by Heather Plett | Jun 2, 2006 | Uncategorized
With the advent of Spring, thoughts turn to new birth – flowers in the garden, puppies on the lawn. All around me, people have one of two thoughts on their mind “what can I buy at the garden centre today?” or “oh, I just LOVE my little pet”. Yup, even in the blogging world, I’m surrounded by people who are either plant lovers or pet lovers, or (cringe) BOTH. Even my friend Michele, who, though I knew she loves to garden, I was SURE would continue to be my compadre in the “don’t want a pet” category, has fallen head over heels in love with a puppy. She’s even become a POSTER CHILD for petlovers everywhere. Yeesh! I have been abandoned.
I am neither a plant lover nor a pet lover. Well, that’s not entirely true, I do love plants, I just don’t particularly like to plant them, prune them, weed them, water them, or worship them. I like plants that grow green and lush on their OWN accord with no input from me. It’s why I live in a house with huge maple trees all around it – no work on my part, and they look fabulous.
Sometimes I think there must have been a flaw in the gene pool that I got neither plant-loving nor pet-loving genes. But then I just have to remind myself that bbb (my big brother) is on my side, so the gene pool essentially got cut in half on that particular gene. Don’t you DARE fall in love with that puppy, bbb, that you have the AUDACITY to let into your house or I may never speak to you again!
My friend and colleague Dan tells me that kids who grow up with pets grow up more well adjusted. So, in other words, I’m cheating my kids out of their adjustment, and they’ll probably need therapy. Dan also has an organic farm, so he heaps the guilt on on BOTH counts. Did I just call him my FRIEND? Sheesh!
Fortunately, my husband and oldest daughter didn’t get the genes either, so I’m not outnumbered in my house. So far, we haven’t had to give in to the pressure from the other two girls to get a puppy, and when Julie needs a gardening fix, we just send her to her grandparents’ house.
Sometimes I wonder… do I lack compassion if I can’t get all warm and fuzzy about a pet and I’ve killed more house plants than most people ever own? Am I a cold fish? Am I stunting my children’s growth by passing on my cold-hearted ways? Oh, the guilt. (What’s a mom without a healthy heaping of guilt?)
Seriously though, I will embrace my gene pool, I will stand tall and proud in my uniqueness, and I will not let all this plant/pet craziness beat me down. You have your plants and pets to connect you to Spring, I have my bike rides down river pathways and, starting this weekend, sleeping in a tent! I LOVE sleeping in a tent!
by Heather Plett | Jun 1, 2006 | Uncategorized
Marcel’s cousin Leon is a long distance truck driver. He told Marcel a great little story that I can’t resist repeating.
He was having breakfast with a fellow truck driver somewhere down in the States not long ago. When they got up to pay for their meal, they were told it had already been paid for. When they asked by whom, the cashier pointed to a woman sitting alone.
It turns out this woman used to be married to a truck driver. When he passed away, she sold the business, but she wanted to find some way to give back – or perhaps “pay it forward”. So every Sunday morning, she goes to a truck stop, picks out a random table of truck drivers, and pays for their breakfast anonymously.
Isn’t that a great story? Just think of all the neat little stories that are floating out there in the cosmos because of her acts of kindness.
by Heather Plett | May 30, 2006 | Uncategorized
I’m wearing one of my favourite skirts today. It’s long and black and funky, with embroidered designs and black beads around the bottom. It’s filmy and flowing – like a peasant skirt without the wrinkles.
I’ve had this skirt for about 14 years. It hung in the back of my closet for quite awhile, abandoned because the elastic was shot and I didn’t bother to fix it for a long time. But now it’s been revived and it’s back near the front of the closet where it gets pulled out and worn nearly once a week. I like to wear it with a black shirt and a purple silk scarf slung jauntily around my neck.
The skirt was a gift from Kari, my room-mate and best friend at the time. She spent a few months in London, during which time she sent me raunchy postcards from Soho, and when she came back, she brought me the skirt.
I miss Kari. I think it’s been ten years since I saw her. She came to visit me in the hospital when Nikki was born, and I think that’s the last I saw of her. Maybe because I got caught up in starting a family (Julie came shortly after Nikki, so I got a little overwhelmed), and got too busy to invest much energy in friendships, we drifted apart. She moved around a bit, I lost her phone number, and now I no longer know how to find her.
A couple of years ago, I was walking from work to the University to meet Marcel, and when I got there, he said “you’ll never guess who I just saw.” It was Kari, and she was carrying a little boy – her son. She was running late and didn’t have time to wait to see me, so I missed her. She didn’t leave her number. Poof, she disappeared again. I didn’t get to see her little boy.
I don’t have a very good track record for hanging onto friends. They either move away, or we drift apart, and I don’t bother to call. It makes me sad. I’ve had some incredible friends over the years – soulmates who own pieces of my heart – but I’ve let them float away into the great unknown.
Kari was one of the best. We had so much fun together. She brought out the “crazy” in me, because she was much more uninhibited than me. We told each other wild secrets, we kept each other sane when our other roommate was driving us crazy, we marched in protests together, we stayed up late laughing and concocting weird food combinations – we did all the things twenty-something girls are supposed to do when they share an apartment and haven’t gotten weighed down with a lot of responsibilities yet.
I think I should look Kari up again – call her parents or something. I need to let her know I still wear the skirt and I still think of her whenever I do.
Kari – if you stumble across this blog, call me.
by Heather Plett | May 29, 2006 | Uncategorized
God was at church Sunday morning. Imagine that! I don’t think God always bothers to show up at church, because people don’t necessarily want him there. Actually, he probably shows up anyway, and waits in the wings for someone to invite him in, but sometimes he leaves disappointed because no-one makes space for him.
This Sunday, he was there, eager to meet us when we arrived. It started with the music. He liked the music. I think he liked the fact that we mixed it up a bit and had the music team play from the back of the room.
He was there when I got up to welcome the gatherers. I could see him smiling from the rain outside the window. He chuckled while I prayed, and let loose a mighty crash of thunder just before I said amen.
He was there when Rob got up to speak too. I think he likes hearing Rob speak, because he knows authenticity when he sees it. He recognizes the humility in Rob’s heart, just like the rest of us do. Humility makes him feel like he’s got something to work with.
When everyone was finished speaking and singing, and there was silence, he seemed especially happy. He likes it when we shut up for a change and let him get a word in edge-wise. He doesn’t always get it why we think we have to fill so much of our time with words. He keeps hoping that humans will evolve in our ability and willingness to communicate in the stillness.
He came with me to the centre of the labyrinth and knelt beside me on the floor. As I walked back to the edges, he stuck beside me, reminding me he’s not just a “centre of the labyrinth” kind of god. I didn’t talk much and neither did he. We just hung out as we walked. I enjoyed the company and he did too.
He was in the kids’ room too, watching them make shields out of cardboard and tinfoil. I think he probably has the most fun there, because kids know how to be real and don’t stop to worry about whether they’re “doing church right”. He likes to hear them laugh and he takes pleasure in the dancing and creativity. Sometimes, he just stays in the Kidventure room, because it gets a little stuffy and boring where the adults are.
He hung around after church too, because he really likes potlucks. There’s something about people gathering around a table, he says, that makes him want to stick around. Potlucks are some of his favourite moments, because people share food, eat together, have good conversations, exchange recipes, clean up together and just basically “do community” without putting on a big show or getting all formal on him.
Even after the potluck, he lingered, because he wanted to be with us while we celebrated the newest member of our church family. He loves celebrations – especially where children are concerned. There’s something about a baby celebration that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy and, most of all, hopeful.
After church, he climbed into our cars with us and offered to stick with us for the rest of the week. Some of us took him along, and some of us told him we’d prefer it if he’d stay at church until next Sunday.
(Note: feel free to substitute “she” for “he” in the above. I don’t think God minds.)
by Heather Plett | May 29, 2006 | Uncategorized
So, Marcel, my dear husband, sent me this link today. Do you think perhaps he doesn’t want me to jump? 🙂
