The 101st Post

So, to my surprise, I have passed the 100 post barrier. My mother did that in her first year of blogging. I did it with forty-six days to spare, and now can devote my attention to other goals such as making the best lemon meringue pie in the world and running all the way to the Mountain Brow and then going up and down the stairs twice. I have also managed to eat lobster and there is even a picture to prove it that may have been deleted due to the face I was making at the time. I think if you don't grow up with seafood it is harder to like it... but I am trying to be more adventurous. Also I have succeeded at barbecuing a steak. One thing I won't do is write I am in a relationship on Facebook, as tomorrow is my official Facebook emancipation day... I have been clean for almost two weeks and I don't know what to do when I am bored anymore. It is probably one of the reasons I have been blogging more. Also I'm kind of the persuasion right now that a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, that's one of my favourite U2 lyrics...

Actually I only have 101 posts on my dashboard, because I have kept some drafts I will never publish, and I have started some drafts I may publish later... I guess the celebration must be delayed until I have 100 posts published on my blog, which shouldn't be that hard to accomplish.

Summer Ceremony

10:03 am in the strawberry field
To the chorus of birds and crickets
I kneel, the straw imprinting my bare knees
with crisscrossed red lines
like the lines of a highway map
The sun warms my head and back
and heightens the patch's perfume
fragrance of ripe berries
rot of the passed over and past due
aroma of straw and rich earth
The dew collects on my hands
as I grasp plump, luscious berries
Some thud in my basket
where they lie in a heap of mottled reds
Others land in my mouth
tart and tangy
or sweet and juicy
the nectar of summer days.





This is one of my old poems from university. This year I totally missed going to pick strawberries. I guess this is an idealized version of that experience, but it is a ritual that I love. I am somewhat disappointed right now that my brother didn't get his best birthday present ever... Netherlands winning the World Cup! I hope you have a Happy Birthday anyways John! Hard to believe how old we are both getting, but as Indiana Jones says it's not the years it's the mileage! So far the road has been curving and transversing up and down, but out on the horizon there must be something, I can see it, peaking through the trees...

The 80's revisited

I seem to recall being extremely unfashionable in the eighties. It is only because I looked back in pictures and interpreted it that way, I suppose. My hair was cut in a mullet-like style at one point. I forgot it was picture day one year, and I wore a hand-me-down blue shirt, which with my very short hair-cut made me look like an effeminate little boy. That's the same year I came to a new school after moving to my current city from farther north. At one point acid-wash jeans were in, but that might have been early nineties. And tie-die was big and crimping your hair was all the rage.

The early nineties were the worst period, in my view, because I cringe every time I pass that era in my former grade school's storied hall... Everything was floral and clashing horribly with the other dresses. The smart people were wearing a solid, more classic colour, but in the end the photo still looks disastrous. We decorated our hall with teal and mauve streamers, and MWS's "Friends are Friends Forever" was played after we had dined on lasagne and caesar salad.

One thing I am thankful for is that usually I didn't bother with the poofy bangs look with the blue eye-shadow, although I wore the denim over-alls with one strap undone and walked with my back-pack only on one shoulder. I continued to wear plaid shirts well into my high school years. I just can't understand why I would want to revisit plaid, tie-dye, acid-wash jeans, poofy hair, and big floral outfits... I completely draw the line at buying another pair of overalls! The last ones I owned were beige corduroy and still embarrass me to this day... I assume we are revisiting those who actually had style, or maybe money to buy designer wear. I still remember LA Gear, with fluorescent shoe laces, and the show "Full House" that I watched taped copies of at my best friend's house.

Things from the eighties I still like are those jelly shoes made of plastic for very small feet, hand-sewn-family-coordinated dresses, little dresses bought in Florida from my grandparents, and hand-knitted little sweaters made with love by my grandmother. As for toys, I think Care Bears, stuffed animals of any type (my favourite was my Benji dog), My Little Ponies, Light-Bright, Easy-Bake Ovens, Skip-its, pogo balls, long skipping ropes, building blocks, yarn-hand-crafted-dogs, and slinkies are on my list of favourite toys. I had an imitation Cabbage-Patch doll with pink hair named Gertie Tanya, but I renamed her because I thought it was an ugly name. Mine had tight curls and my sister's had pig-tails. Now I have completely exhausted this fascinating topic, I think I will make myself some dinner... reheated left-overs sounds perfect!

My Beautiful Family

Lately I have been ever more and more grateful for my family. Here is the first photo of our entire family in five years. It was wonderful having everyone all together again, and to have so many things to celebrate!

New Every Morning

God's mercies are new every morning! So when the sun peaks out from across the empty park, when I am driving into the sun on the way to somewhere important like work or school, when I watch the sun rise as I bend over to pick some weeds that I can barely see in the cold barren season of nearly winter, and when I manage to see the car approaching the corner before the said car runs into my car, or I hit my car into a snowbank at a relatively slow speed and the airbag does not deploy, I have good reason to say "Great is Thy Faithfulness!"

Also I am now very attached to Cornelius and I hope he will stay in my life for awhile longer... I am now one of those extremely cautious drivers... Cornelius has had to put up with a lot of ignorance from me, but that he is still around is a testament to my excellent mechanic and also my parents who between them know quite a bit about cars. Also I now have a cellphone to use in emergencies so we can happily be stranded somewhere together, and eventually someone will come and rescue us... Good old CAA. Any post that begins with God and ends with the CAA must be stream of conciousness writing, and I have been trying to get away from that, but it is really how my mind is working right now, especially in the morning.

I am happy to report that the whole renewal of the mind project seems to be proceeding on schedule. And my brain is quite remarkable, because it is fighting to return to regular functioning and mostly succeeding at that. My spirit, soul, and body are also in good hands. All in all, healing is happening and it isn't me who is doing it.

Orange

If I actually owned something orange, I might wear it to church the day of the final Fifa South Africa soccer match. But I connect the colour orange to prison jumpsuits, unflattering mug shots, and much more distantly to flowers planted in gardens in protest of Nazi Germany. These same flowers sometimes later had to be eaten, if you lived in the cities during the hunger winter. I don't think orange is even my colour, and I am only probably the last Netherlands fan to jump on the band-wagon, so my opinion means very little.

That said, I remember doubting Thomases are sometimes very surprised to find solid evidence against their previous claims, so let's just say I'll be as surprised as anyone what happens in the next two matches. But I think Germany will triumph during the next match, and they are the most formidable opponent the Dutch could have to face in the final match, to my untrained eye. I really know very little about football in Europe, have never been to Europe, and I have never even left the continent of North America, though I have been to Florida and on a couple of trans-Canada tours and that is a lot of kms to travel without ever leaving two neighbouring countries. Also Europe is very, very different than it was post WWII, as is Canada and every other country in this ever-shrinking world.

Failing, On the Road to Success

I just received the lowest grade I ever have in the history of my scholastic achievements. The funny thing is I probably could have normally passed no problem, or even challenged for credit and got the course. The other unusual thing is that I don't view it as a failure at all, but as a personal success. I could have dropped the course, I could have quit, I could have taken the withdrawal W on the transcript and gone and lived my life of quiet desperation, far from the halls of academia. But I am not a quitter, and I always come from behind, and I ultimately triumph, at least in academics. I started university with a personal relationship with the Dean, and I saw him weekly for quite some time. I aced first year, and didn't look back. I got accepted to a graduate school program I never ended up taking, but I did eventually go back to school and I got into a good program. Whether I really belong in this program is a matter of debate, since I am not a college student, but an university graduate, I am more theoretically minded than practical, and I question what I learn, and I also read medical information very slowly so as to grasp the details of the material. I don't think I really belong, but I think I can adapt to the program a whole lot better than the program is adapting to me.

Isaiah 43:19 (New International Version)

19 See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert
and streams in the wasteland.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

I don't know exactly why, but I am somewhat ashamed of my Dutch heritage. Maybe the reason I have a hard time cheering for the Dutch in the World Cup in South Africa, is because I know a little bit about the history of apartheid and I can't bring myself to cheer for Orange. I don't know much about how Nelson Mandela accomplished reconciliation or how many poor are still barely surviving in South Africa. I know the future can be bright from the sun, or that precious things could ignite into flame given enough heat and pressure.

I want to cheer for the only team I can cheer for as a Canadian of Dutch descent, the Netherlands team. I am Dutch through and through, with a pinch of French from the Huguenots and maybe a touch of Freisland in the mix (if they were significant in my heritage, I am sure I would know how to spell Freisland). But the Dutch people themselves are some kind of European mix as well. Sometimes though I guess everyone has to let go of all the wrongs in the past and move on to a better future.

My maternal grandfather was somewhat scarred from his experiences in the Netherlands during the Occupation of Holland by Nazi Germany. He was hiding for most of the war and he was secretly corresponding with my maternal grandmother who he met briefly during the war. At the end of the war they married and left for Canada where they made their future together. They have been gone for over two years now and they are together and were not long separated. I think they understood much wisdom at the end of their long lives together. I look forward to seeing them again in bodies that are not failing and without any scars or bitterness. I look forward to laughing again with them and there being no more tears or death or crying or pain. I look forward to my grandmother being articulate, sharp-witted, and cheerful again and my grandfather smiling at me and showing me his beautiful flowers. I don't know why I am mourning them now, rather than at their funerals, but then my eyes were bright with unshed tears. Now I cry for myself, more than for them.

My nephew, my niece, and I

Photo credit: K. Langelaar


I am a proud aunt, because my nephew and niece are adorable, usually obedient to their mother and father, and are loads of fun... I can see both their parents in both of them, both good and bad traits too! Thankfully the two little darlings don't cry quite as easily as my older sister and I in former days! But they also are bundles of energy and sometimes need a long nap... It is so good to see a very good older brother who takes good care of his little sister so carefully, and a little sister who will try to copy whatever big brother attempts.

Happy Canada Day!

My father may have been born in Paris, France, and all my grandparents, (including my Oma, who is still doing well with seven great grandchildren and counting), may be from Holland, the Old Country, but I am Canadian (notwithstanding the facts that I don't actually like beer and that I live in the supposed arm-pit of Ontario). I am proud to be a third generation Canadian and I am glad that there are many kinds of Canadians and many new immigrants who can strengthen this country. Sometimes the newest Canadians are the proudest ones, with the best stories (although not all those stories are pleasant stories). Happy Canada Day, and may our country continue to survive and thrive and not forget its roots, while it finds its wings!

A Celebration Post

So many good things happened in this month that I couldn't end June without one final post... Here's to family, good friends, and the power of love (and yes I truly am an 80's child!) I'd give a word of wisdom, but everyone who is close to me is asking to get a word in edgewise... If I really was wise they'd probably be trying to get me to speak! Maybe once I double my age, I'll be wise enough to write an actual book. In the meantime I have this blog...

The End of the Road

Back in 2007 I joined a social networking site. Slowly I gained some virtual friends, most of whom I had one time attended classes with in some level of my education. Since I wasn't in face to face contact with many of them, they were just people who I was interested in, or who I wondered what had happened to. Also I added some new acquaintances, and accepted friend invitations from most people who requested it. Some were childhood friends, and I attempted to be thrilled about the fact that they had settled down, married their sweethearts, and started their families. In reality I was only somewhat happy for them; deep down I was envious of their circumstances. I loved to see their new babies' photos, or to read their thoughts on motherhood, but it wasn't an unalloyed joy.

At my age people say my biological clock is ticking down and that I should start a family soon. But in the end, I would rather not have the blessing of children than to marry and/or fool around with the wrong guy. It's not that I believe there is only one guy in the world I could be happy with, although I love the story of Isaac and Rebekah in the Bible. It's just that until the timing is right, I am ready, and I meet the so-called Mr. Right, children are only a distant aspiration.
I believe God knows my desires and that he actually gave me them. I also know some are called to have spiritual children and no physical ones at all. I know some would love to have a child and simply can't because of low fertility or not enough funds to care for the child. I also know some children never get the chance to even be born. It is sad to me when society looks at children as an expense or an inconvenience or as a threat to the natural world due to long-standing fears of over-population. Most mothers love their children and would protect them with their lives if need be. But sometimes people don't think they have options in the situations they find themselves in.

I started this post talking about a social networking site, and like a slow meandering river I have found myself somewhere completely different from where I thought I was headed at the beginning of this post. Suffice to say, I am leaving the social networking site for good, a process that takes about two weeks to completely finish. I will miss being connected to former and current classmates, but sometimes you have to cut deep to remove a cancer of the soul.

Why I hate Dutch Bingo

I have nothing against the game of Bingo itself, although it seems a game for blue-haired old ladies or for younger kids who only play for the pure joy of yelling "Bingo!" But Dutch Bingo I just do not enjoy. Maybe it is only because I am not very good at this particular past-time. You could argue I don't care enough about people who are distantly related to me, or that I don't like the close sense of community my people have. I could justify it by saying I just hate gossip or that I don't really care who is second cousins with whom. I could tell you I am a cosmopolitan girl who has expanded her social circle to include people very different from herself. Well, it is true I don't like gossip, although I know how it's done and can participate quite well. It is also true that I don't particularly care to trace blood-lines, and that I would consider marrying outside of the charmed Dutch circle. Sometimes I am a little sad about how many times Dutch people in Canada can divide and still seem so much the same as each other. Oh, and I am not cosmopolitan at all! Well, this computer is needed, so that's the end of my post. I hope to post some pictures of my vacation soon!

Maybe...

Maybe it's sad it took 29 plus years to realize this, but I have a great Dad! He might not be perfect, but no human father ever is. In fact my dad is such a great father I think he is the ideal father for me. So for that, I guess I can thank my Heavenly Father, who is perfect, knows all things, and planned every step of my life before I was even conceived. So thanks Heavenly Father for my earthly father! And thanks Dad for being such a good provider, encourager, and example! You are such a good father my standards are so high I will probably be especially choosey about a lot of things... Well, that's all I want to say. Over and out!

On Living and Dying

Emily Dickenson once began a poem "Heart do not break, they mend and ache..." And it is very true, your heart can be torn, it can be divided, or it can be trampled on, but it does not ever break. It isn't made of porcelain, or even bendable steel. Sometimes you yourself tear a piece out of your own heart and trust that your heart itself will mend. In the Bible it says to guard your heart for out of it comes the wellspring of life. Sometimes I think I have been looking for water in broken cisterns that cannot even hold water.
In the end, something in you has to die, before you can ever be reborn. In the end, you must choose what is your true treasure. Before it is too late, you have to decide who is really in charge of your own life, and then you may realize that your life was really a gift that was not your own at all. And then you may understand that you have been given other gifts too; some that you have buried; others that you have tossed aside, and others that you haven't even discovered yet. Jesus once said "Physician heal thyself" (KJV) and I think his point was that if we want healing we should find the source of the true living water and then journey towards that source until we reach our destination. But then we will also discover it wasn't about the destination at all; it was all about the journey. And really we all want some kind of heavenly city and some kind of garden of peace and joy and hope, and we all want a renewed earth. The world is never ever beyond redemption! Thanks be to God!

The Storm is Over

Yesterday my very good friend came over and stayed overnight. We had a wonderful day together and she was such a blessing to me this past evening. We recited some psalms from memory before sleep, and then she sang me a version of Psalm 91 she learned about ten years ago. Since she was tired she couldn't recite the whole Psalm 91, but she got the beginning and the ending, and from there we remembered most of the middle. I think we forgot "Teach us to number our days aright, so we can gain a heart of wisdom" and maybe some other phrases as well. Naturally my friend could recite Psalm 23 perfectly. She is my friend who consistently prays for me. We tend to decide to call each other at the same time, and we usually call each other at the right time. I got seven hours of sleep last night, and she is still sleeping peacefully. I am so thankful she could visit this weekend! I look forward to a lovely day together!

Back to School

Photo Credit M. den Boer


On Monday I am going back to school after a four week absence. I will complete a total of four out of the original eight courses, and then I will attack the rest in September. I call it the divide and conquer maneuver and I believe it is highly effective... Stay tuned for further developments.

A Minor Annoyance

Yesterday I got a parking ticket on my own street where I always park my car, because my car hadn't been moved for twelve hours. At the time I was ignoring my car and planning for its repairs. What annoys me is that they invent these bylaws they have no way of enforcing fairly and then they proceed to apply them as they are given complaints by the neighbourhood. I don't think the complaint was actually about my car. Yesterday I actually wrote down the license plate of someone parked illegally in front of my house. Was I planning my revenge? I am very annoyed that no one ever comes to a complete stop at the stop sign in front of our house. I think if the police need to raise funds they should have no problem ticketing all these people. I also know that that can't be their priority in my neighbourhood.

Seeing Red without the Rose-coloured Glasses

I have much latent rage nowadays. I am not sure when the volcano will actually erupt, but the rumblings are definitely there. I am angry at men in leadership sometimes (or my own father as the head of the household in which I live), other times I am angry about child abuse and molestation, other times I just burst into tears at the slightest provocation. My doctor could label it as hormones gone amuck I suppose. And I think my anger is covering up a deep hurt.... Actually I know I have a very large wound and that eventually will heal, but in the meantime I have anger and sometimes rage and often tears.

I detest the exploitation of women even in this country, I am enraged by the abuse of children, I abhor when something could have been done to stop the abuse and nothing was done. I can't stand the exploitation of the poor wherever in the world they are. I know that justice can't be done right now, but I wish there was more mercy for all the abused, exploited, and every one else who struggles just to find food or even water... I am angry because I want to be an adult now and handle all this about the world, but I feel completely powerless. Maybe these are all the things that also break God's heart, but he is not powerless at all.

All that is left for me it seems is mere prayer... I say mere prayer in the same sense CS Lewis said "Mere Christianity". In conclusion, I have realized my finiteness and discovered I can only do "small things with great love" (Mother Teresa). I can be salt, light, and God's child... I can be a branch, bearing fruit, attached to a channel of His life, I can be a sheep resting by quiet waters, I can hide in the shelter of the shadow of my Father's wings. And I can pray that in the end justice and mercy will come. I'd rather delay the justice and dispense the mercy for now.