* not with ink

Yesterday was Grampie's 93rd birthday. NINETY-THIRD. I called him and we talked about all sorts of things, including (of course), his sweetheart of 63 years, whom he misses terribly. "It was love at first sight. She winked at me with both eyes and I knew she'd fallen for me. Of course, being a sophisticated city boy, it took me a bit longer to fall for her." "How much longer?" "About ten seconds." Oh, I love this man. He is a treasure. If I live to be his age, I hope that I have half the independence, humour, and heart that he shows on a daily basis. (Here he is in June 2008, on his 62nd anniversary.)

I could go for a nap right now. My sleep has gotten totally out-of-wack over the past month, and I am in need of some serious sleep therapy. Thankfully, this feels very different than a year ago, when my inability to sleep well became a source of great frustration...   Several suggestions have been given. None of them seem easy or guranteed enough for me to fully commit: Ear plugs. (lost my pair. should probably just shell out another $8...but it takes me at least 3 tries to get them in properly every single time I wear them.) Sleep mask. (have one. wear it occasionally, not sure if it makes a difference, hate that I have to lift it to check the clock when I wake up unexpectedly.) Bedtime routine. (I think I generally do things in the same order? I can't see myself fully keeping track of this.) Sleep-only in your bed. (but skype! journalling! reading! watching TV! In my next bedroom*, I will have a couch. No really, that's my plan.) Any other sleep advice? Am I...

On Saturday, my nephew pulled out his doctor kit. After giving my wrist a bandaid, he took my temperature. "Look, Aunt Beth," as he held the thermometer inches from my face, "You have a fever." "I DO!? Oh dear! What do I do? How do I get better?" "You have to stay in bed for ten days." "Okay. I will." "Now say Ahhhhhhh." "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh." "Uh oh. You have tongue-throat." "Tongue-throat? What does that mean?" "It means your tummy will be sick for ten thousand days." "Ohhhhhhhhhhh no."  After sharing this hilarity with a friend, another friend tweeted her under-the-weather-woes this morning...and it was soon resolved that we should ask Dr. Jake for his diagnosis. So I sent him this note:  Dear Dr. Jake, I was telling one of my friends that you were an excellent doctor this weekend, and she said that she’s been feeling quite sick today. I thought maybe if I told yo...

It is now the Lenten season. I've enjoyed the way Lent has impacted my heart and my life over the past few years, and am looking forward to it again. Last year, I didn't give anything up in the traditional sense. Instead I added to my daily routine. Every day, I wrote a poem. It was a fantastic exercise in creativity, life-processing, and time management. This year, I feel like Jesus is telling me to give up a couple of things. And despite the title of this post, I am anticipating this will be a good (albeit difficult) 40 days. (It is not even nine o'clock, and I have already "failed" 2 of my 3 my Lenten resolutions. Thank Jesus for grace.)

Hooray for long weekends and afternoon naps and friends who are lovely and weddings and holding adorable babies and finding new coffee shops and evenings spent in front of the TV. Here is an unrelated music video. Try not to smile while watching it.

Until last year, I thought Hanson had disappeared into the California landscape. Then Nadine told me otherwise, and now, fifteen years after MMMBop , here are 5 reasons I think we all should give Hanson another listen. 1. They have mad musical skills. Think about it. Unlike many male-pop-groups, they perform their own songs on their own instruments. And have been honing these skills for the last fifteen years. I, for one, cannot alternate between playing the harmonica, the piano, and singing within any given minute (or ten). Also, you can't beat the smooth harmonics of siblings. Related voices blend in a way others just cannot. That's my opinion, at least. 2. They seem surprisingly well-adjusted. All three are married, and have been for more than five years. They have kids.  (Friend to me: "Wait. You're saying HANSON has their life more together than I DO??") None have criminal records. Isn't it about time we reward the celebrities who aren't go...

(in case you didn't read the title, these stories are not real.) I am on the phone at work. A new girl has joined us. It is her first day, and she is also on the phone. Things are a bit crazy as we re-organize ourselves. My boss decides that we need another phone, so she plugs one into the phone jack near my head. It is for an old school phone, with a long curly red cord that bunches up on itself. I lean my head to one side, as the cord passes directly through my neck-space. This irritates me. I cover the receiver on the phone and state quietly, “It is hard to work with a phone cord going through my neck.” “Well, then. You can quit your f---ing job,” she replies. “Or,” I counter, “you can untangle the f---ing phone cord.” She untangles the phone cord, and I return to my call, a British man giving life advice that I accept as profoundly true because of his winsome accent. It is some sort of school reunion. I am there with the girls from junior high. The popular trio, m...