Finding the Wonderful

As I've mentioned, I work in a public library.  To be specific, I work in the basement of the public library, which holds the reference collection, the movie, audiobook, music collections, as well as the public access internet computers.  It's a busy place.  Like any worker behind a public service desk, I meet many kinds of wonderful people.  I also meet a few kinds of people who need some more help to find their 'wonderful' side.

Last night, I might have met the Spirit of Christmas.

This cute little guy about six came up to the counter, reached up to hand me a candy cane and wished me a heartfelt 'Merry Christmas'!   My face exploded into a smile and I burst out 'Oh, thank you! Aren't you just a bundle of JOY?!!!'.  He absolutely beamed at this.  I saw he was carrying a big red-ribboned basket full of candy canes and was making the rounds to every patron and staff in the library.

There's the MAGIC of CHRISTMAS...I'm still smiling about this one. 

His mom that was standing quietly a few feet away deserves big kudos.  She's helped her son find that the true spirit of the season is to be found in spreading some Joy to his community, rather than spreading some money around the mall.

When I think about it, the more actions like this by more people and we could all move a little closer to our 'wonderful' sides.

 

Christmas has different meaning to each of us who recognize that day.  Some make the season last for at least a month of extravagant festivities, while others feel Dec 25th approach with a sad ache and feel relief on Dec 26th.

I don't think of myself as a religious person, but at times I find myself praying.  I follow a great cooking blog written by some lovely Mennonite women.  Every Sunday, their spiritual post is called 'Bread for the Journey'.  I did find comfort in their post this past Sunday.  Perhaps you will, too.

Peace and Joy

Well, Christmas is almost here.  Shiny coloured things all around!

This is the last bit of yarn painting that I did...probably the last of the year.  Interesting that these two skeins were painted using the same three colours: burgundy, olive and golden ochre.  The one you see on the left had the dyed applied with distinct colour repeats and little overlap.  On the skein shown on the right, I applied the dyes randomly throughout the skein and the colours mixed quite freely.

On a cool crisp day, the hayloft is one of my favourite places.  I'm not sure what it is about the hayloft that is so comforting.  Perhaps it is the peace in knowing that my alpacas will have enough to eat until spring pasture time.  It could be the quiet stillness and isolation of the hayloft is a good place for reflection.  It might be that the hayloft is a drawback in history, that the skeleton of this post and beam barn reflects decades of honest, hard work by farm families.  Our full hay loft is the result of the labour of two farm families - one who produced the hay and ours that put it up.

Peace

It doesn't matter to the herd that they eat the same hay from fall to spring...every new bale that gets brought out gets the same reaction.  It's like throwing candies into the middle of a kindergarten class.

Joy

I Wish You Peace and Joy at Christmas and always.







Miracles Happen: An Update

I was thinking of someone the other day, when I was reminded of the theme of my post from last Christmas, called Miracles Happen.
So I reread it.

Here's an update...

The young man in the hospital beat incredible odds and a dismal prognosis.  He came home.

The soldier whose last tour in Afghanistan ended just before last Christmas is expecting my friend's first grandchild!

My friend who spent last Christmas worried about her diagnosis was told that the cancer treatments worked.

And the weight that was on my shoulders is lightened by others.  There are angels among us.

Sometimes, miracles happen.

I still Believe.

Miracles Happen

Today is Christmas and I have stolen away from my family for a few quiet minutes to write.  This last week, I have enjoyed reading other blogger's entries that share precious memories of their Christmas pasts and peeks into their current Christmas celebrations.

I am the youngest of six children, and my mother came from a large family herself.  I had 24 first cousins on my mother's side, and some of those older cousins were having babies of their own by the time I came along.  My grandparents lived on a farm in an old log house about 40 minutes from our house.  Christmas Day meant gathering at Ma and Pa's home with all the other families.  I can't even recall how my parents were able to transport all of us six, toboggans plus food in the station wagon that was towing a trailer with the snowmobile!


Ma loved Christmas.  Every little person would receive a pair of hand knit woolen mittens.  They would have to be unique, red with a white stripe, green with a red stripe, etc, so that the kids wouldn't be arguing over whose was whose.  I don't know what else the boys got, but I know that the girls always got a pair of new underwear that 'you'd grow into' (in other words, they reached up to your armpits!).  More information than you need to know, right!?


During the day, the cousins would toboggan outside and take turns getting towed around the field behind the snowmobile.  Sometimes we would go into the barn to find the kittens or watch my young uncle milk the cows.  I remember one Christmas, I was about 6, getting very angry because Uncle Grant had turned the cow teat towards me and squirted fresh milk all over my new red woolen Christmas dress.


I have great colour photos of my cousin's shiny faces happily looking up as Ma placed the 3 tier decorated fruitcake onto the table.  I have no idea how we all fit into that house at once.  Happy memories.

About a month ago, I was walking through the mall amid the throng of Christmas shoppers.  Overheated in my winter boots and big 50 lb. faux fur coat, surrounded by the trappings of commercialism in its best retail month, I was misery defined.  Something weighed heavily on my mind this fall and I really couldn't imagine getting excited for Christmas.

Then I saw a sign in a decor store at the mall that said ‘Miracles Happen’.  I was drawn to it and it's message struck deep inside me.  Could I believe?  I felt like someone had handed me a rope.  Christmas is the time for hope and the time for miracles.  I have chosen to believe.

I thought about this a lot over the last few weeks.  Then, I started recognizing other's need for hope this season.

A couple I know have watched their son struggle with treatments in the hospital for the last 18 months.  Their wish is that he will be well enough to be able to spend a few hours out of the hospital today.

A good friend will spend the holidays waiting anxiously for her medical test results.

Happily, my friend's daughter returned from her tour in Afghanistan just before Christmas and my neighbours have our road decorated with yellow ribbons to announce the return of their own son.  However, there are many military families that are bravely holding onto hope this Christmas as their loved ones are still away.

I hope that Christmas brings you the miracle you are hoping for. 

Believe.

O Tannenbaum!

O Christmas Tree! It's fake - can you tell? I promise I will never buy another one...well, maybe if it comes with the lights already installed. 10 more days until Christmas. Our community public school had their Christmas concert tonight. The countdown is on.

Here's a spinning project that I've been wanting to try for some time now. I handspun the alpaca\merino blend singles and now I am plying them together with a polyester thread strung with beads. I'm finding it kind of tricky to hold the beaded thread in one hand to pop a bead off into the yarn while plying. The tendency is to hold back on the thread itself, so it is much tighter than the singles yarn. I'm thinking that the colour beads on the white yarn looks kind of clownish, but perhaps it will make a nice edging on a scarf or shawl someday. Come to think of it, it looks a little Christmas-sy itself.






Our chickens are not loving the winter...although they do venture out of the chicken house to get fresh air.

















The rooster Big Red is a handsome devil, isn't he?
The hen's name is Elsie.

People ask me whether alpacas like the Northern Ontario winters. Well, they do like the cold weather of December better than the heat and humidity of our typical August. They need shelter from the wind and from getting too wet, but other than that, they do very well in our climate. Today was a mild winter day, but when the sun started going down, it got cooler. In the twilight - which now happens about 5:30pm - I could see this 6 month old weanling and another running about playing and pronking. It's fun to watch.