Well, old blog, you are starting to be a little bit like an old pair of shoes that have holes in them and sit in the closet once a new pair of shoes that are more comfortable have been bought.

 

We've had some great memories, like the time I tried to milk people for comments in a shameless fashion.  Or that time when I was getting a pool table.  Or that time when I put photos on you.  You gave me my first 1000 visits.  Good times, man.  Good times. 

 

See you around.

I am changing over to blogger to see if I like it better.

 

Here is the link:

 

 

You may want to note the instructions about comments in my first post.

 

Peace

After my last billiards related post being such a downer, this is indeed a welcome change.  I have found my pool table.  After saving every red cent that I have gotten as a gift for the last year and a half, I now have almost enough for a good used table, or so I thought.  Then I find a pool table warehouse in Calgary that lets me pick it up for cheap, and almost within budget.  That is stupendous.  So today I will go to Calgary and try to pick it up.  A picture is enclosed to go with this entry. 

 

So excited.

No one is keeping track or anything, but I have a feeling that my visitor number is now above 900.  Like the passing of any important milestone, this shall be celebrated with: "Yar, I am not attractive."

 

Funny story: on the fourth of July, My wife and I go to her grandma's birthday party, at which there are two young American ladies that have and are going to join the family soon.  My wife's grandpa, who has been known for the occasional awkward moment (i.e. - patting his grandson's girlfriend on the bottom, and after realizing that this was perhaps not the most kosher thing to do, tries to make it right by patting his grandson's bottom), hands out small pieces of paper that have a few verses written on them.  My wife and I are a little confused at first, trying to see the connection with Grandma's birthday and "America the Beautiful," but about halfway through the second verse I remember that it is July the fourth, and therefore, Happy Independence Day! 

 

Remember that hornet's nest that equalled the butt?  Well, I showed it.  A can of wasp killer and a blissful minute of glory at midnight later and the problem is no more.  The next day, out of curiousity, I decide to check out how many of the little vermicious knids are in there.  I'm thinking about a dozen or so.  I mean, this nest is only the size of a tennis ball.  Nope ... try 35!  It is as if their whole existence is for procreating and wreaking havoc on ad hoc passers by.  There were at least a dozen squirming grubs that were waiting to turn into vermicious knids, but I guess they will never realize that dream.  HA ha ha ha HA!  Stupid insects on their way to wherever my garbage gets hauled to: 0,  Nater: 1.

You will notice to the right that there are some new photos added.  Yes, it is a make shift pool table on the floor in our basement.  Perk - old basement being so old that red carpet is hip and trendy again.  I have been saving and scheming and hoping for a pool table for the last while, some day my dream will be a reality.  Current obstacle, pool tables expensive and not in abundance 'round these parts.  Also, TV room in basement can be TV room or pool room, but have trouble being both.  Sigh.

Surfin' up and down on the thing they call 'net,

Checkin' all my e-mails and what do I get?

Some gal tellin' me that she is all alone;

Might as well be dancin' and say "pick up the phone."

 

Some dudes shoutin' at me 'bout the latest cheap meds,

Or maybe saying something 'bout being good in bed.

You want I should stuff all my cash in those stocks?

Or checking if my credit is down on the rocks?

 

You're hopin' that I'll give you my Mastercard nums,

And won't call the cops on you phony ad bums.

Cloggin' up my inbox like a rancid piece of stew,

Get out of my life, 'fore I pity the foo.

 

 

 

 

Nothing like a little improv rap-style poetry to soothe the recurring spam rage.

So, July 1st in Rosemary, Alberta is a big deal.  And with my wife growing up there and all, that is likely where we will be on July 1st for many moons to come.  This past weekend was no exception.  Antique tractor pulls, snowmobile races, strong man competition, a parade, dancing, and fireworks to end the night.  Good times had by all.

 

This past Canada Day, after the fireworks display, My wife and I went to her parents' house to wait for the traffic congestion to clear out, and eat a leftover crepe.  The crepe was good.  Then, the phone rings...

 

Tension mounts!

 

It is someone from their church that lives a good three to four miles away, and they have come home to think that their house had been broken into!  A screen door was busted through.  Cautiously investigating the situation, they survey the damage, and discover a dog hiding in their closet.  None other than my wife's parents' dog.  Apparently fireworks that are a good three to four miles away can scare a dog enough to run three to four miles in the opposite direction and break into a house and hide in a closet.

 

The moral of the story is, always say yes to leftover crepes.

So yesterday I am mowing the lawn, which is jolly good fun when you have a cordless electric mower from Crappy Tire (except when the battery lasts only long enough to get halfway done ... wait, that is always), and I get to the middle section of our lawn by our mayberry tree.  This tree has been feeling lethargic or super expansive lately and has been stretching its branches down towards the lawn around it.  So I am mowing under the branches (some at which are eye level, others below that, others right at the level that you don't see them when wearing a hat and meet with unexpectedly), and I move them out of my way as I go by so they don't catch on my nostrils and cause pain.  Ironically, in avoiding pain, I ended up causing more.  See, one branch had clever hidden a small hornet's nest right on the end of it at face level.

 

I managed to escape with only one sting, but it was right on the cheek (the one below my eye.  I have learned to make sure my rumpus is covered when I mow the lawn).  So that hurt.  I was expecting to swell up all sweet and look like a bloated victim of a beating (see Will Smith in Hitch when he has an allergic reaction), but I haven't even swollen a little.  I guess that saves me having to tell everyone that looks at me what happened to make me look like I am slowly turning into a pufferfish.

 

So yes, getting stung in the face is the butt, but at least it is not a swollen and ugly butt.

It is hot out.

 

Funny story - the gang was at the local Boston Pizza for wing Wednesday, as had become tradition.  An affiliate of the gang named Simon was also at the restaurant, with a gang of junior high age students, mostly women, that he was working with from church.  He was on his way to the bathroom, and stopped in to say hello to the gang.

 

"Hey guys."

 

"Hey Simon, how are the wings?"

 

"Hot, hot, so hot, my lips are burning."

 

Not really a funny story ... yet.  My brother Corey was a part of the gang, and for some reason, thought that the question asked was "Hey Simon, how are the ladies?"  His response being somewhat atypical of Simon's character, Corey responded with a shocked "Simon!"  Everyone was a little surprised at his reaction to a comment about hot wings. 

 

Anyhow, I laughed.

Earlier in life, I believe I blogged something about working on a bathroom.  Now I can blog about our driveway experience.  My wife and I bought our place in April of last year, and when we asked about the basement ever leaking, were told that it had happened once in 25 years.  So we think; "good."  Then that spring and summer we get more rain than our area has had in a very long time, and our basement gets wet twice.  Not an ideal situation.  It didn't flood like the dickens, but our two bedrooms in the basement had a fair bit of damp carpet, and if that is not attended to it becomes a musty, moldy mess.  The problem is all because our driveway is right against the house on the north side, and it has sunken over the years.  So when it rains, the water pools up against the house and has nowhere to go but down into the basement instead of draining away like well-behaved water.

 

So, a couple weeks ago we decided it was time to do something about it.  We rented a jackhammer that mounts on the front of a bobcat, and set to work.  By the end of the day, no driveway left, and much less substance in wallet.  Hauling cement away is no cheap business. 

 

Now we wait to smooth out the dirt and prep for the pouring of a new driveway.  But it rains.  Then it almost dries up, and then it rains.  Repeat cycle. 

 

It has been pretty handy to have dads and dad-in-laws in the area to help with this project.  I look forward to the day when it will be done. 

 

Side note - the jackhammering effect on our house was not so good.  A wall in our enclosed deck area off the back entryway decided that it didn't like to be suspended five inches off the ground, and promptly came crashing down.  Now why someone would build a brick wall five inches off the ground is beyond me, but now we cannot get our door to close.  Frustrating.  I am hopeful that fixing it is only a matter of lifting the wall back up and putting something under it to hold it in place.  Perhaps we will have to re-mortar it or something.  Bah.

 

On a more upbeat note, we have been doing small upgrades in the bathroom, and I am pleased to announce that we now have towel racks!  Yay!  Also a far more trendy TP dispenser.  The old one was far less trendy and was the type that is mounted into the wall.  So removing that means big hole in the wall.  So I am learning to put large patches of drywall in.  I put a little paint on it this morning, so we will see how it turns out when I head home.

 

Peace

I now have another new cousin, one Samuel Kenneth Thiele, pictured below:

 

It is a phenomenon of large families that have a few previous generations of large families to have age gaps that go haywire.  My dad has a first cousin that is five years older than me, so he seems much more like my cousin than my dad's.  And now, me being 23 and having first cousins born will only continue that trend.

 

Anyhow, this is a pretty exciting baby for my aunt and uncle, their first, so they are tickled.

 

It is funny.  Wesley always says he has a brand new cousin whenever a baby is born.  Well now I can too.

So, I have ordered a few things online before.  One might say I am no bumbling internet oaf.  But I have to say I was impressed with a recent order on Amazon.ca.  In past when I ordered something from them, I often would click on the "new & used" section for other vendors that might save me $2.  But this time, I ordered The Importance of Being Earnest straight from Amazon.  So I order and promptly forget about it.  But within a week, it arrives.  Which I was pumped about.  Usually those crap-lousy other vendors take at least three weeks to deliver.  A few times I have had to wait more than a month (all worth it for those $2 I saved).  Sadly, when we opened it, the DVD had popped out of its holding compartment, and was scratched beyond repair.  But hang on!  Part two of impressed coming up:

 

...

 

Part two:  So I relunctantly trudge back to my computer to see how many hoops I will have to jump through to return this item.  Turns out, one.  I go online and click a few buttons, and they print out a label for me to put on the box that covers the postage and gives me the choice of refund or replacement.  I was fully expecting to have to pay at least half of what the stupid thing cost me to send it back to them.  I officially give Amazon.ca the thumbs up.

 

Likely some of you already have experienced all this, and if that is the case, try to return to that moment of releif and ecstacy you had when you found out just how easy it was.  I don't know if I will ever go back to crumb-nugget save $2 mode.

 

On another note, more like an ending note, it has been interesting to be a part of the whole "blog revolution" taking place online.  Emailing seems to happen less when we can all catch up on life by visiting someone's posts.  I wonder what's next...  My guess: hamcakes.

 

Noting that it is the first day of June, I at first thought that it was the halfway point in the year.  Then I realized that this would only be the case if the year started in December.  For some, perhaps it does.  But for the rest of us, we are still a month away.  Maybe that is why Canada Day is such a larf.  Not only is it a celebration of our country's annual fooferah, it marks the halfway point in the year.  Another grand day is Jeremy Thompson's birthday, as it falls on June 25th.  This of course marks the halfway point from presents day, I mean Christmas.

 

It is a good practice every now and then to stop and look forward and back, think about what life has been like.  I usually get pretty wrapped up in what I am doing and often forget to take some reflecting and pondering time.  I think time with God can help us to reflect, rather than be stuck in the moment.  To myself I would have to say "you've got to get yourself together, you got stuck in a moment, and you can' t get out of it."  Hopefully after this I will transition into elevation, where I can "whoo-oooo!" with the best of them.  Thanks U2!

A friend posted this site called www.improveverywhere.com on a blog and I was curious so I go to check it out.  Basically it is this guy and some friends that do these random "missions" to cause a scene somewhere.  Some of them are pretty funny.  In one, a bunch of people get on a Subway with no pants on, and then have a friend come in later and sell them some of their pants for $1, acting like they don't know each other.  The reactions they get are interesting too, as some people think it is hilarious and others get kind of mad about it.

 

It makes me wonder if I would do some of these crazy things, and if not, what would hold me back.  I was reading in an awesome book about being single (So You're Single - 2003 annotated version - one printing only)  and the author makes a statement that to be self-conscious is the ultimate sin.  I don't think that there is such thing as an "ultimate" sin, since they are all the same in God's eyes, but thinking about whether self-consciousness is a sin or not was an interesting thought.  I had never thought of it that way.  I don't know that I agree, but I can agree that when we are self conscious, to an extent we are ashamed of who we are, which is how God made us.  I think sometimes we put way too much emphasis on humility, without really looking at what humility is about.  I can remember thinking that to be humble, I had to talk about myself like I was nothing.  I heard a guy say once that true humility is the balance between not thinking too highly of ourselves and not thinking too lowly of ourselves either.  So much of life is about balance.

 

Question of the day - Should I switch over to blogger.com or stay with msnspaces?

 

PS - Vis, I pastor Duchess, not Rosemary.  But I am flattered to be mentioned in the links.

Upon review of my current blogging situation, I see that very few comments are ever left on my page.  This leads me to a few possible conclusions.  1) - No one ever reads my blog.  2) - I am not interesting enough to warrant a comment. or 3) - People are afraid to comment for fear of being eaten by wild rodents.

 

My blog stats counter tells me that at least one or two people do actually visit this page.  Perhaps they only look at the photos.  If that is the case I shall have to move them to the side or something.

 

It is likely that I am not interesting enough to warrant feedback.  Perhaps I should end with open ended questions or some sort of poll.

 

As far as the third possible conclusion; come on people.  There are no such thing as rodents of unusual size.  I don't think they exist.  And if you live in Alberta, then you know that we are a rat-free province.  Wild mice may still nibble at your toes.  To solve this problem, I shall put a picture of a cat at the end of this post.

 

This has been a most productive session.

 

Does anyone care about anything I said?

I remember being in a class in college and a prof telling the story of a student that had approached him and said they didn't think they would have children because they were scared to bring a child into a terrible world like this one.  Part of me can identify with that.  The whole "kids these days..." argument and moral decay of society and so on, plus the environmental issues.  But upon further reflection, it seems that every generation has thought that the next batch of kids was so much worse than the previous one.  So we are in the same boat as most of our family tree.

 

Now that I am closing in on 2 years of marriage, the hints regarding children come with increasing frequency.  But I don't feel ready to be a parent.  It is scary to be completely responsible for a child, knowing that every move I make could (and mostly likely will) have some impact on them.  Even my best intentions could scar a child and cause irreversible damage.  How do you live with that kind of pressure?  Not to mention the financial strain of starting a family.  Not only do your costs increase, but you lose an income as well.  Perhaps it's best to wait until I am 45 and in better financial standing.

 

On the other hand, I don't want to be an old dad.  I suppose that has more to do with attitude than age.  So long as I am not as old as other children's grandparents.  And there are health benefits to having children earlier, from the female side of things.  The older you get, the harder it is for the gears that need to allow a volleyball to squeeze through a tennis ball container.

 

I am also not relishing the thought of getting up at all hours of the night and being exhausted all the time.  I don't function well without sleep.  Thinking of all these things sure makes me appreciate the job of a parent.  It is easy to take the sacrifice for granted.  I guess in the end, the important decision for a parent is to release their child into God's hands.  I read somewhere that mothers are preparing to do that from the moment of conception.  Failure to do so usually has negative consequences, like undue stress and anxiety for the parent, and kids that squirm to be let go like they need.  Ultimately it becomes an issue of trust.  Can I trust that God will take care of my kids?  Can I trust that God will provide for our needs?  Can I trust that God will use my flawed attempts and communicate His love to my children?  I hope so.

Marriage.  Marriage is what brings us together... today.

 

That is what my wife and I had written on the front of our wedding program.  Anyone that had seen the Princess Bride immediately broke into "Mawwage.."  I think the other half of the people were a little confused when they kept hearing all these people speaking with speech impediments.

 

My brother Corey is getting married this weekend out in BC, so we will make the trek out.  It will be my first time in a wedding party, except for that time I was in my own.  I look forward to it.

 

Weddings are an interesting reflection of people.  Is it a serious day?  Is it a celebration?  I think my wife and I tried to make it both.  The ceremony was a sober covenant making before God and all the people that care about us, and the reception was the celebration.  Good times had by all.  It has been a fun ride since.  People say that your first year is the hardest, but it has been swell.  Maybe that means the next year will be the hardest.  Who knows.  I think mostly it has to do with your attitude.  And partly how well you know someone when you marry.  I would recommend marrying your best friend, as a heallthy marriage has a lot more to do with friendship than with romance (I think).  You hear stories about some people that get married and find out that they didn't really know their spouse very well.  That doesn't mean things can't work, but it would be a little harder.  Anyhow, if your spouse isn't your best friend, do it!  It makes life a lot more fun.

At oiur small group the other night, we were talking about anxiety, and the "what if" questions that we ask.  Usually we think in negative terms, imagining the worst that could happen.  Lots of us have a few what if questions that come back to us, recurring fears you might say.  But our leader asked us to think the opposite way, and come up with some "what if" questions that were positive.  Some examples were "What if God really is delighted about who I am?"  What if God is using me exactly howHe wants to?"  What if I can trust God with every detail of my life?"

 

It was an interesting exercise.  What if we could train ourselves to think best case scenarios instead of worst case?  Are we that scared of being disappointed?  Perhaps that is why we won't risk much.  It is easier to be safe.

 

Safety can be appealing, though I think we can miss out on the adventure of life when we cling too much to what is comfortable.  When we step out of that, then we grow.  Sometimes I wish I was a chia pet, then growth would be easy.  But alas, I am not.  I shall have to continue to look for ways that I can be uncomfortable.  Bring on the sackcloth and ashes.

It's pretty easy to get in the way sometimes. 

 

In my opinion, the art of preaching a message in church on a Sunday morning is to allow God to illuminate His word in the hearts of the church.  But it is hard to do.  Especially since we cannot tell if we are simply writing our own thoughts on paper or being led by God.  I remember studying some preaching material in college, and the advice of one guy was to focus on the one point of the selected text, and make that your theme.  If you try to put too much into something, people leave with nothing.  But if you hammer home one point the whole way through, then chances are better that they will leave with that one point.  This make some sense to me, but what if I miss the point?  I guess I really value the time spent sitting with a text and mulling over it and trying to listen to what God is saying through it.  But sometimes my week doesn't allow for this.  And I think the message suffers when that happen. 

 

I suppose we have to trust that God is at work in people's hearts as much as we need to trust that He is at work in our preparation.  I guess when it comes down to it, you can prepare all you want, or be the best speaker in the world, but if God is not in it, then it is only words.  And words have no power to change our hearts apart from the work of the Spirit of God.  Somewhere in there fits our responsibility to train our gifts and learn to use them to their full. 

 

My pride likes to push me into the limelight, to search for the praise of others as my affirmation.  Sometimes I need to stop and rethink my priorities.  Whose opinion really matters?  If I can honestly say that I my goal has been about God and not me, then it doesn't really matter what kind of feedback I get.  But that is hard to remember.

 

It is funny how the day after a sermon is always a hard day.  It is like every doubt that we have ever had comes to the surface to kick at us.  I have heard that when the truth of God is proclaimed, there is always a spiritual lashback.  If that is the cost, then so be it.  I will seek to proclaim truth wherever I can.

Exciting news: last night I received a call from my old hockey coach from grade 12, and was invited to play in an alumni game this Friday.  I didn't think it would work, since Friday is when I work with the youth, but I found a sub and now can get all the gear on again.  I won't be completely rusty, since I have been skating once a week this winter with some men from our church.  But shinny is a little different than full contact hockey.  Hopefully I don't get cranked all night.  And me Pa says that me brother Corey will be playing too.  We played a year together when we were at Bible School in Abbotsford.  Our team won the league championship, so it was pretty hot.  We had a lot of fun.  Our coach was like Coach Z to us, once he said "great jock, there, Nate" after a game.  I don't know if he meant great job, or if he actually thought my jock strap was great.  But I won't delve any further into that one.

 

Anyhow, I am pumped for Friday.  (7:30 in Bassano).