we were snuggling her. This time, we had her for 4 days before church came around. Again, our community was keen to see the little one we had in tow. Again, the question, "How long will she stay?" And this time, "Are you going to adopt her?" Trying out the carrier... -- Here in Toronto, when a child is placed in foster care, it is always for an indefinite length of time. It depends on the parents' situation, and whether they are able to ...

It seems I finally have something(s) to say... Here's the first in a short (or maybe long?) series on Fostering FAQs. If you've got a question to add, feel free to comment/email/text/message me and maybe the next post will be in response. -- 8:30 am on Day 4 of parenting. I woke up in a panic two hours ago because I remembered that there is a baby and I am responsible for her (at least at 6:30am, when the man beside me will snore through anything). Now, I have put on clothes and eaten breakfast. The dogs are walked, there is a loaf of banana bread in the oven. My tea is steeping. Most importantly, Dream Baby is already down for her first nap. Despite my morning efficiency, I'm already beginning to see that even with the happiest, most easygoing, and smiliest baby, like we somehow managed to be given, parenting is a grind. On Friday night, I couldn't join friends for $5 pints at a local joint. Instead, I blearily washed the same 8 bottles again, and then made anoth...

I am one exam and zero classes from the end of my first year at seminary. One little teeny tiny totally cumulative Greek exam. No big deal. (ha) But seriously. The last eight eight months have flown by. The last year has been just as fast. To think that this time last year, I was training my replacement at my job, counting down the days to unemployment, travel, summer freedom, and SCHOOL. And now here I am. A whole year smarter, and a whole year more aware of how little I know. Many people have asked how I feel at the end of this year, whether it's been a good one and whether I like being in school... my answer to all of it is YES. Yes. I like school. Yes. It's been a good year. Yes. I feel like it has been a year of Yeses. Last weekend, I went to a retreat/workshop led by my spiritual director. It was called "Pray Through Play" and talked about the principles of improvisation and how they relate to our daily lives and relationships with Jesus. One of...

95. That is how old Grampie is, as of today. Can we think about this for a moment? Ninety-five years. That is a lot of living. A lot. I'm going to be celebrating this amazing man with my family this weekend. In case you've forgotten (or don't yet know) why I love my grandpa so dang much, here are a few other things I've written about him: It is strange and almost impossible for me to imagine him as a young man, gaunt and dirty and living in a trench for weeks on end. Seeing death come to those around him. Sending death to visit others. It hurts my heart. It makes me wish I could do something, sixty-five years later, to fix him; help him; give him back the innocence I don't even realize I carry with me. - A few weeks ago, I called Grampie...Our conversation, of course, turned to the war, and ... he made a connection I've never heard from him before. "You want to know what we saw? Just watch the news. The same things are still happening to...

Last night I needed to make cookies, and desperately wanted ginger cookies. Chewy, delicious, ginger cookies. So I found two recipes from brilliant food bloggers, and wound up with my own blend of a recipe. They were a huge hit with my Tuesday night-class Cookie Club and other friends, and most importantly, myself. Since I measured precisely (for a change), I thought I would share my recipe: 1/2 c. unsalted butter 2/3 c. packed brown sugar 1 1/2 tsp. ground ginger 1/2 tsp. cinnamon 1/2 tsp. cloves/allspice 1/4 c. molasses* 1 egg zest from 1/2 an orange roughly 1 Tbsp grated fresh ginger 2 c. flour 1/2 tsp. sea salt 1 1/2 tsp. baking soda 1/3 c. raw/white sugar, in a small bowl 1. Cream butter, brown sugar and spices. 2. Combine remainder of wet ingredients, add to butter mixture. Blend well. 3. Combine dry ingredients in separate bowl. Add to wet mixture, just to incorporate. 4. Forming small balls with the dough (I used a tablespoon-ish amount and rolled the...

For gorgeous fall weather and sunshine. For Laura's visit and presence and friendship in my life. For Les Miserables , one of the most beautiful and moving musicals. For roadtrips and francophones and family to visit.(QC, here we come!) For ultimate frisbee and seeing improvement in my game. For music mixes to mark the seasons. For beautiful spaces to study.

Best one yet. And not just because of my haul, although it was impressive: 3 tank tops 2 long-sleeve shirts 1 cardigan 1 knit sweater 1 dress (2ish, but I doubt I'll keep the second) 2 skirts 1 pair shorts 1 pair jeans 1 pair shoes 1 purse 1 necklace I wore a new outfit today, and I'll have new clothes on tomorrow, and probably the day after that, too! There were 15 lovely ladies of all kinds, and 2 wee babies who were passed around. Karen made an astounding lemon tart, cheddar & chive scones, and pocmorn*. Wine and teas and veggies and fruit and cheese. Much laughter and enthusiasm. Such a great time and thoroughly successful evening. Leftover clothes will be going to a local refugee community called Romero House . I really should have taken photos. Sorry for the lack of visualization. But hooray for a non-seminary post! If y'all are within driving distance, you should come in the spring. And if you're not, I highly recommend hosting your own!!...

Last weekend, I (along with 30,000 others) went to Simcoe for a music festival. Yes, thirty thousand. It was fantastic. I have a lot of thoughts that are not-quite-music-related, and I will likely (possibly) write another post about those. But first, I'd like to talk music! The Gentlemen of the Road tour headliners were, of course, fantastic. Edwarde Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros put on a trippy hobo show. I can't help but think their lead singer would have been an itinerant back-country revival preacher in the 1920's. Mumford and Sons brought the proverbial house down. I assume you've all seen or heard some of their songs, so there's no need to post any here. I would, however, like to introduce you to a couple of bands you may not know. First, it is important to note that there is a difference between country music and bluegrass music. If you've got a hate-on for country, I would plead with you to give bluegrass a chance. Maybe start by watching O B...

Sometimes on a Saturday morning, my to-do list looks like this: edit photos for S&J send photos to Sally blog: books, photos email: Ryan, Lisa, Jay fix: dresser, necklace craigslist: camera accessories, glassware buy: GROCERIES, shoes And my schedule looks like this: noon - Ruth's w/ bikes 3pm - Erika for coffee 7pm - Claire & (other) Ruth? I am trying to sort out how to make it all fit, when I realize I don't want to do any of those things at this precise moment. So I boil water and grab some Earl Grey and the last of the raspberries I picked from our overgrown bush this morning, and I take up the book I put down last night when my eyes couldn't stay open, and I curl up on the couch, and trust that I will do the needful eventually, and that this little time of quiet is valuable and necessary and allowed .

I had an idea on Thursday: one of the better ones I've come up with recently. Tomorrow (as of this writing) is June 30th. And at midnight on June 30th, we are officially halfway through the year. This deserves celebrating. So I'm declaring it a holiday!! dusk in my hood, earlier this spring The kind of holiday where you drink slowly in the twilight hours, on your deck, or in the yard, at the beach or around a fire. You talk with your friends about the best and worst of the year this far, and what you hope for the next six months. No loud fanfare, no countdown to midnight or fireworks (we have the next day for that, here in Canada, or a few day wait for my American friends). A holiday for the introverts and overthinkers among us, a chance to celebrate and regain perspective and anticipate the goodness in store. Care to join me?

Two thank yous: 1. All y'all who have said kind things since I made my grad school announcement. I have been surprised by the range of people it turns out are reading (or at least read one post) here. And I can't imagine a more encouraging community than you all. 2. Nadine, whose tweets yesterday led to a comment that I can use disqus on my site, which is (hopefully) going to change commenting forever. No more word verification! Let me know if disqus is somehow (inconceivably) worse than those awful captchas. I am certain we'll all be happier now. And a bonus round picture of the world's most adorable men. Grampie and Sebas hanging out... I can't stop looking and smiling. I hope when I am 94 I have both the ability and the opportunity to lie on the floor and play with a fat-cheeked baby.

It is Sunday morning, and I am headed to church for the first time in three weeks. I have opened my Bible once in the same timeframe. This is not how I want things to be, but it is how things are, and I do not feel guilty. There is no condemnation for those in Jesus, and for once, I feel that freedom. But I am not unaware of Easter, and its central importance in my life. It is all around me. I understand joy as we pass around the downy-headed, chubby-cheeked baby, each of us prouder than the last. I believe in hope because I see my brother kiss his wife, see the kids climb all over them, hear laughter. I see faith in the way my parents still choose to turn towards each other, thirty-seven years after making their vows. I experience grace, over and over,  from the brother who refrains from beating me up each time I call him the baby, from these hearts that know my ugly, selfish ways better than anyone. This is love. This is life. This is Easter morning, the kingdom ...

Guys. Guys. Guys. I have a new nephew! This is important because BABIES! BABIES. Cute little beige baby with lots of hair and a big head (the midwives said so). Sebastian Gabriel. me: "Ah! I can't wait to squeeze him!" his mom: "You can't squeeze him. You can hold him gently." me: "Just a little squeeze? A baby-appropriate squeeze." I'm very proud of my sister. Although she had no control over this, she was less than four hours from the first contractions to baby's birth. I find this impressive! Particularly for a first child. If I ever have a baby, I am certainly hoping I've got the same fast-birthing genes. Is it genetic? I don't even know. Well done, Momma. Congratulations, Lalo & Sarah. Welcome to the world, Sebas. Photos coming, as soon as I can get myself to Guelph to take some.

I am dogsitting this weekend. An old, slow-moving dog whose thick hair is not so robust as it used to be. I am generally fond of this dog, although my fondness does not preclude a great disdain for the inevitable picking-up-of-his-poo. I am mostly hoping that he doesn't pee on the floor because I stayed out too late with my friends and his bladder is not so great. Also, looking forward to the gorgeous house the dog lives in, and spending a good chunk of my weekend wrestling with some creative projects that have been put on hold for the last few weeks while soup simmers on the gas stove. -- I dislike saying that I'm "busy" or that my life is "crazy" or that time is "flying by" because all of those give the impression that I am somehow not in control of my schedule, or that my days are full of unpleasant things. But I will  say that when I write down today's date, I wonder, How has this happened!? A whole YEAR almost done??  And it makes me...

Any chance you, my delightful Guelph reader, were walking along Edinburgh near Speedvale the other day and said hello to my Grampie? He didn't recongize you (his memory is not as sharp as it once was), but apparently you had read about him online and called him "Grampie," which means you must have visited this site once or twice... We're just curious about who it was. It makes him so happy when people say hello, so please, feel free to do so anytime!!

Some of you have tuned into the All-Christmas-All-the-Time radio stations or set your ipods to Genre: Holiday. I know this. I am not one of you, although I don't mind that many people have started "preparing" for the holidays. If, however, you are like me, you are listening to a little bit of everything...and looking for some new songs. In which case, this is your lucky day. Remember back in March, I hosted a little music exchange ? Well, it was a great success (hopefully everyone who participated agrees!) and I've decided it's time for another round! Here are the guidelines: Let me know you want to participate, and I will hook you up with Dropbox if you aren't already using it. Select ten-ish songs. (8 min, 12 max) Songs and artists don't have to be "new," but you cannot include more than 2 songs that appear on other albums (incentive to submit early!!) Upload your album to the shared folder on Dropbox by December 31, 2012 (your...

February 28, 2013 is a special day for two reasons.  First, my Grampie will turn 94. Yesterday, he marched in the Remembrance Day parade with many other veterans. He said he probably won't march next year. He also implied he probably won't be around for it next year. A distinct possibility, but one I don't like to think about.  You all know that my Grampie is one of my greatest heroes. I would like to sit down and share some thorough and thoughtful stories about yesterday - his Scripture reading at church, walking with him - very out of place in the veterans' parade, and the laughter of lunch as he told stories to some of my favourite friends. But there isn't the time today to shape all those words. I have shaped them, in my mind. I shape them each time I hug him goodbye and wonder if it might be my last visit with him. I shape them whenever I see a soldier, or when I pass a cenotaph. When Grampie does  go home to be with Jesus and his brown-eyed swee...

I am online all day  (except for when cables are cut and we have no phone or internet, as happened last week. Hopefully it never happens again), and I have two international friends with whom I sometimes chat. It is life-giving and often entertaining. Today was both. friend 1: how was the cottage? me: so. so. good. friend 1: hmmm. so good, then? me: yes. i wanted to stay forever. i loved not speaking to anyone. friend 1: haha i think i would go crazy maybe maybe after a few hours it would balance out and i'd learn to love it me: my boss just said the same thing. that she would go crazy. i don't know what it was...but it did kind of make me want to be a hermit. i mean, eventually i would want to talk to people, i think. but i don't know how soon. friend 1: haha you'll never find a nice boy that way... ;) me: yeah. i don't know how to find one anyway. although dream-beth met a nice boy around 5 am this morning. friend 1...

Tuesday night concerts are tough for me. They're cheap (or free!) but they're mid-week, and I want to be at home and in bed before midnight, because that's how I roll. I'm so grown-up. We drank wine and ate guacamole and talked about boys and Europe and art and adorable cats named Sawyer. I felt pleased to introduce my friends to my other friends. Second time this summer I've had a concert quartet of just-introduced ladies. Over at the Horseshoe, ID check was perfunctory. "Do you have your cards?" We fish them out and he doesn't even look at them. "That's the kind of carding I like!" says one friend. The crowd is not too big and we make our way to the edge. A band called Silver Lining  plays. I'm digging the accordion and think, This sounds like an east-coast house party . They later say they're from Newfoundland, and everything about them makes more sense. The band we came to see is Milo Greene . They opened for Th...