Twenty started drafts but nothing finished. I’ve been struck with somewhat of a writers block lately. It’s a real thing. I start articles and then I lose interest and leave them unfinished and now some of them are past their ‘best by’ date. I was enthusiastic when I started them but now I go back and reread them and think ‘what drivel’.

I’ve been busyier doing things and I haven’t been reading which is an absolute must. So I’m looking for inspiration elsewhere and not finding it. Also when I sit down to write I find myself dozing off which is a sure sign of boredom or …. sleep deprivation. Speaking of sleep deprivation, I haven’t been getting much sleep lately. The problem is that I stay up too late and by the time I go to bed Mike is in his heavy snoring sleep and I simply cannot get to sleep with all that racket. I’m not blaming Mike. I know snoring is typical for most men, especially as they age and even for some women, myself included, but it’s a problem. I know I could rectify this problem by going to bed before Mike (like I did when I was a working woman) and if I fall asleep before him all the racket in the world won’t wake me up. I hear nothing but the beat of my own heart.

So I know you would all say ‘well just go to bed earlier’. That’s a simple solution. Not so simple really. Because you see, I have two grown children living at home (and I’m totally fine with that) but during the summer when one was unemployed along with myself and the other worked from home a lot, I never had my alone time which I desperately need plus they also stay up quite late so I stayed up even later so I could pretend I was alone. Some nights I’m just waiting for them to get home. Why do kids go out at 10:00 at night anyway? Sorry, I can’t afford therapy so that’s not an option.

Now they are both working and away from home more, leaving me here on my own (heaven) but I’m already in this bad habit of staying up late. I’m sure it’s an easier habit to shake than smoking but here we are. And by we I mean me.

One night last week I was so tired and the snoring was so loud I finally decided I had to go somewhere quieter. When lexie was in Toronto I went into her room one night. The silence was music to my ears but alas, last week she was home so I had no choice but to go get the fur cushions and blankets from the TV room and make myself a little bed on the walkin closet floor. Basically sound proof because of the insulation that a wardrobe the size of Chinooks Zara store provides. But the floor was much harder than I ever remembered sleeping on the floor could be. I guess that’s what you notice when you are 60. I do have boney parts. I guess that was encouraging. I wasn’t going to get any sleep on the floor either. Just when I was debating, at 3:50am, which was the lesser of the two evils, the racket or the painfully hard floor, both legs when into a full leg cramp. I’m talking full on painful debilitating cramping. I had no control. At least when I am in bed I have some leverage to get myself out of bed and standing on the floor where I can push against something solid to alleviate the pain. But since I was lying down on the floor I was at the mercy of my cramping body. I could not bend my legs to get myself off the floor and I just lay there helplessly whimpering with both legs quaking in pain and shot out straight in front of me, gleefully torturing and mocking me and Mike could hear none of this because, as he pointed out in the morning, the closet was excellently sound proof. And so go my nights. Yes, we have no violins.

Where was I? Right, my writers block. I need to start going to bed earlier and getting more sleep and then I will be awake enough to read more (which also brings me great joy and inspiration) and, in turn, I think I will write more. A writers life can be lonely and barren at times. Writing is not for wimps I’m realizing. I need to toughen up and go back and finish all those started articles. Stay tuned.

The next 6 weeks are to be relished and cherished. What brings me joy is decorating in early November so we all have more time to enjoy our Christmas house so I was chomping at the bit to start decorating and transitioning. But Lexie asked me (before going to Toronto for 10 days ) to hold off because she wanted to do a live greenery photo shoot at our place as advertising for the floral shop she works at. Isn’t it funny how when someone tells you you can’t do something how much worse you want to do it? So I held off until yesterday. (I started writing this last Tuesday). True confessions. I did start to put things up while she was away that wouldn’t affect her photo shoot.

I know it  sounds totally bizarre (and pathological) to most people but I have Christmas drapes and dishes and towels and rugs and silk plants, sheets and lights and music. Mugs, candles and books and magazines and a partridge in a pear tree. So I started to switch those things out before I did anything about actual decor.

I went into the floral studio with Lexie on the Sunday she returned and helped her make garlands and floral arrangements and by ‘help’ I mean, holding the end of the garland taut while watching ‘Love Actually’. My favorite part of that movie is where Hugh Grant (who is the new Prime Minister of Britain) starts dancing to Jump (to my love) and doing a fine job I might add, thinking he is alone until he runs into his Executive Assistant. I digress.

Lexie brought all the greenery to the house late Monday afternoon. Meanwhile I was supposed to be making iced gingerbread cookies for the kitchen shoot. But I had a friend drop by with Starbucks and we proceeded to have a good visit until mid afternoon and when I finally got to the gingerbread recipe I realized that the dough had to sit in the fridge for 12 hours. Oops! I quickly proceeded to get the dough made so I could do cookies first thing in morning and when I was done, I thought to myself ‘this texture is more like cake not cookie dough’ so I reread the recipe and noticed upon studying it a little closer that possibly it said 1/4 cup of yogurt not 3/4 cup so now I had to double the recipe and held back on one of the other wet ingredients. Oy! The dough tasted amazing so I put it in the fridge for 12 hours and proceeded to put up a fake garland in the archway to our living room and embellish it with other lifelike greenery to distract from the fakeyness of it and after an hour and a half of installing command hooks and having a couple break away I decided I didn’t really like it there. Mike and I went out for the evening and I was hoping it would be laying on the floor when I returned but alas it was still up. I decided to take it down before bed and removed command hooks as delicately as possible but a few bits of paint decided they didn’t want to be on the archway either. Looks like I will be doing some post Christmas reconstruction.

I awoke the next morning and proceeded to relocate the garland. After 2 hours I finally had it up in the new spot and a couple of command hooks popped off. Luckily I had used so many that two didn’t really affect it much. I had already hung the garland on the floor mirror in the front entry so I thought I would embellish it according to a picture I picked off of Pinterest and was quite pleased with the result. Every time I work with the fake garland (or real, for that matter) a vacuuming session ensues. I might mention at this point that our power nozzle is broken so I have to do this vacuuming bending over or on my knees just using the hose. It’s back breaking fun. So as I was vacuuming for the 4th time in less than 24 hours I heard a crash behind me. My mirror garland had decided it didn’t like the pretty things I hung on it and departed the mirror. I guess I would be vacuuming on my knees one more time. But now I was gritty and determined. That garland was going to hang on that mirror come hell or high water or both. I took a deep breath and spelled out a few obscenities and set to work hanging that garland once again. Command hooks had their chance and failed. So I brought out the big nails and decided I would be doing some hole filling and painting after Christmas. If this didn’t work I was thinking about using gorilla tape. Well that was Tuesday and now it’s Saturday and both garlands are still up.

I really tried not to overdo it this year but you know how it goes. Honestly, I did take a couple of things down in an effort to achieve that ‘less is more’ look. In any case, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Kingdoms come and go, but they don’t last
Before you know the future is the past
In spite of what’s been lost or what’s been gained
We’re living proof that love remains……

We all live
And we all die
But the end is not goodbye
The sun comes up
And the seasons change
And through it all, love remains
An eternal burning flame
Hope lives on, and love remains

These are the poignant lyrics to a song by Hillary Scott and the Scott family. I was introduced to this song earlier this week as I providentially happened to attend a ‘Celebration of Life’ for an elderly couple that passed away within 10 days of each other. The children were just reeling from their mothers surprise passing when their father passed away from stroke complications. I believe they were expecting that their dad didn’t have much time but were not expecting to say goodbye to mom so soon. A double blow leaving them orphans.

It rather reminded me of Noah and Allie in the movie the Notebook. What a blessing, really, to leave this world together. The children decided to celebrate the lives of their parents in one glorious salute to their lives and legacy. As I listened to tribute after tribute from adult children and grandchildren it became evident that this was a tight knit family living on faith and love. And grandma’s apple pies.

This is where I came in. I did not know this family at all until an acquaintance on Instagram called me and queried as to whether I would like to take up the challenge to attempt to duplicate Claire’s pies for the service. I assume she thought of me due to all the pictures of homemade pie (and other baking) I regularly post. The family were only expecting 500 people so we shouldn’t need more than 60 pies and 30 dozen butter tarts. That’s all. Since I was still unemployed I decided to take a whack at it.

One of the daughters, that learned to make the pies by assisting her mom side by side, gave me her mom’s recipe for pastry and her method for making the pies as well as her mom’s butter tart recipe, with very explicit instructions. I was thrilled when I realized how amazing the pastry tasted (no left over crusts with this recipe) AND what a pleasure it was to rollout. I will use this recipe forevermore. Pie is the only dessert that I have a hard time saying no to if it’s homemade.

I proceeded to do a few testers for the family to try in order to get the nod of approval. They wanted this baking to be exactly like their mom’s. She had made pies for everyone who visited the farm and the neighbors and friends in the neighbouring area making Claire’s pies and tarts quite an item and coveted delicacy. The family passed me so I set out.

Farmers market for three 40lb. cases of MacIntosh apples and to Costco and Superstore for several 20lb. bags of sugar and flour. Tenderflake, butter, cinnamon, raisins and eggs. Tin foil plates for pies, baggies for storage, containers for tarts and I was ready to hunker down and bake my brains out. All told, I believe I spent 8 purposeful, inspired and joyful days a home baking, listening to music, praying, planning. My own pie making mom joined me for two days and helped lighten the load. Time well spent with my mom. She even came with me when I went to the venue a day before service to bake the bulk of the pies. Good times, great memories.

Where was I going to freeze all these pies and tarts while I awaited the appointed date? As luck would have it one of my dear and generous friends volunteered her almost empty freezer so as the pies were ready, I hauled them over to her place until the day before the service. I knew I could trust her with them AKA they’d still all be there when I came for them.

I pretended this was my career and this is what I did all day everyday. I could definitely get into this. I thoroughly enjoyed working in my kitchen, except for the night my gas oven went on the fritz. Can you believe it? The most important baking experience of my life and my oven quits. Mike, being the handy Saskatchewan farm boy that he is, had it going the very next day. I guess it’s all part of the baking industry that I was getting a first hand glimpse of, by the way.

All reports from the day of the celebration were positive. Grandsons even said they thought they were eating grandmas pies. Mission accomplished. It was such a honour to be part of it all ‘for such a time as this’.  The family were very grateful for what I had done for them but truly, it was I who was blessed to be able to serve them using my God given skills and talents.  Maybe some day this will be part of my legacy too.

As I have attended many of these services in recent years (due to the fact that that is the stage of life myself and my peers find ourselves in) it occurs to me that if I feel regret at not having had a relationship with the deceased then they have been honoured well. It also occurs to me how valuable every human being is. Each person is somebody’s everything. And what a rich heritage this couple has left behind. One of the most beautiful services I’ve witnessed. Such a honour to have been part of paying homage to such incredible people that obviously made a difference on this earth and left a gaping hole for those that crossed their paths. Love remains!

A repost from October 2015…

You know that feeling when you feel your life has come unglued? And you need to quickly chase after the bits and rally them back under your umbrella and nail them down once and for all so they don’t scatter again? It all started with one sorrowful event and then another sorrowful event and then a stressful chronic environment and then the onset of chronic confusing scary circumstances followed up by a taxing emotional tearing of the heart and before you know it you’ve lost all sense of control and discipline and you find yourself wandering and pondering and going nowhere. Interspersed between all of this have been some beautiful moments and unforgettable memories but it really is time to pull it all back together. To regain focus – regain strength – regain purpose….but how?

The world is overshadowed by chaos and that is exactly how it was predicted to be in these days but in the midst of all of this…let’s call it ‘life’…we must remember who holds the whole thing in HIS hands and remember to whom we belong. When we are running hither and thither in the strong winds and blinding rain trying to latch onto all that we’ve lost or that has blown away and we just snatch one area back and another one slips through our fingers and has blown too high to grab….and we stand their huffing and puffing and berating ourselves for being such a mess. So we just fall into a huddle in a puddle of our own tears and cry our hearts out. Somehow it is temporarily healing. It’s like a draining of poisonous toxins. We have a good cry (in the shower, if that suits) and then we muster up the strength to carry on. But then we hear this still small voice that repeats… You are not alone. When we feel like we can’t take it anymore we take it to the one that can. We offer our mess up with open hands and the one that created us and knows us intimately, takes it and divinely continues to sort it all out and if we watch carefully – with open eyes, ears and hearts – we will see how HE crafts our healing into something even more beautiful than what got away. If that is possible…sometimes our perception of what we lost was pretty amazing, very precious, highly memorable and pricelessly valuable….but HE is turning it all into something even more. He will take everything and use it for our good. He always has our best interests in mind. But it takes time to craft something this perfect so we must patiently wait and remember that HE is working on our behalf – at all times – He works when we don’t. He is faithful to complete what HE started. And we are off the hook…we don’t have to fix all of this…He will do it. He will clean up our mess and HE will cover us with His feathers until these calamities have passed. And in the meantime….we are encouraged to rest and receive peace that passes all understanding. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens and I think it’s time to let up and let go. Loosen my grasp on that need for control and perfection and “right now” answers and cease trying to make it all happen on my own.

Blast that self-sufficient character trait….a time to loosen my grasp on what I think should be happening and just give the Lord a chance to show off. I’ve always had very high expectations of everyone and everything and mostly of myself…I’m hard to impress but I am pretty sure that if I let go – God will knock my socks off. He’s done it before. So I think I’ll just sit back and watch the show. Pass the popcorn please.