help!

I can only find 20 - can anyone find more??

There are thirty books of the Bible in this paragraph. Can you find them? This is a most remarkable puzzle. It was found by a gentleman in an airplane seat pocket, on a flight from Los Angeles to Honolulu, keeping him occupied for hours. He enjoyed it so much, he passed it on to some friends. One friend from Illinois worked on this while fishing from his john boat. Another friend studied it while playing his banjo. Elaine Taylor, a columnist friend, was so intrigued by it she mentioned it in her weekly newspaper column. Another friend judges the job of solving this puzzle so involving, she brews a cup of tea to help her nerves. There are some names that are really easy to spot. That’s a fact. Some people, however, will soon find themselves in a jam, especially since the book names are not necessarily capitalized. Truthfully, from answers we get, we are forced to admit it usually takes a minister or scholar to see some of them at the worst. Research has shown that something in our genes is responsible for the difficulty we have in seeing the books in this paragraph. During a recent fund raising event, which featured this puzzle, the Alpha Delta Phi lemonade booth set a new sales record. The local paper, The Chronicle, surveyed over 200 patrons who reported that this puzzle was one of the most difficult they had ever seen. As Daniel Humana humbly puts it, “the books are all right here in plain view hidden from sight.” Those able to find them will hear great lamentations from those who have to be shown. One revelation that may help is that books like Timothy and Samuel may occur without their numbers. Also, keep in mind, that punctuation and spaces in the middle are normal. A chipper attitude will help you compete really well against those who claim to know the answers. Remember, there is no need for a mad exodus. There really are 30 books of the Bible lurking somewhere in this paragraph waiting to be found. Good luck!

the one, the only, TOQUE!

This post is for our woefully uneducated American friend who commented on the Calvin and Hobbes post.

The Toque (not Togue) is a word we stole from the French, and it refers to the knit brim-less hats we Canadians wear so that we don't lose our ears (and brain cells) in the frigid north. Actually, even when it's not that cold out, people often wear thinner toques as a fashion statement. I personally own about 5 in different shapes and colors. Let me show you my gallery!



This is the first toque I owned. I was quite proud of it. See that I am holding onto a variant on the pompom that traditionally tops the hat. It's on a string. This toque is lined with fleece so it's very warm.










This is my classy toque. I wear it with my white
scarf and black coat when I need to make a REAL fashion statement. :)













My personal favorite - the cute and the green.
An excellent choice for those not-so-cold days when you just don't feel like doing your hair. Note the absence of the traditional pompom.











This one actually has a variant on the traditional pompom - it's a fancy little knit do-dad on the top, although you can't see it in this particular shot. I don't usually wear this one because its loose knit doesn't help a lot, and as you can see, it's a bit big for my head. :) It makes it hard to see the polar bears when they are on the sidewalk in front of me.





This is the toque I use when I'm going for function over attractiveness. Notice you don't get to see my face - that's because it gets all squished up in this one. But I can't deny that it is extremely good at keeping me warm. I'm not sure if it's classified as an actual toque though, because of the ear flaps. My dad has one like this and gets teased constantly.




That's all folks! Perhaps next summer I will show you my assortment of hats that don't belong to the toque family. :)

Check out the official wikipedia definition of the greatest winter invention ever!

am i a nerd?

So I got 85% on my piano exam. Which is ok I guess, since I wasn't playing at all for about 4 years, and then tried desperately to pick it up again in 4 months. Perhaps it's the loser in me, but I've never really been satisfied with anything less than 90 in anything. It's okay, but I certainly don't get excited about it.

am i a nerd?

what do the polls say?

nonsense

i'm tired of wearing 4 shirts everytime i get out of bed. i'm tired of wearing mitts and toques and boots. i'm ready for skirts, flip-flops, and tank tops. because of this, this is what i'd like to do, just for fun. i've got cabin fever.

prayer

1) For those of you who are pray-ers, please pray for my friend's sister - she's in the hospital right now being treated for flesh-eating disease on her leg - it's VERY infectious and life-threatening.

2) Do you think God answers our prayers outside of time? For example, I was praying for a friend's pregnancy for a while, because she has a history of miscarriages and the child she does have is a miracle. Anyway, I found out a couple weeks later that she was out of the danger zone before I even found out about the pregnancy. So did God answer my prayers before I even prayed them, or did He just ignore them as being uninformed??

yet another adventure

So this morning I was digging through my purse, taking out all the loose papers. I came to a white piece of paper, folded in quarters. Naturally, I opened it up, and on it was written "Justin" with an arrow pointing to a phone number! I wracked my brain trying to figure out if I had been talking to someone named Justin who wanted to volunteer at church, but nothing came to the surface. My closest guess is that either I accidentally picked up someone else's paper when I was picking up my wallet, or that someone stuck it in there on purpose! I checked the phone number on the internet and it does exist, and the number belongs to a house that is actually quite near my church. Weird. So here's the question - should I try calling the number just to quell my curiousity? Or should I just leave it and have it be yet another weird story in the life of me? Tell me what you think!

ick

A man whacked me on the butt yesterday. It was someone I knew. That was VERY uncomfortable. And now I'm all stressed trying to figure out why he did it - maybe he thought for a moment that I was one of his daughters (who are my age). Any other explanation leaves me with a weird twisty-comfortable-violated feeling in my gut.

it IS possible

So I discovered today that a friend of mine actually has fallen off the chairlift at a ski hill...and yes, it was waaaay up in the air.

eep.

a true Canadian Christmas

THE solar house - the thing on the right is the solar panel









white and green





















global warming? not here!















this picture reminds me of Winnie the Pooh - don't know why











but the sun still shines
















the animals in the live nativity didn't appreciate
me taking pictures of them...















the only true Canadian mode of transportation - showshoes! who needs one of them car things anyway?

Presenting The One, The ONLY...

...cleaning machine that actually works!

I tried the broom
I tried the mop
I tried the dishcloth on the floor
I tried the swiffer sweeper
I tried the swiffer wet jet


But none of them can compare to the One, The Only...

Toothbrush 2000 (model XLS)! It not only cleans those hard to reach places in your pot lids, but also gets that rubbed-in grime on your lino. It takes old pee stains off the baseboards (yes, the previous tenants were of the male variety). It cleans those hard-to-reach crevaces wherever there is a crevace that is hard to reach! And wonder of all wonders, you can also use it to brush your teeth (although having 2 separate toothbruth 2000s is highly recommended).


FINE PRINT: THIS MODEL IS NOT RECOMMENDED FOR ORAL USE.

Part II

After inspecting the teens in stubborn silence, Mother invited them in. But underlying her welcoming words lay the disposition of a surprised snake, ready to strike.

The teens walked through the house to the kitchen. The smell of warm baking met their noses as they sat at the table. Would you care for some hot cocoa, asked Mother. Yes please, if it's not an inconvenience, they replied. Oh, no inconvenience at all, was her response, although her voice was high-pitched from strain.

The kitchen was quiet except for the clattering of mugs and spoons being brought out of their dark homes. Father looked at daughter, daughter looked at brother, brother watched all with patient indifference. No one looked at the Other. Mortified at the silence his presence seemed to have brough on the family, he watched the daughter's hands as she tugged at her hair.

Suddenly, her Father broke the silence.

"So...how were your exams?"

His daughter's face smiled with relief at this normal question, and her mouth unleashed a chipper soliloquy worthy of a great actress. And indeed she did act, for her words seemed hollow and senseless to her. As her lips moved, her thoughts were elsewhere, until she suddenly fell silent mid-sentence.

Her Father looked at her expectantly and asked another question. She saw his lips move but didn't hear his words, for the words in her head were far louder and insisted on being heard. He repeated the question, triggering the offensive snake in his wife to strike.

"Can't you see that she's thinking? For God's sake Father, leave her alone for once. Why do you have to shove your expectations on all of us?"

Her husband's face tensed and his eyes narrowed. His voice had heavy overtones of sarcasm, as if he knew exactly where to push his wife.

"MY expectations Mother? I'd say that's the pot calling the kettle black, dear."

"Why can't you just keep your loud mouth shut darling, and let us live in peace for once!" She let out a short scream of intense frustration and rushed upstairs, leaving the water kettle whistling its high, mono-pitched tune.

Those left in the kitchen stared at the spot where Mother had been standing. He daughter got up to pour the hot water. Her son lifted his right shoulder in a shrug, as if the other shoulder couldn't even bother anymore. It had shrugged off too many harsh words, and had now learned that it was best to stay in place to protect the heart. His shield of indifference was impenetrable, or so it seemed to his sister. She had been away too long, forgetting what home was like. She sat back down at the quiet table and joined the men in suddenly caring deeply which way the grain of the wood went.

"Your cocoa is getting cold." The young man stared unblinkingly at her cup as he broke the silence. She gave him a smile, but one that was as similar to her regular joyful visage as the dark side of the moon is to the brightest summer afternoon. He mentally whipped himself for having suggested they come here.

Her Father watched his face. Obviously this kid didn't realize that the cold war was not yet over in this household. he prayed that this might be the Christmas that hope arrived. It would take the Mighty hand of an outsider, but mabye this year it would happen and they would have some lasting peace. Peace. What he wouldn't give for just a moment of true peace. True, he hadn't exactly been the model of a patient and loving husband, but who could be? Not after marrying a witch.

Mother lay facedown amongst the pillows on the bed she had shared for 22 years. Why did he have to be so insufferably perfect to everyone except her? She knew she often nagged like a leaky faucet, and sometimes she turned the full blast of her scorching anger straight onto her husband. But he should expect that with his attitude. He even seemed to not care that their precious baby gift had brough home a boy. And what kind of accent was it that he had? Not that she was a racist, but her little girl deserved the best.

Realizing that her re-entrance into their lives was causing an extra onslaught of anger between her parents, their daughter felt intense pain, burning deep into her belly. They were crushing each other, and she had made the situation worse. Without thinking, she allowed an abbreviated gasp of pain to leave her lungs. But this was no ordinary empathy pain. It felt like red hot knives were piercing her abdomen.

All male eyes at the table looked ather in concern, eyes that narrowed in tandem as the pink in her cheeks made a hasty exit. She shook her head slowly, blinking quickly, gripping her mug of cocoa.

You heavens above, rain down righteousness;
let the clouds shower it down.
Let the earth open wide,
let salvation spring up,
let righteousness grow with it;
I, the LORD, have created it.

- spoken through Isaiah the prophet

PART I

Smoke puffs drifted idly from the chimney, giving the impression of a haven of peace amongst the suburban sprawl. But the impression was a false one, for there was only a facade of peace in this household. As the sky reluctantly released its dancing crystalline treasures, the family was reluctantly admitting two travel weary teenagers into their cozy home.

Mother scowled relentlessly at the young man as he tentatively stepped over the threshold. What right did he have to accompany her daughter to their family Christmas celebrations? He stared back at her, with emotions a mixture of belligerence and terror. What kind of person was she?

Father eyed his daughter as she awkwardly stepped out of her shoes, unwilling to let go of the young man’s hand. What was their relationship? She had always been a quiet child, albeit with a hint of stubbornness underlying her sweetness. Avoiding his eyes, she chose instead to look around at the familiar furnishings and festive decorations. It looked like home to her, yet it felt strangely cold. What had changed? A nervous shiver began at the bottom of her spine and moved up her body, embracing her in its chill. Her hand clasped his more tightly as she struggled to keep her fear from showing through her trembling limbs. Her other hand went into her jacket pocket, as if by habit.

anomalies

Yes, this is a tomato...from my garden...it's a bit mutated.

















Remember Gary Larson's Far Side cartoons? I'm sure there was one somewhere about a guy looking at a cow and seeing it all carved up into different pieces of meat. So this is my version of that - a steak that is practically moo-ing still! And yes, if you push the nose, it does moo.














mmm, pretty fog.

the pursuing

It dances dryly in the wind, its sun-dried edges slowly cracking. Slowly swirling on a sullen breeze, the leaf has little life of its own. But in an instant, the air becomes alive, crackling with life. Another golden leaf rises up in the wind to create a teasing partner in the airborne tango. It flits away, whirling and spiralling until the other becomes dizzy with excitement. Taking advantage of a momentary rallentando in the breeze, it returns the favor by pursuing its teasing partner, almost catching up. But the gentle wind causes them to twist and roll, and it encircles them as the pursuer tries unceasingly to be united with that which it cannot catch. Around and around and upwards they spin, the pursued staying just out of reach of the pursuer. Close enough to taste and see, but far enough to be mysterious and exciting.


"We are strangely rewarded: we feel gratitude and love, humility and wonder, reverence and awe, adventure and homecoming. We shout hallelujah, and we weep tears of joy. So we pursue it all the more until the end when we find it has been pursuing us and we are caught up into the Pursuer we have so long pursued." (Brian McLaren, a Generous Orthodoxy)