Fine Footwear

Today I got annoyed.

It seems that I have a tendency to buy shoes that don't fit quite right. What is wrong with me? You'd think now that I'm in my late 20s I could buy shoes that fit properly.

I bought a pair of shoes in the spring - size 9. It should have been a great fit. The last shoes that I got I was fitted for at The Running Room and they are fine footwear - size 9. These new shoes - an outdoor half-ass hiker - are like strapping planks to my feet. WAYYYY too big. Well, just a smidge, but an annoying smidge all the same.

I was out and about today in the slush buying overpriced craft supplies for my maniac students to make Christmas gifts for others at youth next Friday. I decided to pop into MEC and see if they still carried the plank shoes that I bought in the spring. Sure enough, there they were. And what's more, there they were in a glowing size 8.5.

I told the nice MEC person my story. And she let me take the 9ers off my feet and trade them in. No cost. No bother. Just a better fitting pair of shoes that keep my feet dry.

Snowday Monday

I love snow! It's a little like the rest of Canada in Vancouver this week. This is the view of the backyard from the kitchen.


These are my happy prairie Sorel boots. They love days like today.


The path to the laundry room - brrr.

I Heart Youth Specialties

Here are some highlight pics from my trip to the National Youth Workers Convention in Cincinnati (November 16-20).

My good buddy Robby Olson and I eating a Cincinnati favourite - Skyline Chili. Who knew Cincinnati was famous for their chili? Not I. What I actually ate is this - the description comes straight from the Skyline Chili menu: 3-Way Chili: Our signature dish...steaming spaghetti, covered with our original, secret-recipe chili and topped with a mound of shredded cheddar cheese. My, oh my.


My new friend Ashley and I. Ashley met Jer in their Critical Concerns course and then Ashley and I had lunch and talked "women in youth ministry."


Jer and I at Outback with Mark. Mark's below . . .


Our Team Leader - Mark "the big dog" Janzen. I really love these guys (Mark and Jer). They continue to show me respect, make my gut hurt with big laughs, and warm my heart with their brotherly love for me and the kids/families we work with. Yay Team!


YS does it up big. This is the stage where we gathered for General Sessions at the Duke Energy Centre. And though YS does a lot of things big and loud, the conference gives a person plenty of ways to tailor the weekend just the way one needs it.

The big theme of my weekend was a continuation of the theme that I've been noticing in my life for the past 6 months - simple moments are charged with the deeply sacred. I found God in the small things more than the loud things at the YS conference: meeting with a mentor, Marv; hanging out with old and new friends; bumping into one of YS's spiritual directors that I spent some time with 2 years ago, Maggie; drawing out a prayer with crayons at a contemplative course . . . I LOVE YOUTH SPECIALTIES.

I also wrote a poem during weekend. It is about the moment I had catching up with Maggie, one of YS's spiritual directors. Here it is . . .

MAGGIE AND ME

I saw her
in attentive conversation
orange walls, orange ceiling

A hope rushed in as I rushed on
I wanted to be in her
incense presence

I turned and stepped on insecurity
down orange hallways
I was recognized and embraced

Toothy smile to toothy smile
a moment to reconnect and remember
--a commissioning
--a note passed, tacked to the fridge
--a breaking heart
--a shining countenance

Farewells of blessings and peace
woven in the sacred space between
two soul friends

Me and My Grandma

I'm presently putting together a few short personal essays to apply to Regent College. Here's one I'm working on this week:

Me and My Grandma

- where I come from -

Two years ago my Grandma Salkeld passed away. She had lived a good life and her decline in health happened rapidly. The news of her turn was at first shocking. I was comforted by words from my uncle. He highlighted the theme of goodness in her life and how she had never wanted to live in an extended care facility. My family, the Salkeld’s, gathered around her hospital bed in Esterhazy, Saskatchewan, two days after she was admitted. She was no longer conscious and in only a few hours she would slip away.

I had flown in from Vancouver. My cousin Lindsey had driven with his wife all the way from Oklahoma City, and my mom had made the journey from her and my dad’s new life in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Other family members came from Edmonton, Calgary, Regina, and the small farming community around Esterhazy. As we gathered from our far away and fairly near homes, we wove our conversations around my grandma’s irregular breaths. We recounted memories and we laughed.

Sister Cecile, one of the nuns from the Catholic Church down the street from the hospital, made mention as she touched my grandma’s face with gentle care that we were creating the perfect environment in the room with our laughter. She said, “This is exactly what Joan should be surrounded by right now.” That afternoon I talked with my family about my memories of my grandma’s movement; I could almost hear a buzz in my ears.

I grew up on the farm that she and my grandpa spent most of their lives on. My grandma was the most frenzied busy-body I know. I have clear memories of her buzzing around the farmhouse kitchen baking ginger snaps, muffins, cinnamon buns, chocolate cake, and Christmas toffee all in one delicious afternoon. I can see her small five foot something body going to and from various farm duties – feeding farmers and neighbors, chasing cattle, helping in the shop, poisoning gophers (an important farm duty when you have herds of cattle grazing in the pastures). Her mouth rarely stopped for a break from chatter. She gave voice to stories from our family history, local country gossip, and details about how much something cost or who had recently written her a letter.

I can see traces of my grandma in me almost every day. I am so thankful that my grandma was an important part of my childhood. And I am so glad that she taught me some things about creatively using my time, working hard no matter how menial the task may seem, and loving those around you in ways that are true to who you are.