Toronto

The hubby and I lived in Toronto for 13 years altogether. We knew the music industry jobs were there, so it was a practical move. I visited again yesterday to pick up the hubby’s Christmas gift.

Toronto is misunderstood by the rest of Canada. It is easy and common for people to say they hate Toronto – the big city. But Toronto certainly has its charms, and there are other cities in which we have lived that pale by comparison. And, I will say that, to visit Toronto is different than living there. I will say that I really dislike the Toronto traffic. However, given it has the reputation as being the most congested city in North America, I’m usually willing to cut it some slack.

Over the course of its history, Toronto has grown and expanded, absorbing smaller towns and villages along the way. We lived in a number of different locations within the city and came to understand that the small-town atmosphere remained within the large city. For instance, we lived in Weston for a while. What a nice little place. We found almost everything we needed in the neighbourhood and got to know local people and merchants. The pizza guy knew our order, as did the fish and chip place. The butcher at the grocery store saved certain cuts for us, and we made friends with people in our apartment building. It was a nice place to live. The same held true in Little Italy, and Little Pakistan, although Scarborough was a little less friendly.

However, using public transit or walking the streets downtown is a different matter. People don’t talk to one another, and they all look like they have places to go and people to see, and you’d better not bother them. However, if you have a question – say you need directions – they will happily help you. Having tested this theory, the same cannot be said in Hamilton, London, or Brantford. If you don’t know your way around, you’re an outsider, and they are not very willing to help. In Toronto, most people are originally from somewhere else, and they know how tough it can be to get around at first so, in sympathy for the visitor’s plight, they help.

And there is a broadening of experience over a range of different people and cultures. Some have said, possibly erroneously, that Toronto is the most culturally diverse city in the world. It certainly is diverse. And when you get used to seeing faces of different colours, and clothing of different cultural styles, you become accustomed to it and it is missed when it’s not there. In Toronto, diversity is embraced and the general attitude is one of learning about different cultures and sampling it, particularly the food. In Toronto, “different” isn’t treated with suspicion – rather, it is appreciated. There is still bigotry in Toronto, but it is more difficult to find than in many smaller cities across Canada. I like that.

Until next time, appreciate the beauty in the differences God has made…

Discouragement

It’s hard sometimes to not get discouraged. 2009 has been a challenging year for me. Just to refresh your memory, on New Year’s Day, I contracted a stomach bug. Once my digestive system gets upset, it takes a very long time to settle again. In the past couple of months, things have gotten better, however, I’ve lost 23 lbs throughout the year. And then there is the corn allergy. It has become more aggressive and it was this year that I discovered I can’t even eat corn-fed meat! I buy from a supplier of organic meat (the antibiotics used in animal feed has always bothered me) and most of her meat is not corn-fed, and she is trying to ensure that I can always trust her meat. Right now, I can’t eat the turkey or chickens from her market, or any of the game meats which I love. And recently she signed on a new supplier for beef that uses corn in the feed, so I can’t trust it as completely as either of us would like. I’ve heard of grass-fed meat and I may look into that. I miss chicken!

This weekend was yet another migraine weekend because of corn. I haven’t been to church for three of the past four Sundays. There is no warning when I eat the food either. I’m getting pretty discouraged about all this disruption to my life. In testing eggs from three different organic markets, I discovered they all use corn in the feed, so I went with the supermarket “free-range” eggs. This has worked for about a year. I sometimes had a mild response to the antibiotics, but at least they didn’t use corn. And I eat a LOT of eggs. I bought eggs in my latest grocery run, and had some for lunch on Friday. I noticed the yolks were a deeper yellow, but didn’t think much of it. Well, that’s because the farmer has started feeding the chickens corn! Three-day migraine, coming up! So, currently, I have no safe source for eggs, and that discourages me. Yet another food off my list. This year, I have discovered I can no longer eat peppermint, basil, or turnip. Now eggs too? Each time I have a migraine, I generally can’t eat for one day at least. No wonder I have not regained any weight. I was at my ideal weight before this loss.

So, this year has been challenging. I’ve been dealing with some heavy emotional issues brought about by my abusive childhood, have had these digestive issues, and (this is a good thing) been doing much more this year than in times past. However, I overdid it in November and sapped my delicate energy levels. I’ve had to pull back from activities to be able to recover. Thankfully, my energy levels are recovering reasonably quickly.

And through all of this, I have grown closer to God. Especially while dealing with the emotional issues, He feels so close to me. I know He is always close to me whether I “feel” it or not. But it is very encouraging to feel like He is wrapping Himself around me to comfort me during particularly difficult emotional times. He shows me in His Word what He wants me to know. He directs my life, bringing things into it to aid in my healing. I haven’t always been obedient to His calling and direction – sometimes through rebellion and sometimes through procrastination. Especially with the rebellion, when He gives me another answer as to why He asked me to obey in such a way, I can’t help but repent and ask for forgiveness. I know I am forgiven – yet further comfort. It has become easier to submit to His Will when I start to see His plan. Watching what He has done in my life recently – and over the long term too – I completely trust that He knows what He is doing, and it adds to my patience.

What does 2010 hold for me? I have no idea! I’m sure praying and hoping there will be healing of my digestive concerns, that I can find better ways to avoid corn, that I can regain the 20 lbs, that I can be done with this current round of emotional processing of my past, and that my energy levels will rebound enough again to be able to do more. I’ve been trying to find part time work too, but nothing has worked out. And with the way the past two months have gone, I’m not sure “work” is the answer. Maybe I could find an income-producing outlet for my writing. That is the one thing I have done continuously throughout this year, even though my blog doesn’t entirely reflect that. Whatever God has planned for me, I know it will be better than all I can hope or imagine! Eph. 3:20-21.

Until next time, rest in Him who blesses you…

Christmas Music

With the beginning of Advent, things change around our house, as I’m sure it does in many homes. We decorate the tree on the First Sunday in Advent. Actually, we have decorated multiple trees. We have a potted Norfolk Island Pine that’s about 4-1/2-feet tall. It is our main Christmas tree, and we have decorated it with a short string of lights, and some light ball decorations, and icicles. Very pretty. We also have a Ficus, a tropical hibiscus (currently not flowering), and a 3-foot grapefruit tree, each with a few decorations. The hubby has finally accepted all the greenery around our house, and it was his idea to put a few decorations on all these trees. We also have Christmas lamps, candles, and a small, lighted, ceramic nativity. There are lights around the eaves and back fence, a star in the front window, and lights in our bedroom windows. And, generally, we start listening to Christmas music about that time too. We started a little late this year, but yesterday I started to listen to Christmas CDs.

Quite a few years ago, I started to question some of the symbolism of many Christmas “traditions.” I decided to research it for a lesson for my teen Bible class. I was amazed to find the origins of many Christmas symbols – mistletoe, holly, yule log, etc. There is so much that is adopted from paganism. We decided at that time to remove those things from our celebration that did not outright honour God and His gift to us in His Son, Jesus. I discovered that the candy cane, and poinsettia are both symbols of Jesus. Our motivation for doing this is the verse in Hebrews 12:1-2 which says, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.” Even though it’s a small thing, to focus on what actually honours God about our Christmas celebration for us is throwing off the weight that would distract us and divide our attention.

We have done that with our Christmas music collection too. We’ve been given or bought many Christmas collection CDs over the years, and with little exception, they are a mix of Christmas music, winter songs, and songs about Santa. Now, I believe the original legend of St. Nicholas giving gifts anonymously to be true. And, in it’s original manifestation, he was purported to be honouring God by giving free gifts – an example of God’s grace – freely given and undeserved. However, society has turned that Christian story into a non-Christian “weight” that takes the focus off the Saviour of the world. So, we do not honour “Santa” in our Christmas celebration.

I decided that to skip past all the pagan songs on the CDs was annoying and time consuming so I collected all the truly Christian hymns and songs onto four compilation CDs, and now those are the ones I play during Advent and Christmas. Instead of being annoyed that yet another useless song has assaulted my ears, I find my heart uplifted and encouraged by the expression of celebration for the true Christmas event. I don’t know if it makes Christmas any better for us or not. And we’re not militant about it, telling everyone they MUST do as we do. Everyone has the freedom to celebrate however they choose, and God is glorified. We just decided that for us, this was the right thing to do, and we do feel it helps us focus on the true meaning of Christmas.

Until next time, celebrate Christ!

Relative cold

It is my opinion that feelings of coldness are subjective and relative to individual experience. Today, the temperature will not hit the positive side of freezing. I mentioned this to the hubby this morning and we were both a bit discouraged. Then, I remembered the “low” temperatures in Costa Rica are in the 70s F. We have a dream – possibly futile – of retiring to Costa Rica. We would find a breezy location so the extreme heat in the summer would be mitigated. These images give us hope in the dead of a frigid Canadian winter when Arctic winds are pommelling us. Our mortgage is in great shape and, if the hubby lost his job, we’d probably sell the house, pay down the rest of the mortgage, and make immediate plans to move to Costa Rica. Housing there is so much cheaper that, even though our house isn’t worth much in Canada, the value would easily allow us to buy a house outright down there. We dream.

A young man we know was, while in university, a member of, I think it is called, “Athletes for Christ.” One year, their water polo team (maybe it was volleyball – can’t remember for sure) visited Costa Rica and played their national team in mid-February. He said the temperatures were in the mid-70s F, and he and the team dressed in short-sleeved shirts and shorts, thinking this was a wonderful relief from the cold, Canadian temperatures they left. The Costa Ricans were amazed. They wore heavy coats and woolen caps to keep warm! Another friend once told me of a winter tour she took to Florida. One day, she and her friends had worn bathing suits under their street clothes so when they came to the Gulf of Mexico, they would be ready to swim. The Floridians on the tour wondered if my friend was crazy because the water temperature was “only” 60 F. My friend informed them Canadian lake temperatures generally only get “up” to the 60s during the full heat of summer.

My room mate’s aunt once visited from Italy in October. She was appalled when I went outside with wet hair. She was freezing and told me the temperatures here were as cold as it got in January where she lived. She was adamant I should not go outside with wet hair in such temperatures. I would be sick for sure. I asked her if she went outside in October with wet hair. She said yes, and immediately realized what I meant. She didn’t mention it after that. A friend from New Mexico has a romantic view of snow, and says she “loves” it. I’ve invited her to spend even a week in Ontario in January. She has declined the invitation thus far because I think she knows she would suffer unduly and her romantic vision would be shattered.

And yet, there is a Canadian pride in our hardiness. There was an e-mail circulated a few years ago, exaggerating the hardiness of Canadians toward the cold. I can’t remember exact quotes from it, but they went something like, “the ice on the lake is 3 feet thick and the whistling wind freezes your nostrils shut at the first breath. Canadians think it’s about time to wear a light sweater outdoors.” On my walk this morning in the -4 C temperatures with the wind clocked between 50 and 70 kph, I thought of hardiness. Right now, that feels pretty cold. I wore my gloves, and had my hood up when facing the wind. But I know in January during -25 C temperatures with the same wind speeds, I will fondly remember today as being warm. And the temperature here is balmy compared to many other parts of Canada, particularly the far north. I empathize with those immigrants who come from extremely hot countries and decide to relocate to the Canadian prairies in January! For them, in a span of approximately 4 months, they have experienced temperature changes as much as 90 C. Wow! That they stay here at all is a testament to how great they consider the societal experience to be over what they left.

So, today, in Hamilton, the temperature is the coldest we have experienced since Spring, and I know I fondly consider the temperature experience of Costa Ricans. However, I also know it’s going to get colder. It’s all relative.

Until next time, thank God for safety in our society, even as we may pray for warmer temperatures…

My Hair – a Love/Hate Relationship

It seems I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with my hair. It is dark brown, thick, and the only “curl” that can be found is from the three cowlicks. When I was a child, my aunt used to curl it for me using “Tonette” perm kits. I hated the procedure. The chemical stunk and she was always rather rough with the curlers. It did look nice to have some curl in it though. She also used to cut my hair when I needed it. Her lack of skill didn’t seem to deter her. When I was 8, she cut it so short that, when I went to day camp for a week, everyone thought I was a boy. I was NOT pleased. She decided we should have a hair-growing contest to see whose would grow faster. I won. Within a year, it was long enough that, even braided, I could still sit on it – unbraided, it went past my knees. I kept it that way until I was 12, usually in braids. I then had it cut to a length reaching the middle of my shoulder blades and that felt so short. I kept a lock of it for a long time, only throwing it out maybe 10 years ago. I was about 16 when I had it cut to shoulder length, but by the time I was 18, I had it cut short and I haven’t grown it long since.

My face is long and narrow so short hair seems to best complement that shape. However, given my height and slim build, that I don’t wear much jewellery or any make-up, and the recent trend toward unisex design for glasses, I sometimes get confused for a man. This annoys me, even though I can understand why they might be confused. I don’t think I look like a man and, if one paid attention to the lack of facial hair, just for a start, maybe they would figure out I was a woman. Oh well. My burden to bear, I suppose.

In May this year, my hairdresser wanted to cut my hair really short because she thought it would look nice. I let her. A lot of people made positive comments about it, including the hubby, but it made me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t ever remember my hair being so very short. So, I decided it was time to try growing it long again. I’ve tried this a few times before, and it never ends well. At some point, the hair over the ears decides it’s going to “wing.” It sticks straight out from the sides of my face. It’s not from sleeping on it wrong – it just decides to stick out. I can’t do anything with it! I wet it, use hair products, try brushing it tame, but nothing works. When I am tired of looking like a clown, I head back to the hairdresser in defeat.

My hair is stubborn. It is so straight that clips and hair bands fall out. I was matron of honour for my friend’s wedding and they decided the women in the wedding party would all have decorated combs in their hair. I told them it wouldn’t work short of stapling it in place. They finally discovered a combination of three different heavy-hold hair products finally held the comb in place for the wedding, the pictures, and about an hour into the reception. My hair was quite damaged afterward, but at least we all sported a comb for the pictures. If I curl my hair with an iron, it lasts about 2 hours. I tried a crimper for fun once, and that lasted the longest, but it got really hot and damaged the hair. Learning from my brothers’ experiences, I know that perms don’t work either. “It’s not taking so I’m going to use more solution. Uh-oh. It suddenly took.” And then they looked like poodles. So, any shaping for me has to be done in the cutting.

Now that it is growing long again, it is starting to annoy me. It falls into my eyes and bugs me. I’m trying to be patient, and so far, so good. I was getting a little exasperated yesterday and then I discovered some hair wax in the bathroom cupboard. I’ve never liked what it did to my hair when I applied while my hair was still wet. With my hair completely dry yesterday, I decided to give it a try. That is the secret! It’s holding my hair quite nicely without looking plastered to my head or held in an unnatural position. Maybe I’ve finally found the key to growing it long again. When the “wings” appear, I’ll have to see if I can wax them into submission. I now have slightly more hope that I can do this, and the wax has added longevity to my patience. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Until next time, thank God for all the blessings in your life…

Ancestor Pictures

In 1980, there was a man from the US (Ohio, I think) who contacted our family saying he was researching his family tree, and discovered our family was part of it. My grandpa confirmed some of the names in his family. He visited early that July and asked us to tell him our stories, borrowed some pictures, and generally got to know us better. I remember him sitting down with me to have me relate stories and connect the “family dots” to the best of my knowledge. He took some pictures of us, and then went on his way. He stayed in contact with one aunt and I since we were the ones doing genealogy in our family. He finally published his book, but at the time, it was too expensive for me to buy.

He e-mailed a couple of years ago and asked to whom he should return the pictures. I said my aunt and gave him her address. Well, I never followed up, but he never sent them. He contacted me again a few weeks ago and asked again for an address to return the pictures. I gave him ours. Within days this time, I received a parcel and, when I opened it, there were about 100 pictures in the box. I didn’t realize he had so many! I’m going to give them back to my aunt, but first I want to do a high quality scan of them so I have an electronic copy.

The day the parcel arrived, I should have been doing other things, but I had to pause to look at all of these pictures. There is even a picture of my great-great-grandparents! The popular form of photography was invented in 1839 and came into prominent use in the 1880s. Some of our relatives had quite a few pictures taken of themselves, but they were all taken about the same time – a quick check makes me think it was late 1800s. Maybe there was a big family celebration. Most of them are portraits – singular and group. But some also are pictures taken on location – one of a father and his two sons tending horses. There are pictures of family gatherings at someone’s home, and some pictures of just the homes. The most common expression of the people in the pictures is solemn, but I was very pleased to see some pictures of people laughing and having fun. They more accurately reflects the character of my family.

I made some observations of the physical characteristics of the family, and reflected on things I had heard in stories about some of the subjects in the photos. My father’s father was an “H” and his wife (my grandpa’s mother) was an “E.” My father’s mother was an “R.” As was observed recently by one of my friends, it is obvious that I strongly resembled the R side of the family. These pictures are mostly of the H’s, although in my immediate family, of course, one can see some E features too.

The H’s are short, sturdy people! They are broad of shoulder and head. I can’t believe the size of the heads on some of the men – and with big square jaws. I’d say the majority of them are handsome fellows too, and the women, although not beautiful, certainly good looking. One portion of the H’s have straight blond hair (or at least light brown), and strikingly blue eyes – obvious even in black and white photography. Seeing those eyes even to recent generations, I know how blue they must have been. The other portion of the H’s have curly black hair (again, as seen still to recent generations), and deeply brown eyes. In my genetics classes, I was told brown eyes were a dominant trait and would overwhelm the blue-eyed component in future generations. Not so in my family, although the dark hair certainly prevailed. And between the E’s and the R’s, height and slimness won over the short, sturdy H characteristics.

And, even in the solemn poses shown in the portraits, one can see the mischief shining through the faces of these ancestors. I always knew the R’s had a wide streak of mischief in their personalities but, until I made this observation and thought about it, I hadn’t realized it went so far back in the H’s too. So, although I don’t look very much like the people in these pictures, they helped to make me who I am today. The E proficiency with music and the H proficience with mechanical engineering (two patented inventors) has certainly found its way to my personality. Being a mastering engineer in the music industry seems to be the merging of both of those characteristics, and seems to honour who God made them to be.

Until next time, honour your father and your mother…