tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33652879157217409622024-03-04T22:02:28.288-08:00Sym’s City 2.0the adventure continues... finally!Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-68133338353508474782013-03-03T09:35:00.001-08:002013-03-03T09:35:21.358-08:00Once a year ... REALLY?!?!I get it. Posting once a year does not a blogger make! So here it is. The end. Stop looking. As much as writing is a good exercise for me, and as much as I wish I could be faithful at it. I can't. Not as well as be the wife, parent, daughter, friend, educational assistant, community member, etc., etc. that I want to be. But I love that I have done it, love that many of you have indicated you have enjoyed it. You have all been patient and kind and oh so lovely. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'll try to say more on Facebook about the adventures of the Symanskis, so "friend" me there for sporatic (and I do mean sporatic) updates. Ta ta for now ;)<br />
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<i>Jesus,</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Thanks for "following" me on this blog ;) And thank you for the privilege of following you! I love you.</i><br />
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'til next time,<br />
<br />
Dianna<br />
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<br />Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-17088284298016863992012-03-04T20:41:00.000-08:002012-03-04T20:44:16.586-08:00Spring CleaningFor a change Lent did not sneak up on me. And probably because embracing a time of "wilderness" is right up my alley right now. All alone. In the wilderness. <br />
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I read recently that Lent offers us a time to refrain from something, or add something into our lives that causes our routine to change, to cause it to become a little off balanced. And in experiencing that discomfort, that inconvenience, we are reminded that all that we fill our lives with, does not ultimately fulfill us. Lent gives us that yearly opportunity to refocus our hearts on the One whose life can fulfill us. Spiritual spring cleaning, so to speak. Out with the soul clutter that inevitably starts to crowd our lives and in with a renewed sense of clarity about who we are and how we will live our lives.<br />
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But here's the rub. I'm already off balanced. Really. I am one of those blessed people who frequently loses the plot and stumbles through life in a haphazard, topsy turvy kind of way. Even how I talk with God is bumbling. A long time ago I finally stopped trying to make my prayers sound intelligent and "spiritual" and asked God to just make sense of the blatherings, wanderings and wonderings I do along the way. Thankfully, He's okay with that.<br />
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Back to Lent.<br />
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So what does an already off balanced person do to become a little more off balanced to allow more focus on God? Wandering into the wilderness sounds good to me. Quiet. No meals to cook. No house to clean. No laundry to fold. No bills to pay. <br />
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But Ken says I can't go. So this is what I will do instead. <br />
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<ul>
<li>I'll be careful with my time. I will choose to say, "sorry, I've got a commitment" when I am asked to do A, B, C. I'll forgo the good feelings I get from "doing" for others or by living up to what I think is expected of me. And instead maybe my commitment will be to lighting a candle to reflect and jot down my thoughts and allow my soul to be quieted so I can hear what God might be whispering in my ear.</li>
<li>I'll take time to reflect on how those who are struggling financially in H.J. are helped. What are the practical ways I can be involved? Taking time to focus on the poor is like hitting a spiritual reset button for me. From my understanding of the Bible, they are God's favourites and right away I know I'm on course if I'm making them a priority.</li>
<li>I'll try to walk more than drive around town. Not only is it more kind to our planet but it causes my own internal rhythm to change. I slow down internally when I slow down my physical pace.</li>
</ul>
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Nothing big or flashy, just simple things to change it up and hopefully cause me to clean out the spiritual cobwebs. </div>
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How about you? How do you hit the reset button in your soul? </div>
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<i>Jesus,</i></div>
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<i>You know I'm a terrible pack rat, holding onto things that only clutter my peace. I look forward to doing some soul cleaning with you. I love you.</i></div>
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'til next time,</div>
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Dianna</div>
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<br /></div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-26449531353405045402012-03-02T15:05:00.002-08:002012-03-02T18:36:55.330-08:00Random ThankfulnessIt's time. Time to write. To make good on a promise to a friend. She made me promise to write in here and that was MONTHS ago. And so I must write because she is NOT someone you want to break a promise to...<br />
<br />
And now is a good time. I'm thoughtful today. Not that that is rare. But it is rare to be in front of the computer and thoughtful at the same time.<br />
<br />
When we came to Haines Junction I often spoke about my life in Winnipeg as having been BIG, FAT and FULL. I wasn't leaving a life I didn't love. On the contrary it was fabulous, with amazing people. And now here we are over two years in H.J., and this is what I'm thoughtful about and thankful for ...<br />
<ul>
<li>last year at this time I was 75 lbs heavier. I was tired, sore and out of hope. Today I have a cold so I'm miserable but I still walked to work because I wanted to and I have energy, no pain and hope. I'm beyond grateful.</li>
<li>my nephew Brody, who has been living with us since the fall, just came home from the school bison hunt. It sounds like it was an amazing time to enjoy the land and the folks he went with. I'm grateful for this 16 year old boy who after they shot the bison, hugged it to thank it for giving it's life for us.</li>
<li>my life is full of music. My boys, Will and Jay, play the ukulele together in ways that amaze and delight me. I sit in awe as they play. </li>
<li>I can play C, Am, F, and G7 on the uke now. That means I can play, "Oh, please, stay by me, Dian(n)a"! I amaze no one, but I'm tickled pink by it.</li>
<li>we just sold our house in Winnipeg and I cried. In school. In front of a student. Just a little. But that was the house I raised my babies in. Who wouldn't cry?!?</li>
<li>Brenna is squishy and huggy and warm and sweet. Occasionally the other side of her being a teen raises it's ugly head but overall she's yummy. She babysits now so she has a fan club of preschoolers who ADORE her. </li>
<li>Ken has hearing aids now. With a mute button. Ha! Just let him try to mute me!!! </li>
<li>I love being a substitute teacher. I love the staff, I love the students, I love the work. I feel like the luckiest person.</li>
<li>God continues to capture me. He continues to be my soft place to land, my strong tower and my dearest friend. </li>
</ul>
Random thoughts from a snot filled brain. But you get the point I think. I mock complain about my crazy life at times but really I have a BIG, FAT and FULL life. Here and now in H.J. I am overwhelmed and downright thankful.<br />
<br />
<i>Jesus,</i><br />
<br />
<i>As I wander through the wilds of life as a mom, wife, educator and woman, I'm so glad you are with me. Really with me. I love you.</i><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
Dianna<br />
<br />
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<br />Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-14035794919620226022011-04-07T22:09:00.000-07:002011-04-07T22:47:33.851-07:00Negligent Ninny<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">That's me. Negligent Ninny. Not at everything but certainly at some things! The blog being one...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I'll keep it brief, but all is well here in the Junction. Life continues to tick along at a pace that, although less "city-fied", is still brisk for my short, stubby physical legs as well as my "soul" legs. You know what I mean, don't you? The fitness your soul has that can carry you just so far and just so fast without it starting to gasp for air, for space, for "soul rest"? </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Well, we have been on a bit of a marathon around here, and either I'm getting better at handling it, or you caught me on a good day...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Spring Break has come and gone - two weeks! I LOVED IT! Not the part about the kids being home. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids - but two weeks of sibling crap makes me feel like bungee jumping without a rope. But what I do LOVE is the break from routine! Oh, the glory of all of us waking when we're ready and having nothing to get to by a certain time. Mmm Mmm Mmmm. Of course, there was the little detail about the fact that I was on my own with the kids the entire time...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
A couple weeks before the break we found out that Mom Symanski was scheduled for a major surgery. And with Mom being 81 years old, surgery of any kind poses all kinds of risks. It wasn't a hard decision to make - Ken needed to be there. Thankfully it was during spring break and he could go for more than a few days to help out and spend time with her and the rest of the family (he was gone three weeks). She was doing well and to make a very long, convoluted story, short, they cancelled the surgery altogether after they looked at more of the results of further testing they did. She has an aoertic anuerism in her abdomen that is just too risky to operate on. Overall the best decision, although difficult. And overall the BEST decision to have Ken go there to be with everyone. Not only was it valuable time spent with his mom, I know he was a huge source of encouragement and laughs for his siblings.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRnR38fl5Rd31eYHYX9gYgldQOBxZtl9s12-Wo9oIxSNTkk56iwfNmhfz1Uh6LoPurEQ26kdyx6sCKTjpT-qfgIedH7dM5t8p8KYTafPvSeGJ9FhKuwbCX-tet1UPT9nVoGWU88jAIZpQ/s1600/Winter+11+044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRnR38fl5Rd31eYHYX9gYgldQOBxZtl9s12-Wo9oIxSNTkk56iwfNmhfz1Uh6LoPurEQ26kdyx6sCKTjpT-qfgIedH7dM5t8p8KYTafPvSeGJ9FhKuwbCX-tet1UPT9nVoGWU88jAIZpQ/s200/Winter+11+044.jpg" width="150" /></a>And we survived Daddy being gone (and no, I did not do mind-altering drugs). We laid low for a bit, went to Whitehorse for a bit, and then took a fantastic (albeit brief) trip to Skagway, Alaska where we hopped on the Alaska State Ferry to Haines, Alaska. Breathtaking. We spent the night there and then went beachcombing the next day. Haines is a lovely place and only 2 1/2 hours from the Ju<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDiQIdNojYKyvXd_3Al8Z5pdXpmrm9IJ2jLwZA1gDYEUS4x9Kmcr-AIxgQP1dvFhztXEDR7Z0Y4zrvNIdCvRgV2u1d8vYC5hKiQou0fIsraaS2pfDEPWkfRr8bw4nZ0jR_Su1REaZ-orY/s1600/Winter+11+092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; height: 162px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; width: 215px;"><img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDiQIdNojYKyvXd_3Al8Z5pdXpmrm9IJ2jLwZA1gDYEUS4x9Kmcr-AIxgQP1dvFhztXEDR7Z0Y4zrvNIdCvRgV2u1d8vYC5hKiQou0fIsraaS2pfDEPWkfRr8bw4nZ0jR_Su1REaZ-orY/s200/Winter+11+092.jpg" width="200" /></a>nction. It's on the coast and when your heart laments that maybe spring will never come, it is just the medicine. No jackets needed, sunny blue skies and very little snow. And scenery that makes your heart stop. Stunning really. But, just in case I've lulled you into thinking it was picture perfect - remember I was travelling with three kids infected with that serious and troubling illness, "Sibling Intolerance Syndrome" (S.I.S. for short) and three dogs. One of which gets carsick. Need I say more...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwkQgVSm8UelX22iJUhcHvemUimOSxywtFEOT12uV8C1W5dxYxu9f_0kyG4VSw9uzzki4335ua064kV5SuFkegz3n3YuW_8EQpsLljYFk-_9GsZt0agG-ooo5SPqWb2XiVQ6GQbr1MJU/s1600/Winter+11+123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMwkQgVSm8UelX22iJUhcHvemUimOSxywtFEOT12uV8C1W5dxYxu9f_0kyG4VSw9uzzki4335ua064kV5SuFkegz3n3YuW_8EQpsLljYFk-_9GsZt0agG-ooo5SPqWb2XiVQ6GQbr1MJU/s200/Winter+11+123.jpg" width="200" /></a>When we left Haines we met up with friends in "the Summit" which is way up in the mountains on the way home and is a snow machiners/tobagganners paradise. We had a hoot! The kids sledded down these massive hills and then our friend Dave would go down and pick them up with the skidoo (they are the little specks at the bottom of the hill in the pic on the left) They loved it! They dug and played in the snow for hours! <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkUDcJtRiXni0BWGnbQVuh_sBmmd6zWXSQHzuj9ATXWcGVE2f4znp90NgNkppVzob3ANp7vprbaheBzEJtlVD6umrbfvMZ7TWnMWyqVz_uFq5BU8CoIwsBmJ8lFjL_3YJkFbxOLGmZoPE/s1600/Winter+11+185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkUDcJtRiXni0BWGnbQVuh_sBmmd6zWXSQHzuj9ATXWcGVE2f4znp90NgNkppVzob3ANp7vprbaheBzEJtlVD6umrbfvMZ7TWnMWyqVz_uFq5BU8CoIwsBmJ8lFjL_3YJkFbxOLGmZoPE/s200/Winter+11+185.jpg" width="200" /></a>And then as the sun was setting we made our way home. A good time was had by all.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The "marathon" includes more but I said I would keep this brief. For my sake. I need to go get some of that "soul rest" that I need in order to keep from becoming the hideous, grouchy bear that takes over my being when I start to tire out. It's not a pretty sight. It's the kind of thing epic horror flicks are made of. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>Jesus,</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>You sustain me, intrigue me, calm me. I love you.</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">'til next time,</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Dianna</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-35129480452112478722011-02-21T23:03:00.000-08:002011-02-21T23:07:34.532-08:00A Simple TaskOkay, I have the dearest friend. I mean the DEAREST. I have never known anyone to not absolutely LOVE this lady. Just spending time with her makes your heart happy. Her eyes disappear when she smiles but NOTHING can hide the gleam in them. I remember her saying to me once in our teens that when she got old she wanted to be the kind of old lady that winked at people. And I bet she will. She'll be this irresistable old dear in the nursing home that all the nurses dote on and adore while they push me in the corner for time out because I'm such an old crank!<br />
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Now when this person asks me to post a pic of our new pup everything in me wants to do it. You just don't have the heart to say no. It's like kicking, well, a puppy! And so here is my dilemma.<br />
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This is what goes into a "simple" task like downloading a picture.<br />
<br />
"Where the hell is that camera anyways...", <br />
"Ken, where's the camera?"<br />
"Okay, then who had it last? Fine, I'll just have to find it..."<br />
<br />
Rummage, rummage, cuss, rummage<br />
(find camera)<br />
<br />
"Okay, now where the hell is that cord?"<br />
<br />
Rummage, rummage, cuss, rummage<br />
(find cord)<br />
<br />
Turn on camera.... <br />
<br />
"oh crap, that's right Brenna dropped it and now the lens is all screwed up. Rats. That's okay, maybe I can download pics anyway."<br />
<br />
Camera turns off...<br />
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"Crap. Batteries are dead. &*%$ ! Where the hell are those batteries?" <br />
<br />
Rummage, rummage, cuss, rummage<br />
(find batteries)<br />
<br />
Hook up camera - it says "establishing connection" <br />
Hope begins to rise - it says "unable to connect to computer"<br />
Hope is dashed<br />
<br />
Wipe tears, try new pluggy innie place (techno gargon - sorry)<br />
<br />
Beep! -"Welcome to Scanner and Camera" pops up on the screen. There is a God!<br />
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Sort through 534 pictures because I don't know how to delete pictures once and for all<br />
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Find a few, "where the hell are the rest of them? These will have to do. Grrr." Although he is pretty cute.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_LznoYhspHKX1pawVKM0bsKliFcuSTecosQzN7Dgr0f159VC2VxhpR9v9hGrSB0rZ5LN_Q0Hcz54N6adVJLzVYL-iG51pj8JTf5-Kmt8CIfUO5KQY7VkenXoGeERnLhKv7Ywht_tJoo/s1600/Winter+11+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_LznoYhspHKX1pawVKM0bsKliFcuSTecosQzN7Dgr0f159VC2VxhpR9v9hGrSB0rZ5LN_Q0Hcz54N6adVJLzVYL-iG51pj8JTf5-Kmt8CIfUO5KQY7VkenXoGeERnLhKv7Ywht_tJoo/s320/Winter+11+010.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mindy and her new little one</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJz_RJhr9PJzaBIYavnxTasFFD6EeosfBMruoTFc9-Pa2dhukfijjncbOA7Omi9WScjX_aUzDBhfIX4zkbHJBLEGQFMj8Wt-FwsIsTFZxalTTltXohvZ1bxdjYxhAK3zB_No7zs77ywAY/s1600/Winter+11+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJz_RJhr9PJzaBIYavnxTasFFD6EeosfBMruoTFc9-Pa2dhukfijjncbOA7Omi9WScjX_aUzDBhfIX4zkbHJBLEGQFMj8Wt-FwsIsTFZxalTTltXohvZ1bxdjYxhAK3zB_No7zs77ywAY/s320/Winter+11+008.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="center">Charlie Chub Chubs - our little HavaShitz</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And now, only now, can I go to bed because I have done what any decent person could do when they are asked to do something by THE NICEST PERSON IN THE WORLD. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">And yes, I know, it wasn't that hard. It's just that the above scenerio seems to happen only about a gazillion times a day as I try to keep track of myself (no easy task) and four other people and all their stuff (permission forms, bills, emails, volunteer requests, paycheques). No word of a lie, I have lost three paycheques in the last three months. I always end up finding them but not before having a break down of some sort. And I know I'm whining but I swear sometimes there's a little gnome that follows me around moving stuff just to watch me look for it and admire the fireworks as my brain cells explode in frustration. I would banish thee little gnome... if I could find you.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">So there it is. Pictures for my dear friend and a mini rant on the side. Good night.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><em>Jesus,</em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><em><br />
</em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><em>I suck at keeping track of stuff and things. Seriously. I could use a little divine help here. (At least banish the gnome). I love you.</em></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">'til next time,</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dianna</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-49815331682784115592011-02-21T21:58:00.000-08:002011-02-21T21:59:48.256-08:00on and on and on and...February is a crazy month around here. Here’s the rundown!<br />
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First, the puppy has arrived! My goodness it was so exciting! I arrived home from work on Thursday, Feb. 10 to our Mindy who was obviously in labour. The only problem was that Brenna and Will were in Whitehorse at a Hockey Day in Canada event and we wanted so badly for them to be there for the birth! Ken and I flew into action and set up the video camera and the waiting began…<br />
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But Mindy was a dear and seemed to know how important it was for our whole family to be present when she gave birth so she waited until Brenna and Will were home and within 10 minutes the pup had arrived! Our buddy Travis from across the street was there as well (our “adopted” son) and softie that he is, cried at the miracle of seeing this little life emerge. It was pure Travie and Jay followed with some tears of his own. Everyone was quite enthralled with the whole process although Will kept darting away and then back. I think it was all a bit much and easier for him to take in small doses.<br />
<br />
Only one pup arrived and he’s a little boy we’ve dubbed “Charlie” after his charcoal colouring. His nickname is Charlie Chub Chubs because he’s a voracious eater and is growing exponentially fast! Mindy is a wonderful little mother and is her happy little self in spite of her new responsibilities. Wags, the new dad, has been great. Very concerned about Mindy throughout the whole labour and delivery, even sneaking in to lick her whole face afterwards. He’s fairly disinterested in the pup at this point in spite of Ken coaching him to NOT be a “dead beat dad”. We’ll see how that goes when the pup starts playing with him! For now everything is fairly easy but once Charlie opens his eyes and starts to explore his world more our home will shift into puppy training gear and all that entails…<br />
<br />
On the heels of all this we had the pleasure of having James Hill here in the Junction. Now this fellow is absolutely amazing and if you don’t know who this is, you just have to get to know what this guy’s about. For our family it was like having a rock star walk into our living room! He is a Ukulele GURU! Simply mesmerizing and inspiring to watch. Ukuele has become a big thing for the Symanskis and deserves a whole post to describe the “Birth of Uke” into our family. Suffice to say we are captured by it and to have someone of James’ caliber come and do workshops and a concert was a gift and a thrill. Will was even a part of the concert, chording for James while James played a song. Will floated off the stage! Please, if you ever get a chance to see James Hill in concert RUN, don’t WALK and get yourself there. You won’t regret it and you’ll never look at a ukulele the same way… <br />
<br />
And then to keep things at a fevered pace there was the Atom’s Hockey Tournament (Will’s) this past weekend here. Meanwhile Jay was in the NorthwesTel Soccer Championships in Whitehorse. So after making a huge pot of spaghetti sauce for the Atoms banquet and a few dozen cookies for the concession, Jay, Brenna and I were off to Whitehorse for soccer while Ken stayed to be with Will. Will played HARD in his tournament (4 or 5 games) and Ken worked at the concession, Jay played 4 games on Saturday and 2 on Sunday and came away with a Bronze medal. I played chauffeur and crazy soccer mom, cheering on our kids til my throat was hoarse! <br />
<br />
Also this weekend, Jay and I had the pleasure of helping out some friends from the Junction who ended up having their baby in Whitehorse on Saturday. Jay and I watched their two-year-old girl while they went in for a c-section and then had the pleasure of seeing the new addition to their family! It was so exciting and such a treat that we were able to help out. And to top it all off their new little girl was born on the big sister’s birthday! How neat.<br />
<br />
Now we’re into another week of school and gearing up for this coming weekend. Jay plays at the Novice Hockey Championship in Teslin so we’ll all be going there. It’s 4 hours away (approx.) and should be lots of fun. The weekend after that Brenna and I are heading up to Fairbanks, Alaska to take part in a festival there. Brenna is part of the First Nations Dance Group here called Dakwakada Dancers and they will be performing and I’m going to go along as a chaperone. I’ve never been to Fairbanks so I’m looking forward to discovering a new city. <br />
<br />
Needless to say that in addition to doing more subbing than usual, attending all these great events and taking care of our new puppy, blogging has fallen by the wayside. I’ll try to get something thoughtful down soon. I have quite a bit rumbling around in me especially regarding church and what that looks like here in the Junction for us. I’d love to mooch some wisdom from you about your thoughts so keep posted for my wonderings!<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>In the midst of it all, you are with us and I’m glad. I’m still looking to you about this whole “church” thing. Let me know what you think. I love you!</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
‘til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-5496984630757360832011-02-09T21:44:00.000-08:002011-02-09T22:02:40.120-08:00Teachers...I work as a sub in the local school here in the Junction. We have one K-12 school, all the students harmoniously mixed together in a great facility. I enjoy the fact that I'm not tied down to a full time job. I can better manage a healthy balance between family and work but I get lots of time in the school getting to know and having fun with the students and enjoying the camaraderie of being a part of a staff with some really fantastic educators.<br />
<br />
And last week I was reminded of a teacher I worked with occasionally in Winnipeg. She was very creative, had wonderful routines and affectionately called her grade one/two kids her "little ducks". Every Friday they shared a pancake meal together and practiced their manners and talked about their week together. And as she would wind up her Friday with her kids they would join hands and sing the chorus to Bob Marley's song<br />
"Everything's Gonna Be Alright". She knew that some of those kids were going home and things wouldn't always be alright for them over the weekend. But at least in her classroom she could give them stability and structure and lots of care. She was quite inspiring.<br />
<br />
And then she had one or two of those students who valiantly struggled through even the simplest tasks required of them. They had a hard time just getting in the door and putting their stuff in their cubbies never mind the 3 R's! These dear ones were often on modified programs and needed lots of coaching and support. They had a special place in their teachers heart. To her they were her "wobbly ducks". <br />
<br />
"Wobbly ducks". Something goes to mush in me when I think of it. It's just so darn cute on one hand but on another I have to confess it strikes a deeper chord in me. I think it's because ultimately I'm a wobbly duck. <br />
<br />
I'm wobbly in all kinds of ways. But I don't want to focus on that. What really captures my attention as I think about my "wobbliness" is how grateful I am for the kindnesses I've received from the "teachers" in my life. People who, along the way, have shared a meal with me, teaching me valuable life lessons. People who have held my hand and have sang "Everything's Gonna Be Alright" to me in countless ways through their hugs, their listening ears, their words of encouragement, their laughter, their prayer. People who, knowing that at times everything was NOT alright, sang it to me anyway because they knew one day it would be. And like the teacher I described, they are really quite inspiring. <br />
<br />
And maybe, just maybe, as I wobble along I can inspire too.<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<em><br />
</em><br />
<em>I'm glad you have a special place in your heart for us "wobbly ducks". In you I feel the safety to wobble through. I love you.</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-22760545628595619352011-02-07T22:20:00.000-08:002011-02-07T22:22:26.978-08:00A Twelve Year OldMy daughter is now twelve. I remember twelve. It was tumultuous. <em><strong>I</strong></em> was tumultuous. Hormones flip flopping everywhere. And so it seems it may be so for my dear girl. Oh dear, better fasten our seat belts!<br />
<br />
And so Ken and I chat. Chat about what is coming down the road for us. Our little girl beginning the journey to womanhood. He grimaces to hear me talk about his "little Boo" becoming a woman. Reluctantly nods when I say we need to bless this process in her and not let on that we are doing so under some duress. I look at him and say,<br />
<br />
"We are not mature enough to deal with what's about to happen. So we'll just have to fake it." <br />
<br />
He doesn't miss a beat,<br />
<br />
"As long as we have a plan."<br />
<br />
And so we will continue to pretend to know what to do, lean heavily on each other and on other parents that have gone before us and have lived to tell the tale. And we will trust this little one blossoming before us into the Father's hands. At least He knows what He's doing.<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<br />
<em>She's really great. But I guess you know that. I love you.</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-81787108249476523402011-01-30T12:30:00.000-08:002011-01-30T12:30:23.297-08:00Breathe, Exhale, Breathehoar frost hugs brittle branches<br />
mountains stand at awesome attention<br />
sky blue yawns and stretches its beauty <br />
blanketing the world with hope,<br />
promise, gladness<br />
<br />
nature smiles a broad grin<br />
abandoning her hiding places<br />
sunshine highlighting<br />
her gentle splendor<br />
<br />
a hush falls<br />
hearts are quieted<br />
peace reigns<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<br />
<em>Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm. You are delicious. I love you.</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-70733671785575679422011-01-20T12:07:00.000-08:002011-01-20T21:12:03.013-08:00"The Talk"So if you haven't read yesterday's post you may want to so that you have the background for this post. If you don't (fine, be that way) - suffice it to say our dogs, Wags and Mindy, are now awaiting the arrival of pups in February. And our kids, who of course are thrilled, saw the whole mating process which as you can imagine raised some questions!<br />
<br />
Now, I am not terribly prudish or shy. Talking about our bodies with my kids (11, 9 and 7 years old) hasn't freaked me out. We've taught them the anatomically correct names of their body parts - "head and shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes, knees and toes, head and shoulders, knees and toes, eyes, ears, penis and vagina". We've talked about the need for privacy and personal safety around our sexual body parts and we've tried to instill in our kids that our bodies, no matter who we are, are beautiful and to be celebrated.<br />
<br />
Then there is that moment that I've been keeping my eyes open for when they need more information. They need "the talk". I really truly want to beat their classmates to the punch line. Brenna and I have had "the talk" when she was in grade four in a multi-age classroom of grades 4,5 & 6 and it became clear that she might hear more in that context then in a regular grade four classroom. Now that just left Will and Jay to have "the talk" with. And our dogs getting caught in the act provided just that opportunity! When Will asked me what was going on with Wags and Mindy I asked, "Do you really want to know?" His response was typical Will, "Sure, I'm in the mood for a story!" <br />
<br />
And then it was time to explain the nitty gritty of sex and it was Jay who helped us put it into words. But not the 7 year old Jay. The 3 year old Jay. Just a week before the dogs had their little trist(s) we were reminising about some of the funny things our kids have said as wee ones. And this story is one our favorites...<br />
<br />
All three of my children have been willing to go toe to toe with me from the time they realized we both had toes. This particular day with my 3 year old Jay was no different as he was determined to convince me that Brenna had a penis. It started out funny and I remember assuring him that "no sweetie, Brenna is a girl. She has a vagina."<br />
<br />
"Nooo. She has a penis." End of story.<br />
<br />
"Jay, she has a vagina. She's different then you and Will. She's a girl."<br />
<br />
"Noooo! She has a penis!" now he's ticked off and ready to rumble.<br />
<br />
"Jay! I am her mother. I did her diapers. She has a VAGINA." It's not funny anymore and I'm sucked in and legitimately arguing with a three year as if my sanity depends on it.<br />
<br />
"MOOOOM! She DOES have a PENIS! It's just an INNIE!" And I am silenced. I am put in my place. It makes all the sense in the world. There are innie belly buttons. Why not innie penises? Can you speak?!?<br />
<br />
And so when it came time to tell our boys what on earth was going on with Mindy and Wags it was easy. We had the lingo!<br />
<br />
"Wags is trying to get Mindy pregnant" we explain.<br />
<br />
"But how?" <br />
<br />
"Well... he puts his 'outie' in her 'innie'."<br />
<br />
Will is immediately grossed out because he's nine and he makes the intellectual leap to what that means about human puppies and...ewwww....how he came to be. <br />
<br />
Dear Jay just looks at us and says "OOOO-K". And that's it. No leaping in that kid's mind. It's still just what the dogs do. And that's okay with me. There's plenty of time to talk about it another time.<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<br />
<em>Oh, how you must laugh too! I love you. </em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-88426189822236090242011-01-19T14:20:00.000-08:002011-01-20T10:41:24.691-08:00Tying One OnWe have two dogs. Our shitzu/papillion, Wags, who will be 6 this summer and Mindy, our havanese, who will be 2 this spring. Not having a dog or dogs was never an option for us because my mom is, well, she is THE CRAZY DOG LADY. I often kid that in our home growing up, the condiments on our table always included dog hair. If there wasn't dog hair in our food, it was like it was missing salt and pepper. <br />
<br />
Long ago my mom decided that dogs would replace us of the human variety to fill her need to nurture as we all left home. I don't think it's a coincidence that she always has three dogs in her home at any given time as growing up in our home she attempted valiantly to raise two sets of three kids (as one set moved out, another set moved in - long story). As she dealt with the inevitable "empty nest syndrome" as we all finally moved out, the dogs filled the void with their crazy antics, their undying adoration of her and their need to be cared for.<br />
<br />
And so it goes that in our family, if you don't have a dog she feels compelled to bestow one upon you. I don't even think my last kid was hatched before she laid claim to the right to be the one to provide HER grandchildren with a puppy. I held her off as long as I could with my convincing act of being wildly overwhelmed with the diapering/breastfeeding/toilettraining/tryingtogetthe<br />
darnthingstosleep routine. But 6 years ago, two days before our bi-yearly visit from Grandma, the phone rang and she accomplished one of her purposes for living. She had just seen the CUTEST litter of small breed puppies with a little fellow that would fit perfectly into our home, our yard and our hearts and as our youngest was now over two, IT WAS TIME. I hastily called Ken at work expecting him to buoy up my resolve to say no,no,no! but we were both sucked into her enthusiasm and hopelessly committed to whatever little fluffball she managed to smuggle onto the flight to Winnipeg from Whitehorse.<br />
<br />
And when Grandma put this little one into our then 6 year old Brenna's arms and he wagged his tail as if his life depended on it, he was aptly christened Wags by her and officially made a new member of the Symanski clan. And truly I get why my mom is THE CRAZY DOG LADY. Wags has been a great addition to the family and has given us much to laugh about. And when it was time to move to the Yukon it's as if he knew he was back where he was born. It helps that when we go to visit at Grandma's and Grandpa's he gets to see his cousins, Koda (a beautiful and extremely large German Shepherd), Maggie (a fourteen year old Border Collie who is the matriarch of the clan) and Foxy (a rescue dog, who came to live with my parents when they fostered her and her gazillion pups from the animal shelter. The pups all got successfully adopted out and Foxy found her forever home with Mom and Dad). Wags loves this crew so much that upon entering the city limits seeing the signs welcoming us to Whitehorse (he reads "Grandma and Grandpa's House"), he begins to launch himself through the windshield. He seems convinced that the 100 km/hr that we are driving is too slow and surely he can get there faster if only he was given the chance. <br />
<br />
But I should have known we were not complete as a dog loving family. I thought we were done. But Grandma knows best and so now we have little Mindy. I heard about her months and months before meeting her. Mom knew about this dear little havanese pup that needed a home and every so often tried to convince me that she would be PERFECT for our family now that we had a larger yard and "look how much Wags loves having other dogs around..." I should've known I was done for. This spring, through a series of crazy events, Mindy became a Symanski. And I have to say, she is a piece of work. Havanese are a sweet breed known for getting very attached to one person. Well, I am her person. She adores me. And now that I've entered that lovely stage were my darling, little children can eloquently, passionately, convincingly form the words, "I HATE YOU" and "YOU ARE THE WORST MOTHER IN THE WHOLE WORLD!", Mindy is my solace. I am perfect in her sight. When I enter the room I swear you hear the Hallelujah Chorus singing in her little heart. I, Dianna Symanski, can do no wrong.<br />
<br />
Now, why you ask, is this long rambling post called "Tying One On"? Well because they did. Wags and Mindy. They did the wild thing, made the beast with two backs, they tied one on! In the dog world that doesn't mean they got drunk. And although I had heard the term "tying" in relation to dogs mating from my wise, German Shepherd breeding sister, I had no idea what it looked like.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong I didn't think it was moonlight and roses and wooing or even "Paradise By The Dashboard Light". Having never actually seen dogs "do the deed", how was I to know that when they "tie" they actually get stuck together! Colour me surprised when I walked in on these two little lovebirds and found them looking up at me (a little embarrassed I think!) completely unable to disengage from their little rendezvous. Both Ken and I flew into action while our children looked on with amazement and bewilderment. I did what anyone would do. I panicked and called my sister and my brother-in-law and they talked me off the ledge explaining that this was normal and that they would go their separate ways when they, well, could. Ken, however had a very different response and immediately dimmed the lights and put on Marvin Gaye. That's my guy!<br />
<br />
So now we are faced with the reality that in February we will have puppies in our home. February 14 is Mindy's due date! Of course we're having all kinds of discussions with the kids about this (tomorrow's post) and we get a real kick out of the fact that our puppies will be HavaShitz. Our kids giggle their butts off because we rarely swear around them (Ken - never, me - no comment) but we're just having too much fun asking people if they want a HavaShitz!<br />
<br />
By the way... do YOU want a HavaShitz? <em>giggle, giggle, hee, hee</em><br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<br />
<em>Oh my, what has my mother gotten us into!? I admit that once again she was right when it came to adding Wags and Mindy to our family. But please, please, please don't let the mantle of</em> <strong>THE CRAZY DOG LADY</strong> <em>fall on me. I love you!</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-91325993994823117042011-01-18T21:56:00.000-08:002011-01-18T21:56:40.334-08:00A Little GemPeople are very kind. I've had a number of people tell me how much they enjoy reading this blog (really?!?). And I've had threats of physical violence if I don't write more (you know who you are!). And in so many ways that is quite motivating...<br />
<br />
but... (and there is a but!)<br />
<br />
What to write? I'm not clever or insightful or original everyday. Who are we kidding. I'm lucky when it happens at all! Now if I thought you'd all like to read a steady stream of me lamenting whatever area of my life I'm struggling with then I would be set. I could go on for days, weeks, years! But then, <strong><em>I</em></strong> would be bored. Because even in my struggles I'm not original. Round and round I go on the same old merry-go-round of character flaws. My struggle with my weight, my struggle with selfishness, my struggle with my lack of discipline. Ugh. How tedious...<br />
<br />
Thankfully being clever or inspired or original doesn't have to start with me. If I open myself up to the wonder of the world around me I don't have to wait for long until a little gem falls into my lap. Like yesterday...<br />
<br />
Part of my life here in the Junction is that I am a substitute teacher. And maybe someday I'll write a whole post about how much I LOVE being a substitute teacher but for now just know that it fits me like a glove. I sub in classes from kindergarten to grade 12 and I think I'm just about the luckiest person. It cracks me up that I so thoroughly enjoy a job most people would avoid. And yesterday's little vignette will explain just one of the reasons I think I'm so darn fortunate.<br />
<br />
I was in an elementary class yesterday when I noticed one of the little girls starting to orbit me by recess. Not in an intrusive way - a little star in the night sky, always in the periphery, but always there. Apparently she doesn't always make it to school, and rarely returns after lunch if she makes it there in the morning. But there she was after lunch and she made her move, breaking into my atmosphere.<br />
<br />
"Mrs. Smnaski (Symanski is a hard word for little kids!)... I love you."<br />
<br />
WHAT? She loves me? But I didn't do anything but be a little bit kind and a little bit silly! I had no make-up on, a zit on the side of my face and I probably looked tired too. Not to mention all these character flaws I have. But, she loves me! And not only that, then she looked up at me with these adoring little eyes that convinced me she meant it. She really does. I remained composed but I felt a little like the Grinch whose heart grew three times when he heard the Whos in Whoville singing. And then not half an hour later...<br />
<br />
"Mrs. Smnaski, do you want to be my BEST friend?" Can you breathe? Needless to say Ken is no longer my best friend. He has been replaced by a six year old.<br />
<br />
And of course I'm inspired. By the generosity of her words. By her honesty, her warmth. Her transparency and her need. And whenever I'm in the school (which is quite a bit), I will try to check in on my new "best friend" because she is this lovely little mite who knows what she wants, what she needs, and isn't too shy too ask for it. And who can resist that? Not me.<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<br />
<em>You know all that I need and yet you love to hear me put it into words. Well, I love you and thank you for being my best friend...</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-82832620012914632672011-01-11T23:53:00.000-08:002011-01-11T23:57:46.250-08:00Newsy bits after my hissy fit!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that I had that thoroughly fulfilling hissy fit yesterday, I'm going to try and piece together something a little more, I don't know, mature. Don't get your hopes up though, it might not last long...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just returned from visiting beautiful B.C. with Brenna, our 11 - soon to be 12 - year old. In November when she heard Ken and I talking about the fact that I would be leaving after Christmas for a week to be in Tsawwassen for my dad's 70th birthday she flew into action! She promptly tore up her Christmas list and wrote a new one which sounded very much like this...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dear Santa, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can you please persuade (yes, she used the word persuade!) my Mom and Dad to allow me to go to B.C. for my Magic Grandpa's 70th birthday? I really want to go to see him and my Magic Grandma and my Great Grandma who is 100 years old. I'm dying to see her! Brenna</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And the campaign was on. Daily Brenna talked about going to B.C. She drove a hard bargain! When we told her that it was more than we spend on Christmas for one child, she quickly assured us that we could go together with Santa on it AND it would be her birthday gift as well. (Her birthday is in January). Every so often I would see her looking a little blue and when I inquired about the long face she would reply, "Mom, if I don't get to go to B.C. for Christmas I will cry on Christmas day and spend all my Christmas break depressed in my room." We did what we could to prepare her for the disappointment of not getting to go, encouraging her to be grateful for whatever came her way, all the while knowing her ticket had already been purchased. Christmas morning she was elated to open a box holding her itinerary neatly folded into a paper airplane from Mom, Dad, Santa and Yukon Grandpa and Grandma. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so we took off together with my sister Janette on New Year's Eve to surprise Magic Grandpa (my dad is a magician thus the moniker "Magic Grandpa"). My dad and step mom celebrate their anniversary on New Year's so we would be there to celebrate with them as well as for Dad's birthday the next day. Magic Grandma knew I was coming but had no idea about Brenna, and Dad didn't have a clue about either of us! Well it couldn't have turned out better! Dad was stunned and delighted to see me but a little perplexed by my insisting on opening my suitcase in the foyer to give them their Christmas gifts right away. They were both beside themselves when Brenna jumped out at them! What a fantastic memory for all of us! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our days were full from the moment we landed in B.C. to the moment we left. Highlights for me include...</span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Visiting with Charles and Phyllis McBeth. These family friends have known me for a looong time. Phyllis used to be one of my Brownie leaders! These folks are pure gold and it's always such a treat when I get to be with them. They're like a big cozy, well worn quilt you can wrap yourself in and feel safe and warm and loved. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Magic Grandpa's Pork Roast and Roast Potatoes with Magic Grandma's Homemade Applesauce - simply unbeatable and legendary. I'm not sure what we love more though. The meal itself or the pork sandwiches you get for the plane ride home. Mmmmmm.... Dad and Mom are the most amazing hosts. They tend to your every need. Fresh coffee in the morning, herbal tea in the evening, G & T's at 4 pm. Lots of hugs and laughs and teasing. Lots of teasing. Poor Dad, but he makes it sooo easy!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heading down to the outlet mall between Bellingham and Seattle. Janette and her partner, Clint dropped us off at Tulalip where Brenna and I shopped 'til we dropped and then spent the night in a hotel. Meanwhile Janette and Clint went on to Seattle to watch the Seahawks and then picked us up on their return trip the next day. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time spent with dear friends who are living in Burnaby for a year. These are not ordinary folks. These are those friends that you can pick up where you left off as if you were just out of the room for a bathroom break. I LOVE THESE PEOPLE! Mike is solid and gentle and true. Karla is all the colours in the Crayola Crayon Box of 64 colours. She is hopelessly creative, incurably sincere, and in a past life I think she was an interrogator from some crime agency. She is rapid fire with her questions and before you know it she knows your most deviant thoughts and deepest secrets. She's that good. And I can't even begin to tell you how much their three girls mean to us. They are these beautiful wildflowers that are being tended in the most wonderful ways and you can't help but fawn over them. Their oldest is one of Brenna's dearest friends and so it was pretty darn exciting for her to surprise Hannah at the school doors when we went to pick up the girls after school!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A visit with Great Grandma. She'll be 101 in April, Lord willing, and lights up whenever she sees Brenna. They've always had a sweet friendship. We call this our Pink and Fluffy Grandma because she has this wonderfully white hair and she always wears soft and baby pink clothes. She is simply darling and is a gift to all who know her. </span></li>
</ul><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And of course time spent with my daughter. It was a gift. Brenna is lovely and funny and dear. I love that what she wanted for Christmas was people. Ever since she was wee I have had a hard time buying Christmas gifts for her. I've often said that if I could just wrap up a person for her and put that under the tree - then she would be really happy. And so this year that's what she got. Time with people she loves. Magic Grandpa & Grandma, Auntie Janette, Uncle Clint, Auntie Karla, Uncle Mike, Hannah, Ellie, Sasha, Great Grandma. It was the right gift at the right time.</span><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jesus,</span></em><br />
<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can she really be turning twelve? That little one I was afraid to carry out those hospital doors? Hmmm... Twelve? Funny, I met you when I was twelve. I was never the same. May this year be that for Brenna. A year of meeting with you in unexpected and life altering ways. </span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And by the way, thanks. Thanks for carrying Brenna and Ken and I out those hospital doors that day and thanks for carrying us still. I love you.</span></em><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'til next time,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dianna</span>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-89016156966995823752011-01-10T14:01:00.000-08:002011-01-10T16:04:51.299-08:00One, Two, Three... RANT!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A rant, you ask? Yes. A rant.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had one of these a little while ago and it felt so good I thought I'd have another one...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to be a child. At some point in my life I wanted to grow up and be an adult and do adult things like stay up late and eat cookies whenever I wanted and drive a car and do what I wanted, when I wanted. But I recant. I take it back. I was wrong. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am choosing this day to regress. I'm hanging up my big girl panties and donning a nice, warm, cozy diaper. Sucking my thumb in a corner with my blankie is too terribly inviting. Heck, being a fetus floating around in my own urine (that's what amniotic fluid is - baby urine) sounds good to me right now. For the length of time that it takes me to peck out this blog post I'm completely committed to being the biggest 43 year old cry baby you've encountered possibly ever. And if you don't like it....blpssssst. It's my blog and I'll cry if I want to...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who the hell did I think I was thinking I could handle this whole "being a grown up" gig? What a joke! And for those of you who let me - how could you!?! It must have been clear from an early age that I wasn't cut out for this. And yet, did you stop me? Nooooo! You left me to careen pell-mell towards this insurmountable task of being a grown up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then you all attended my wedding like you thought I could handle being a wife! I couldn't do the dishes with my sister without it turning into an all out war. Who thought I could handle being in a close, cooperative relationship like MARRIAGE?!? And worse. I was permitted to have children! What on earth led all of you, including God, to I believe I was a remote candidate for this role? Are you kidding me! There were plenty of signs that I shouldn't be allowed such high levels of responsibility! I have yet to keep a plant alive! Seriously. What made anyone think I should be allowed to carry little human beings out of the hospital like I did? They really should screen people better before they allow that to happen. And I know sterilization is a controversial topic but in my case, I think I was a good candidate. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*breath*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And another thing... the books are wrong. The parenting ones. They are wildly deficient. Even the ones that contradict each other have that in common! (And don't get me started on how many differing opinions there are about how to parent! Tell me <strong><u>please</u></strong> how we are expected to wade through all the info and settle on one method?!? I propose we just rotate through them on a weekly basis to cover all the bases. Barbara Coloroso on Monday, What My Parents Did on Tuesday, Dr. Phil on Wednesday, Dr. Dobson on Thursday, Whatever The Hell Feels Right on Friday and then Saturday and Sunday let the Wolves have them!) </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I digress... the books are deficient because they haven't addressed one fundamental problem in this whole parenting dilemma. MY INSANITY! The fact that there are more times than I care to admit that my own ability to grow up, be mature, be unselfish, be patient, calm and loving <u>and</u> perceive the right way to parent is TOTALLY @#$%* UP! (excuse my language...). The books (at least the ones I've picked up) give lots of great advice on what to do with and for my kids but I need great advice on how to <em><strong>survive</strong></em> when I feel like my head is going to pop off if I hear "MOOOOM!" one more time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And another thing... that saying "more is caught than taught" (the idea that kids learn and pick up more from watching us than what we verbally teach them). I hate it. I despise it. That means that all the squabbling and fighting and whining and the generally annoying things my children do IS MY FAULT! Who can live with that knowledge? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now before you all rush to your keyboards to reassure me that my marriage of twenty years is an inspiration, my children are wonderful, I'm doing a fine job and I shouldn't be so hard on myself - don't. Don't bother. This is a rant and I will simply put my fingers in my ears, hum loudly and not listen to anything you have to say. Because today I choose to regress, hug my blankie tight, shit in my diaper if I want to, moan, complain, and generally be annoying because at 3:15 my pity party ends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And like every other screwed up wife and mom like me, I'll pull up my big girl panties, put away my blankie, stop whining and get on with this undoable job. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing. I'll try to solve the world's woes for one child, keep the other two from killing each other, talk about kindness and loving one another. I'll make dinner, help with homework, monitor screen time, make them eat their vegetables, take them to hockey, get them to bed at a reasonable hour and meanwhile be a loving, devoted wife.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But for now... WAAAAAAA......</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jesus,</span></em><br />
<em><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></em><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good thing you have a knack for the "impossible" because me and this whole wife and mother thing is right up your alley then. Have at it. I love you.</span></em><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">'til next time,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dianna</span>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-35571408871243717872010-11-07T21:55:00.000-08:002010-11-07T21:55:22.236-08:00Seeing Winnipeg....We were "in town" this past weekend. "In town" means Whitehorse. I've taken quite a generous amount of ribbing because I tend to say I'm going to "the city" when I'm heading into our territory's capital. They snicker at me! Intially I was a bit baffled as technically it is a city but eventually was set straight and was informed that going to "the city" around here means Vancouver or Edmonton. Who knew?!<br />
<br />
Going to Whitehorse isn't a big deal, only an hour and a half away and the road between us is in great condition. A very scenic drive as I've mentioned in the past and even the kids don't mind it if we can catch "The Debaters" on CBC (as long as the topic is appropriate) or they can "plug in" into a DVD player. The kids enjoy watching T.V. at the grandparents while we are there (we haven't got cable or satelite in the Junction by choice), playing with their cat and three dogs, going to the Canada Games Centre with the aunties and cousins for a swim and/or a skate. Ken enjoys going to the music store and the high he gets from the smell of new musical instruments and all the paraphenilia that goes with it and I, well, I do the practical icky stuff like groceryshopping/clothesshopping/dogfoodshopping/blah,blah,blahshopping. I do however reward myself with a ventisugarfreevanillalatte at Starbucks. Mmmmmm.<br />
<br />
And this time while dragging myself up to the jail like doors of Superzoo (aka Superstore) that promises to punish me with it's too narrow aisles and too wide carts and line ups that stretch into eternity and florescent lights that shine into my very soul and whisper "you'll never get out of here, you'll never be done, and the thing you most need you will forget to pick up... until the moment you've paid your bill!", well this time I saw someone who looked remarkably like someone I know in Winnipeg. And as I continued through my shopping over and over I saw people who reminded me of folks in Winnipeg. I don't know if it's that all Superstores are basically the same and so it evoked all this crazy familiarity but I must admit that by the time I left I was seeing Winnipeg everywhere and I was homesick! No, not homesick, peoplesick. I was missing faces that I've loved and appreciated for many years, I was missing the sweetness of community I experienced in Winnipeg. It was truly bittersweet. Bitter because I'm not there and sweet because I have such wonderful memories of the 'Peg.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to this morning. We're back in the Junction and getting up (after a lovely extra hour of sleep) to head over to the school for our version of "church". This morning we're in the home ec room to make up two huge pots of soup for a fundraiser we're having for Haiti (don't get me started on the sorrow I feel for that nation!) this week at school. Two of my dear friends here in the Junction are with us with their boys as well as a couple of other good friends of the kids. We talk about Haiti for a bit altogether and then the work starts. Some of the kids are having a hoot with the "slap chop" dicing up celery, some are crying as they peel onions, one is slicing his finger as he opens up tin cans, others are peeling garlic clove after garlic clove. The moms are bustling here and there administering first aid, doing dishes, and generally trying to keep track of the mayhem. And then we hit a lull where the jobs are done for the kids, and we stop, pray together for Haiti and for the soup to turn out PLEASE and then Ken takes the kids out to play while the moms finish up. We chat and laugh and just enjoy each others company.<br />
<br />
And then I'm reminded of my previous day in Whitehorse and the feelings swirling around in me. And I'm grateful. Grateful because as I looked around at the kids as we were discussing Haiti, I could see that we already have community here. People we can play, work and pray together with. And as we women had time together to finish up the soup and visit, I marvelled at these families who love my children and love us and feel like "family" already. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLx0Y-WTH4v_BK8F9H_UGQWHpmh8XCcIZRfKnv8DX_MmVMifWhPX146cSOGb1OUw-vumAON6o56JS9vcxFU-TpY8LI6hNg02lZSydz1Va9BoxMHUDBSgFdfFJ5Ks3b2_5ewjYGFxBnBg/s1600/Fall+10+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLx0Y-WTH4v_BK8F9H_UGQWHpmh8XCcIZRfKnv8DX_MmVMifWhPX146cSOGb1OUw-vumAON6o56JS9vcxFU-TpY8LI6hNg02lZSydz1Va9BoxMHUDBSgFdfFJ5Ks3b2_5ewjYGFxBnBg/s320/Fall+10+002.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I am oh so thankful. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Jesus,</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em><br />
</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Although I so appreciate and need the community you have provided - ultimately the community I crave is communion with you. Thank you that in you I am never alone. I love you.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'til next time, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dianna</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-65439755867102187162010-10-18T10:18:00.000-07:002010-10-18T10:18:30.905-07:00Waiting, waiting, waiting...For those of you still checking to see if I've finally posted... ta da! Pathetic I know, but I'm finally here none the less. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3053/2568920681_69c6a2e3be.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3053/2568920681_69c6a2e3be.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And here. In Haines Junction. Still. And if you look at the title of the blog it's changed slightly from "the one year northern adventure of the Symanski family" to "the ongoing northern adventure of the Symanski family". Long story but to make it a short one, we're here because by last spring it became plain that we were supposed to stay and make the Junction "home".</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">That's the short version. Maybe sometime I'll want to spend some time giving you a peek in on the long version but not today. It's a great tale, full of angst (should we? shouldn't we?), horror (leave our people in Winnipeg? NOOOoooo....), pathos (oh, the agony of goodbyes), comedy (we ARE the Symanskis and so comedy is inevitable), adrenaline (wow, we're really doing this!) and honest to goodness heartbreak (words fail me...).</div><br />
But also peace. The deep knowing in the pit of our very flawed selves that this was what we were meant for. That it was and is a God thing. And that both Ken and I felt that deep sense of "yes" together with the same intensity not only confirmed that we were heading in the right direction but also held us together in the days this past summer when we were packing up our life in Winnipeg and saying goodbye to some of THE GREATEST PEOPLE ON EARTH. Thanks be to God that He carried us through it all...<br />
<br />
And now we're are here. No longer one year visitors but residents. And life is good. And God is good. But I am still the same person here that I was in Winnipeg which means all my character flaws came with me. I tried to leave them behind. I tip toed away from them when they weren't looking. But they are tenacious little turds and the first time my kids and husband started to annoy me on our drive back to the Yukon from Manitoba they were right there, egging me on and I started to holler. Of course they didn't have far to go, I think they found me around Portage la Prairie...<br />
<br />
And so it goes, living life in this fascinating little village, trying to find out what I'm to put my hand to. What will I contribute to this community? There are so many things I could do, so many opportunities. But I have this fairly clean plate/slate before me and I want to be mindful of what I put on it. Ken and the kids and managing our home already has a big chunk of it, I want to be careful not to crowd them out. I know what it feels like to live a crowded life. I don't do well with it. I holler. I get cranky. I withdraw. I eat food I don't need and spend money I don't have. So whatever I add to my plate/slate I want to do it thoughtfully and resist the urge to impulsively add all the good things I see around me (this committee, that project, this idea, that activity) to my schedule. I want to be mindful and deliberate rather than rash and over zealous. (there's those sneaky character flaws again... I guess if I can't run away from them I'll have to contend with them.)<br />
<br />
I'll try to keep you posted about what's going on as we live life in our new home. Like I said, life is good and God is good so I'll try to share the goodness with you more frequently...<br />
<br />
<em>Jesus,</em><br />
<em>I am grateful. I'm so deeply aware of my "messiness" inside and out. And yet you don't hold it against me and you pour out your goodness all over my family and I. It's quite delicious and yummy and sustaining. I love you.</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-71686615362335425762010-05-30T08:59:00.000-07:002010-05-31T09:49:02.315-07:00To The Extraordinary, Astonishing Ken Symanski<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><em>Apparently I have no discretion, but that's another post altogether.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">We celebrated 20 years married last week (WOW!) and I wrote the following for Ken. Thought you might enjoy it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><strong>20 YEARS MARRIED, 20 REASONS TO LOVE YOU STILL...</strong></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72-U24RXLMXKDZ7KGAtEWNrRsR_lCCZ9NX6XRXO9ZyLjLsyNRVVZvZYQ3ntR8kQwCcQfgdgyxTKZ8l3mBgckSsJYgR-4TJXcPotGLLL3B4MgLhQNZAcKTuNWQu57S6DEVmSXhseYXq1o/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72-U24RXLMXKDZ7KGAtEWNrRsR_lCCZ9NX6XRXO9ZyLjLsyNRVVZvZYQ3ntR8kQwCcQfgdgyxTKZ8l3mBgckSsJYgR-4TJXcPotGLLL3B4MgLhQNZAcKTuNWQu57S6DEVmSXhseYXq1o/s200/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+034.jpg" width="150" wt="true" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You wrote the song that you sang when I walked down the aisle on our wedding day. I was so happy to be marrying you!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You make me laugh everyday. Some days it's a snicker but often it's a belly laugh.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">I love that you work hard but you play harder.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You were willing to go on an adventure to the Yukon for a year and fall in love with it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You love my family, every crazy one of us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are affectionate, loving and passionate.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">I love your green eyes and the smiling lines around them!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are faithful and true. You cultivate an atmosphere of relational safety in our lives.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You dance. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You care more about people than things.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are generous. You rub my feet with lotion even though I know you hate it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You speak a blessing over our children every night.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You sing to and with our children. You wrote a song for them when they were born.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are rarely grumpy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are great at accents. My favourites are Jimmy Stewart and Jim from Taxi. Your Robert DeNiro is good too!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You'll go toe to toe with me even when I'm being dogmatic and pigheaded.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are humble. You can admit when you're wrong and you stop everything with a heartfelt apology.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You don't rub it in when you are right.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You are utterly unique. You have orange feet and a Star Trek Insignia and hands that move simultaneously.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">You love God and you love people. You inspire me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"><strong><em>I do not deserve you but I greedily accept and love you!</em></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Jesus,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Thank you for the man I married. He's one of a kind!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">'til next time,</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Dianna</span>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-90117286350570502552010-05-17T04:48:00.000-07:002010-05-17T04:48:08.040-07:004:30 a.m.4:30 a.m. and I'm awake. Sun is starting to light the sky already. I haven't written in oh-so-long which by now you know means I'm too busy, slightly overwhelmed or avoiding something. I admit I'm not too busy (a little busy but not too busy) but the slightly overwhelmed/avoiding something is right up my alley. <br />
<br />
All is good here and by the end of this week I'll try to sort out my thoughts enough to get it down in the blog. But for know can I just say that I have an amazing God, family and friends (all over the place)! I am hugely grateful and humbled and and a wee bit nervous...<br />
<br />
That's all. Stay posted...<br />
<br />
Jesus,<br />
<br />
I'm tucking into you right now. You are are warm and strong and wonderfully present. I love you.<br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-4168841400704149332010-04-23T11:51:00.000-07:002010-04-23T11:54:19.646-07:00Beach Day?So I'm on day 57 of this nasty cold (OK, so not 57, but I'm sure it's at least 27... that's how it feels) and I have a few questions...<br />
<br />
- Did I ever have a voice that wasn't so deep and sexy? <br />
<br />
- Why can't I get $ for the amount of snot I produce? I think we should develop a vehicle that runs on snot. I'll supply the fuel, if you supply the research. <br />
<br />
- Why does my sneeze scare small children (and Ken) and send them running for cover? I used to be able to suppress my sneeze into a nice lady like squeak. Now I sound like <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Shrek</span>. Is it an over 40 thing? And why didn't someone warn me?<br />
<br />
I think that's all for now. I am getting better little by little. The loud whining you hear from a northerly direction will subside soon I'm sure.<br />
<br />
Onto brighter topics, last weekend we went on an adventure (I was sick of being inside with my you-know-what) out to <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Kluane</span> Lake. It is farther along the Alaska Highway from the Junction (about 40 min.) and the views once again were stunning. There is no end to the beautiful sights around here. Brenna was off snowmobiling in the mountains for the day with her buddies Travis and Michael and Travis' dad so she wasn't along with us.<br />
<br />
I have to say part of the beauty and fun of the day was going with friends we've made here in the Junction. We have felt overwhelmed at their kindness since the first week we arrived here! Dave and Cindi and their children have been here three years now (from <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Tofino</span>, B.C.) and are warm and generous folk who are downright fascinating. They have both spent many years as wilderness guides and on the spectrum of outdoorsy - we couldn't be farther away from each other! But they graciously put up with how "citified" we are and have already taught us so much. And not in that condescending way that makes you keenly aware of all you don't know but rather in the arm in arm kinda way that makes you feel like an equal (although I'm really as dumb as a sack of hammers when it comes to the outdoors!).<br />
<br />
They have two boys, one in grade one with Jay and one in grade three with Will. Terrific boys (I adore them) and great pals to our boys. Brenna loves Cindi and has ditched me on occasion to spend time with her. I'm glad. Brenna is well loved by her surrogate aunties in Winnipeg and has missed their attention. Cindi fills that gap in a wonderful way. Cindi and I have wonderful chats together and I am often inspired by her commitment to making this world a better place. Dave and I love to give each other a hard time and we too have great conversations. He is a committed environmentalist who lives a lifestyle that I find challenges me to be a better steward of our earth. Oh I could go on...<br />
<br />
But back to last weekend and some pics of our day. These pics are from our time on the beach at <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">Kluane</span> Lake. There's still ice on the lake but the sand was mostly clear and made for lots of fun. We had a fire, roasted bison smokies for lunch (yum) and enjoyed the amazing vistas! Cindi helped the boys fly a stunt kite...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGUfAINfYWgMKzidztxPZK9M34gsq0YppS0SMv1vVpreJ2pVsbn-GWISSg7Rpmz52y0zxEK8CHlJf0OMYabBdZnAmyKIjtp0Xih0zB0IgqOP8UfEfGfU6Cf4WJfDkiF4Ecq6Ct-saqBfg/s1600/April+17+086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGUfAINfYWgMKzidztxPZK9M34gsq0YppS0SMv1vVpreJ2pVsbn-GWISSg7Rpmz52y0zxEK8CHlJf0OMYabBdZnAmyKIjtp0Xih0zB0IgqOP8UfEfGfU6Cf4WJfDkiF4Ecq6Ct-saqBfg/s320/April+17+086.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The boys enjoyed beach combing and building!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfbJqo6MHs_qQ8O3XcOAIy_IgGn2JVvRKNnsWYEflI5XPxZCbdHcCmcJzKevKaaUBVrjLECNnbB5lGmhW6U6kB67JKSQ_KVy7f3QJ5bYHxYGY6PC8WqepVDJgZX67nXsfDxk7EO3vNqA/s1600/April+17+032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJfbJqo6MHs_qQ8O3XcOAIy_IgGn2JVvRKNnsWYEflI5XPxZCbdHcCmcJzKevKaaUBVrjLECNnbB5lGmhW6U6kB67JKSQ_KVy7f3QJ5bYHxYGY6PC8WqepVDJgZX67nXsfDxk7EO3vNqA/s320/April+17+032.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWVgNrvxOjREqPLKgCHgYZDo1kQo3NyqGt3d848sm7wXRSm1mfUrSk-T8u7WgKINJVSp32wr_MilywbmmOcUBOiNFtdsk9DofKiBDFKcJOmzatDaHhESSp8gxs1fxAfbR5omGI0J-6pI/s1600/April+17+091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnWVgNrvxOjREqPLKgCHgYZDo1kQo3NyqGt3d848sm7wXRSm1mfUrSk-T8u7WgKINJVSp32wr_MilywbmmOcUBOiNFtdsk9DofKiBDFKcJOmzatDaHhESSp8gxs1fxAfbR5omGI0J-6pI/s320/April+17+091.jpg" tt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyjoZmxhYFMFa6R4z6E7yHLinNtVwe4g8CqblRNmWB1ffRzicGRWEBa6QV9XNsx_xPlrwh0rPnTd82tM3onGnzcFOgr5K1oETQIf4v6rdEgcNrGQnN9oWnbasJs7XMw3l9LPyvBeOzWw/s1600/April+17+050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyjoZmxhYFMFa6R4z6E7yHLinNtVwe4g8CqblRNmWB1ffRzicGRWEBa6QV9XNsx_xPlrwh0rPnTd82tM3onGnzcFOgr5K1oETQIf4v6rdEgcNrGQnN9oWnbasJs7XMw3l9LPyvBeOzWw/s320/April+17+050.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Our good friends and one of their Bernese </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Mountain dogs (what wonderful dogs!)</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzSjZlCKXF5y3cdFGwIxZKVcHkPYhl4b5kcUROiXAIaCOtSYvmMEWzSdDoipD28lQyxMRKI5zlNLovvrjuExSCEL9SSvT2zRfRR6xFdHPxl8Z58r9RWW8wPKpxQ4Z8TJ6mOsVL770uEk/s1600/April+17+090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzSjZlCKXF5y3cdFGwIxZKVcHkPYhl4b5kcUROiXAIaCOtSYvmMEWzSdDoipD28lQyxMRKI5zlNLovvrjuExSCEL9SSvT2zRfRR6xFdHPxl8Z58r9RWW8wPKpxQ4Z8TJ6mOsVL770uEk/s320/April+17+090.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">... and then time to head home after a full day of sunshine, fresh air and good company.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNrhFDzaVe0L0AOZR_TtpPlL6dm4AtFHULLeEBgh41bUuA9P0vzrpv6325QYOVFiaYjr6nGuZE5Hk26MwqKg8UFZmmSBdz3KDYg-KYA9psiVlCc2_nLTv7fzH79et3WCwhetg9eK3qMo/s1600/April+17+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNrhFDzaVe0L0AOZR_TtpPlL6dm4AtFHULLeEBgh41bUuA9P0vzrpv6325QYOVFiaYjr6nGuZE5Hk26MwqKg8UFZmmSBdz3KDYg-KYA9psiVlCc2_nLTv7fzH79et3WCwhetg9eK3qMo/s320/April+17+006.jpg" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Can you believe the views? I was in awe the whole time I was there. What a gift of a day.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Jesus,</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I think you must smile when you see my reaction to your creation. You knock my socks off. And I really love you.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">'til next time,</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Dianna</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">(There's another family here that we've also connected with that I'll brag about another time. Another neat family that we feel richer for having met.)</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-49951187800371784182010-04-15T15:54:00.000-07:002010-04-15T15:54:15.058-07:00I've got a cowd...It's true... I've got one of those nasty cowds. "Cowd" because I can't pronounce my "l's". I thought of writing (cough, cough) an entire post with no "l's" and with inserted sound effects (sniff, sniff). But I won't (hoooonk). It's just too gross.<br />
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The kids and Ken are fantastic. They've all pitched in so that I can rest and get better. I usually drive them back to school after they walk home at lunch but today they all marched off willingly so that I wouldn't have to. Ten minutes later however, they were back. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0jgRZ_8Aiai8RGL-GpLXQ5oTk2_-OqwXs8Y-Ystb4DJ7d0YfDn9-KH-5xufj0DagedXrz5vhl4GbACeH1g8JrjBU8PFlMm9sSFVBFGHv2o33wqSi2H-32Uexou1LCY6LN-5QX_W0t64/s1600/April+15+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0jgRZ_8Aiai8RGL-GpLXQ5oTk2_-OqwXs8Y-Ystb4DJ7d0YfDn9-KH-5xufj0DagedXrz5vhl4GbACeH1g8JrjBU8PFlMm9sSFVBFGHv2o33wqSi2H-32Uexou1LCY6LN-5QX_W0t64/s320/April+15+002.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jay got sucked into a muddy spot (I'm sure it jumped out at him and attacked him.) Oh, the power of mud! Brenna had to go in to rescue him (as you can see by the pink laced shoes in the pic). We'll laugh about it someday soon but today Jay was bawling, Brenna was fit to be tied and Will, well he just look relieved to be a spectator for this one!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The snow is melting in earnest and the ditches are full and running. Ken is looking forward to floating some boats down them with the kids this evening. I'll try to get pics! Living here has Ken getting in touch with his childhood growing up in Cook's Creek, MB. He's loving doing some things with our kids that he did growing up in the country. I'm very thankful for our time here.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've slept most of the day but had a chance to try a little craft I've been wanting to. Started with a few old records I had picked up at the Sally Ann (where else). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFeyCwYVElIbaoFK9KCKn7agouDYRfNp6Ve_PHsSTmepfqFnlzYLX56jskxxTbVvNZLb4Xqx_sai4xqAeUlh3gYkRuvB_2kXdfMZmDWLPZ1WGvJWMprEvywGvJur4_RefNvikXEiSBZg/s1600/April+15+009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVFeyCwYVElIbaoFK9KCKn7agouDYRfNp6Ve_PHsSTmepfqFnlzYLX56jskxxTbVvNZLb4Xqx_sai4xqAeUlh3gYkRuvB_2kXdfMZmDWLPZ1WGvJWMprEvywGvJur4_RefNvikXEiSBZg/s320/April+15+009.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Then I followed the instructions on <a href="http://www.homemademamas.net/">http://www.homemademamas.net/</a> and made these.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmhqbPDMPhHPg1C-3Z6CjLNarSKu7jZBseObFp2RtyUbkDf8Ujm1FZeeNkwn_99p_c0wzfVTaJ_Ya0_f_0MfwZnvRNelb5GdbcSmCw2WvF-87k-X1RhrF2EAqTlRl2-cERmZvUZDbITG4/s1600/April+15+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmhqbPDMPhHPg1C-3Z6CjLNarSKu7jZBseObFp2RtyUbkDf8Ujm1FZeeNkwn_99p_c0wzfVTaJ_Ya0_f_0MfwZnvRNelb5GdbcSmCw2WvF-87k-X1RhrF2EAqTlRl2-cERmZvUZDbITG4/s320/April+15+005.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm not sure yet what I'll use them for (planters or chip and dip bowls) and if I'll paint them or not, but what an easy way to reuse old albums! I'd like to try making more but this time outside on a barbeque as I'm not crazy about the fumes it gives off. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'nuff said. I feel the need to (sniff, sniff) go drink some hot lemon and honey (honk, honk). If I was in Winnipeg right now, our dear neighbour, Mr. Miner, would be at my door with a hot toddy for me to drink to knock this cold on it's ass! Oh, I do miss Mr. Miner!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Jesus,</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Thank you for the fun of spring and puddles and the comfort of memories and hot toddys. I love you.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'til next time,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dianna</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-66070640830812546832010-04-13T14:11:00.000-07:002010-04-13T14:14:37.417-07:00stories<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you and I both know that my kids are amazing. Amazingly wonderful and sometimes even amazingly horrible. But all in all the tally works in their favour and they get the privilege of living another day with the crazy, off beat lady they call "Mom".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many times they pull themselves back from the edge of doom with a stunning act of redemption that leaves them not fearing the edge for at least a while. My Will has done just that today. Of all my kids, Will fears the edge the least, tightrope walks along it, and bungee jumps off it once in a while. He is outstanding in his defiance but spectacular in his redemptive qualities.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today he walks in at lunch time with a sweet grin on his face, eager to show me what he's done. His teacher has given him a new scribbler. He loves getting a new notebook. The fresh, clean page lays before him with endless possibilities. And this is the poem he wrote... (remember, this kid is eight years old)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggiEMLbHNn-Ecz3nYpYLN2WUw1J_5iHHbFIcCTmCV75A5yb4jcIaabSAS6LUPZ_9Aiju8tAHAviKqtGI2drD-mFXHYWsgnrxVAok4K73ibA2Wt15p98jpCwygjuUhmDJ-JgxdCBtDOIdo/s1600/April+13+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggiEMLbHNn-Ecz3nYpYLN2WUw1J_5iHHbFIcCTmCV75A5yb4jcIaabSAS6LUPZ_9Aiju8tAHAviKqtGI2drD-mFXHYWsgnrxVAok4K73ibA2Wt15p98jpCwygjuUhmDJ-JgxdCBtDOIdo/s400/April+13+001.jpg" width="400" wt="true" /></span></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if you can't make it out... here it is...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It all starts with the increasing of friendship, the patterns </span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of love, and the care people have for</span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">each other.</span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">REMEMBER</span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">THIS</span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">W. Symanski</span></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Am I the only one impressed? I don't think so! I must admit that I read the "REMEMBER THIS" a couple ways. First, I think it means that we're supposed to remember the truth of what he's written. Absolutely. But then I think it may just be a message to me to remember this little poem and what a wonderful writer he is when I am threatening to wring his scrawny little neck! Either way I think it's just brilliant.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And then there is our Jay. Remember the one who refused to go over the alphabet with me last summer as we were trying to prepare him for Grade One? I just received my first love note from him. Delicious!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZi3MzyKJ5lt1as8LZ8UnKxEvj-O-mSOEFtzFodptricsrA_EDeJ96MChBTbEa9q2e4Lt5KGzKUp-iU6CteNho08-Cslwwdct0oaPOuhUGvq_OvrhPjsQ0bBtnIDcOnnRO6c7Z81lUiZk/s1600/April+13+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZi3MzyKJ5lt1as8LZ8UnKxEvj-O-mSOEFtzFodptricsrA_EDeJ96MChBTbEa9q2e4Lt5KGzKUp-iU6CteNho08-Cslwwdct0oaPOuhUGvq_OvrhPjsQ0bBtnIDcOnnRO6c7Z81lUiZk/s320/April+13+003.jpg" wt="true" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So both boys obviously know how to work their Momma. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And Brenna is right in there, being amazing and wonderful. Last night she made me a wonderful cup of hot lemon and honey to sooth my sore throat (I have a cold). She is a wonderful mix of sweet and funny. She loves to play a good practical joke and so April Fool's Day was right up her alley! And it lasted for three days! For example</span></div><br />
<ul><li><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - corn syrup in the shampoo bottle</span></div></li>
</ul><ul><li><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - taping the kitchen sprayer down so that when I turned the faucet on I got soaked (she got both Ken and I with that one!)</span></div></li>
</ul><ul><li><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> - swapped out the sugar in the sugar bowl for salt so when Jay put a teaspoon of it on his rice krispies he got a big surprise!</span></div></li>
</ul><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know I've forgotten some but the best one of all is one some of you male readers might not want to read so feel free to skip the part between the asterisks!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After school Brenna called frantically from the bathroom for me. When I entered she looked stricken and showed me her underwear. There were the tell-tale signs of a girl's first period. I didn't believe her of course, it being April Fool's and all. But she was REALLY convincing. REALLY. I was totally on the fence and had to do what I least wanted to do. I asked for her underwear to examine more closely and thankfully figured out quite quickly that it was ketchup! Oh my! The best part is when she did it to Ken later on that evening. Poor Ken. He kept calling me to deal with it. Rather panicked I must say. She could have kept him going for a while but I am obviously not as good an actor! The gig was up and a good laugh was had by all!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There. Stories done. Hope you all had a grin.</span><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>Jesus,</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>How clever you make each one of us. So unique and fresh and complex. You are a wonder.</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">'til next time,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Dianna</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-11112122547177230972010-04-09T09:17:00.000-07:002010-04-09T09:18:45.805-07:00Smiling...Things that make me smile in the morning...<br />
<br />
Ken - "Bye, I'm going!" (He's walking to work a bit earlier)<br />
<br />
Kids - "Wait, Daddy, wait!" (kids run to smother him with hugs and kisses)<br />
<br />
Mom - "Okay, guys, it's not like you're not going to see him soon - you all go to the same school!" (ever the pragmatic one)<br />
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Brenna (the oldest child, and even more pragmatic than me, responds dryly) - "yah, but he might get trampled by a moose."<br />
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Will and Jay - "Yah!"<br />
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Hmmm. Too funny. Life in Haines Junction, Yukon.<br />
<br />
Like the time a friend and I were stepping out for a few minutes, leaving the kids on their own, and she looks at them and asks them what they need to remember while we're gone. I know the answer of course and quickly remind them not to open the door to strangers. My girlfriend looks at me quizzically and snickers. "No, don't run with food in your mouth." Me, city girl, afraid of strangers - her, town girl, knows everyone around here and is more afraid of them choking!<br />
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On another tangent... I finished another piece of art. I like the flowers and pot but am undecided about the background. It looks more mosiac than I was going for. I'm happiest with the pot. It's made out of a page from out of an old hymn book I picked up at the, you guessed it, Sally Ann. It's the hymn "In the Garden" and if you look closely enough you can see the words of the chorus are arranged in a way that you can still read it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzHnoDPiyzWhA3X19I1AL2kdXE7tDd_S3f3S3nf29wXKmfGbBievcRkb-vLXXLC4V5IeAg7DXxipYStHin8SK1unE3SeqMTTEAfmKlSqxh32OHwOq-cEwxc77Cz3XH2zlFXjHM0-48nc/s1600/April+8+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGzHnoDPiyzWhA3X19I1AL2kdXE7tDd_S3f3S3nf29wXKmfGbBievcRkb-vLXXLC4V5IeAg7DXxipYStHin8SK1unE3SeqMTTEAfmKlSqxh32OHwOq-cEwxc77Cz3XH2zlFXjHM0-48nc/s320/April+8+003.jpg" width="320" wt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Vsad4fYnTnYaPYDjPx2GPh8_5-duiBDEzgk0BV2uVgA1klXOxKyLrzL6kcw-PINE3dJzevpPMYGp7838BQM9DJf9NlZSpMH8vuRAMNBFdw0pkDtvi0Y4bYcRe9Y4GZNyvA3nCS_li4A/s1600/April+8+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Vsad4fYnTnYaPYDjPx2GPh8_5-duiBDEzgk0BV2uVgA1klXOxKyLrzL6kcw-PINE3dJzevpPMYGp7838BQM9DJf9NlZSpMH8vuRAMNBFdw0pkDtvi0Y4bYcRe9Y4GZNyvA3nCS_li4A/s320/April+8+004.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><br />
Most of my ideas and my freedom to try to do art come from a wonderful friend named Karla. The tree in the last post was inspired by her, as well as this piece. Her use of collage and mod podge made me want to try my hand at it. She's also a great encourager! Someday she'll have a blog of her own and you'll just LOVE it. In lots of ways although I'm a Jesus "wannabe", I'm also a Karla "wannabe". <br />
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<em>Jesus,</em><br />
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<em>Thank you for the gift of playing with paper, mod podge, and fanciful ideas and thank you for people who inspire others by their gift of playing with paper, mod podge, and fanciful ideas. I love you.</em><br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-12420692089759395852010-04-08T20:08:00.000-07:002010-04-08T20:08:58.608-07:00gasp... must blog... can't go any further... gasp... <br />
<br />
<div> </div>ahhhh.... much better. That was a close one! <br />
<br />
Okay, enough drama. On with the show/post.<br />
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Easter has come and gone. They have a four day weekend here as the school gets Easter Monday off too. This followed two weeks of school after a two week spring break so we are seriously relaxed people!<br />
<br />
We had the privilege of hosting Easter Dinner here for the fam' which turned out fine as everyone pitched in. It's a real treat to be with my sisters and their families for holidays (my parents are away on vacation for a month). I did panic, however, the days before they arrived as the walls of our home were bare, white and BORING! I always have art ideas that I never get to, but this gave me the motivation!<br />
<br />
Here's what I came up with... keep in mind I didn't want to spend any money so I used whatever I had on hand here.<br />
<br />
First I spray painted black an old frame that I had from the Sally Ann. Then I messed about with some Mod Podge, newspaper, magazines and pipe cleaners and came up with a tree...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXHJanVwq6kahBajVDvBpop5MbW4onzcb8_NLNoEN9AlFs2O0ExedQu-vqlZjUYspCY9Ok4eEtepoVY8-ucwr9qVV774STOUXtHbS4RM9RuTG7BTyd6sKlnIo2Q_iFN82kEIclJEi5VE/s1600/Art+10-1+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXHJanVwq6kahBajVDvBpop5MbW4onzcb8_NLNoEN9AlFs2O0ExedQu-vqlZjUYspCY9Ok4eEtepoVY8-ucwr9qVV774STOUXtHbS4RM9RuTG7BTyd6sKlnIo2Q_iFN82kEIclJEi5VE/s320/Art+10-1+004.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>The little tag says "HOME". I like how it fills the wall and has dimension. I've had some nice comments on it so I'm encouraged (I'm a little insecure about my atrt ability). But then there's my other wall... <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM53XPHKpofdPv9QXpz4HSCSMpsPIhTa7QYkcMTo7fnstTMPsGnkiJ-n584huR9FhBNQkSORKfZc1HQwNgpbL9io5Nfh7KNFozaJhcVahvyeOpsikDeV8ijUAP3PBiS9H1Zg1qPkIXjQ0/s1600/Art+10-1+005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM53XPHKpofdPv9QXpz4HSCSMpsPIhTa7QYkcMTo7fnstTMPsGnkiJ-n584huR9FhBNQkSORKfZc1HQwNgpbL9io5Nfh7KNFozaJhcVahvyeOpsikDeV8ijUAP3PBiS9H1Zg1qPkIXjQ0/s320/Art+10-1+005.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I get such a kick out of this piece! I love the way it looks and it makes me smile when I think of how easy it was and what it is made out of. Any guesses? Toilet paper rolls. Really! Flattened and cut toilet paper rolls, glued together (held with paper clips until the glue dried) and then put up on the wall just a few hours later. Cost - $0.00! Impact - priceless! (not a original idea - I got it from a blog called "homemade mamas")</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So now I'm motivated to do some more stuff. I'll post whatever I come up with as they get done. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On a different note... the hours of daylight here now are crazy! I feel like a different person. It's so energizing when you wake up and it's light and you go to bed and it's still light. I checked today to see how many hours of daylight we were getting compared to Winnipeg and we are ahead by 1hr and 5min. minutes. So although I know we'll get about another three to four weeks of winter than Winnipeg, all the glorious light makes up for it. By the last day of school (June 11) we'll have 24 hours daylight! We're going to have to put up something on the kids windows if I'm ever going to get them to sleep.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>Jesus,</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><em>You are a poem. I love you even when I don't understand you all the time.</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'til next time,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dianna</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-73750452986574640742010-03-25T22:36:00.000-07:002010-03-27T08:31:32.154-07:00The Smelly MeGreat quote...<br />
<br />
<blockquote></blockquote><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;">"Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. <strong><em>When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored.</em></strong> We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship." Anne Lamott (italics mine)</div></blockquote><br />
I wholeheartedly agree. And as I've been impacted by the honest and earthy writings of folks like Anne Lamott and Donald Miller it has provoked me to not just write but also to live more honestly and authentically than I have in the past. I certainly haven't arrived and lots of times I'm a chicken shit and like to hide "the me that stinks". But I feel enough gratitude to these other honest/authentic truth tellers who have made me say, "Whew, I'm not the only one!" that most of the time I want to join them on the limb they've climbed out on. I want to maybe, in a small way, help other people know they are not alone and restore some buoyancy to the lives they live.<br />
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Here's the catch. That takes a whole lot of courage! With a capital C! Because you run the risk of being judged. Who are we kidding? You will be judged. We live in a time and place where "success" is often defined by the shiny magazines that show off perfect bodies, perfect houses that are perfectly decorated, perfect vacation spots, even perfect blogs... you get the idea. Living with authenticity would be easy if my life looked like that but it doesn't! My life is more like a ratty old magazine that you find in a thrift store. It's a little out of date, pages are missing and it smells a bit off. <br />
<br />
Most days I'm okay with that. (Great line from the Veggie Tale movie, <strong><em>Jonah</em></strong>, "I am a caterpillar. Well, that's not entirely true. My mother was a caterpillar, my father was a worm, but I'm okay with that now.") Then there are the "green eyed monster days" where I'm not. My heart is fearful and petty and small and jealous and downright stinky. And so I do stupid things like hide. Hide from others, hide from myself, and from Jesus. <br />
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I commit myself to living a quasi-life. Not really living, just existing. Ken often says the quote, "If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space." And it's funny, here we are on this glorious adventure that many might say, "Wow, look at them, those wild and crazy Symanskis!", but when you get into the guts of the adventure it's more normal than you ever realized it would be. The setting is different but the actors haven't changed. I'm still me, my family is still my family, and our challenge with figuring out our way through family life without losing the plot is still our challenge.<br />
<br />
So hooray for adventures of all kinds but today I'm faced with whether I'm willing to live the adventure of living outside of the fears and insecurities of the realities of my less than perfect, somewhat "thrift store", life. Am I willing to come out of hiding and let myself be known wherever and whoever I am? Am I willing to let Jesus open up places inside me that need His help? Am I willing to stop hiding from myself and beating myself up with forced isolation? Hmmm.... deep thoughts....<br />
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I love and am inspired by this true little anecdote. <br />
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Never having embraced thrift store shopping as a child, it took me a while to warm up to the idea as I moved into adulthood. Generally my generation snubbed second hand clothes as "beneath" us. And personally I hated the smell. You know, that musty smell of used clothes and furniture that hangs in the air like the stores all had the same brand of aerosol, <em>"Second Hand Smells".</em> However, in the last ten to fifteen years I've noticed that not only has it become acceptable to shop at "Value Village" and the "Sally Ann", but the items found there are often worn like badges of honour! And I have been converted. I have my favourite thrift shops in Winnipeg and rarely does a trip into Whitehorse go by without a stop at the Sally Ann there. <br />
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And Brenna LOVES it. If I come home with a second hand piece of clothing she is thrilled and the lower the price the better! Last week while we were in Whitehorse we stopped at the Sally Ann and as we walked in the door she looked up at me with grin on her face and said, "I just love the smell of this place." I inwardly clicked my heels.<br />
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And here's the lesson and inspiration in that for me. Just as I've been making the effort to living authentically, honestly and out of hiding, can I get to the place that I love the smell of it? Can I get to the place where I value the scent of my own life with its own <em>"Second Hand Smells"</em> like Brenna does the smell of the thrift store? Can I get to the place where I wear my own life not necessarily as a badge of honour but as an example of a life that like a perfectly fine old pair of jeans rescued from the landfill, is redeemed and worthy of celebrating? Oh, that sounds just yummy and true and right. I want that.<br />
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Jesus,<br />
<br />
Thanks for rescuing me, redeeming me. I celebrate you and the life you've given me. You smell good.<br />
<br />
'til next time,<br />
<br />
DiannaDiannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3365287915721740962.post-53261734148065990552010-03-24T21:25:00.000-07:002010-03-25T12:30:13.456-07:00Lotsa Fun!Yikes! I can't believe it's already been twelve days since I last posted! I could come up with all kinds of excuses and some of them might even be true but really who wants to hear a bunch of excuses!<br />
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Spring Break ROCKED! Okay, yes, there were pockets of time that I longed for their teachers and wanted to run screaming into sunset where I am sure they keep all the patience I run out of, but all in all I really enjoyed being with Ken and the kids. <br />
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Highlights...<br />
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... skiing a second time at Mt. Sima with family and friends<br />
... tobogganning, tobogganning and more tobogganning<br />
... going out 2x on a date with Ken, once to a house concert here in the Junction featuring Bill Bourne (great musician!), and another time out for supper with a gift certificate I won in a raffle<br />
... enjoying the amazing weather with lots of bright blue skies, mild temperatures and beautiful sights<br />
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Super Highlight...<br />
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... day at Kathleen Lake planned and run by Parks Canada, Junction Arts and Music and Haines Junction Minor Hockey. What a fantastic day! We were outside from 10:30 to 4:30 and it was absolutely glorious.<br />
The pictures tell the story better than I can...<br />
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The kids played Pond Hockey with an unbelievable backdrop.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-S5uckWuNgwcImgC0NhwHB7MurQVfTJX7IyOFxzoMtPepbQ1tzlkJhYHHKzEdyA7qMJ2nN_L1aEecvrMEWb6QQMd51oWnNEcUkbvjzMU_KXIc_m9qzYUWhCF3mnpuO1PSmLxjIkVN2g/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6-S5uckWuNgwcImgC0NhwHB7MurQVfTJX7IyOFxzoMtPepbQ1tzlkJhYHHKzEdyA7qMJ2nN_L1aEecvrMEWb6QQMd51oWnNEcUkbvjzMU_KXIc_m9qzYUWhCF3mnpuO1PSmLxjIkVN2g/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+038.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi50jhuX5Q1ugvaPl0mJuJwZSGDpRHZPAiUaDyxkcfsp4UpewzdHDlcsYjNEUGOASljZ4ImcNinWcurLGRA1oByfvT9H9UzQ3jXeq6n7vvudLMiLolzzZ_KyFG6bOvPpB4y9GVSkZ4v2JE/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi50jhuX5Q1ugvaPl0mJuJwZSGDpRHZPAiUaDyxkcfsp4UpewzdHDlcsYjNEUGOASljZ4ImcNinWcurLGRA1oByfvT9H9UzQ3jXeq6n7vvudLMiLolzzZ_KyFG6bOvPpB4y9GVSkZ4v2JE/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+113.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">No Zamboni but who cares in a setting like this! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFzDd7cBnYK-PeSZaaT0H9wvwXqN-9JQd_xw1s3Jij8hyphenhyphenkcf_BBwvWydteopAIBWJwdsJZQOUC1EzMOxNboHrAM0bx5GMpBKOaMIXd9kxIosU95JydMyIoHl7adb-KugNRFaZm8ZInSk/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+132.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixFzDd7cBnYK-PeSZaaT0H9wvwXqN-9JQd_xw1s3Jij8hyphenhyphenkcf_BBwvWydteopAIBWJwdsJZQOUC1EzMOxNboHrAM0bx5GMpBKOaMIXd9kxIosU95JydMyIoHl7adb-KugNRFaZm8ZInSk/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+132.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then front row seats...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlmld1LdOuFqUPIVAU5qJxC8xbbqwlmfsDK4L0_iwnuO1x7buy0W7HhCjUvuO7c5rs_qdCPmEH5smagX4rzfqpivJIFzq8_RWIGUqsimdkHL8kXUmjqLRaob1mOzwTjFK2xgWLFQuDak/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPlmld1LdOuFqUPIVAU5qJxC8xbbqwlmfsDK4L0_iwnuO1x7buy0W7HhCjUvuO7c5rs_qdCPmEH5smagX4rzfqpivJIFzq8_RWIGUqsimdkHL8kXUmjqLRaob1mOzwTjFK2xgWLFQuDak/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+018.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ken and the boys (as well as others) jammed with some Whitehorse musicians that had been brought out to do a concert. Will is playing the ukulele and I mean playing! He's learned a number of chords already and plays Izzy's version of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" really well. In fact during the jam session he was yelling out the chords to the others so they could follow along. Jay's playing uke too (also really well!) but was playing djembe that day and the musicians had a blast backing him up with his groovy beat!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzfrmZmg8uqXHyMMXTfAdN0bV9uKny5oWdleuFjpn_IHMzZGj8k-lwxIhZ6ScS9NVuvf2RbmnHF2cjoHoGCcE9Px5zjcBZF-vB_C0EnrbutHyRK93a20h7U-D6EGfE4uwF-4ly8Y-3E0/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQzfrmZmg8uqXHyMMXTfAdN0bV9uKny5oWdleuFjpn_IHMzZGj8k-lwxIhZ6ScS9NVuvf2RbmnHF2cjoHoGCcE9Px5zjcBZF-vB_C0EnrbutHyRK93a20h7U-D6EGfE4uwF-4ly8Y-3E0/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+137.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jay and his fiddle with his banjo playing bud, Remy...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizyQTkikOnODM2gAWQHt_WUe5C00lGNpmuozClmsYxsWg0hLt9NepsrpA79SiJKLQozJAOnx1X03z4LN_OPhUYXImiNGDx8k7K2YoO2lTGdAcKfJwiFCK8j59nLfzfNAIVWCqttSPnWBQ/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizyQTkikOnODM2gAWQHt_WUe5C00lGNpmuozClmsYxsWg0hLt9NepsrpA79SiJKLQozJAOnx1X03z4LN_OPhUYXImiNGDx8k7K2YoO2lTGdAcKfJwiFCK8j59nLfzfNAIVWCqttSPnWBQ/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+092.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">But for me the best part of the day was when everyone got to go DOG SLEDDING! A wonderful couple here in the Junction that has sledding dogs was out there to give people rides. Sean and Heather are "oh-so-nice" and tirelessly took person after person out.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM_L4yP5jlzCEX83vcJXyhM1xD7ysXX7a2D1mD5nHp2hK2EbnhlKkIvOPuuZTLQK8t_kmpK9uCFPi91UpVP8inxGl0ztDOqlp9jSthYo6QX808o0lbYcS6y4lPq9wErVOILWpiVcSlj8/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxM_L4yP5jlzCEX83vcJXyhM1xD7ysXX7a2D1mD5nHp2hK2EbnhlKkIvOPuuZTLQK8t_kmpK9uCFPi91UpVP8inxGl0ztDOqlp9jSthYo6QX808o0lbYcS6y4lPq9wErVOILWpiVcSlj8/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+003.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">What a blast! Each of the kids got to go as well as Ken. I was happy as a clam to watch and to be very honest wasn't going to inflict myself on those dogs! But Heather (an angel with a hearty laugh and a winsome manner) looked over at me and let me know that I WOULD be going and assured me the dogs would be FINE. And so I went...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL7xPBmjCjpFzbjaMeZQwqFLmpM9_VjzdN3EDDL0DUsuQ168iLaQoDOF1clF6XOyq9oTlAP6jTs07VafEpnJr3WAWghDPcFkhyphenhyphenBEVt0GpdKajjFkEIdC5CM7niXGnCcJ5rSKrRw7rLJY/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL7xPBmjCjpFzbjaMeZQwqFLmpM9_VjzdN3EDDL0DUsuQ168iLaQoDOF1clF6XOyq9oTlAP6jTs07VafEpnJr3WAWghDPcFkhyphenhyphenBEVt0GpdKajjFkEIdC5CM7niXGnCcJ5rSKrRw7rLJY/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+083.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Can you see the stupid grin on my face?!? And then my favorite photo...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BiOigUN70H18rJKbUQgy1n0kJsQsTvK7P-4RB3OviwSWq7grL5LVjv0bBUYLc4d2aiMRw0sdIQCkj5hTo9lWK7dfn5BMQAW6ixnkoCNTCKhNfJfwu_Yu06pSirQaY35HTsYOuu3X-i4/s1600/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BiOigUN70H18rJKbUQgy1n0kJsQsTvK7P-4RB3OviwSWq7grL5LVjv0bBUYLc4d2aiMRw0sdIQCkj5hTo9lWK7dfn5BMQAW6ixnkoCNTCKhNfJfwu_Yu06pSirQaY35HTsYOuu3X-i4/s320/Kathleen+Lake+Parks+Canada+Day+108.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Simply can't tell you how thrilling it was. So serene, so quiet, so beautiful. Magical.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And I'm so grateful. So grateful for Heather who saw my insecurity without me saying a thing and reassured me and gave me the gift of a new and wonderful experience. A precious gift she has and gave.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jesus,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I continue to be astounded by the beauty of your creation around me. In nature and in people. You are brilliant!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">'til next time, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Dianna</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Diannahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16002764763678738457noreply@blogger.com8