ENGLAND: First Day in the Bonny Auld Country

To use a bit of countrified lingo: them confounded dates! Everything looks good; we're doing a Mother's Day post, and we hit Publish, and it comes up on the screen--wham! Deception uncovered. The heading reads, "Saturday, July 3, 2010. Mother's Day Photos."

It doesn't take much for the average person to be able to sleuth it out: we are not avid, intense bloggers.

But then, we're busy doing more important things. Like touring England, as of 9:00 this morning! So, will do my best to keep our blog followers--all three of you--updated on our daily scrapes and adventures.

Roight, then: no time like the present.

Departed out of Toronto airport around 9:30 Canadian time. It was a rawther restless flight, on account of trying to sleep most of the trip, and failing utterly. It didn't help that Sarah and I were struggling to overcome rotten-timed colds. But all things--good and bad--come to an end sooner or later. We arrived in Manchester airport at 9:00 this morning, without fellow passengers and crew assaulting us on account of my trying to imitate their accents, and more than likely making the attempt sound like a mockery. They sound brill, though.

Auntie Jean and Uncle Mike were a sight for sore eyes. Great to see them again after, what, three years! :) From there, it was a two-hour trip to Driffield on highways much like the Q.E, then through green, rolling countryside.

To BED. Fear we didn't make very good company for Granny and Lisa; crashed for two welcome hours; then woke up a bit brighter and ready to face more relatives dropping in for a visit. A livingroom full of friendly humanity, chocolate biscuits, and English-style humour; great stuff, that.

Broke out for a run through the village later in the evening. Aaaah ... how can I possibly describe the utter bliss of running down a rough track in the brisk evening air ... feeling a slight mist as cars drive past in the puddles ... flushing out a flock of birds in a nearby field, and hearing their wings rustle ... seeing the faint brushes of red sunset light in the sky, and chatting personally with the Artist? I can't. You should've been there.

Wish ya were,
Jenn

Mother's Day Photos

This Mother's Day, Jenn and I were wracking our brains for something Mom would really like. In the past we've ranged from the practical - a can opener, watering can and plant food - to the guilt-ridden - chocolate. So, this year we decided Mom had way too many plants and cooking utensils and had indulged in choc enough for a while... so we thought we'd update something she'd have to dust! :)

We had these taken on one of the last days of our spring special meetings with Dwight Smith and his family. Our church is on a lovely property with a creek at the bottom and great places for pictures.

Thanks to our willing photographer, Charity!

Ever read the funny sign jokes that people make up? For example:



(Sign in a non-smoking area) "If we see you smoking, we will assume you are on fire and take the appropriate actions."



(Sign in a school zone) "Please do not speed. You might hit a child." Underneath, a student had scrawled, "Wait for a teacher."



Here are two around work that are making me nervous:



(Near a cartload of dying primroses) "All staff free to good home."



(At the store entrance) "Twenty-five percent off every living thing." And they only thought to add, "Puppy excluded." (!)



Too tired to come up with anything intelligent,



Jenn

New Job!

It's been pretty quiet on here for a while, but I think I finally have a good excuse this time....

Both Jenn and I have been working at a local greenhouse. At the beginning, I started by planting literally thousands of baby impatians, then I moved on to spacing plants and trimming them, and now I mostly keep the store stocked. Jenn also spaces plants, helps to stock the store on busy days, and deadheads plants.

The LORD has been so good to us in that we never have to miss our normal church services. From the beginning, I had made up my mind that if I had to work Sundays, then I wouldn' t take the job. However the bosses have been respectful of our personal convictions and are also great about when I need to take time off to drive Dad to Toronto.

All in all, I love working at Ditsch's Greenhouses. I realize that the LORD has given Jenn and I another place to shine for Him. Even though we don't feel like we get a chance to witness to many people, most everyone knows where we live, so our lives reflect back on the Scripture signs on our shed. Also, just the other day, I got a chance to tell a fellow worker that I would be praying for her and she responded positively. We usually like to see big results, but I have to keep reminding myself that maybe I'm just the person who sows or waters a seed in someones life. "It is God that gives the increase." Thank You, LORD.

"We don't always get the chance to say goodbye,

So don't ever miss a chance to say 'I love you.'"

--(song I heard on the way)

How many times has it happened? As I headed out the door, I said, "See ya later!" ... and never imagined that it would be the last time I would ever see that person again. There are things left undone, things left unsaid, dreams left dangling and unreached.

But we can't dwell on the past. Wishing for a time-rewinder doesn't invent one. Too many times I've caught myself trying to relive a special memory, but I cannot recreate memories. Special things happen every day, but today's special thing will not be like yesterday's.

This is turning out to be a weird Mum's Day Post ...

Maybe Jim Eliot can help me out here. He said, "Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."

Make the most of every visit, every moment, every smile, every sunset, every hug, every sweet word.

Especially this coming Mother's Day.

Speaking of which, I love you, Mum. XOXO

Jenn

Ordinary Work Day ... NOT.

It was supposed to be an ordinary work-day for Sarah. Subbing a route at the post office one town over from us--how complicated could it be? There was only one issue: yours truly was her most humble driver. Or would that be "humbling"?

Maybe I forgot that the slot numbers were ABOVE the slots (not below) at least fifty times; and maybe I was responsible for hitting, oh, perhaps five mailboxes; and maybe I nearly raced by a third of the mailboxes on the route.

Still, I wasn't the one who flipped one mailbox flag up so hard that it arced magnificently over the van onto the road. Or got the key stuck in one group box.

Well, we're in this together, right sis? And what's life without a little excitement?

Here we go at the death-defying speed of
35 kms/hr.

Why don't mailbox designers win awards?
They're lucky if they get their photo printed in a magazine.

Maybe the spiders sent out a complaint about the poor ventilation.

Rawther opinionated, some folks.

Mail-carrier's reply:
"I would, if the slightest push didn't put your mailbox in mortal danger of falling over."

A much classier means of delivering mail, methinks.

Don't ever attempt to take a picture when you're driving up a hill while attempting to steer, and keep an eye on the camera screen, and the view in front, and the rear- and side-mirrors, when unknown vehicles going as fast as you are could be trundling up the other side--

well, just don't do it.

It simply defines unique.

Would you look at this? The construction crew actually swerved the road a bit while paving so the mailcarriers wouldn't have to drive in a rut. Good ol' small-town courtesy for youse.

And this striking contrast is the official but very much so recognized (especially when you're driving into it) dividing line between our town and the neighbouring town.

Just think of every bone-jarring, teeth-rattling jolt as the potholes' unique way of conveying the heart-warming message: "Welcome to our town, folks!"

Outhouses built especially for desperate mail-carriers.

(Maybe.)

Originality-award-worthy: not everyone uses a paint-scraper for a mailbox flag.

Had to stop and admire this neat little stream a recent rain had created.

Through sleet and snow and rain and fog the mailcarriers press on. Down mud roads like this? Forget it.

Think we're in farming country?

How's that for a day-brightener? :D

The mayor's residence. If you look closely, you'll observe that he has his own personal landfill site (ritzy, eh?). And a moat. Complete with piranhas.

(Maybe.)

A taste of the "auld country"!

Rural group mailboxes.

(Maybe.)

My dream house.

Aha! Mighty Duct tape inevitably had to show itself somewhere. And isn't that a creative little train? Fitting, since the tracks are a stone's throw away.

Trying to scare away junk mail?

Hope youse are laughing as hard as I am after all this nonsense. :D)))

Jenn

Man Alive, He's 55!

On April 10, 1955, a significant event happened in Dad's life: he was born. Consequently, it changed his and his family's lives. Fifty-five years later, he's still changing lives. Can't imagine what the world would be like without his fun, English sense of humour, his hardworking, determined ways, and his social butterflyness.

Yeah, Dad most definitely is a social butterfly. There's hardly a street in Fort Erie and beyond he can't drive down without commenting, "Who's-it there, still living in that house," or "Did her steps a coupla years back." It's great fun going to the coffee shop with him at odd times, where at least five people will park at our table to say hello, and he yells a greeting to every other person who walks in the door. Not to mention going to the lumber store, where he's bound to holler, "Hey, get to work over there!" or "Look who you see when you ain't got a gun." (Meanwhile, I smile and pretend I've known the folks for years, and afterwards nudge Dad and whisper, " Who in the world were they?")

I heard this joke, and it reminded me of Dad all over. One day Bubba was bragging in the office about how many people he knew. His boss came in and said, "Bubba, I'm tired of you talking about many people you know." Bubba said, "But it's true, Boss; I know everybody." His boss said, "Right. I have a business trip to Italy this week. You can come with me, and you can introduce me to the Pope." Bubba said, "Sounds good." Later that week, as they were standing in Vatican courtyard, Bubba said, "Wait here," and left his Boss in the courtyard while he went inside. His boss waited for the longest time, and Bubba didn't show. Then a man next to him nudged his side, and said, "Hey, do you know who that is up there with Bubba?"

One more of my strange ways of saying, "Luvs u, Dad."

Gratefully,

Jenn

Here's Dad, ready to blow out the candles on his favourite type of cake, chocolate orange. A couple invited us over for a special birthday supper they whipped up in his honour. The cake was--ahh, amazing. :)

(If we're going to be accurate, Dad is 54 years, 364.18 days old in this picture.)

Only took one try... but we'll be nice about that--

won't we, Auntie Jean? ;).

Good pic of Muv and Dad.