Most people probably don't realize the incredible effect Pachelbel's Canon in D has had on music over the years--other than the fact that it is still played at almost every wedding. (I think I even had it at mine!) Prepare to be enlightened:

Also, check out these guys for an amazing and fun guitar version.

Also, for you parents with young kids, you'll appreciate this.

Happy Friday!

There are days when everything seems to go wrong. But fortunately, these are not very frequent. Most days, the "stuff that goes wrong" is peppered lightly through events of "really good stuff." On those days, the "stuff that goes wrong" is also known as "stuff that makes good stories to tell later."

For instance, one of Jabin's favourite tricks of late has been to put the end of the toilet paper in the toilet and flush. Repeatedly. So when I heard the sound of water running through the pipes while using the washroom myself this morning, I suspected that this is the activity I would find Jabin engaged in when I got out.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Since we are still renovating our "main bath", aka "the kids' bathroom," we have been giving the boys their baths in the only other bathtub in the house, which happens to be in our master bathroom. We keep their bath toys in a little mesh bag next to the toilet, for lack of a better place to store them. Well, apparently, in lieu of an actual bathtub full of water, the toilet is the next-best place to play with your bath toys.

(I wish I hadn't felt the urge to correct the little goober quite so instantaneously--had I had the presence of mind to grab the camera, that would have been a great one for the scrapbook!)

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While we were out getting groceries this afternoon, one of the store's employees was just putting out the Halloween costumes. While we don't "do" Halloween, this is a fantastic time of year to stock up on dress-up costumes fairly inexpensively--especially ones for boys. So, I let Jude and Noah each pick some "weapon sets" from a rack on the wall which were going cheap. Noah chose a knight's sword and arm guard set, and Jude chose a bow and arrow set.

As soon as we got home, Noah and Jabin both needed naps. So Jude and I headed out to the back yard and had a mini-archery lesson. Don't raise your eyebrows at me. I'm not completely ignorant on the subject--my dad hand-made a bow and arrow each for my brother and me as kids, and then I actually took archery as a class one year at teen camp. I definitely had enough knowledge to get a four-and-a-half-year-old started on the basics--especially considering the suction-cup arrows and elastic-drawstring-cord "string" on the bow. He's got about as much knowledge now as will do him good, considering his equipment.

If he's still interested in the subject in a few years, we'll fork out for the real stuff--and some professional lessons.

--------------------

It struck me today that in one week's time, I will be the mother of a kindergartner. In a panic, I thought "I can't have a kid in school if I don't make some cookies!" There just seems to be something about being able to take some cookies in your lunch, or having some as a snack when you get home from school, that goes hand-in-hand with the very ritual of being in school, doesn't there? Am I alone on this?

Since our diet includes much fewer baked goods than it used to, I haven't ferreted out very many cookie recipes that fall within the guidelines we try to stay in. I will occasionally let the boys get an oatmeal-raisin cookie from Tim Horton's for a special treat, but rarely make up a batch of 3-4 dozen of the sugary temptations for us to glut ourselves on for a few days at home. However, I thought today I had better start practicing for having my biggest little man in school. And, lo and behold, I dug a treasure out of the recipe binder that, with a very minor modification, was perfect! Not too sugary, not too flour-y, and only a modest-sized batch. Plus, it is made mostly from yummy, good-for-you coconut!

So, now all I need to do is wait another year until Jude is actually going to be in school over lunchtime to make it! :-) (Just kidding.)

Coconut Macaroons
Makes: about 2 dozen

1/3 cup whole wheat (or unbleached all-purpose) flour
2 1/2 cups unsweetened flaked or shredded coconut
1/8 tsp. ground sea salt
1 tbsp. maple syrup, plus enough whipping cream to make 2/3 cup
1 tsp. vanilla extract (sugar-free is best)

In a bowl, combine flour, coconut and salt. Add maple syrup and cream mixture and vanilla; mix well. (Batter will be stiff.) Drop by tablespoonfuls (I use a small scoop from Pampered Chef--a melon baller would also work) 1" apart on a greased baking sheet, or an ungreased well-seasoned stoneware pan (my recommendation). Bake at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove to a wire rack to cool.

Alternatives: This cookie would be wonderful raw, as my taste-testing proved to me. To make it stick better, I would melt a little extra-virgin coconut oil or butter, (say, 2 tbsp.) until barely liquefied, mix it in at the very end, then chill the cookies once you have put them on the sheet. (If you make the raw version, you will probably want to store them in a sealed container in the refrigerator, as well. Not so much the send-it-in-your-lunch type of cookie.)

Things that could be added to this cookie, whether baked or raw:

• sunflower seeds
• chocolate chips
• pumpkin seeds
• flax seeds
• sprouted grains, such as spelt or barley

At this point, you might want to start thinking of it more like a bite-sized granola bar!

Let me know if you try any of these variations, and I will also update this post as I try them to let you know the results!

And, after all these things I've posted about today (but most especially the cookies!), I can most definitely say It's all good!

This cartoon came from NaturalNews.com. (Click on it to see it larger.)


When I have more time, I will post the results of my own microwaved-food experiment that I did this spring.

Happy Wednesday, friends!

Brutus has been taking lessons in escapism from Suri. He disappeared Friday, and didn't come back.

Well, not on his own, anyway. Yesterday, on the way home from the S.P.C.A., Jude was so sweet. In comforting tones, he patted Brutus on the head and said, "Did you miss your friend? Are you all right? Suri missed you!"

I'm sure if my wallet still hadn't been smarting so much, I would have appreciated that a lot more.

I admit it. I have been having an extended engagement with Jane Austen, which has prevented me from having any desire to post to my blog this week. Okay, there has been a small amount of desire, but not enough to get me to put down Mansfield Park long enough to do it! However, I have put it down long enough to scrapbook a few pages this week. Here is one I did last night that I am particularly happy with. (Click to see more detail.)
(I just wish I could claim actual credit for the idea, instead of owning that I completely scraplifted this page from a Lisa Bearnson layout in Creating Keepsakes magazine.) The kids pictured with mine belong to my dear friend Dawn.

Earlier in the week, I was pleased to see an article on the Newstarget site about the good and bad kinds of milk. In the past, I have been disappointed that Mike Adams has dismissed cow's milk carte blanche, instead of differentiating between what should and shouldn't be consumed, milk-wise. Well, it looks like the man has been educated, and other than his still very pro-vegetarian stance, I think he's pretty on-track as far as what is healthy to put into your body. For the low-down on processed & raw cow's milk, soy milk, and almond milk, please see the article.

Also, if you would like to skip--or at least minimize--the effects of "cold and flu season," which many just take for granted, please check out this page on Dr. Mercola's website for an education on the benefits of a good probiotic supplement. If you have no really comprehensive probiotic available locally, you can purchase his probiotic, but if you are not on one already, I highly recommend that you get on one, NOW! I've been consuming a very potent probiotic 2-3 times a day as part of the body-repairing regimen I have been on since April, and have seen a drastic decrease in the amount of yeast in my blood, an increase in energy, and have had only one cold in that time. (This is good, considering that my body was, in times past, so run-down as to be getting a cold fairly frequently, and to almost always have a runny nose.) I find my kids are much more resistant to the neighbourhood germs when I have them regularly (a few times a week) taking an infant acidopholus supplement, as well as taking Cod Liver Oil daily, especially in the winter. I highly recommend the Garden of Life brand of Cod Liver Oil--the taste is only mildly fishy, as compared to the green toxic goo many cod liver oils seem to resemble. My kids actually ask for it! Getting your kids to regularly consume kefir or live-culture yogurt (minus the sugar!) made from whole milk is another good way to keep those positive intestinal flora thriving.

Anyhoo, in addition to these basic precautions as the "back-to-school" germ-exchange-fest comes on, you may want to consider using Oil of Oregano or Young Living's Thieves blend in a diffuser in your home to minimize air-borne bacteria, viruses, and fungi. While it is good to be exposed to a small amount of that, to keep your immune system up, those of us in northern climes too often find our immune systems not running under optimal conditions as the days get shorter and we spend more time inside, out of direct sunlight.

That's all for now, friends! I hear my craft table calling me. (I am glutting myself on reading and scrapping right now, because I know in two weeks my leisure time will be a rare thing, indeed.)

Hugs to you all!

I have never been one of those girls that gets obsessed with superstars.

While my friends were drooling over the posters of Christian Slater, Lou Diamond Phillips, and Val Kilmer in their lockers, I was rolling my eyes and saying "Whatever!" under my breath, while I slammed my own locker door on my own hand-drawn poster of a character from a book I had read.

However, I have been known to get obsessed with stories. Frequently.

I love reading, and always have. I also love watching movies, because for the last few years, I have found the leisure time I used to spend reading increasingly diminished by my other responsibilities and hobbies, but still felt the need to consume stories. This year has seen me picking up books again more, and it's a pleasure I had forgotten how much I loved.

The first story I became obsessed with was Black Beauty, which I received for my ninth birthday, I think it was. Over the next few years, I read the paperback so many times that pages were broken away from the binding and sitting loosely in the book. I actually re-purchased the book as an adult so my library of children's books would still contain it.

Then, at twelve, it was Walt Disney's The Little Mermaid. I watched it every day for at least six months, sometimes more than once in a twenty-four hour span. My parents tolerated this fairly well, but I think I understand my father's subsequent aversion to all things animated. Especially since, as an adult, I am fairly amazed by the shallowness of every main character in the story.

Other stories followed, with differing degrees of obsession, but here are the ones that grabbed hold of me the most: the off-Broadway Canadian tour of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera in 1992; The Princess Bride in both book and movie form; Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves; Braveheart and Gladiator in movie form (although the book for Braveheart is excellent--I highly recommend it); Moulin Rouge; and more than it would be polite to continue listing. Hmm, do we notice any commonalities here? *ticks each off on fingers* Love story, love story, love story, and, uh...yep, all love stories. I'm such a girl.

This week has been marked by a new obsession: Pride and Prejudice.

I had read the novel when I was nursing Jude, using it to keep me awake while I was up with him at night so I didn't just fall asleep in my chair with him on the breast and wake up two hours later with him ready to feed again. (You moms who are nursing or have nursed a baby know what I'm talking about.) I loved the book then, and had long desired to re-read it, but there were just too many other books on my "to read" list to justify reading something I had previously enjoyed.

I loved the book so much that I was hesitant to watch the movie. Does this happen to anyone else? I was nervous that the movie would not do the book justice, and thereby ruin both for me. I even rented the Colin Firth version once, but "ran out of time" to watch it before it needed to be returned. Ahem.

Well, last Sunday night I watched the 2005 version starring Keira Knightly and Matthew Macfadyen. And fell in love.

I immediately began to re-read the book, and watched the movie a second time on Thursday before it was due back at the video store. (I seldom watch a movie twice in the same week, so that must tell you something of how much I enjoyed it.)

I just find it amazing that in a world where every interaction seems so steeped in protocol and etiquette, and barely a private thought is expressed publicly, that two such people as Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam (!) Darcy could fall in love. Also, in spite of the fact that the Bennets are considered a bit "low" because of a poor yearly income, among other things, it still seems a bit like reading a fairy tale without the crowns and tiaras since the main characters are obviously upper-class enough to not spend their days cleaning and cooking. Instead, their time is chiefly spent in walking to the village, gossiping, reading, doing needlework, and visiting with friends and family.

I wish my life were more like a Jane Austen novel sometimes. Then I could use words like "amiable" in everyday conversation. However, since it is not, I must content myself with using them in my blog posts. Since I intend to read several other Austen novels in succession after finishing P&P, expect the language of my blog to be influenced for a few more weeks to come.

Oh. And even though I may not get obsessed with superstars, that still did not stop me from thoroughly enjoying the Josh Groban concert I attended in Edmonton on Tuesday, or appreciating that he has rather fine features when he walked within two feet of me on his "I'm here so you can love me" walk through the crowd. (I'm sure he would have asked me up on stage to sing with him, if he'd only seen me standing there. Hee!)

How was your week, friends?

I turned thirty on Friday.

Some of you may remember that twenty-nine was a bit of a traumatic milestone for me. Well, I am happy to report that there was none of that self-pitying nonsense going on this year. No, sir-ee! As a matter of fact, thanks to Facebook and it's handy little birthday reminders, I've never felt so popular on a birthday in my life! (I used to feel ripped off that my birthday was during summer holidays so none of my friends ever remembered when it was. Okay, so that was when I was eight. Usually I don't carry things around with me that long. Hmm, maybe that's something I need to work on...)

Seriously, thank you to those of you who showered me with e-mails, birthday songs (both the sung and typed versions--I especially loved how the same notes got held overly-long with the typed version, so I could just hear it. The person who did it knows to whom I am referring, and I just want to say I loved it!), messages on my Facebook "wall", and presents! yes, presents! both virtual and real, and real, hold-in-my-hand-type cards! too. (Which all arrived on time, for those of you who may be wondering.) I even got a call from India on Friday morning. From a cell phone. I thought the connection was bad on land lines to there. Really, I had no idea how bad it could be. But the thought was appreciated none-the-less. (Can't imagine what that phone bill will look like, though. Eep.)

So, if at twenty-nine I thought I was looking forward to my last year of frivolity-with-excuse, I certainly did not pull a "Joe vs. The Vulcano" and change my life around. However, there were some significant shifts in my attitude this year that, though subtle, I would like to take the opportunity to record.

Firstly, I was quite shocked to discover, right before Christmas, that what I had always thought to be extremely-straight-hair with just enough body to be annoying was actually--with the right combination of products and styling--wavy! Oh joy, oh bliss! Perhaps I read too many period romance novels as a child, but I had always longed for the curls that my favourite heroines seemed to possess, and in fact spent many hours with curling irons, rags, and chemical treatments in my hair trying to achieve that very thing. Now, at the age of twenty-nine-and-a-half, I discovered that while I may not have ringlets, my hair did not altogether lack the qualities I had dreamed it would manifest for my entire live-long life. It's quite a shock to realize you've lived that long and overlooked something that basic about your own appearance.

I realize that this particular revelation probably does seem quite frivolous. However, it also helped to contribute to something else that I experienced in the past year, which is a deepening comfort with myself. This included physical, spiritual, and emotional aspects.

I have mentioned only in passing before that in March of 2006, I was hit by an all-over outbreak of psoriasis triggered by strep throat. Although I had not really thought myself vain about my body, the extreme shame I felt when my body was covered in red welts and silver scales from the scalp of my head to the tips of my toes was like nothing I have ever experienced before. It was a hugely contributing factor to the depression that plagued me for most of last summer and into the fall. I dressed in long pants, long shirts and jeans for most of the summer, actually wearing scarves even on very warm days to hide my neck. I did not even let Jason see me naked for most of that time. He was amazing during the entire thing, telling me that he didn't love me because of how I looked but who I was, and all manner of other things he should say, but it was something inside of me that the Lord had to deal with through this.

I think it helped me come to a point where my self-worth is not tied to how I look, at least not as much as it used to be. Yes, I want to look good for my husband, but I do not need to have that approval from people of my outward appearance to know that I am of value in this world. It got to the point where it didn't matter very much what I looked like anymore. Jason showed me the most amazing love through it all, and it strengthened our relationship so much because of that. It also gave me even more compassion than I used to have for people who get stared at because there is something slightly different about them. Whether people are actually staring at you or not, it only matters that you think they are. Anyway, that's another blog post.

So, through all this, I became more comfortable with my body, my hair, and the Lord was dealing with me on the inside. I read the book Captivating, by John and Stasi Elderidge. I could barely get through a paragraph without breaking into tears, because it was talking right to me, right to where I was right then. That book was instrumental in an attitude shift towards myself, and also to women everywhere, of all kinds. I finally started to see the value that God puts in me as a woman, and why He made me the way He did--and not only that, why He made every woman the way He did. How we all share some common longings and desires that are actually reflections of His character--a God who wants to be romanced, to be pursued, to be loved. A God who wants to unveil beauty to us. Don't we, as women (speaking to the girls, now), all share these longings? Yet, as products of the curse on Eve, don't we all carry with us an intense loneliness, even when our earthly relationships are very, very good? How could I know that I was not alone in this?! Yet, this is not how our loving Father wants us to live our life. He knows our desire to be part of an adventure, because He made us that way. He made us to be Captivating, like He wants to captivate us.

Now, when I look at women, no matter what they seem to be on the outside, whether friendly or thorny, pretty or ugly, organized or sloppy, I ask myself what they are showing me about the character of God--and see the beauty that He put inside each of them. For even though it may be distorted by life and circumstances, God put a beauty in each one of us that He longs to help us unveil. Even me. And I don't need to be ashamed of my longing for it anymore.

I have shared bits of my spiritual growth on this blog as they have occurred. There is really too much for me to go into in this post, especially considering its already endurance-testing length. However, God has been helping me to shed my fear of people, and what they might think of me for doing what He has called me to do. He has been teaching me, as ever, to trust in Him and wait on His timing. And that, when it comes to living a life of adventure in Him, "blind faith" is actually the safest place to be. (What a lesson for my security-hungering-soul to learn. I have a feeling I may have to revisit that one a few times.)

Now, as I look out on a whole new decade, it is actually a feeling of excitement and anticipation that permeates me. My twenties saw some pretty amazing things happen in my life, and some drastic changes. What could be in store during my thirties? Where will the next step in this adventure lead?

Recently, while catching up with an old acquaintance on Facebook, he asked me if I had "found my path in life." My response was this:

"'Found my path in life?'... Interesting question.

"I am happy with the path I am on right now--yes, I am married, since 2000, and have three little boys aged 4 1/2, 3 1/2 and 21 months--but that does not mean my other dreams are dead in the water. I will be thirty on Friday. That means I have roughly another 70-90 years to work on that other stuff."

I don't really know where this road may be going. But I can hardly wait to find out!

"That the number of hours your children will arise earlier than normal is directly proportional to the number of hours you stayed up later than normal whilst in pursuit of your own pleasures and interests."

It just keeps getting proved to me, over and over again. It seems so incontrovertible, I decided to finally write it into words.

Now it's in type. It must be true.

...besides scrapbooking, I mean. :-)



I took a whack of photos today so I could make this layout. It was inspired by something I saw on Ali Edward's blog a few days ago. Here are a few other layouts I've done today and yesterday. These are only the digital ones. I don't feel like fooling around with the scanner and stitching everything together to show you the paper ones. Too time consuming--time I could be using to scrapbook! (Can you tell I'm on a creativity binge?)





What did you do with your Monday, friends?

Besides this layout, I also did one other digital layout, three paper layouts and a card today.

Jason let me have the afternoon off. Isn't he awesome?

Hugs, everyone!

84,000 is Jude's "number of choice" whenever he's trying to get across the concept of "a lot."

"How long until Daddy gets home?"

"A few more hours."

"84,000?"

"How far is it to Papa's house?"

"It's a really long drive, remember? It takes us all day."

"84,000?"

Or, when I comment, "You're getting really tall, buddy!"

"Yeah! I'm 84,000 tall!"

I don't know where he picked this number up from--one of his friends, probably. The funniest thing is, he really has no concept of any number over 10, and has no clue about units of measurement for time, height, distance, or anything else. Jason just playing along and saying "yep" probably isn't helping, either.

This week it seems we have accomplished 84,000 renovation projects, but in reality we are only at varying stages through three or four. Remember Max's room in Where the Wild Things Are? Remember how the carpet turned to grass and the trees grew up to the ceiling and it turned into a forest by the sea? That is, apparently, what is going on in our basement bathroom. When we lifted the linoleum down there to prep it for new flooring, we discovered a small lake that was harbouring a rather largish colony of black mold. And, lovingly wrapped around the base of our toilet was--I kid you not--a tree root. We diffused Young Living's Thieves blend of oil for a day in there to kill the mold, and the air is much clearer-smelling. Now I just have to go down there and clean up the mess. (Apparently, using chlorine bleach actually just drives the mold spores into the air where you can breathe them in, and the Thieves actually kills 99.96% of the spores.)

There's something more than a little unsettling about discovering that nature has invaded your domain so passive-aggressively. Most of the "something" has to do with the dollar signs adding up in your head to fix the problem--the little voice that is whispering in your head is fairly certain it will be somewhere in the area of $84,000.

I have heard that there is a magical, terrible moment that sometimes happens to people with very long, straight hair, when it suddenly develops a mind of it's own and instantaneously snarls so badly that almost the only way to solve the mess is to cut it all off.

That is what happened to my back last night, inconveniently right before our date. I was going along fine, minding my own business; I had just put the paintbrush away to get ready for the date--wrapping it carefully in a plastic bag so that later, I could easily pick up where I left off--when BAM! out of no where I could barely lift my arms. Somewhere in the middle of my back the muscles had snarled beyond recognition. Hopefully, complete amputation won't be necessary--just a massage from my honey should give a good jump-start on the healing process. (I suspect that my sexy new chocolate brown bra is the culprit, unfortunately. Sigh.)

This morning, unfortunately, it still hurts 84,000.

Happy Weekend, friends. Tell me something interesting about your week...

Right now, "disarray" does not even begin to describe my house.

My fridge is in my living room.

My dining table is in my living room.

My countertops are covered in mugs, glasses, tea, and pantry items.

My desk is sporting the decorations that usually go on top of the hutch.

The hutch is in the hallway.

The toilet is in the bathtub.

BUT!

The bathroom floors and walls are sporting yet-to-be-grouted tile.

AND!

After today, I will get to enjoy the new vinyl flooring in my erstwhile plush-carpeted dining room. As well as new flooring in my entrance, kitchen, and down the stairs.

Renovation is a pain. But oh-so-worth-it.