Late Afternoon

It's late afternoon and I'm sitting at my parent's house.

Turns out I really didn't do much of the work I'd hoped to do this afternoon.  Mostly I lounged, feeling slightly grumpy about the fact that my whole body hurts at the moment.

Also feeling a little sorry for myself.

I really need to write a post here about the upcoming move.  It would make my current mess of emotions so much clearer.

Instead of that, though, I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself.

Berating myself just slightly because I just realized that only a few days into Lent I'm already behind on the Lenten readings I'm doing this year, because I'm so out of the habit of making that daily quiet that last night, after packing all those books, I simply forgot to do the readings.  And it's not like I'm doing much for Lent.  Maybe I'm even feeling sorry for the loss of the self that could fast.  Is it possible that I miss that starvation diet I existed on for so long?

Time to snap out of it.  I need to start cooking.  (I'm making a recipe for mom and dad and company that was the fourth new recipe I've tried so far this year - couscous stuffed peppers.)

So, I'm mentally formulating the beginnings of today's "daily 5" and getting up off the couch, ignoring my achy muscles, and going to make food for people who I know will appreciate it. 

Moving Again

I managed to pack almost all of my books last night.  The only ones left unpacked are the ones I'll be using in the next week or so.

My dad is coming in about 45 minutes to help me move another large load to Grandma's house.

Then I'll be taking my laptop to my parent's house, and working on a bunch of stuff that needs to be accomplished there, while watching olympics today on their big screen television.

And then they're cashing in on part of their Christmas gift, and I'm making dinner there tonight.

So today is about moving again, and all the sundry details of life.

I'll be glad for a day spent crashed on the couch working quietly (post moving of course).  My body is still really sore.  It'll be nice to sit and rest a little.

Daily 5 - Day 191

Today's Daily 5:

1. Jeans at work today
2. Subway for lunch with a coworker
3. Got pretty much all of my books boxed and ready to move tomorrow
4. Clean sheets and pajamas tonight
5. Feeling like I'm actually making headway with this move
6. Watching the Olympics while I packed and worked on my "to do" list for the evening
7. So nice after boxing the books to settle in to a bowl of left-over pasta
8. Had the house to myself tonight
9. 191 days of daily 5 lists
10. It's the weekend!

Feeling Slightly Vindicated

This article in the Calgary Herald this morning has left me feeling somewhat vindicated.  I've been having billing issues with Enmax for 8 months now, have called them on a monthly basis, and there is still no resolution.  Twice now, they've submitted the resolution request, but submitted it with the wrong information, leading nowhere.  There's nothing like good customer service!  Let's just say that the next time I move (I cancelled my utilities for this move, since I won't need them at Grandma's) I won't be setting up my utility account with Enmax.

The Table - Henri Nouwen

Earlier this week I shared a few thoughts from Henri Nouwen on the significance of meals, and gathering around a table together.  Here are a few more:

The Barometer of Our Lives


Although the table is a place for intimacy, we all know how easily it can become a place of distance, hostility, and even hatred. Precisely because the table is meant to be an intimate place, it easily becomes the place we experience the absence of intimacy. The table reveals the tensions among us. When husband and wife don't talk to each other, when a child refuses to eat, when brothers and sisters bicker, when there are tense silences, then the table becomes hell, the place we least want to be.

The table is the barometer of family and community life. Let's do everything possible to make the table the place to celebrate intimacy.

Creating Beautiful Memories


What happens during meals shapes a large part of our memories. As we grow older we forget many things, but we mostly remember the Thanksgiving or Christmas dinners in our families. We remember them with joy and gratitude or with sadness and anger. They remind us of the peace that existed in our homes or the conflicts that never seemed to get resolved. These special moments around the table stand out as vivid reminders of the quality of our lives together.

Today fast-food services and TV dinners have made common meals less and less central. But what will there be to remember when we no longer come together around the table to share a meal? Maybe we will have fewer painful memories, but will we have any joyful ones? Can we make the table a hospitable place, inviting us to kindness, gentleness, joy, and peace and creating beautiful memories?