Day 51: Selling Hope

It's Roll Up the Rim season again.

We usually do our grocery shopping on Friday, so by Thursday of this week, we were all out of coffee. Instead of making an early-morning trip to the Superstore, Nate and I decided to treat ourselves to a Timmy's on the way to work.

When you buy a Tim Horton's coffee during Roll Up the Rim, you're not just buying coffee. You're buying hope.

As your hands curl around that warm paper cup with the "Caution: Hot" warning printed on the side, you can't help but think ... maybe I'm holding a $5000 pre-paid Mastercard ... or a car that I could sell for at least $10 000. By the time I'm done drinking this coffee, all of my problems may have disappeared.

And, of course, they don't. But by then, you're too hopped up on sugar to care.

Mmmm ... white hot chocolate. 

The next day, we still hadn't bought coffee, but I left too late to stop at Tim Hortons. (You know you're in Canada when rush-hour traffic is blocked by a long line of coffee-seeking addicts.)

Instead, I stopped at the Irving in New Maryland.

Inside the store, I was the only one in line for coffee. I got to:
1) choose my own brew (medium, because it has more caffeine)
2) add Vanilla flavor shots
3) throw in a couple of Irish Cream flavoured creamers for no extra charge.

I also got a deal on gum.

The whole purchase set me back two dollars and fifty cents, and I was in and out of there in less time than it would take me to find a parking space at Timmy's.

The Irving coffee was as good, if not better, than Tim Horton's. But it was just coffee.

Not hope.

This got me thinking about how many other products and services are designed to address the voids in our lives - holes that coffee was never meant to fill.

There's the new A&W slogan: "Need a buddy? Try the new buddy burger!" As if a $3 hamburger could ever be your friend.

And the checkers at Walmart: "Did you find everything you were looking for today?"

I always want to reply, "Everything except true joy and eternal happiness. But you don't sell those here, do you?"

As an aside, am I the only one who thought the automated, "Please go to ... BEEP!" was funny?
Probably not.
I noticed they've changed it. 
I used to giggle all the way through the express checkout lane.

We live in the 21st Century - a world where you can have 581 unread messages in your inbox and still feel totally and utterly alone.

(If you know me in real life, don't actually worry. I do have 581 (now 583 ... 584) unread messages, but I'm mostly just lonely for chocolate. So much for Lent. That lasted a whole week and a half!)

A world where we have more than enough ... but still feel hungry. Empty. Unsatisfied.

---

Anyway, enough of that existentialist crap.
(Sorry, Mom, for saying crap.)

On the lighter side, I tried to wash my hands with toothpaste this week (not recommended). I also bribed a cat to come down out of the ceiling with a bag of treats (it worked).

Hole in ceiling is now inaccessible to felines.

I slipped on the ice at least ten times but fell only once. I went to sleep on the couch and woke up covered in dog bowls. I read Diary of a Wombat out loud and watched a small child pick his nose and eat part of it, then wipe the rest on his library book.

I resolved never to read library books while cooking or eating and to buy hand sanitizer to keep in my desk.

I wrote another 500 words in my picture book and practiced sketching faces until my charcoal pencil broke. I responded to many, many replies about the puppies. They aren't even born yet, and we probably have good homes for all of them.

I decided not to buy a milk and a salad for breakfast/lunch and bought a six-pack of gluten-free double-chocolate muffins instead.

Now that's a product I didn't regret buying.
Until today.

Muffins gone.

And the weekend will be too, soon enough.
Enough blogging for today.

Enjoy the sunshine!

Too late.
It's gone already.

But spring is on the way...

Day 44: Rumblings

I woke this morning to the sound of a rather unusual alarm.

You might be thinking, "It's Valentine's Day weekend. Perhaps her husband played romantic music and served breakfast in bed."

No. (Although he did make me a lovely ham roast on the 14th.)

I woke to the sound of vomit.
Vomit has a very distinctive sound.

Cat vomit sounds like this:
Hurk ... hurk ... hurk ... hurk ... speeewwww ... munch-munch-munch.
And then screaming. My screaming. Especially if it's in the heater. Cat puke is really hard to clean out of a heater.

Dog vomit sounds like rocks rumbling in an empty can ... and then BLEAGH at the end.

As I toyed with the idea of climbing out from under the covers to face the light of day, I heard the rumbling.
And then .... BLEAGH.
And Mickey's ear was deposited on the carpet.
And more was deposited on a white quilt.
I'll spare you the description.

Let's just say we both jumped out of bed wide-eyed, alert, and definitely not in the mood for beef stew.

As I was cleaning up the mess, the irony of the whole situation struck me.
A month ago, I worried to the verge of panic about the possibility of the dogs swallowing a plastic bag of cat treats. They hadn't. Today I found out that they had swallowed something. I hadn't worried about it, but it happened just the same.

And then I wondered where Mickey's other ear was.*
And then I had to make a decision.

But it was one of those decisions you have to make the same way over and over and over again for the rest of your life.

I am learning not to worry.

I am a worst-case scenario worrier. I think of the worst thing that could possibly happen ... and then worry that it might. But today I realized that I cannot know - much less control - my future. And if I did, I would probably curl up in a ball and die.

Because life is loss.
Time is a blessing that keeps us from experiencing all pain at once ... and allows us to experience joy.

My future is woven from the fabric of past decisions.
None of which I can undo.
Because I have only been given the present.

If the dogs die ... life will go on.
If more library jobs are cut and I have to go work at Tim Hortons ... life will go on.
If I never sell a single book or piece of artwork ... life will go on.

I can't take back the decision to buy an old house and two new vehicles and renovate an entire floor and give a home to two big (intact) dogs - all in the last calendar year.

But I can live in the present and trust God for the future.

And in the midst of it all, I can hear the rumblings. Rumblings of transformation.

"If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world." - C.S. Lewis

Have a happy Saturday!

At least two of my men are happy.
The other one is probably looking for a nice warm heater to hurk into.

*We had removed Mickey the night before because Sam was ripping him to shreds. Apparently, it wasn't soon enough. I am pretty sure I put the plastic piece from Mickey's other ear in the garbage, but to be honest, I don't know. He's eating and pooping with gusto and seems to be fine ... other than catching a whiff of a neighborhood dog in heat on our walk this morning.

If I ever breed dogs, I will live in the country.
Or I could just join in the howling.

Day 43: Planting Seeds

This will be a short one - more fact than funny - but I felt the need to write:

Some of the seeds I sowed back at the beginning of January (when I was feeling upbeat and motivated) are starting to come to fruition.

1. Joy FM has posted the logo contest entries on PHOTO Scramble. Some of them are simply fantastic! As much as I'd love to claim the $500 prize, I hope that the best logo wins. So many contests that are determined by votes come down to who has the most (or most dedicated) friends. Not gonna lie ... I didn't vote for mine. Today, my favorite is the yellow and purple one with the sun.

2. My first copy of Clubhouse Jr. came in the mail today. I plan to read the articles so I can tailor my submissions to their style and content guidelines. I also borrowed some Christian biographies - and autobiographies - from my mom so I'll have someone to write about. Thanks again, Mom! BTW - Nate needs a haircut. Can we come over?

3. I filled out forms today (uggghh!) so Thriving Family can pay me for my next four book reviews. Not gonna say how much here, but I was very pleased. Let's just say it will pay for our next water bill - which was twice as much as usual, thanks to our ever-running toilet.

4. I finally got to read Zombie in Love to grades 3 through 5 in honor of Valentine's Day. Love it!

5. I put an ad on Kijiji for the Newfie pups. Unless we are really lucky (ie. Sam's little swimmers miraculously didn't get anywhere), they'll be born in mid-April. At least I know how I'll be spending my birthday! We've had a lot of positive responses and hope to find great homes for the pups - and have enough money left over to spay/neuter our two fluffy friends.

Sigh...

6. I cleaned my house last weekend, so this weekend will be mostly laundry, art, and writing! And sorting the huge mountain of clothes in my bedroom. It is the age-old question of the Western woman: How can I have so many clothes and still have nothing to wear?

I have also been making recipe-card sized pen sketches while Nathan watches TV in the evenings. Some of them are turning out alright, so if you'd like one, send me an email at natelisa.robinson@gmail.com with the pic you want me to try drawing. I'll send you a digital copy - and the hard copy if you live in the area.

7. And ... drum roll please ... I got an email from a published author. A best-selling published author. You may remember that 6 weeks ago, I contacted Neil Pasricha, the author of the best-selling book 1000 Awesome Things, with a short composition titled "The Double Snow Day." He said my submission was great, and he had fixed the submission form on his website. Would I submit again? Needless to say, this made me very happy. If he likes it enough, my story could get published on his blog or in his next book.

This weekend, I hope to work on a few more sketches and write the movie review of Ip Man, which I will then submit to Plugged In. I am working off-and-on on my picture book - more thinking than writing at the moment. I should also buy Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver, which is due on February 28th. At the very least, I should make sure Chapters carries it.

If not, there's nothing like reading a many-hundreds-page-long book on your smartphone screen!

Although I did read Little Men and all 154(?) of Willie Shakespeare's sonnets that way.

Hey, they were free.

Have a good weekend, everybody!

Day 34: Vacation

Like Bill Murray in the movie What About Bob? I am taking a vacation.

Not a vacation to Florida. I have no money for that.
Not a vacation from my problems. They're still here.
Not a vacation from work - I enjoy my job - from writing - I LOVE writing - or from art - what would I do when Nathan plays video games???

Not even a little mini-vacation to Starbucks.

Although I DO have money for that, and I might just go there after supper - with Nathan, of course. And some graph paper. We have been meaning to have a "Renovation-Planning" date for a while now.

No, I am taking a vacation from trying to be perfect.

If you just thought, "What!? I didn't know she was trying to do that!"
It's okay. I understand your confusion.
Obviously, the whole perfect thing is not going as well as I'd like.

In fact, I thought I'd already sunk pretty low on the perfect-o-meter.
But then yesterday morning happened.

If there is an award for the worst morning ever, I would like to apply.

If there is not an award for the worst morning ever, I motion that we create one ...
and then I would like to apply.

Yesterday morning was shocking.

Literally.

Apparently, when my one hand is holding metal measuring spoons and turning the metal knob that adjusts the heat on the stove and my other hand is stirring Cream of Brown Rice* in a metal pot with a metal whisk, my body completes some kind of circuit.

I actually felt the electricity enter my left hand, travel through my body, and exit my right hand. And then it happened again.

And then my morning got worse.

I was running late - the price for sleeping in - and after I let the dogs out for a pee and got them settled inside (Sam in his crate with Mickey Mouse's remains, a vibrating bark collar, and a peanut butter Kong), I made sure I had my keys, cell phone, and wallet, and I left the building.

Outside, I dragged the garbage dolly out of the snow and set it at the end of our driveway. Then I decided to check if our renters had paid yet.

Woot! They had. Smiling happily, I headed for the car. And then I heard it.

That sound.

It was worse than a troupe of howler monkeys.

(At this point I should add that Kia was in a standing heat and both dogs had completely lost their minds.) 

I had known this was going to happen, and I was prepared. As calmly as I could, I re-entered the house, set the keys down, called Nathan, and told him I was going to let Sam stay out of his crate. We would have to take our chances with just the belly band. The dogs quieted immediately, and I left the house.

But as soon as I heard the door click behind me, I knew.

I'd left the keys inside.

(At this point I should add that we only have one set of house keys, and that I am not responsible for losing the missing set.)

I called Nathan, somewhat less calmly than before, and explained my predicament. To his eternal credit, he was not upset, and promised to bring a crowbar and stop at Home Depot on the way home for a new doorknob set.

Thankfully, I still had my car keys, so I was able to drive to work. Did I mention I was running late?

I backed to the end of that driveway like I was racing in the Kentucky Derby (except in a car). Did I mention it was garbage day?

I hit that garbage can so hard that it fell over and spilled garbage into the street.

So if you wondered about that crazy woman who was kneeling in the middle of Fulton Avenue in rush hour traffic ... now you know.

I was, however, miraculously on time for work. God is definitely trying to tell me something about my prayer life. 

Now you also know who that crazy woman was waiting in her car at Home Depot around 4:45 pm, licking the icing off the top of her donut and then eating the filling.** Look me in the eye and tell me you've never wanted to do that.

(A drawing of my eye.)

To make a long story short, by the time I arrived home, Nathan had forcibly gained entry and was in the process of installing a new door knob (and deadbolt). He explained the various security features this doorknob has. He explained how the deadbolt works.

He explained that if I locked myself out again, he would have to break down the door.

Not good.

I went inside. Sam was still in his belly band. Sort of. And his belly band was soaked. But not with pee.

You do not want to know what my house smells like right now.

I put the belly band in the laundry bucket. Did I mention I only bought one belly band? I also called my nurse-mother and discussed what consequences this union might have. Then I started supper.

Sam, however, took advantage of his new-found freedom.

Let's just say ... we're having puppies.

And that is the story of why I'm done trying to be perfect. Goodbye for now ... while I enjoy chilling on the couch with my two dogs (who have magically returned to normal) and a few handfuls of my favorite seasonal candy (cinnamon hearts).

I lie.

Actually, I'm going to do some laundry and clean the kitchen. The dogs are back to normal though. And I am eating cinnamon hearts.

Happy Vacationing!

*Despite smelling and looking like baby puke, it's quite good with brown sugar.
** Since going (temporarily?) gluten free, I've decided to view it as an opportunity to see food in new ways. Hence the cream of rice cereal, and the donut.

Day 31: Bad Days

I knew yesterday would be a bad day when I stretched and accidentally knocked a picture off my wall and onto my head. It fell off my head and onto my coffee cup, spilling coffee all over my pink carpet.

As if I needed more brown stains.

But I was wrong about yesterday being a bad day. Yesterday was okay. I attended Uprising (a women's conference at Crosspoint Church). I attended a beautiful, sad-but-happy funeral for a friend's mom. And I meant to go to bed early, but instead I took a nap and stayed up late drawing pictures of people's faces off old Just for Laughs videos on YouTube and listening to Jeremy Wade catch electric eels in an almost-dried-up-pool in the middle of a cow pasture.

I will never step in a puddle again.

No. Yesterday was not a bad day. But today? Today was everything yesterday promised to be, and more. And it's not even noon yet.

Less than an hour after getting up, I had searched the internet to find out if going into heat can make a dog not only lose her mind but also control over her bowels. The answer is: occasionally, yes (although switching dog foods suddenly because the pet store was out of our regular feed may also have something to do with it).

Don't ask.

Let's just say we're almost out of Nature's Miracle.

I had also sobbed alternately into the (clean) laundry bin and Nathan's arms about bills and losing everything except pounds on the scale and never having a clean house or folded clothes.

And I missed church. Hello guilt, come on in. Make yourself at home.

I am feeling better now, after some coffee and plain eggs scrambled with water - we're out of milk and I couldn't find the pepper. I did add some low-fat cheddar and crushed red pepper spice.

There's also no longer a pool of water on the floor beside the refrigerator. No, the refrigerator hasn't stopped leaking. Dave (the cat) just licks it up as fast as it comes out.

I guess he prefers it to the drooly dog water.

Today is February 3, almost one month after I began this journey. I've posted twelve times (including this post) and my blog has almost seven hundred views, one follower, and fifteen comments (including mine). Thank you, readers, for your encouragement.

I've spent time almost every day honing my writing skills and beginning to practice art again. It's been a long, slow process, and I know it will get even longer and slower in the months to come.

But I won't give up. Not today, anyway.

Wherever you are in the world ... have a good day today. Unless a picture falls on your head. Then you might as well resign yourself to the inevitable.

LOL Update: While my portraits are beginning to bear some resemblance to the human species in general, there is still no actual correlation between the picture and the person they are supposed to represent. Witness this quick portrait of Nathan - it looks like a mix of Justin Bieber, Moses (from the Prince of Egypt movie), and a woman with a beard. I think Nathan put it best. "It looks like everything I don't want to be..."

Forgive the red Sharpie ... couldn't find anything else.