I got my hair cut this week. It is more in the neighbourhood of a pixie cut than the last few cuts were. In fact, it means that my hair is the shortest it has been in the couple years.
It is strange how naked and exposed my face feels now. There is absolutely nothing on or remotely covering my face anymore and I feel like all my features – good and bad – stand out even more. I love how quick and easy my hair is to do in the morning and how light my hair feels. It is great!
One of the reasons I no longer (well, rarely) walk around with headphones in is because I like to be open to interact with the people around me. [If I have my headphones in, it is likely because (a) I’m listening to a really good program on cbc radio or (b) I don’t want to talk to anyone so leave me alone.]
Last Thursday was one of those days when I was glad I had the headphones out. I’ve been knitting regularly for about 8 months – my Oma tried to show me how to knit when I was eight or nine but it didn’t stick. I actually gave up after about two inches of a scarf for my teddy bear. I re-learnt 17 years later when a long Pacific crossing from Japan to Hawaii forced me to learn a hobby or go crazy from boredom and cabin fever.
All of that is to say that knitting doesn’t seem unusual to me. I knit. A number of my friends knit. Sometimes we all get together and knit together. However, sometimes I discover that I am more unusual than I had thought.
Last Thursday I was sitting, and knitting, at Swartz Bay, waiting to board the 11am to Tsawwassen when an elderly gentleman sat down next to me. With a thick European accent he commented on my knitting. He was so happy to see me knitting, he said, leaning towards me with joy in his face.
It has been a long time since I have seen a young woman knitting.
I immediately thought back to Oma and her generation. So many of them knit and made clothes for their entire families. It must have been a common practice. I could see the elderly gentleman being transported back in time to his youth at this memory.
He then asked me when I had learnt. I explained that I had only seriously been knitting for less than a year, but that my Oma had first taught me when I was a child. At the mention of “Oma” he perked up once again.
Oma… you are from where? My family is from The Netherlands, near The Hague. Ah, Holland. I am from North Friesland, near the Danish border.
With that, he launched into a story of his activity during the Second World War. It was an interesting conversation: part recollections, part justifications, and part desire to pass on his story to another generation. He told me of sailing through the North Sea, watching out for Allied ships. He told of occupying the Netherlands but bringing food to the young families starving in the villages he and the army (he never actually said it was the German army) occupied. He spoke of his fear of being shot at by resistance groups and later Allied forces as they liberated the countryside… he didn’t like the word “liberated” as he felt he and his companions had looked after the villages in their charge. As he told his story, I continued to knit.
This exchange was perhaps the first I’ve had with a soldier who was on “the other side” during the war. It could have been the young family of my Oma, Opa, Aunt, and Uncle that he was bringing food to while he occupied their village, though I know it wasn’t. This gentleman, probably in his 80’s, shared with me, a complete stranger, some of his challenges during a troubling time. It was like he wanted me to know that those we so often think of as the enemy are not evil: there is humanity on both sides of every conflict.
Then the gates opened and the masses surged onto the ferry. I didn’t see him again but am thankful for the conversation that knitting opened up – to hear a part of his history and his story.
There seems to be so much going on yet writing doesn’t come as easily right now. Perhaps this is a factor of my current fragmented schedule. Perhaps this is because I am no longer spending hours at a time on my computer and have no reminder to write and need no distractions from other writing. Perhaps it is because I am not writing anything write now: no papers, no discussion posts for school, and sometimes not even my journal – I am out of practice. Perhaps it is all of the above. Posts still get partially formulated in my head but by the time I remember to jot them down, they are gone.
I spent two days in Vancouver last week. It actually ended up being only about 40 hours from the time I left my door to the time I walked back in it. My computer was turned off Wednesday night and not turned back on again until Monday morning. After 18 months of non-stop coursework via computer, the ability to do that is wonderfully freeing. [I still check email on my phone and remain connected to the world that way, but there is something wonderful about turning off the computer and not having to be connected that way.]
This weekend I begin another project that will have me spend more time reflecting on spirituality and spending more time on my computer. I am planning a follow up to our successful Holy Week installation at the Cathedral last year. I hope to share my reflections and ideas as I go forward on this and hopefully the writing will get me writing other things as well!
Each year, when springtime rolls around, Tim Horton’s does their “Roll Up The Rim to Win” campaign. People who wouldn’t normally shop at Tim Horton’s suddenly become fans of their coffee. People who go regularly suddenly have the need to drink twice as much coffee. I know this because I work beside a Tim Horton’s and have witnessed the behaviour of the people in the parking lot and of my coworkers (and myself… until last Wednesday when I gave up coffee for Lent).
I’m all for free stuff, I’m part Dutch with a little bit of Scottish after all, but something about this whole campaign sits a little wrongly with me. I think it started with the big signs in each store encouraging us to bring in our travel mugs to save the environment. Then it was witnessing an individual do just that but then receive the empty Roll up the Rim cup on the side so that they would still have a chance a the prize.
Nice mixed messages on environmentalism: consume many more disposable cups daily than usual while encourage people to bring their mugs in only to waste a cup on them anyway. It would be nice if Tim Horton’s could figure out a better way to encourage waste reduction during their prize season. It isn’t like their bottom line is hurting during this campaign.
I ranted. It was suggested I write. I wrote. It was published.
I bought a new bicycle.
I was planning on waiting until after I finished school and had made some money, but things just happened and there is a new bicycle in my life.
The old one is still around, it is sitting in the garage with its flat rear tire. I’ll hang onto it for awhile I think. If I want to do any trail riding (which I don’t ever really do) or if we get another snow like the one a couple of weeks ago, it is pretty invaluable.
Flat rear tire. That is what precipitated the purchase of my new white speedster. Make no mistake, it was not a snap decision (not entirely anyway). I have been checking craigslist for the last few months now, monitoring the prices of road bikes and watching for any great deals, sending off a few questions here and there. Then we had that snow a few weeks ago and I was able to ride the faithful red bike around just hours after the snow had finished and the roads were marginally clear. Last week, I was cycling home from a group counselling session at a local elementary school when the heavens opened and this odd, and freezing cold, combination of large fluffy flakes and big raindrops descended upon me. By the time I got home, the lower half of my body was soaked to the skin. The rain/snow had been so fierce at times that I could not see where I was going. The edges of the road were still (and are still in many places) covered with all of the debris that accumulates after a week of snow. I had no choice but to cycle right through it.
When I got home, I thought nothing of parking my bicycle in the garage and rushing inside to clean up/dry off. The next evening however, when I took my bicycle out, the rear tire was completely flat. By that time, the stores were closed and I no longer had any patches in my patch kit. The tire was going to have to wait until the next day. Problem: the next day, Saturday, was a full day of work followed by company for dinner. There was no time to go downtown, buy a patch kit, and fix the tire before I needed the bicycle on Monday morning. Sunday? you ask. Nope. My local bike shop is closed. Solution: buy a new bicycle.
You may have seen it on Twitter and Facebook: “How to solve the problem of a flat bicycle tire? Buy a new bicycle.” Yes, that is what I did.
I had seen a good-looking bike on craigslist and sent off an inquiry. The owner lived only a few blocks from me, so I went over and checked it out in person. It rode well, shifted well, braked reasonably okay (nothing I can’t improve on), and, best of all, had new tires. I bought it.
Since then I’ve been riding it everywhere. I’ve taken bicycle commuting to a whole new level (for me) and have myself fairly well outfitted now. The most crucial piece I’ve added to the bike: full mudguards.
Faithful red? Well, she still sits in the garage. I made a valiant attempt to fix her rear tire the other day and it ended badly. After spending an inordinate amount of time removing/patching/and replacing the tube and tire, I re-inflated the tire only to hear air hissing out… Apparently I hadn’t found whatever had punctured the tire in the first place and it had re-punctured it. So I still have to remove everything and start all over, but I’m waiting until it gets a little warmer in the garage and I have a little more will-power. The last time was a little bit of a chore and I’m not looking to be swearing over that tire anytime again soon.
Wednesdays are a crazy day in my world, especially yesterday Wednesday.
The cycle downtown from work to choir practice freaked me out yesterday. Four drivers who weren’t looking for bicycles nearly hit me. It is only a 7.5km ride, and it isn’t like I’m an obnoxious rider, yet these drivers managed to nearly hit me. Yes, I go quickly, but I obey traffic rules and try to be visible when I ride: I have multiple front and rear lights, wear a turquoise reflective jacket, have white bicycle and orange backpack. It isn’t like I blend into the road. Sadly though, this wasn’t the first time cars haven’t been paying attention to me and I’ve had near-misses before (weekly?). For a city that prides itself on having one of the highest amounts of bicycle commuters per capita in the country, there are a lot of drivers who are not paying attention to us. I guess that is what made the statement of Ash Wednesday even more poignant: “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return“. We’re all just one event away from that dust.
We got some new choir music in rehearsal last evening. It was new liturgical music for the season of Lent that I’m excited to sing… altos have some wonderful parts and they are all nice and low and minor sounding. One of them, from the Iona Community, asks a simple question: O brother Jesus, where have we left you, Saviour and Lover of all? Where indeed? That line reached out and grabbed me as we sang it.
Lent is probably my favourite season of the church calendar. I like the expectation and anticipation of Advent but often find myself frustrated by the gross commercialism and crazy busy-ness of Christmas that envelops and overwhelms it. Lent on the other hand, often gets overlooked. Aside from pancakes on Shrove Tuesday and the constant question, “What are you giving up for Lent?”, the beginning of this season often goes unnoticed.
Which brings me back to our Lenten liturgical music: O brother Jesus, where have we left you? Am I giving something up for Lent? I am not sure yet. I’ll allow myself until the weekend to decide. On the other hand, I would much rather that I find Jesus during Lent. Find Jesus. Find God’s heart for the lost and poor and marginalized.
In closing, another song for this Sunday (also Iona Community):
Sent by the Lord am I; my hands are ready now to make the earth the place in which the kingdom comes. The angels cannot change a world of hurt and pain into a world of love, of justice and of peace. The task is mine to do, to set it really free. Oh, help me to obey; help me to do your will.
I sit on the bus and see heads bowed over smartphones and iPods. People type away as they walk down the street. Goodness knows I am guilty of it.
Have we replaced our coming together in person for coming together through technology? Do we look at the latest gadgets to save us rather than the One who sacrificed self?
I’ve been reading this poem over and over since it first appeared in my book last week.
Small screen communion
iPod, phone
held close
and thumbed,
illuminating so dimly
the lichened branches
fingering the above,
are such small lights
on these paths
at night.
What possible guidance
could they offer?
Yet still
I look,
still we look
so intently
at their ever-decreasing thinness
and ask of them
the same
as wafers
once gave.
From Other by Kester Brewin.
We kind of had a lot of snow yesterday (enough that Victoria and snow were Jian’s opening essay on Q this morning). I ended up walking to work where about six of our staff of over 20 made it in for staff meeting. Of fully booked schedules for the doctors, about six patients showed up. I went home early.
I don’t remember having seen that much snow all from the sky here for that long of a period of time (virtually all day from 5:30 onward) in a long while. With the snow, it has gotten cold, cold by Victoria in February standards. It is well below zero outside at the moment and the snow shows no sign of leaving any time soon.
Consequently, I stayed home today. So far, I have gone up and down between floors, made bread, caught up with the computer work I’ve been avoiding for a few days, did some knitting, and contemplated doing some research for my clients. I am still in my pjs. Did I mention it is half past noon? Snow days are a glorious thing and since we get so few of them on the South Island, I am milking it for all it is worth.
That isn’t to say that I am doing nothing! Last night I cycled across town to meet a friend for dinner. She is visiting from out of town on a work trip and it was easiest if I made my way to her. The roads looked alright (and the main roads were fine) so I headed out on my bicycle. It would have taken me easily three times as long on the bus.
This afternoon, I again have to cycle across town towards the highway to help out at an after school club at an elementary school. Then I’ll head downtown, again on the bike, to meet friends for our weekly coffee gathering. Then it is the opera this evening. So I’ll be out in the cold soon enough. Until then, I’m enjoying the warmth of tea and a fireplace from the comfort of my couch.
Without breaking my “don’t talk about work on the blog” rule, I feel that I can say that this week is going to be a busy one. I have more appointments this week than I’ve had any other so far and most of them are concentrated onto two days. It is good to be busy but I’m also hoping that it doesn’t drain me too much. I’m leaning a lot about making sure I get enough sleep!
It was a good weekend though. My roommate had a birthday on the weekend and her boyfriend and I managed to get a whole bunch of her friends over for a surprise board game night. I got home from work and had to wait until she left the house for a soccer game before I could make cupcakes in order to have them ready 2 hours later! I now know that putting them in the freezer for about 10 minutes after baking cools them sufficiently to ice. Nut/Dairy-free (as they need to be in our house) Chocolate cupcakes with caramel icing!
(iPhone photo with a new app I’m playing with)
gillian's island 