A New Reality

My husband is set to retire in a bit over a year. He's approaching it with a casual attitude, although he has his specific date picked out. In the past few years, business had slowed down a bit, and he's OK with that. Says he's 'practicing' for retirement.

Both of us recognize that there is a little glitch that's wormed its way into our financial lives, though. Our cash flow is less than it has been. And so, we need to manage that little glitch so we don't find ourselves with a huge negative balance. Not that we'll need to go live under a bridge anytime soon, but we don't want to start using our retirement savings until he is truly retired. My paltry writing income is inconsequential, so curbing our spending seems to be the best way to do the balancing act.

Last year, we celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary, and spent some cash on a lovely shindig, more cash on a trip to Coeur d'Alene (recreating our honeymoon), and even more cash on a family vacation with our kids and grandkids. It was wonderful!

So now, we are in the 'Year of Austerity', as Don calls it. We're having a bit of fun thinking of ways to cut back, but it's not that bad, although I really don't like to consider every purchase I make. That's just not me. I do like to splurge once in awhile. We've actually done very well these first few month of 2016, in spite of the plummeting looney.

As I was thinking about the 'Year of Austerity', I started to sing a tune from the 60's…This is the dawning of the year of austerity, year of austerity…you know the song (unless you're very young). Maybe one day I'll get some musical friend to help me record it.  Hope you enjoy.

This is the dawning of the year of austerity, year of austerity...

Seems that we’ve been overspending

Time for us to face reality;

As our income nears cessation

No more lofty expectations,

No more sand and sea vacations,

Just non-stop precipitation...Austerity, austerity.

This is the dawning of the year of austerity, year of austerity...

Checking sales and clipping coupons,

Purchasing just our necessities.

Shopping never was frustrating,

Have you seen the price of bacon?

It’s a second look I’m takin’

Surely they must be mistaken... Austerity, austerity.

This is the dawning of the year of austerity, year of austerity...

Cancel satellite and land line,

Keep the thermostat to minimum;

Cook at home and grow our veggies,

Take the challenge, live on less, 

Might as well enjoy the process

If we need to live this way, I guess...Austerity, austerity.

This is the dawning of the year of austerity, year of austerity…


We'll keep plugging away and see how we make out this year. Then perhaps next year we can loosen the purse strings a bit.

Keeping Plants Hydrated in the Midst of Watering Restrictions

In the words of Blues musician W. C. Handy, "You'll never miss the water 'til the well runs dry." Just like the air we breathe, how easy it is to take water for granted. (Those in areas affected by summer wildfires know what it is to live without clean air).

 The last number of summers in and around Vancouver have been dryer than usual.  This year's drought has prompted severe watering restrictions. I have a large garden of trees, shrubs, perennials, a few annuals and a vegetable/berry patch. I am responsible for this little part of creation, and it's my job to keep these plants from wilting, browning up and losing their leaves and flowers prematurely. And what a shame it would be to lose the vegetables that are now just coming into their own - beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, basil and lettuce, not to mention my very first crop of kiwis! While I can still use a spring-loaded hand sprayer to water my plants, I'm anticipating the next stage, and getting ready.

But I'm not usually one to panic. In an effort to comply with these very necessary restrictions, I have begun catching and using what water I can to help my garden out. Should you decide to use some of my methods, please keep in mind that when re-using water, you must be careful about any soaps or chemicals you've used, being sure they're biodegradable, and won't harm your vegetation. As it turns out, soapy water is often used to deter garden diseases and pests.

So here are a few changes I'm making while the restrictions last (and maybe I'll even keep a few forever after):

Hand washing: It takes about 1/2 gallon of water to wash my hands properly. I'm leaving a bit of soapy water in a small container in the sink. I wash my hands, then rinse from the tap. When the container's full, I empty it into a larger pail for watering plants.

Dishes: I'm washing dishes by hand (just like in the 'old days') in a plastic tub. I rinse off the worst food particles and grease before washing them. Besides conserving water, I can use the dishwater for garden plants/trees.

Shower: For some time now, I've been showering every second day.  I've not admitted this in public, because people will probably draw some incorrect assumptions about me. However, I happen to have sensitive skin that dries easily. (When I was a kid, most people bathed once a week, on Saturday night. Just ask Grandma. So glad we're past that!) But back to my point. Showering every 2nd day instead of daily, conserves water and is less drying to the skin. Turning off the water while shampooing and soaping down conserves the water by more than half.  If you have enough room in your shower and you're really diligent, place a bucket in the shower with you. See how much water you catch. Use it in the garden. Bathing uses a great deal more water than showering, but the small kids need their bath, so try bailing out as much of the bathwater as you can for garden use.

Laundry: I've pulled my top load washer away from the wall for access to the outflow hose. By timing the washing cycle and being there when the tub empties, I'm able to catch almost 40 gallons for each of the wash and rinse cycles (on a medium load). My shrubs are thankful! I line up 4 or 5 10 - gallon pails. When one is almost full, I push in the cycle button to stop the water flowing so I can move the hose to the next pail, and so forth. I'm also trying to time laundry for effective watering, rather than doing all loads in one day.

Short of going out and buying a front loading washer, a low-flush toilet or water-conserving shower head, there are a few other methods of saving water.

Sensible water use:

•  Turn off the tap while brushing your teeth, scrubbing your hands, etc.
• Catch the running water while you're waiting for it to come to temperature.
• Any water you use (washing your floor, etc) can be used to water your (or your neighbor's) garden. 
• Flush less (I know, but little kids and avid water drinkers can often use the toilet a few times between flushes). 

Whether or not you find these ideas helpful may depend on whether you grew up in a resourceful household during leaner years. There was a time when we looked carefully at our consumption of all things. Maybe this is the upside of water restrictions. And maybe we'll develop some good habits for the future. After all, not only would we miss the water should the well run dry, we couldn't survive without it!

Please share any other practical ideas you have for water conservation.

When Friends Struggle

I was thinking today about the fine line between being helpful and being overbearing. Sometimes it's hard to know exactly where that line exists. This is especially true when I see members of my  community struggling with mental illness and/or depression.

Usually they feel the stigma that's long been attached to a disability that is not visible to the naked eye. There's no bone to set, no muscle spasms to massage away, no incision to heal. The cause of the illness is often anybody's guess. Anything from a repressed past, to a chemical imbalance, a build-up of long held inner stress, or a combination of all of the above.

When I run into them or call, I feel like it's so trite to ask, "How are you?" or even, "I'm praying for you". Each person is different and reacts differently to how I might support them. Or the same person will react differently from one time to another. Saying that they're in my daily prayers meets with a positive reaction one time, and a 'look' another time. One person still believes that God is walking alongside them somehow, somewhere - while the other has given up on a God who doesn't seem to be anywhere present.

Sometimes just being present, in silence, is the best thing, although it can feel pretty awkward. Any of us who have gone through tough stuff know that having someone available is a gift.  It may be good to admit that I'm at a loss to help, although we want to. Asking what we can do may be the right thing.  Or just doing something practical could be the best - bring a meal, invite them out for coffee, offer to do some daily chores that are overwhelming. It all boils down to being sensitive to what we notice, who the person is, and what my heart is telling me.

And I guess that maybe sometimes feeling helpless is what life is about. As long as feeling helpless doesn't become justification to leave them all alone.

O Canada!

Yesterday I attended a Remembrance Day Service at the local Cenotaph. I hadn't been for a few years, and was surprised by the attendance numbers. Perhaps people came out in a show of patriotism after the shooting at Ottawa's cenotaph and in Quebec a few weeks ago. With global terrorism incidents so regular in our news, it strikes me over and over again how blessed I am to be a Canadian citizen.

Ours is a country that truly strives for respect of all races, colors, faiths and nationalities. I'm proud of that.  Ours is also a country that steps in to work for peace. I'm proud of that too. I'm grateful for our military troops, for our law enforcement and first responders.

I feel so blessed to have been born in this country.  How different life is in parts of the world where children grow up with strong biases against certain groups, where violence is the norm, or where poverty keeps children or sometimes just girls from getting a decent education, health care or proper nutrition. I could have been born in a country where children are taught to bear arms - and use them - at an early age.

Growing up, I somehow supposed that people the world over lived more or less like I did. What a naive assumption that was! How much I have learned - and in the learning come to see that, being blessed as I am, I am responsible to be a part of their solution in whatever way i can.

And indeed, I am so grateful for this country. My country.

When we sang "O Canada" at the service yesterday, I had to stop singing for the lump that formed in my throat. God, keep our land glorious and free...

Apologies

I was listening to Stuart McLean on CBC this morning - The Vinyl Cafe series.

I've always enjoyed his work. He's informing, thought-provoking, funny, his sense of timing is impeccable, and he's believable. I think most Canadians who listen to his stories respect McLean for the being a loyal Canadian who often brings out the lighter side of our nationality while exposing our vulnerabilities.

This morning, McLean offered an apology for how he came across in one of his previous broadcasts. Before offering his own apology, McLean spoke highly of Prime Minister Harper's admission of wrong and apology to the Canadian First Nations for the treatment they received in residential schools over more than a century. McLean also talked about the Australian Government, taking it a step further with their Aboriginal People by declaring an annual 'Sorry Day', to remember the wrongs committed and put some traction to their apology.

Listening to McLean's apology - something that, quite frankly, was an anomaly for the program - gave me greater respect for the man as a writer and human being. He spoke of writing, and how writers do what they do to release the thoughts and ideas within themselves, and also to bring greater awareness of history and current events to their readers. I had some 'Yes!' moments as I resonated with his comments.

McLean's own admission of insensitivity made me realize that no matter how loved or accomplished we are in what we do - as writers, communicators - we are bound to make mistakes. Other people will come forward to challenge our ideas, our assumptions or our attempts to present issues in a specific light. This is not a bad thing. I liked McLean's comment that he was given "pause".

Sometimes our errors are, in hindsight, embarrassing. We look back, smack our forehead with our palm, and ask ourselves, "How could I have done that?" Other times, we realize we've committed errors by not thinking things through from all angles.  And there are always many.

Just this week, I was bemoaning the fact that I had made a blunder. In retrospect, I'm still not sure how I managed to do it, yet I, like McLean had been unwittingly insensitive to someone through my writing.

My ever-supportive husband recognized my need for a hug, and reminded me that he, too, struggles when he makes mistakes in his work. We feel like we should know better. We're hard on ourselves. But taking 'pause' is important. Considering how I have annoyed or hurt someone is humbling.

Writing is risky. Following our heart and dreams is risky. Sometimes we'll look ridiculous in the opinion of others.

Is it worth it? Definitely. Anything worth doing demands a striving for excellence and has its own rewards.

Taking responsibility for what I say and do gives me credibility as a human being, humility as a writer and earns the respect of others if I'm sincere in my apology and learn from my blunders. We'll never be perfect this side of Heaven.  That said, I still hate making mistakes.

Zombies and Miracles

When I heard a radio ad about the annual Zombie Walk in Vancouver last week, I got to thinking about how some people get their 'kicks'. I, for one, don't get it. To me there's nothing lovely, attractive, beautiful or compelling about dressing up like the 'walking dead' with blood smeared all over my face and body.

I considered posting a picture of the heinous costumes and make-up, but I couldn't do it. Not even to give you an idea of what this looks like. It's just too...gruesome and truthfully, the pictures sicken me, as I'm sure they're meant to.

I find it incredulous that people actually enjoy playing around with the ugliness of death, deformity, mutilation, gore and decay. Where's the attraction? Innocent fun? Really?

One of the rules for the Vancouver Zombie Walk states: 'Though we big kids all see the fun in it, small children may not, and if you see any children reacting fearfully, please do not add to their distress. Just move on and let their parents explain … do NOT accidentally be the douche who gives them nightmares for a week by leering in their face.'

So what, exactly, do the parents explain? What would I say to my grandkids if we didn't know this was going on and happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Ah,... kids, this is just some big people having a bit of fun.  Just try to forget what you saw...put it out of your head so you don't have nightmares...?

I ask myself, what is this - an example of the human spirit's propensity for being drawn to the darkness that seeks to destroy them? A preoccupation with death as the ultimate experience, perhaps? Or is it to engage in an 'other-world experience'? Something out of the ordinary?

Maybe they're just trying to find a way to connect with the physical death that inevitably will come at some point for each of us.

For some reason, I'm drawn to things that are intrinsically beautiful and lovely. I'm also drawn to the power that exchanges ugliness for beauty. To experience this kind of power is the ultimate experience. No greater power exists than the power of Jesus, who lived to bring healing, joy, life and hope to those who needed it most. I'm counting on coming out of the grave, too...but not in the form of a zombie. I'm coming out with a glorious new form - pure, clean and glorious.


Today I went online to Bible Gateway to prepare for a women's group I meet with. I read an interview with Dr. Mark Batterson (https://www.biblegateway.com/blog/2014/09/god-still-performs-miracles-an-interview-with-mark-batterson/), about his book, The Grave Robber. 

 In his book, Dr. Batterson talks about the life that Jesus gave wherever he went; his power and miracles that are still in evidence today, if we have eyes to see them. He says, 'I offer an important warning at the beginning of the book: don’t seek miracles. Seek Jesus. And if you seek Jesus, you’ll eventually find yourself in the middle of some miracles. Why? Because that’s who Jesus is. That’s what Jesus does'

Now THIS is out of the ordinary in a BIG way! Zombie Walkers, try The Grave Robber on for size!

A Salute to Artists

Sally Mankus, Mixed Media

Many artists have been disparaged or dismissed outright by their families or friends - most likely because the practicality of 'doing' art is difficult. Making a living at it is at very least, risky. In addition to being held in dubious regard by those closest to them, artists will tell you about the self-doubt they struggle with, simply because of the subjectivity of their product. Are they good enough? What if their product doesn't sell? What if something technical goes wrong during the performance? What will the critics say? How will those who matter most, react?

No matter the source, rejection is a bitter pill to swallow. Indifference is no better.

A world without art is unimaginable. Art provides color in an otherwise black-and-white existence. An exquisite sculpture, a thought-provoking painting, a mixed-media piece that reminds us of our history, a book that we can't put down, a musical score that takes our breath away or an intriguing drama that stays with us for days.

As tasty, nourishing food is to the body, good art provides sustenance for the spirit. It exhilarates us, makes us think differently about the world, gives us hope, inspires us, serves to provide valuable introspection, connects us more deeply with God or neighbor, or simply entertains us, allowing us to 'get away' for a few moments or hours. Art can trouble us, stimulate us, and hopefully change us in some way for the better.

Is art essential? Absolutely. Interesting to think that we - especially in our Western bourgeoisie culture - most often favor practical, physical needs over our emotional, spiritual fulfillment. We are known to seize every opportunity to get ahead, working frantically to procure goods and services, forgetting that our spirits need to be fed - indeed, that by feeding them, we become refocused. We slow down, becoming deeper - ever moving towards wholeness.

It is my hope that artists will do their best to ignore the indifference or criticism they encounter for following their calling. May they continue to challenge our thinking, arouse our passions, entertain and delight us. May their goal always be to strive for excellence in their craft, to be bold enough to share their gifts with the world and to surround themselves with those who support them in their often uncertain environment. May they know that the Creator, who fashioned us in His image, has put within each of them their unique imagination for this very purpose.

“What can we say beyond Wow, in the presence of glorious art, in music so magnificent that it can't have originated solely on this side of things? Wonder takes our breath away, and makes room for new breath.” 
 (Ann Lamott, Help Thanks Wow: Three Essential Prayers)