COVERED IN DOG HAIR AND GRACE

Some holiday highlights, chosen especially for mom and dad.

A POEM

I was introduced to a new friend in a book this week: Anne Sexton, an American poet (1928-1974). Her book, The Awful Rowing Toward God, met me at just the right place. Here is a poem with whiffs of Advent:

THE EARTH
by Anne Sexton

God loafs around heaven,
without a shape
but He would like to smoke His cigar
or bite His fingernails
and so forth

God owns heaven
but He craves the earth,
the earth with its little sleepy caves,
its bird resting at the kitchen window,
even its murders lined up like broken chairs,
even its writers dipping into their souls
with jackhammers,
even its hucksters selling their animals
for gold,
even its babies sniffing for their music,
the farm house, white as a bone,
sitting in the lap of its corn,
even the statue holding up its widowed life,
even the ocean with its cupful of students,
but most of all He envies the bodies,
He who has no body.

The eyes, opening and shutting like keyholes
and never forgetting, recording by thousands,
the skull with its brains like eels --
the tablet of the world --
the bones and their joints
that build and break for any trick,
the genitals,
the ballast of the eternal,
and the heart, of course,
that swallows the tides
and spits them out cleansed.

He does not envy the soul so much.
He is all soul
but He would like to house it in a body
and come down
and give it a bath
now and then.

POMEGRANATE

I want to live
the way
I eat pomegranates
in season

Attentive to each squirting seed
Fingers engaged and messy
Each little bite is
saving me

RUNNING BACK INTO MY OWN SKIN

I ran today
The sky was folded up in greys and mute blues
I think God was speaking to me
through the woman
walking her dog:
“Good girl. You are a good girl. You are doing so well.”

I JUST HAVE TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE PARTY AT MY HOUSE

Tonight my FUSE group, a small group of grade 6 girls, came over to my house. We squished a wackload of fun into a couple of hours: baking cookies, eating nachos, wild dancing, and even a rousing game of hide-n-seek. I am in awe of the freedom that comes when people feel safe . . . loved/liked . . . enjoyed. Aren't we beautiful (and utterly silly)? Love it.

If You Like Music Like I Like Music

Get your lovely, listening ears over to these two concerts on NPR's All Songs Considered:

1. Nickel Creek
2. Josh Ritter

So stinking great.
You can also get them in peerless podcast presentation.

Hello? Comments? Anyone?

That's right, it's time for the Bobbi blog roll call.
Are you reading this thing?
Then say hello.
I have no idea who's reading this thing.
If you read my little blog, please shout "Here!"

Trash Talk

This afternoon I made an oath between me and the earth.

I was making my way up the last hill on my return from a sunny Fall run. It was not one of my finest running hours, but it was time spent outside -- brightening, connecting, mind-wondering time with myself.

Since the outside workers strike this summer in the city of Vancouver, garbage has crept far, far away from trash cans and can’t seem to find it’s way back home. And, now that Halloween trick-or-treaters have wandered through the neighborhoods there are little Lay’s chip bags and Coffee Crisp wrappers everywhere.

Mess has always equaled stress to me, so I decided to start picking some of it up. I’ve resolved to pick up 1 piece of garbage every time I go outside. But there is something noteworthy about picking up one piece of litter: once you start, you can’t stop. This, and it seems like just the right thing to do.

I’ve been thinking about “the right thing to do” since listening to a Jean Vanier interview with Shelagh Rogers of Sounds Like Canada (CBC radio 1). Vanier said, “I am somebody who does something because I feel it is right. But there is no plan. It is just that it is right and that is what I will do.” He talks about the beginning of L’Arche. L’Arche is a community, now all over the world, of people living together in community with people with developmental disabilities. He said that as he began by living with just two people with disabilities he had no idea he was sitting on a gold mine. Vanier is a large voice of peace and hope in our world, and it seems that this action is linked to simply doing the right thing.

Our actions of goodness, though they might be small and seem insignificant, may one day grow legs on their own and walk about spreading peace and beauty all over the place. I want to be a part of a movement like this, even if, for today, it just means I’ll pick up a few pieces of trash in my East Vancouver neighborhood.

Look Out World

Here comes Captain Hygiene!

For our Halloween youth event on Friday I dressed up like Captain Hygiene. My costume was inspired by the preteens I work with and my love for all things clean. One of my lovely sponsors, Emma, dressed up like . . . me! I didn't get it right away, though. I squished by her on our crowded bus and read the pink heart on her grey long-sleeved tshirt. It said, "I heart CBC." I thought, "That's funny. I love the CBC." Then, I got it.

"And who art thou? said I to the soft-falling shower" (Walt Whitman)

Things I loved about my evening run in the cool rain:
1. The colours of the fallen leaves carpeting the sidewalk.
2. The squish squish sound of my wet, well worn runners as my healthy body moves at its own pace on top of the earth.
3. The glory of the light bursting out of the thick gray atmosphere to say, “Surprise! I really am this beautiful.”
4. The feeling of my own strength as I run.
5. The spaciousness of the city when it rains. People are hiding and the prairie girl in me breathes in this openness. The park is all mine, except for the lover couple under the umbrella and the girl with the jumpy dog and yellow boots (the girl’s boots, that is).

Turkey Trot

My mom and sister came to Vancouver for Thanksgiving. Amazingly, they let me sign them up for the 9th annual Granville Island Turkey Trot - a 10 K race here in Vancouver. I say that it is amazing because NONE of us are runners/racers/athletes. We do love each other, though, so when I expressed interest in this event my lovely mom and sister joined right in (well, Kasha took a little convincing).

It was a beautiful day. There was so much to be thankful for: the changing colours of fall, the water of the sea in the inlet, the presence of friends (Paulina who ran at my slow pace), the diversity of the runners/walkers, our health, the red Puma Turkey Trot shirts, and the fact that it did not pour rain on our grateful heads.

I ALMOST BROKE UP WITH GREY'S ANATOMY . . . UNTIL . . .

"I don't watch a lot of TV."

I know a lot of people like to say that to appear smarter or less lazy, but I truly only find time for The National, The Hour, and usually one show a week. I also like to sound smart and less lazy.

Last year my chosen show was Grey's Anatomy. I wouldn't even say that I chose it, really. I felt chosen by it. I savored the moments of messy humanity in all it's dramatic splendor. The season ended lame, though, so we broke up.

This week I tuned into the new season (oh, and last week, too) and I am momentarily glad we are keeping up our relationship. The theme of this week's episode was addictions -- how people hold onto them even when they know they are destructive, how people develop them from places of real need, how even when we know we should flea with all our energy we don't because it hurts a little less to go back even just once. The various story lines didn't end all solved and tidy, either. I guess that's a bit like the struggle. Plus, those TV people are smart buggers who keep people like me coming back for more.

There is one more theme I liked about this week's episode. The people who dispensed wisdom were the most unlikely. Burke's "ma ma" pointed out some of the most beautiful traits in the people who crossed her path, even those people the viewer could have seen as her adversaries. McSteamy (oh ya) took a moment to check in with Callie as she came close to slipping off the edge of control. And, on it went.

I love sneaky wisdom like this. It is the kind that hides behind an ugly, falling-down fence and then saddles up beside you on a lonely walk to remind you of how the world is or how it should be, anyway.

Slimed

There are days that end well and days when I feel like I'm just scraping the slime off. Here's what I mean.

Days can start off so pleasantly. The sun can reach into the window to greet you. Coffee is prayer in a potter's cup. Sounds of the house say that everyone is home and about to greet the day, too. We are all greeting new days together, though there are some walls that separate us.

But as the day unfolds and we dance around in it (or just shuffle through) some slime can get dumped all over us. This slime can be bits of peoples' ideas of life that squish life down to something so trivial when the whole time we're trying so hard to trace the Spirit. The slime can come in the form of self-imposed laws that we're trading in for full life and love. The slime can come in arrogant ideas that make other people out to be wrong and what's worse, less.

I'm finding ways to scrape off the slime, though. There is so much life to live and my mystic soul is catching it's breath through CBC radio which always reminds me that there is a big world out there, through the music of Romantica and Josh Ritter whose songs soar of this real life, and through new friends met after a wonderful film viewing at Regent.

There is grace upon grace.

Enter Fall

My friend Paulina and I rode our bikes at the Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve on this beautiful fall-like day.



I am drinking more Earl Grey tea.
My nose is cold when I fall asleep at night with my window open a bit.
I am wearing sweaters, shoes and socks.
I am running farther than I've ever ran before.
I am signed up to run my first race (for fun): the Turkey Trot.
The tree outside my house is all ablaze in red.

Ahhhh . . . autumn.

I Heart Music

These are some of the songs I keep playing over and over and over and over . . .

1. Patty Griffin - Mother of God
2. Caedmon's Call - I Just Don't Want Coffee
3. Over the Rhine - Trouble
4. Luke Doucet - Broken One
5. Ryan Adams - Two

Chop the Squawking Chicken's Head Off

I used to be a chicken. Especially when I was a kid. The truth is that things still scare me, especially if they require the qualities of physical prowess, grand coordination, or sporty skillfulness.

On Friday, our Student Ministries team went up Grouse Mountain on the gondola for a team lunch. This is a picture that my friend Jenni took when I wasn't looking (obviously).


Jenni called this picture "contemplative Bobbi." It's true. I was contemplating another way of getting up the mountain: the Grouse Grind. I was thinking about how much this rigorous/2.9km-straight-up/853-meter-gain hike scared me.

I have had a few people this summer tell me that I should do the Grind. I mostly dismissed this urging because I don't really trust my body to accomplish such feats. I trust my soul to move towards beauty and truth. I trust my mind to think the best of people and to keep learning. I trust my emotions to sort themselves out and to guide me in fully living. But trust my body to climb up a mountain? I'm too chicken.

As I left the mountain later on Friday, I subdued the squawking chicken in me and decided to do the Grind sooner than later. THANKFULLY, my kind roommate told me she would do it with me . . . the very next day. I find this helps with moments of squawking chicken - the sooner one chops its head off the better. Just kill the chicken and see how things go.

Yesterday Angie and I did the Grouse Grind and not only did I make it up, I did better than I thought I would. I was well in the range of the average climbers' time (just over an hour and a half), and I am not cursing my body for being stiff and sore today.

Birthday Love Overfloweth

My friend Tanner, whom I've known since grade 2, is having a big birthday this weekend. I knew I wanted to do something super nice for him, but my creative birthday ideas bank was coming up short.

Until CBC rescued me!

Last week I was reminded by CBC radio 1 that Blue Rodeo was going to be in town playing two concerts at Malkin Bowl at Stanley Park. It just so happens that Tanner LOVES Blue Rodeo. I snagged a couple tickets from a friend who had extras and off we went on Saturday night.

It was a delight. And the delight did not end there.

My good friend Tanner spread the birthday gift love by calling his dad and connecting with him from the show. It was beautiful: a special father/son moment across a few provinces.

The State of California in My Heart

One of the highlights of this summer was my weekend in Seattle. It was a happy reunion with friends from California that either live in WA now, came up for a wedding that weekend, or came up just to see me (and maybe hit up a baseball game, too). It got me thinking about my time spent living in the SF Bay Area. My California experience still follows me around and reveals things to me about myself, people, the Divine, and the search for home.

Though my time in California was often overwhelming, stretching, heartbreaking, and completely too big for my prairie britches, it was also a time when I felt incredibly loved, was allowed to grow up into myself and into the world, and that gifted me with some of my most favourite friends. The weekend I spent with these friends was like a hot cup of hot chocolate or the feeling I have just after I brush my teeth - mmmmm sooooo good.

Rebellion

I hate summer clothes. Hate, hate, hate them. Today I stuck it to summer and bought a new black sweater. Ooooohhhh, lovely new black sweater.

Sun

Every day at twilight, when the sky isn't overcrowded with grey, the sun comes to visit my East Van space (which I share with my dear friend Angie). The room takes on hundreds of new hues. It soothes away the shakes of anxiety, the throbs of doubt, and the listlessness of fear. I continuously grasp for moments that comfort me with a sense of home and belonging. The sun light at the close of this day, bouncing around this gentle place, is grace to me.

The Running Woooooman

I am seriously contemplating adding a new "Interest" on my Facebook profile: running.

It's true. I've stuck with it for two months. I've gone from running in back allies (so no one could see me, of course) to running on empty streets (so I could limit the number of people who might see me) to full on running at Trout Lake with all the crazy dogs who aren't on leash (where some of their sexy owners have even said "hi" as I ran past . . . well, ok, maybe that just happened once).

I guess it's good to stick with this whole exercise thing a little longer than I used to.

White guy rapper + too much beer = pretty funny sight

Have you ever had a young looking 30 year old drink too much, swoop over to your table at a fine dining establishment, and start strangely hitting on you by saying, "You have nice teeth . . . you're cute . . . I like your nose piercing . . . it's like Tupac . . . I love Tupac he's like my favourite . . . I'm a rapper you know . . . I'll make up a rap for you right now . . ."?

I have.

4th Fest

MY 29th BIRTHDAY

Pretending I'm a Vegt: Kristi Vegt, Paulina Vegt, me, and Mel Vegt.

Friends: Jennifer, Jonathan, Lisa, me, Louanne.

Lisa said she made this mint choc cake with more love than skill. I think it was lovely and delicious.

2 nomads: Angie and I (notice that Kasha made it to the party by way of photo in the background)

It's my birthday week!

My birthday week started off most wonderfully. One of my dearest friends, Holly Duke, met up with me in the fishing community of Steveston, BC. We went for a slow bike ride along a flat gravel road, ate fish and chips by the boats, and savoured ice cream scooped into fresh waffle cones. What perfect fun.

This one goes out to the mom I love

Mom:

I'm still eating these crazy hotdogs that you left in my freezer at THANKSGIVING. Thinking of you!

Love,
Bobbi

The thing I like most about running is . . .

when it is over.

Surrounded by Poetry

I am anticipating a summer of poetry, being outside, and going on 3 dates (I may need help with that last one). I am kicking off my summer o' poetry this spring with a Sylvia Plath book I picked up at Companion Book on Hastings in Burnaby. I have been drawn to Plath's poetry since reading "Tulips" in my writing poetry class at Regent last summer. This is the poem I read this morning; it's been following me around ever since.

THE APPLICANT
by Sylvia Plath

First, are you our sort of a person?
Do you wear
A glass eye, false teeth or a crutch,
A brace or a hook,
Rubber breasts or a rubber crotch,

Stitches to show something's missing? No, no? Then
How can we give you a thing?
Stop crying.
Open your hand.
Empty? Empty. Here is a hand.

To fill it and willing
To bring teacups and roll away headaches
And do whatever you tell it.
Will you marry it?
It is guaranteed

To thumb shut your eyes at the end
And dissolve of sorrow.
We make new stock from the salt.
I notice you are stark naked.
How about this suit ---

Black and stiff, but not a bad fit.
Will you marry it?
It is waterproof, shatterproof, proof
Against fire and bombs through the roof.
Believe me, they'll bury you in it.

Now your head, excuse me, is empty.
I have the ticket for that.
Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.
Well, what do you think of that?
Naked as paper to start

But in twenty-five years she'll be silver,
In fifty, gold.
A living doll, everywhere you look.
In can sew, it can cook,
It can talk, talk, talk.

It works, there is nothing wrong with it.
You have a hole, it's a poultice.
You have an eye, it's an image.
My boy, it's your last resort.
Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.

Missed Connections

This could have almost been my PostSecret . . . almost.

Joy in the little things (or big things when you buy them at Costco)

I spent the last 6 months thinking about making a big purchase: a MAC computer. Everyone I know who has a MAC loves it and assures me that I will too. Amazingly, I have never owned my own computer so I thought this would be a perfect match. Last week I took the plunge and ordered a refurbished beauty online at the Apple store. Man, I was excited. I was so excited that I took a study break last night to drive over to the my place of work, where it had been delivered, to pick it up.

I brought it home.

I plugged it in.

I saw the little light blinking and thought, "That little light is the heartbeat of my very own computer."

I opened it up and admired its shiny goodness.

I turned it on.

It did not turn on. I tried again . . . and again . . . and again: nothing but a dead black screen.

And in fact, that is what Apple told me today - it was DOA (and there are no replacements of this refurbished model, so I will have to order a brand new one and spend a bit more money - gross).

I am currently working at healing these let-down blues and working up the courage to order again. In the meantime I have got the motherload of ALMOND BUTTER from Costco and I eat a bit of it everday with an apple - this gives me joy and by the size of the jar I know it will last a long, long time.


A dose of disappointment and some joy that will last.

On the Fringe at Regent

I spent two semesters at Regent with these fun friends. Amazingly, Matt, the lone fellow in the pics, is a California connection. I worked with his fun sister, Marlene, at my church in California. Last summer he worked there and hung out with some of the students I know and love. It's a small, wonderful world.

My Buns

Fresh out of the oven: hot cross buns just like my mom used to make them every Easter. Except, when I called my mom to get her recipe (which was my Grandma Salkeld's recipe) she told me to "guess" and "just add enough flour until it's right". Sadly, my baking skills are still reaching for that kind of confidence. I opted for hot cross buns the Joy of Cooking way; meanwhile, my sister - who has been baking up Grandma's goodies for years - made them them mom's way. Mine were good, but not quite good enough. Take a look at Kasha's buns. Now those are nice buns.

Bridge to Terabithia

The movie is great, too (see below post for comments about the book). It's stylish, honest, emotional, funny, and imaginative. I loved it especially because I work with students who are the age of the main characters, but I think it would be enjoyable for everyone - young and old - who love beautiful film.

My favourite part:

The kids are riding back from church in the box of a pick-up truck; beautiful scenery is whisking past them on a sunny day. Jesse (the main boy character), May Belle (his bratty little sister), and and Leslie (Jesse's new BFF who is a girl who runs faster than all the boys) get talking about the Bible. Leslie is a kid who hasn't spent any time in church or had much interaction with the Jesus story. May Belle tells Leslie that if she doesn't believe in the Bible then she'll be damned to hell. Leslie looks around, wide-eyed and beautiful, opens up her arms to the world and replies: "I think God is too busy making all of this to damn people to hell."

Other favourite part:

"Free the pee! Free the pee! Free the pee!"

Bridges

Yesterday I finished reading Bridge to Terabithia; today I'm going to see the movie with some of my students. I forgot how enjoyable it is to read children's literature. I always find myself wondering, "How would I be different if I would have read this book when I was young?" And though I'm not a child anymore, I still find this story expanding and taking up room in the places of my memory and in my hope for humanity.

Out of Body into Music Heaven

On Monday my good friend Lisa and I went to Seattle for a little shopping, a little visiting, and a little road tripping. Our primary destination was the Patty Griffin concert. When we were leaving the concert Lisa turned and asked me, "Are you in a state of bliss?" I replied, "I'm so sad it's over." If you don't know Patty, it's time you meet her.

Rain Gear

I've lived in Vancouver for 3 years now. Yesterday I purchased a real umbrella. You know the type: it's got a curved handle, could double as a walking stick and a weapon (which may in fact come in handy when I'm strolling through these East Van streets at night), and it won't flip inside out with the slightest breeze. This purchase and the simple joy it brings me has got me thinking . . . Is Vancouver me? Am I Vancouver? Though I still find that these gorgeous mountains get in the way of my view of the sky (O! Land of Living Skies), I do believe that this wet climate and this sea side living is seeping into my soul.

I wonder if Josh Ritter might want to marry me

Tonight as I drove home from work along Kingsway I relived the Josh Ritter concert I went to last week with my friends Chris and Sarah. I played "Monster Ballads", track 3 on The Animal Years, over and over again and again. There's something about "Monster ballads in the stations of the cross / Sighing just a little bit" that catches in my imagination. And I got thinking: JR and I would make one fine couple. He could sing his poetry to to me and we'd read books together. And that, friends, is all the romance I'd need.

Some thoughts about the work I do

Last weekend's Vibrant Girls' Retreat.


Last weekend's Tough Enough Guys' Retreat.



I work with students. Preteens, in fact. And these students . . . they're maniacs. But after all the mayhem, at the end of a Friday small group night, I still have huge love in my heart for them. I see that in the little moments big things can happen. Moments like these.

Tonight I sat around a booth with grade 6 girls and we built a city of Play Doh. It had a downtown core, a bit of suburban sprawl, and a beautiful royal blue river around it. While I breathed in a smell of my childhood I hoped these girls would remember that it's good to play, to create, and to welcome others into a circle.

On the other side of the behavior spectrum, later in my youth night, I busted a bunch of grade 7 boys having a shoe fight (perhaps it was more like a life-flashing-before-one's-eyes war) in one of the classrooms. I could tell by the skid marks ON THE WALL, the hole in the drywall, and the smell that punched me in the face when I opened the door that they had been at for quite a while.

Upon getting busted by "Pastor Bobbi" there was an instant hush, but still a lot of snickering. I flashed them the "Bobbi's TICKED" look and after about 5 minutes of cleaning up the chairs which they had turned into protective barricades I explained to them this: the walls of this church didn't just appear; people give of their money so that we can have a church; when we can't stop our fun to realize that we're ruining things that aren't ours (and dare I say God's?) something has gone really wrong.

And you know, I think some of them got that. Without my nudging they went about looking for a way to get the scuff marks off the wall. And even though it didn't work, they left youth tonight with a few bowed heads and even some genuine apologies. I think that this moment too - in it's destruction and annoyance - was redeemed. For a moment these guys had to stop and consider something beyond themselves.

I'm resting tonight (once I finally wind down) knowing that these gloriously simple, and even a bit trying, moments were sparkling with the sacred.

On Beauty and a Case of the Uglies

A couple of weeks ago I finished reading a Zadie Smith book: On Beauty. It was a delicious read that was not afraid to portray the dark side of beauty and the tendency people have to be seduced by the side of beauty that destroys. Real beauty - the kind that lasts and gives life - can be lost in the glaring light of what captures our attraction on a trivial level. Laying claim on that deeper beauty can take a hell of a lot of work once one has been content to play in the shallow waters of trivial beauty.

Last night my friend and I went to a cd release party here in Vancouver. As we walked back through the empty streets we talked about attraction, art, the search for peace, and annoying disco balls that leave a person's eyes hoping to be soothed by darkness. When two people spend some time talking about attraction the question inevitably comes to this biggie: what do you think is attractive? This question always stumps me, but it's not always for noble reasons. I'm afraid that I lose touch with my own beauty and in that, I lose touch with the beauty in others because I've traded in a deeper version of myself for a version that cares more about how my overbite leaps out of my profile or how my hair just doesn't have the same lift as it did a few days ago.

I'm home sick today and my puffy eyes are searching out beauty. The sky outside is layered in lumpy clouds of grey and it's beautiful. The new Patty Griffin cd playing (for the 4th time today) is pull-emotions-to-the-top-of-the-skin beautiful. The lingering smell of curry left after dinner with my friend last night is beautiful. My hands around a hot cup of tea are beautiful. The scruffy homeless man who shoved a bag of M & M's into his pocket early this week at the Skytrain station is beautiful. I believe that this beauty leads me to the One who made all of this. And though I have a heck of a time with faith some days, today I'm leaning into this beauty and hoping God will give me eyes to see and ears to hear . . . what's that? That I am beautiful and all of this is beautiful.

Things I Like: #8

I think I'm falling in love with Todd Snider.

He's a singer-songwriter found under the categories of Americana/alt-country/folk. His storytelling songs are full of sharp honesty and raw humour. Sometimes it's the kind of humour where I find myself thinking "I can't believe he just said that!"; it's wonderfully frank. His latest album - The Devil You Know - is found on many "Best of 2006" lists. I like lists like this because I always find some new friends there as another year rolls in.

Take a listen here or here.

Things I Like: #7

I like POTATOES.

Yummy, lovely potatoes.

I found this recipe in my gmail "sponsored link". I made them tonight and they were tasty.

Black Pepper and Lime Oven Fries

1 1/2 pounds small potatoes, cut into wedges
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
sea salt
freshly ground pepper
1 lime
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese, grated

Preheat oven to 375, oven racks in the middle.

In a medium bowl toss the potato wedges with the olive oil, a few big pinches of sea salt and five or six cranks of the pepper grinder. Arrange the potatoes cut side down on a baking sheet. Place in the oven for 30-35 minutes, tossing the potatoes with a metal spatula half way through.

While the potatoes are baking, zest the lime and cut it into a few wedges.

When the potatoes are cooked through, remove them from the oven, taste, and adjust the seasoning. Add more salt and pepper to taste (don't skimp on the pepper!). Serve in a big shallow bowl, or on a platter, drizzled with lime juice and dusted with the lime zest and Parmesan.

Things I Like: #6

I like Johnny Cash.


I have blips of Johnny Cash music in my childhood memories. Yesterday I was listening to JC as the rain fell outside. The images cast in my imagination from the song "Man in Black" followed me around all evening and into today:

Man in Black
By Johnny Cash

Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black

Be refreshed by JC's honest tunes and creative storytelling in music here.

Things I like: #5

I like a London Fog on a damp winter's night.

Things I Like: #4

GEORGE STROUMBOULOPOULOS. I didn't dig George at first, but I now think The Hour is one of the greatest ways to end the day.

Things I Like: #3

Jian Ghomeshi is coming back to CBC Radio 1 with an afternoon arts show. Ooooooo! I can hardly wait. I love him.

Things I Like: #2

FRIENDS who sense what is going on inside after only a few sentences are spoken.

Things I Like: #1

I like to take long walks on cold days.

These are the people in my family

Edmonton Christmas vacation/Glenn and Linda Salkeld family reunion

I've been listening to the same cd for the last 5 hours

While in Edmonton last week for the holidays my sister and I tracked down the new Ray LaMontagne cd Till the Sun Turns Black. I've been listening to it over and over again today while finishing up a really good book. There's a concert linked from his website to the NPR site and now I'm pretending like I'm there. You should try it if this NPR article description appeals to you:

Singer, songwriter and guitarist Ray LaMontagne makes mellow, sometimes dark, poetry songs that are part folk, part soul, with warmly textured atmospherics.

If it weren’t for cigarettes I think I'd be a smoker

A few years ago my friend was visiting from out of town. At some point in our conversation she told me why she started smoking in university. She explained that she needed to escape the snooty students in her program and she found real camaraderie in the smoker circle.

I wish churches had smoker circles. I think I'd hang out there.

Smokers: I watched them one day a few weeks back. I was traveling on a four stop red eye flight to Cincinnati. As I waited for one of my flights I watched as smokers gathered in the designated smoking rooms. I sat alone in the clean air waiting for my flight to board. The smoker filed into the brownish fog, sat down, lit up, took the first drag and soon after started into conversation with a smoker stranger.

I'm craving some smoker community. The kind where I can sit down, not be so concerned about how together I am (or am not), and where just as simply as breathing I invite others to do the same.

Props

Sometimes you really don't know what the outcome will be. This is especially true in youth ministry.

I'm a planner. I like to make plans. I like to imagine my plans playing out and sit back later and reflect, "Indeed, those were fine plans."

The students I work with remind me that no matter how I envision an experience, it's likely, in actuality, to be absolutely nothing like what I imagined.

Tonight at youth I gave the FUSE groups (small groups) chunks of the Luke 1-2 passage from The Message to creatively communicate to the rest of the group. Off they went to be creative and strengthen the bonds of relational ministry. They seemed excited; I anticipated success.

The first group up was one of the guys' groups. They began with some strange drug reference (Where the heck did they get that???? Not to mention that they are in GRADE 7!). Next came the oranges. One of the fellas put two Mandarin oranges up to his scrawny frame. He was playing the part of Elizabeth (Zechariah's wife and mother of John the Baptist) and those fine oranges became boobs.

Wait! Those were not my plans! Though, I had to give the buddy some credit for keeping it real and being true to the not-so-G-rated way of the Bible. And still, there's more.

One of the students yelled out from the audience, "Hey, those are too low!"

Mr. Oranges-for-boobs declared, "No they're not. I'm old."

I liked this movie

I saw the new Pedro Almodóvar film staring Penelope Cruz this weekend - Volver - and I, unlike my fellow moviegoer, truly enjoyed it. Half way through the film my friend leaned over and said way too loudly, "This is weird." I said, "Learn how to whisper." I then went back to wrapping myself up in the world of this fine foreign film.

I enjoyed this film for its dark comedy, rich relationships, family dynamics, mystery, and colourful landscape. I absorbed themes of loyalty, love, revenge, secrets, death, and community. The film focuses on women who are connected in family and the people who are connected to them in the peripheral spaces.

I read this fine review at Salon.com

It's not a film for everyone, but then again maybe it should be.