I had no idea of the origin of Pancake Day so I did a bit of research...this is what I found:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrove_Tuesday
It even references our Newfie tradition of hiding coins, etc. inside the pancakes. That was always a lot of fun when we were kids.
Enjoy your yummy pancake supper (with molasses for me)!
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
New Church Baby Shower
Since moving to Acton, Jamie and I have been attending a new church in Georgetown. We were both quite nervous (especially Jamie) about starting over. We had always attended KRT in Brampton - a very large church. Georgetown Christian Fellowship is certainly much bigger than the church I grew up in back home but considerably smaller than Brampton.
Much to my delight (and Jamie's chagrin as he seems to prefer to kinda just be the "outsider") the people at this new church are SO friendly and welcoming. I really like it there. Years going to KRT with meeting barely anyone. And just a few weeks at this church and I feel as though I am already making some good friendly acquaintances.
My second Sunday in the church I was invited to a baby shower. I kinda know the girl for whom the baby shower was being held. Her husband attended the Pentecostal school in Deer Lake and I knew his ex-girlfriend. Anyways, I thought this would be a good opportunity to meet some of the ladies from the church. And it was a really good night. The Pastors wife used the baby shower as an opportunity to introduce new people (such as myself) to Becky (the new mom - who is also fairly new to this church). We had a good laugh, ate lots of your typical baby shower food, and I found out that there a couple of the younger ladies who do scrapbooking...and a couple of the 30-something and 40-something ladies who asked if I would teach them how. Any excuse to scrapbook, I'd be more than happy with.
The ladies had asked about Jamie. I told him that we are newlyweds (ahhhh, how nice) and explained that he wasn't really accustomed to regular church attendance before we got together but that he was very supportive of my being involved. They wanted to make sure he was comfortable and said to explain that they wouldn't be pushy, that they weren't interested in being super "religious" but wanted to be friendly and make him feel at home. Jamie's quite shy and nervous about this whole thing so I really wouldn't want him to feel pressured.
So I'm happy. Church has always been a part of my life. As a teenager it seemed less important but now that I'm on my own, I realize how great it really is. I'm convinced the founding fathers of our country would freak out if they now saw how many people hold religion in no significance in their life. And why complain about the various other cultures and religions coming in to "take over" our country if we are not willing to stand up for ours? Why would they care about our churches if we don't? It is so clear especially here in the GTA with the rate at which other religions are growing and building their own places of worship.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not just referring to MY religion as being THE ONE. Although I prefer my church, I also hold great value to christians who support and attend other denominations (be it Catholic, Anglican, Salvation Army, United, Baptists, whatever). We may be different but are so intertwined that it really is just ridiculous to fight over denomination. Some of the old traditions of the church in the past really were quite silly and I am seeing a big change. I remember the days of not being able to wear pants to church, no ear piercings or makeup, no going to dances, etc. It seemed that going to church meant you had to be perfect, that you couldn't have fun, couldn't have friends who were non-christians. But I don't believe these to be "Biblical" things and I am seeing a swaying toward following the Bible rather than just going along with what traditional "old time religion" taught us.
Anyways, enough of that (I wasn't intending to preach...lol) Religion really is such a touchy subject and sometimes full of so much bitterness and confusion for people. Just remember the future of our country and the future of your family and take God into consideration. We really are a blessed people in a blessed country and I would like to see it continue that way.
Much to my delight (and Jamie's chagrin as he seems to prefer to kinda just be the "outsider") the people at this new church are SO friendly and welcoming. I really like it there. Years going to KRT with meeting barely anyone. And just a few weeks at this church and I feel as though I am already making some good friendly acquaintances.
My second Sunday in the church I was invited to a baby shower. I kinda know the girl for whom the baby shower was being held. Her husband attended the Pentecostal school in Deer Lake and I knew his ex-girlfriend. Anyways, I thought this would be a good opportunity to meet some of the ladies from the church. And it was a really good night. The Pastors wife used the baby shower as an opportunity to introduce new people (such as myself) to Becky (the new mom - who is also fairly new to this church). We had a good laugh, ate lots of your typical baby shower food, and I found out that there a couple of the younger ladies who do scrapbooking...and a couple of the 30-something and 40-something ladies who asked if I would teach them how. Any excuse to scrapbook, I'd be more than happy with.
The ladies had asked about Jamie. I told him that we are newlyweds (ahhhh, how nice) and explained that he wasn't really accustomed to regular church attendance before we got together but that he was very supportive of my being involved. They wanted to make sure he was comfortable and said to explain that they wouldn't be pushy, that they weren't interested in being super "religious" but wanted to be friendly and make him feel at home. Jamie's quite shy and nervous about this whole thing so I really wouldn't want him to feel pressured.
So I'm happy. Church has always been a part of my life. As a teenager it seemed less important but now that I'm on my own, I realize how great it really is. I'm convinced the founding fathers of our country would freak out if they now saw how many people hold religion in no significance in their life. And why complain about the various other cultures and religions coming in to "take over" our country if we are not willing to stand up for ours? Why would they care about our churches if we don't? It is so clear especially here in the GTA with the rate at which other religions are growing and building their own places of worship.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not just referring to MY religion as being THE ONE. Although I prefer my church, I also hold great value to christians who support and attend other denominations (be it Catholic, Anglican, Salvation Army, United, Baptists, whatever). We may be different but are so intertwined that it really is just ridiculous to fight over denomination. Some of the old traditions of the church in the past really were quite silly and I am seeing a big change. I remember the days of not being able to wear pants to church, no ear piercings or makeup, no going to dances, etc. It seemed that going to church meant you had to be perfect, that you couldn't have fun, couldn't have friends who were non-christians. But I don't believe these to be "Biblical" things and I am seeing a swaying toward following the Bible rather than just going along with what traditional "old time religion" taught us.
Anyways, enough of that (I wasn't intending to preach...lol) Religion really is such a touchy subject and sometimes full of so much bitterness and confusion for people. Just remember the future of our country and the future of your family and take God into consideration. We really are a blessed people in a blessed country and I would like to see it continue that way.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Baby Logan
Just want to share a couple of pics of Mark and Kayla's new baby boy. Enjoy, he's a cutie!
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Polar Hunt
There was an article today in the Toronto Sun that really bothered me.
The article is entitled "Polar Extremes: Majestic King of the North faces fight for survival on two fronts: Big game hunters -- and greenhouse gases melting the polar ice cap"
http://www.torontosun.com/News/Canada/2006/02/26/1463013-sun.html
It talks about sport hunting, specifically the hunt for polar bears. And the price tag for hunters to kill one of these majestic and beautiful creatures in our great white north?: a mere $25,000 - $50,000. And yes, it is legal. And yes, the Inuit people do profit from these sport hunts.
And that leaves me quite torn...
I am upset by the hunter who wants to kill a polar bear for sport.
But yet I have learned of how this helps our Inuit people earn income.
I am upset at the thought of any animal being killed for sport. The idea is so foreign and ridiculous to me, I simply can't wrap my mind around hunting for "sport", hunting for a prize, a trophy to mount on your wall, to gloat, for bragging rights, for the thrill of shooting something for the glory of the kill. This kind of hunting bears no respect for these animals.
I grew up in a hunting family, in a province where hunting is the "norm". Families depend on the hunt - of moose, caribou, rabbit, ducks, etc. for food. And I can certainly appreciate the need. I have no problem with hunting in this way. I can appreciate the fact that the people in the north hunt polar bears for furs, for the meat, for the bones and teeth, for anything and everything that can be used. The Inuit have hunted polar bears for centuries and I believe they have a right to do so.
But where to draw the line? It's such a fine one. The hunt for sport, though I believe to be wrong, greatly benefits the Native people of Nunavut. While I am upset by the sport hunter I just can't find it in me to be angry at the Inuit man who assists and guides in this hunt for the welfare of his family. Does that make me a hypocrite and completely undermine my argument? Probably...
My conclusion:
Hunt for food, to fill your freezers, to feed your families, to earn a living...yes, I understand.
But to the sport hunters who want to kill just to have a 1600 lb bear in their living room...I just don't get it!
The article is entitled "Polar Extremes: Majestic King of the North faces fight for survival on two fronts: Big game hunters -- and greenhouse gases melting the polar ice cap"
http://www.torontosun.com/News/Canada/2006/02/26/1463013-sun.html
It talks about sport hunting, specifically the hunt for polar bears. And the price tag for hunters to kill one of these majestic and beautiful creatures in our great white north?: a mere $25,000 - $50,000. And yes, it is legal. And yes, the Inuit people do profit from these sport hunts.
And that leaves me quite torn...
I am upset by the hunter who wants to kill a polar bear for sport.
But yet I have learned of how this helps our Inuit people earn income.
I am upset at the thought of any animal being killed for sport. The idea is so foreign and ridiculous to me, I simply can't wrap my mind around hunting for "sport", hunting for a prize, a trophy to mount on your wall, to gloat, for bragging rights, for the thrill of shooting something for the glory of the kill. This kind of hunting bears no respect for these animals.
I grew up in a hunting family, in a province where hunting is the "norm". Families depend on the hunt - of moose, caribou, rabbit, ducks, etc. for food. And I can certainly appreciate the need. I have no problem with hunting in this way. I can appreciate the fact that the people in the north hunt polar bears for furs, for the meat, for the bones and teeth, for anything and everything that can be used. The Inuit have hunted polar bears for centuries and I believe they have a right to do so.
But where to draw the line? It's such a fine one. The hunt for sport, though I believe to be wrong, greatly benefits the Native people of Nunavut. While I am upset by the sport hunter I just can't find it in me to be angry at the Inuit man who assists and guides in this hunt for the welfare of his family. Does that make me a hypocrite and completely undermine my argument? Probably...
My conclusion:
Hunt for food, to fill your freezers, to feed your families, to earn a living...yes, I understand.
But to the sport hunters who want to kill just to have a 1600 lb bear in their living room...I just don't get it!
Thursday, February 23, 2006
The Little Old Lady vs. The Young Punk
Driving home yesterday I witnessed a close call, nearly an accident:
(And who would you believe if faced with the decision of choosing between the story told by the little old lady and the story told by the young punk?)
Driver A minding their own business driving along in the left lane after just having made a nice left hand turn at the stop light up ahead.
Driver B swerving out of the parking lot on the left, across the road and way over the line almost completely cutting off Driver A.
I was stopped at the light and saw all this happen and was just holding my breath and waiting for the collision. Thankfully, no collision occurred.
But I thought of the police officer approaching the scene of this hypothetical accident. Who would he believe had there been no witnesses? Who would he be inclined to side with in the instance of Driver B stretching the truth to their obvious advantage. This police officer would be faced with a case involving completely opposite ends of the societal spectrum:
Driver A: SUV driving, sideways baseball cap, tattooed and pierced, black baggy bomber jacket, possibly new driver, young punk!!
Driver B: Silver sedan driving, permed white hair, stopping in at the local library to read over the top of the glasses perched across her nose, tweed jacket, delicate little old lady.
I'm pretty certain, as I face-up to my prejudices, who I would have believed had I been the police officer in this potential situation.
And that's pretty sad.
(And who would you believe if faced with the decision of choosing between the story told by the little old lady and the story told by the young punk?)
Driver A minding their own business driving along in the left lane after just having made a nice left hand turn at the stop light up ahead.
Driver B swerving out of the parking lot on the left, across the road and way over the line almost completely cutting off Driver A.
I was stopped at the light and saw all this happen and was just holding my breath and waiting for the collision. Thankfully, no collision occurred.
But I thought of the police officer approaching the scene of this hypothetical accident. Who would he believe had there been no witnesses? Who would he be inclined to side with in the instance of Driver B stretching the truth to their obvious advantage. This police officer would be faced with a case involving completely opposite ends of the societal spectrum:
Driver A: SUV driving, sideways baseball cap, tattooed and pierced, black baggy bomber jacket, possibly new driver, young punk!!
Driver B: Silver sedan driving, permed white hair, stopping in at the local library to read over the top of the glasses perched across her nose, tweed jacket, delicate little old lady.
I'm pretty certain, as I face-up to my prejudices, who I would have believed had I been the police officer in this potential situation.
And that's pretty sad.
Monday, February 20, 2006
Guess what I had?
....Chicken Coop!! uh huh, oh YEAH! he he!
For those of you who know what this is, you understand my excitement. For those of you who do not, let me explain a little:
In picture above you will see a tiny little building separated into three portions, the far left of which was the ONE and ONLY take-out chicken/french fries place in the community I grew up in (at the time when I was home...). Yep, that's right...the one and only place to enjoy anything but mom's cooking. To give you an even crazier idea of the extent of this...the closest McD's? Over an hours drive away!
As for the name..."Chicken Coop" is just a nickname. The actual name of this little place is "The Lighthouse Restaurant". And oh boy, did we enjoy eating there? It was so great on a Saturday night to drive down and wait for ages for a piece of chicken and home fries smothered in thick gravy. So Good! So addictive that when you leave home you simply crave it far above anything else. It's the first place my friends talk about visiting when they hit the rock.
And maybe it's not just the food that brings you back in memory to a place like the Chicken Coop. It might be the waiting and salivating over the aroma of the salt air mixed with greasy fried fish and chicken. It might be sitting in the front of the take-out chatting and watching people come and go...especially the people from the bar across the street who never failed to make fools of themselves in their drunken stupors demanding fast food. Or it might simply be the breathtaking view of the ocean from the front window of the restaurant, a view so taken for granted when you live there, but so sorely missed when you move to a city devoid of nature in such splendor.
So when my brother flew home for a visit last week I knew what I would do. We chatted on MSN on Saturday and I told him to please bring me back a "snack" (that's 2 pcs of chicken with french fries and gravy). He said, "Well, mom and dad have the truck at the business meeting at the church for the rest of the night and it's really stormy." to which I replied, "Well call them and tell them you have an urgent request that requires their immediate attention"....ha ha..."I'll see what I can do, " he said. He understands, you see.
And when I called my brother yesterday morning, he gave me the fantastic news, he had in his carry-on, some frozen chicken and french fries and gravy. Mom had lovingly dumped it all into plastic containers and taped it all shut and froze it for the flight. (Mom always tapes everything with that wide packing tape as though it is bound for an adventure around the world and she never quite expects it will ever reach its destination fully in tact). And even after being nuked, it was still great! I overstuffed myself and couldn't even quite finish it all. (Jamie then enjoyed finishing for me).
And then I couldn't help but call my sister and tell her the wonderful news of my meal. Her reply, "Hey, where's mine? I'm the pregnant one, remember?"
Sorry...better luck next time!
Friday, February 17, 2006
Are you afraid of the dark?
I know this will sound incredibly silly and completely unnatural (with the nocturnal thing and all) but I think my cat may be afraid of the dark. No, seriously! He chases me around everywhere so when I go to the basement to do laundry he follows me there too. And he seems to like it down there, seems to have a desire to remain lying on the cold cement...but as soon as I walk up those stairs and turn off the light, he bolts up the stairs like a "cat out of hell" ...he, he...sorry had to say it. But yeah, I dunno...it's weird. And he always sleeps right outside our door during the night because I'm a really mean mom who won't let him stay in our bedroom.
And I think it could be a case of "like mother, like son" as I realized last night:
Since moving to Acton, it seems we lose power quite often, almost every time we have heavy snow or rain. So, of course, being the big wuss that I am, I secretly freak out on the inside about the fact that we have absolutely NO flashlights in the house with functioning batteries. And last night as the lights were flickering, I knew I still had to go to the basement to get laundry out of the dryer. I cursed the flashlights (all 3 of them) and went to light a candle that I could carry around with me in the event of possible complete power failure. And I go downstairs carrying the flaming candle... and I fold my 2 loads of laundry... and then I attempt to carry the heavy laundry basket full of flammable linens and cottons and wools, etc. in one arm back up the stairs while clumsily carrying the ignition source in the other hand....all of this with feline under foot. Hmmm...fear really has a tendency to make one quite irrational, doesn't it?
And then I went to bed safe and sound with my already snoring heavily (kinda like a power saw) husband and listened to the pouring rain and the beeping smoke detector signifying that the power really did finally go out.
And I think it could be a case of "like mother, like son" as I realized last night:
Since moving to Acton, it seems we lose power quite often, almost every time we have heavy snow or rain. So, of course, being the big wuss that I am, I secretly freak out on the inside about the fact that we have absolutely NO flashlights in the house with functioning batteries. And last night as the lights were flickering, I knew I still had to go to the basement to get laundry out of the dryer. I cursed the flashlights (all 3 of them) and went to light a candle that I could carry around with me in the event of possible complete power failure. And I go downstairs carrying the flaming candle... and I fold my 2 loads of laundry... and then I attempt to carry the heavy laundry basket full of flammable linens and cottons and wools, etc. in one arm back up the stairs while clumsily carrying the ignition source in the other hand....all of this with feline under foot. Hmmm...fear really has a tendency to make one quite irrational, doesn't it?
And then I went to bed safe and sound with my already snoring heavily (kinda like a power saw) husband and listened to the pouring rain and the beeping smoke detector signifying that the power really did finally go out.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Congratulations to Mark and Kayla Knott on the birth of their new baby boy, born late this morning, weighing in at approx. 8.5 lbs. All of the information I have is kinda 3rd hand so I will fill in the details later. I believe they had chosen the name Logan.
Mark & Kayla, all the best to you both in this new journey of starting a family.
Mark & Kayla, all the best to you both in this new journey of starting a family.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
My Valentines Gift from Jamie
...bought fresh from the grocery store at 4:30 this afternoon on the way home from work with all of the other last-minute men in the lineup at the checkout...and of course, cause who are we kidding? he got me chocolates too!
I got him chocolates only...a huge toblerone bar (his favourite). He doesn't do so well with receiving flowers...somethin' about being too manly for flowers? "Manly"? I don't get it...oh well...he he :)
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