12 days to go

It’s twelve days until opening night of the Flagstaff Players production of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. We’re a long way from being ready but I have no doubt that we’ll pull it off. In order to do so, though, we’ll practically be living at the Sedgewick hall for the next two weeks!

This afternoon was costume call. We met at the hall to go through our “tickle trunks”* and figure out what everyone will wear. Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll join the director and another cast member at Mopsy Tucks, a costume rental place just down the road in Lougheed, to see if we can fill in the gaps. I also have some sewing to do; mostly minor alterations.

On Wednesday, immediately after the community gathers at the hall for the annual Remembrance Day ceremony, we’ll begin constructing our set. We have a crew who are ready to move in and put it together. As usual, I’ll be there with hammer or paintbrush in hand to do whatever I can. The stage itself will be an elaborate one with several different levels but the backdrops and props will be quite simple.

It always amazes me how a play begins to come together once the set is in place. When we have walls instead of lines of masking tape on the floor, the whole thing becomes much more real and we usually move pretty quickly from hesitant and nervous to confident and ready.

Most of the cast have memorized their lines and we’ll be prying reluctant fingers from the last few scripts this week. Once we’re onstage without the scripts, we can work on voice and character development. Then the play really begins to come to life.

Richard and I have very small roles in this year’s play. Because we were away for three weeks this fall, we weren’t able to take on as much as we have in the past and have found it a little harder to get into the spirit of things. Now that the deadline is fast approaching, however, I’ll be living and breathing A Christmas Carol until the lights go out at the end of our final performance and I’ll be loving every minute of it.

*Those of you who aren’t Canadian might not know what a “tickle trunk” is but the term is familiar to anyone who grew up or parented children in Canada within the past 40 years. The name comes from Mr. Dressup, a popular children’s television series that was produced by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation from 1967 to 1996. The show, which aired every weekday morning, starred Ernie Coombs as Mr. Dressup. Each day, one segment of the show featured his Tickle Trunk, from which he would get a costume. It might be an animal costume, or a policeman’s or fireman’s uniform, or some other outfit in which he would dress up and play whatever role was suggested by the costume. The trunk must have been magic as it always had the right costume, in the right size, neatly folded at the very top. I can only wish that our “tickle trunks” were as well equipped!

The haunted house

This has been the view out our front windows for the past seven months. For close to 30 years, we looked out at a vacant lot. In the summer, the town kept it mowed and it was a great place for kids to play. Several winters, when our children were young, Richard ran a garden hose across the street and flooded the lower end of the lot to provide a skating rink for the neighbourhood. We celebrated one of Matthew’s February birthdays with a skating party and bonfire on the vacant lot. Our old tent trailer spent many winters parked in one of its corners.

We didn’t really expect anyone to buy the long, narrow corner lot but shortly before we left for Japan, we learned that it had sold. While we were gone, we heard from friends and neighbours that a monster house was being built across from ours. We came back expecting to see a finished house but this is what greeted us. It hasn’t changed one iota since. We understand that it’s at the centre of a lawsuit between the owner and one of the contractors who insisted on being paid for work he didn’t do. Apparently, nothing more can be done until the suit is settled.

For awhile, during the summer, the lot became an eyesore with building supplies strewn around and gigantic weeds everywhere. I thought about complaining to the town office but before I did, the owners showed up and cleaned up a bit. That’s the only time I’ve seen them there.

Though the house is much too big for the lot and dwarfs everything around it, I like the design and was anxious to see what it would look like finished. Now, with so much time gone by, I wonder if it will ever be completed or if it will gradually deteriorate and eventually have to be torn down.

Recently, one of our neighbours referred to it as the haunted house. I hadn’t thought of it until then but it definitely has that look, especially at night with the moon rising over it. Tomorrow evening as I open the door to little ghosts and goblins, I’ll have to watch for spooks in the shadows of the haunted house!

Will the world end in 2012?

Earlier this week, I came across an ad for a Christian book entitled “2012, The Bible, and The End of The World” by Mark Hitchcock. According to the product description, Hitchcock “explores a fascinating last-days controversy that is gaining the attention of millions all over the globe.”

My first thought was to wonder where I’ve been and why I wasn’t aware of such a widespread argument. Doomsday prophecies are far from a new phenomena and this one apparently finds its origin in the fact that December 21, 2012 is the final date to appear in the ancient Mayan calendar.

I was also reminded of all the hype surrounding Y2K, the big non event of January 1, 2000. Many seriously believed that we were in great peril because worldwide technology would fail due to an anticipated inability by computers to read the new date correctly. Many took action stockpiling food, water and other necessities in anticipation of being without power, heat, transportation and communication for an extended period of time.

My attitude toward the prophecy that the world will end on the winter solstice of 2012 is the same as it was toward Y2K. I’m not even slightly worried. I simply don’t believe it. As the end of 1999 approached, I put my confidence in Isaiah 33:16. Speaking of the righteous man, one who lives a life that pleases God, it says “His bread will be supplied, and water will not fail him.” During that time, I coined a favourite phrase, “my God makes manna”, and trusted that he would take care of us in the unlikely event that something did happen when the clock struck midnight.

The Bible does forecast that someday the world as we know it will come to an end but I do know for sure that it won’t happen on December 21, 2012. In Matthew 24:36, the Bible clearly says, “No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, or the Son, but only the Father.” The fact that there are those who claim to know the exact date is a clear indication that they are wrong.

When I saw the title “2012, The Bible, and The End of The World”, however, I asked myself, what would I do if I did know that the world was going to end in two year’s time? How would I live differently? What would my priorities be? Valid questions to which I have no definite answers.

To teach or not to teach…

We’re home from our trip to Vancouver and planning to stay for awhile so we’re debating whether or not to put our names back on the substitute teacher list. We know that our skills are in demand and the pay would supplement our pensions rather nicely but we’re really not sure we want to.

After retiring in June of 2007, we both did quite a bit of subbing until we left for Japan in February 2008. In Japan, we taught full time for 12 months with our longest break being only two weeks. It was an amazing experience but, by the time it was over, we were definitely ready for a break from the classroom. We decided that we wouldn’t put our names back on the sub list until at least the end of this October. There’s a shortage of qualified substitute teachers in this area, however, and we hadn’t been back in town for 24 hours when the phone rang the first time and we were asked if one of us could come in the following day! We declined but the phone continued to ring quite regularly throughout the remainder of the school year. We thought it might begin again in September but, since our names still didn’t appear on the list, I guess the message finally sank in.

Neither of us would mind subbing occasionally if we always knew in advance and could plan accordingly. There are many times when teachers have medical appointments or workshops to attend and are able to book their subs in advance but there are also those early morning phone calls! We remember the times when we woke up sick during the night and simply couldn’t go to school in the morning and sympathize with the poor teachers who find themselves in that boat but we’ve developed the delightful habit of sleeping in until 8 o’clock most mornings and dread the thought of the phone waking us an hour or more before that! With flu season upon us, we know that that could happen frequently.

It might not be too bad if we were certain that the phone would only ring once but, unlike most larger jurisdictions, there’s no central dispatch for subs in our area. Each teacher is responsible for calling their own sub so a person can end up fielding many calls for the same day. We also know that ours is a number that many teachers would call first because they have a two for one chance of getting someone.

For many years, in spite of the fact that I enjoyed my teaching career, I had what I called my “school dreams” in the days leading up to each new school year.  These were dreams in which everything went wrong.  All a teacher’s worst nightmares would visit me as the end of August approached! One of the nice things about retirement has been the absence of these dreams; until the past week, that is! Since we started discussing whether or not to begin subbing again, I’ve had several “school dreams” and in each one, I’ve been a substitute teacher! I spent one night dealing with a mixed class of grade 1 and grade 9 students and another night with a class of unruly high school English students who were supposed to be writing stories.  Instead, some of them laid on the floor, hid behind the shelves, or wandered in and out of the classroom while others gathered around tables and played cards! Last night even Richard had a “school dream”!  He dreamt that two of the most difficult students that he ever dealt with were in the same grade 5 class. In real life, these two young men are close to a generation apart in age but dreams are like that. They don’t always make a lot of sense but I wonder if these ones are telling us something?

The unfortunate part of substitute teaching is that it can sometimes be as trying as the scenarios in my dreams. I subbed for three years earlier in my career and during that time, I worked hard to establish a reputation amongst the students. I knew I’d succeeded when I walked through the halls of the high school and heard comments like “Oh no, it’s her!  We’re going to have to work today.” It wasn’t easy building that rep though and I’m not sure if I want to try to do it all over again.

On the other hand, we still love kids and winter is going to be long so maybe…  All I can say for sure at this point is that we have definitely decided not to do anything for another week or so, so that if we do walk into a classroom again, it won’t be until the post Halloween sugar highs have run their course!

Thanksgiving

Written Sunday, October 12:

We missed Thanksgiving while living in Japan last year. We’re making up for it with two celebrations this year. Yesterday, I prepared the traditional turkey dinner at my parents’ home here in Vancouver. We were joined around the heavily laden table by my older brother, Donald; our son, Matt; his wife, Robin and our littlest grandson, Sam, who at just fifteen days old, weighed less than the turkey! It was his first introduction to his greatgrandparents. Today, we’ll be joining Robin’s family for a second Thanksgiving dinner at her parents’ home.

As we approached this Thankgiving season, I began to ask myself what I am truly thankful for this year.  Here, in no particular order, is a list of things that came to mind:

-   the free gift of salvation that makes everything else in life worthwhile

-   family, particularly the addition of grandchildren to my life

-  dreams come true, especially the opportunity to spend a year living in         Japan

-   the amazing country that we call home and the opportunity to enjoy so        much of it this year

-   retirement, the freedom to do what we want to do when we want to do it

-   good health

-   wonderful friends

-   financial security

-   contentment

What more could anyone ask for? I am truly blessed.

Crossing the bridge

We don’t have internet access at my parents’ home in Vancouver but I’m writing anyway and will post whenever I’m able.  The following was written on Saturday, October 10.

I’ve been afraid of heights for as long as I can remember but today I challenged that fear and won! Overcoming this phobia has actually been a long and gradual process. When my children were young I was determined not to pass my fear on to them so I forced myself to do things and go places that I might otherwise have avoided. I remember riding the glass elevator up the outside of the CN Tower in Toronto with them in 1991. I stood as far back as I could and still, by the time we reached the top, the brochure that I was carrying literally bore the imprint of my white knuckled fingers, I was clutching it so tightly.

I’ve also been determined to live life to the fullest and not to allow fear to keep me from seeing and experiencing all that it has to offer. Consequently, over time the fear has gradually diminished. Climbing Mount Fuji last year was a definite turning point. Since we climbed at night and couldn’t see beyond the area that was illuminated by our flashlights, my fear didn’t really kick in until after sunrise the following morning when we began our descent. At first, I was almost paralysed but once you’ve reached a mountaintop, staying there isn’t an option! I had no choice but to force myself to begin the downward climb. The trail was wide and, in my head, I knew that it was perfectly safe but that didn’t make it any easier. As I forced myself to continue putting one foot in front of the other, however, I gradually relaxed and began to enjoy the views laid out below us. By the time we reached the bottom, I knew that I had conquered a giant.

This fall, on a particularly windy day during harvest, it was necessary for either Louis or I to climb to the top of one granary to check whether or not it was full and then another to open the hatch. The only ladder that we had at our disposal was quite flimsy and in the wind, we didn’t consider it safe enough so he lifted me to the top of the granaries in the bucket of his front end loader!  To reach the hatch on the second one, I had to climb out of the bucket onto the top of the granary. There was a time when I couldn’t have forced myself to do that but it was actually fun. That’s when I knew it was time to challenge my long held fear of suspension bridges!

For several years, while growing up, I lived within walking distance of Lynn Valley Canyon in North Vancouver. As a terrified teen, I crossed the suspension bridge that dangles some 50 metres above the canyon a few times but I always had nightmares afterward. Returning as a adult some years later, I was unable to step foot on it. Even though the children were with us, I simply couldn’t force myself. They crossed with their father and grandfather while I stood by and watched.

Before we came to Vancouver this time, feeling confident that my fear was finally under control, I determined that we would visit the park again and that I would cross that bridge. I thought to go one day next week when the park wouldn’t likely be crowded and I might even be able to cross alone without the vibration caused by many people crossing at once. This morning, however, we woke to beautiful sunshine and even though it’s a long weekend and I knew that the park would be busy, I decided that today was the day.

We went directly to the bridge and I crossed, not once, not twice, but five times! The first time, I stepped out confidently but crossed with some hesitation and didn’t look down. The second time, I stopped midway and enjoyed the view and by the fifth time, I crossed without even touching the handrails! What a victory!

Will fear of heights ever threaten me again? I don’t know, but if it does I know that I will remember that I’ve crossed the bridge and hopefully that will give me the courage to step out in confidence.

Meeting Sam

Last Friday was our 33rd wedding anniversary. We drove to Calgary that day and spent the weekend with our daughter, son-in-law and 17 month old grandson, Andrew. While we were there, the first snow of the season fell. In my opinion, it came much too early!

Monday was my birthday. We left Calgary that morning and drove to Cranbrook, BC via Banff and Radium. The drive through the mountains was spectacular with fresh snow and sunshine on the peaks and fall colours all around us. What a gift!

After spending the night with friends, we continued our journey to Vancouver the following day to meet our newest grandson, Sam. What an exciting moment that was! Because we were living in Japan when Andrew was born, we didn’t meet him until he was over 10 months old. Needless to say, we’re cherishing the opportunity see and hold newborn Sam who is sound asleep in his bassinet behind me. I can hear his tiny breaths and little grunts as I write.

In addition to enjoying our time with the grandchildren, it’s been a pleasure to watch our children become parents. Melaina has proven herself to be a wonderful mom and to see Matt, a competent world traveler and soon to be full fledged lawyer, tenderly holding his wee son in his big hands and to hear him extolling the virtues of a new baby stroller or comparing diaper brands is truly delightful! As grandparents, we couldn’t be prouder.

I am Sam’s Gram!

No, it’s not the title of a new Dr. Seuss story, it’s a birth announcement! I have a brand new grandson! Sam Donald Glen DeBock was born to our oldest son, Matthew, and his wife, Robin, on Saturday, September 26.  He weighed 7 pounds 6 ounces. Sam shares his Daddy’s middle names and was named for his four great grandfathers; Robin’s grandfathers Sam and Donald as well as Matt’s grandfathers Donald and Glen. Though little Sam had some initial breathing difficulties and remained in the hospital until yesterday afternoon, he’s home and all is well.  Matt reports that he’s fantastic and we’ll soon be off to Vancouver to see for ourselves.  I can hardly wait!

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” Dr. Seuss

Fall is in the air

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my retirement years would include seasonal farm labour but it’s harvest time again and I’ve spent many hours on a combine this week! Though harvest is late this year, we’re enjoying an unusually warm and dry September allowing us put in long productive days. As I cross the golden wheat fields, I’m surrounded by the beauty of the season and can almost see the leaves turning brilliant shades of yellow and orange around me.

Fall holds another delight for us this year.  Our second grandchild is due just two weeks from today! Since he’ll be putting in his appearance in Vancouver, we’ll be on the road again when harvest is over.

Fall is also drama season. Five performances of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol are scheduled for the last two weekends of November. Auditions have taken place, the cast list has been posted and the first rehearsal took place this week. Since we can’t commit to a heavy rehearsal schedule this year, Richard and I have both taken very minor roles this time. Fortunately, our director understands the importance of both harvest and meeting new grandchildren!

Golf, golf and more golf

I’ve played a lot of golf over the past week. It started last Sunday with the Club Championship, our annual members only tournament. Eighteen holes of competitive play determined the men’s, women’s, junior’s and senior’s champions for the year. I wasn’t particularly happy with my play during the competition but the day ended on a great note. After a delicious steak supper, those who chose to do so participated in a “horse race”. Based on the day’s performance, high scorers are partnered with low scorers and the game is played with partners hitting alternate balls. At the end of each hole, the teams with the highest scores are eliminated until only the top two or three teams remain by the ninth hole. In this case, we started with 14 teams all hitting off the first tee. Unlike a serious golf game where it’s very poor etiquette to make noise of any kind when another player is hitting, a horse race involves lots of heckling and good natured teasing. Because I hadn’t golfed particularly well during the day, I had the good fortune to be partnered with the men’s champion and we came in second, winning a percentage of the $5 per person entry fee. It wasn’t a large amount of money but it was the fun of participating and winning that counted.

On Wednesday mornings, we enjoy playing senior’s golf which is open to everyone aged 50 and over. This week was our annual wind-up. We played nine holes in the morning with cash prizes going to the top three male and female golfers in both gross score and net score categories. Net scores are calculated using handicaps which are based on scores from throughout the season. Richard played well and won third prize in the men’s net score category. Again, I didn’t play particularly well. During the afternoon, we played nine holes of fun golf that involved a number of silly games and lots of laughter.

Thursday evening is ladies night but, because I had a drama meeting that evening, I decided to go out for nine holes in the afternoon and ended up scoring a personal best of 42! What amazed me most was how easy it seemed. I really can’t figure out why I can’t golf that way all the time! It’s the good hits and the good games that keep us going back to this crazy sport so, of course, I had to go out again yesterday to see if I could do it again! I couldn’t but I did play pretty well so when some friends called to see if I wanted to go for another round in the evening, I did. I matched my afternoon score and was feeling pretty pleased with myself and fired up for today, the annual ladies tournament.

Maybe it’s competition that causes my game to go downhill. After playing so well the past couple of days, I couldn’t do it today! I had some good holes and some bad ones, some lucky breaks and some not so lucky. In the end, my score was a little higher than average. Like many tournaments, this one is flighted or grouped in such a way that golfers of all levels have a chance to win something. Though I wasn’t entirely happy with my score, it was good enough to win fourth place in the second flight and I came home with a lovely sweater. It isn’t the prize that made the day a great one, however. I golfed with two ladies from our club and a guest from another town who were all fun to be with. Our ladies tournament is also a fundraiser for the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation. As this dreadful disease claimed the life of a very dear friend three years ago, this makes it very meaningful to me. In addition, we had fantastic weather today which is almost unheard of for this particular tournament. I remember years when ladies rode their golf carts wrapped in quilts because it was so cold out and once, we played the entire day in our rain suits because it was so wet! What a delight it was to play in beautiful sunshine! As the day progressed, the wind got stronger and at times, it played havoc with our balls but it did keep away the mosquitoes which have been terrible lately.

The various competitions of the past week spell the beginning of the end. The golf year is winding down. The course will be open for another month until just after Thanksgiving but I don’t expect to play much more now that harvest has begun. Richard has been swathing grain almost every day this week and beginning Monday, I expect to be combining. As much as I enjoy golf, I also love my time on the combine so that’s just fine with me!