Was that a light flashing or am I seeing things?

I love thunderstorms!!
I mean, I really really REALLY enjoy them!!
The sudden flash of light across the sky, followed by that deep rumbling thunder that can be felt down in your core!
I guess I have my Dad to blame for that.  He enjoys storms too.  I remember, as a child, growing up in Toronto, we would stand in the doorway during a storm and watch the lightning and then count... one, two, three, four.... boom, the thunder would rumble!  Supposedly, the count would indicate how far away the storm is.   I enjoyed those nights.  I can still almost feel the charge in the air and smell the storm.

Later, as a married woman, I lived in Peterborough, Ontario,  They used to get amazing lightning shows there.  I expect they still do.  My hubby used to take me up to Armour Hill to watch the storm. Spectacular!!  God's light show beats any man-made fireworks show by far!!  Loved those evenings!

Now we live in Newfoundland.  I love Newfoundland... but there are a few things from Ontario that I really miss... Pizza Pizza is one of them...  another is thunderstorms.

Thunderstorms are rare here.  And when they do come, they are fleeting.  A couple flashes of light and maybe some distant thunder.  Not very spectacular.  We do get our share of storms... wind storms, heavy rain... even hurricanes.  But thunder and lightning, not so much.

Twice in my life I have been lying in bed with the thought, "was that a light flashing? Or am I seeing things?"
One of those times was last night...  the other was about 15 years ago.

Hubby and me were asleep in the parsonage of our very first pastoral charge... a very remote, fly-in community on the coast of Hudson Bay.  Our infant son was asleep in his crib.
Something woke me up.  A flash of light?  What!?!  It took a moment or two for the grogginess of sleep to clear.  Yes.  Definitely, a flash of light.  There was someone in our house!!  Taking pictures??  No.  Hubby wake up!!  Wake up!  WAKE UP!!! (hubby is a very sound sleeper)  There is someone in our house!   What!?!

And so we go to investigate.  Turns out two young men had broken into our home.  We confronted them... they yelled a few not so nice words and left.  Funny... I wasn't afraid... just angry at the intrusion.  Perhaps I was too groggy and low on caffeine to have the sense to be afraid.  But all was well... they were gone.

The flashing light you ask?  We discovered the next day that they had stolen my hairspray (they drink it when they can't get their hands on alcohol)...  and some porkchops.  Yes, porkchops.  I had a large tray in the fridge that I had planned to give to a family who had just lost their home in a fire.  The flashing light was the fridge door opening and closing.  I guess our thieves were hungry.
A flash of light... and again last night...

Was that a light flashing?  Or am I seeing things?  Nope, not a dream.  Definitely, a flash of light.  And another... and another!!  A thunderstorm!!!

And so around 3 a.m. I crawled out of bed...  stood in the doorway and watched and listened.  Not much of a storm...  several flashes of light... one or two distant rumblings... but it was enough.

I went back to bed with a smile on my face... filled with happy thoughts of past storms spent with the special people in my life.   And with a big thank you in my heart to God, the best pyro-technician ever!

IneedaCoffeenow!

Pardon me? Did you just ask if I want liquor on my veggies?!?

Three years ago my family packed everything into a u-haul truck, said goodbye to Ontario and moved east... all the way to Newfoundland.
I love Newfoundland.  I love Newfoundlanders.  There are so many things I could write about our experiences living here... and I likely will.  But this evening as I watch the TSN Kraft Celebration tour, on their stop to Clarenville, NL,  what comes to mind is the language of Newfoundland.
There are so many "new" words and phrases that I (a mainlander, a come from away) have had to learn.  I've always had a fascination for words and languages... so having the opportunity to be immersed in Newfanese has been a delight. (the h is pronounced... de-li-Ht)!
Some examples:
a painting that is hanging crooked on the wall is squish
the steps or deck that lead to the house is a bridge
a dock is a wharf
a lake is a pond
a shed down by the water is the store
someone from the mainland is a come-from-away or you could say they're from upalong
if you go fishing you are after cod,  any other "fishing" is trouting

But perhaps the most memorable one for me is liquor.
I was visiting some Newfoundalnd pastors along with a crowd of others.  They were serving us a delicious traditional Newfoundland meal... Jiggs Dinner.
Basically that is a meal of salt beef, potatoes, carrots, turnip and cabbage.  As I went through the buffet line and "took up" my food, I was asked if I wanted liquor on my veggies.
Pardon?  Did you just ask if I want liquor on my veggies?!?  Really??
I didn't ask that question out loud, but I did think it.  Why would anyone want to pour liquor on their vegetables?  I politely said no Thank you.
Later, discreetly, I asked my Newfoundland born and raised husband, what this liquor was.  Vodka?  Whiskey?  Rum??
He laughed.  And laughed.  And laughed some more.  In the most loving way, of course.
He explained, between guffaws, that they were asking if Iwanted pot-liquor on my food.  The drippings... the liquid that the salt beef and veggies were cooked in.

Oh.  (insert sheepish grin here)

IneedaCoffeeNow!

I'm so sorry... but the ice cream melted...

Birthdays have always been a big deal to me.  I'm like a little kid before Christmas when a birthday is coming... my own... my hubby's... especially my kids'!

I'm not one for big, elaborate parties or expensive, extravagant gifts... but I do like to make my family know they are loved and important when their special day comes around.

One of the traditions I started in our home is to decorate the house.  I go overboard with balloons, streamers, banners and more balloons...  and all this decorating happens mysteriously during the night so the birthday person wakes up to a "surprise".  

Last night should have been decorating night for my youngest son's 14th birthday.  Instead, I went to bed early with a migraine headache.  Not one balloon, not a streamer to be seen...  almost!
I was plagued with dreams about decorating all night long and kept waking up thinking about it.    I'll get up early and decorate I'd think,  and then roll  over and go back to sleep.  This went on until 4 a.m.  when I finally gave in to my Mother's heart and got out of bed.  Somehow, half asleep and in the near dark, I got the house decorated.  Ahhh...  now I'd be able to sleep!!  But no!!   now I was wide awake and too excited and giddy about the birthday to sleep.    I did eventually doze off only to be awakened by my husband with the words..."did you get the message from the bakery?  there's a problem with the cake?". "I'm so sorry... but the ice cream melted."

Suddenly, I found myself WIDE awake again!  No cake?!?  Oh no.  Now what will I do?  There HAS to be a cake!!  But my bakery lady is amazing!  Completely out of her control... the ice cream truck delivered melted ice cream...  that meant no ice cream cake...  but my fantastic bakery lady came through... she got up early and made and decorated an amazing cake (not ice cream.... but oh so delish)!!  Crisis averted!

So now, another birthday has come and gone.  My son was so happy.  His smile made it all worth it. And me?  the headache is still there... I am sooo tired.  But I am happy!  Mission accomplished!!  My son KNOWS that he is loved and that he is so very important!!

Happy Birthday!

IneedaCoffeeNow!

Would you pleeeease cut it up for me?

I have a little dog.  My baby dog.  His name is Toby.  He's a five pound mixed breed... about 4 lbs longaired chihuahua mixed with a pound of terrier, poodle and Pomeranian.

My little dog doesn't seem to realize that he's a dog... at least not all the time.  He seems to think he's a cat.  (I know. I know.  A disgrace to all dogs everywhere... dogs need not read further)

He purrs...  he sleeps in the sun... he plays with fabric... and he's finicky...  yes, finicky.

You see, my little dog will not eat out of his dish.  He will sit in front of it and whine until someone (usually me) will come over and scoop out a small amount and place it on the floor in front of his dish.  Not only that but when he gets his favourite wet dog food... he will not eat it until someone (usually me) cuts it up for him.  (it comes in a stew like small bite format already).

And so my Toby will  come to where I am, give me those big brown puppy dog eyes that say...
Would you pleeeeease cut it up for me?  And I do.  I'm well trained.

IneedaCoffeenow!

To blog or not to blog...

To blog or not to blog...  that's the question I threw out there to my online friends.  The response was much like an ad for a certain athletic shoe company...
JUST DO IT.
I've thought about blogging before.  More than once.  More than more than once.   My hesitation has always been...
do I really want to journal publicly?
  But this is not going to be a journal.
It's going to be my musings, often mumblings and yes, even meanderings, on ...   well... just about anything... which brings me back to my original question... to blog or not to blog?
We'll see...

And that, my friends, is Blog #1... and I haven't even had my morning coffe yet!

IneedaCoffeenow!