At the Inkwell: Jessie's story

I've tried my hand at writing a devotional over at Inkwell Inspirations today.

Daughter Jessie is 19 today and all this week - since she flew back to Calgary - I've been thinking back to the time surrounding her miraculous birth.

So if you have a chance, skip over to the Inkwell and read Jessie's story.

And if you know her and have access to Facebook, wish her a happy day, would ya?

Look What I Can Do!

Some of you may have seen these pics at Prairie Chicks Write Romance on Thurs when I blogged about the  Photoshop software program I received for Christmas, but for the benefit of those who didn't, I'm showing them again...because I'm still amazed...

I took this shot of the Sacred Heart church in Montmarte from the Library window this past Dec. I loved the shot until I downloaded it onto my laptop and saw all the power lines. You can even see the reflection of yellow words if you look in the area between the power pole and the arched church window.

And if you think you saw it before, you did - on my Dec 14 post.

But once I got Photoshop for Christmas, I was able to remove all those things I didn't like in the photo.

Christmas card, anyone?

A Tote, Text and Pain

Okay, so this is not the way I envisioned 2010 to start by any stretch of my over-active imagination.

I hurt. I can't bend, cough, laugh or sneeze without pain shooting up. And it's my own fault although I'm taking a page out of hubby's book and blaming someone esle - namely him!

It started last Saturday when we were in the city to visit relatives. Jessie was due to fly back to Calgary on Mon and needed some things so we went shopping first. Because I was suffering from a cold, I decided to stay in the van with the boys. Jessie went across the parking lot looking for shoes and Nelson went into Walmart. After a couple minutes, I remembered that Jessie needed a tote so she could bring all the kitchen stuff she received for Christmas. A box of dishes and a coffee machine isn't something you want in your suitcase when flying these days. And anyway, Crystal was in the same predicament a couple years ago. We put all her extras in a tote and bussed it to her via Greyhound. No problem. Or so I thought.

So I sent this text to Nelson via my new cell phone:

Buy a tote we can use to bus Jessie's dishes, etc to her

Nelson responded with: Will check

Satsified, I settled down to read a book. Several minutes passed and then the following texts were exchanged between hubby and I:
Nelson: Purple ok
Me: Sure
Nelson: 50 bucks
Me: Whaddya mean? 50 bucks? for a tote?
Nelson: Confused now whats a tote
Me: Where are you?
Nelson: Have a 4 piece tote that has wheels
Nelson: front cash waiting for help
Me: On my way!

I scrambled from the van, intent on catching him before he wasted 50 dollars on something we didn't need especially with Christmas bills coming in. The sunny day sported a temp of about -37C/-35F with the windshield. Head down, I rushed across the pedestrian crosswalk in from of Walmart trying not to hold up the waiting cars. Just a few feet from the curb, it happened...I slipped on ice. My momentum pushed me forward and I fell down upon the curb just under my bra near the bottom of my rib cage. Ouch! It hurt! I dragged myself up, grabbed my snowy purse, and kept rushing toward the doors, only pausing for a second or two to brush snow off my knees. I thought for sure my jeans were ripped but no, nothing. I swept in through the Walmart doors to find Nelson waiting, a purple suitcase in his hand. I shook my head, told him to meet me in 'Plastics' and then went off to nurse my pride.

Of course, this whole scenario comes down to mis-communication which is the bane of most marriages. I thought Nelson would remember how we bussed Crystal her things, just like I assumed he'd know you don't send dishes and a coffee machine in a suitcase.

On the other hand, at church on Sunday, Nelson asked a friend what he thought a tote was. The man answered a suitcase. But the man's wife answered a Rubbermaid tote. I guess it's just one of those, 'Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars' things.

So here I am, 3 days after the fact with sore arms and bruised ribs and knees. It's painful to bend, laugh, sneeze and cough. And I still have my cold although it's waning.

On the bright side, Crystal is safely back in Vancouver and Jessie is safely back in Calgary.  Nelson is working today and it's the boys' first day back at school. Which means for the first time in 2 wks, I am alone.

Yippee!

Due to my ribs, I feel best in a sitting position with my back straight...perfect writing position. Now, back to Emma's story...where was I...oh yes, the night before the big rescue...oh, this is so exciting...

So, how are you starting off the New Year? Happy, anxious, depressed?

Handing out Recipes

I'm blogging over at Prairie Chicks Write Romance today. We're sort of taking the holidays off but we're still blogging. Last week was stories and this week we're doing recipes. Leftover recipes, that is.

The other Chicks have posted recipes for a Wassail bowl and Plum Pudding as well as using leftover turkey and cranberries.

My recipes today are for Eggnog Bread and Mashed Potato Candy. Great reasons to clean out your fridge before the new year, if you're so inclined.

You also have just a few more days to enter the Prairie Chicks Anniversary Contest. So what are you waiting for?

Hoping you're showered with blessings in the coming year.

Anita Mae.

At the Inkwell: A Young Shepherd's Story

I'm blogging over at Inkwell Inspirations today. The theme is: Fear Not, For Behold!

Since I already did a blogpost on fear when I reviewed Max Lucado's book Fearless: Imagine Your Life Without Fear, I wanted to do something different this time.

Because I'm still enjoying the Christmas holidays, the Nativity story is still on my mind. I started thinking about the fear the shepherds would have faced as they stood out on the hill above Bethlehem and the heavens opened in a choral song. What would I have done? Quaked in fear? Run? Fainted?

As usual, my imagination took over.  The story is about a cocky young shepherd named Nathaniel and what happened to him on the night Jesus was born.

If you have a few minutes, please join us there.