Why I haven't been posting

meow moon

When the moon is just right it seems to have a fairly significant effect on me and my family.
Most of the time, the effect will be quite tame and simply make us want to sit outside in the moonlight after the kids are in bed, and make a fire in the copper fire pit...perhaps enjoy a drink.
But there are other times when the children will go completely berserk, and all start acting like cats, complete with their own water dish.

Illustration Friday "Skyline"

This is one of the only things I've ever painted. When I saw this week's topic, I thought I'd see what everyone thinks. This has also been my blog's banner for a few months now.

I'll also ask a question that The Unknown often asks..."Do you love me?"

Week number one

This week has been all about summer...cool blue drinks, clothes lines, and home renovations. Only 60 days of holidays left..whatEVER will I do next?

off a duck's back

I'm not all that surprised that my children look a lot like me. In fact, it's quite natural that they do, isn't it?

Today, for me only, was "take the boys to work" day. Joyce and the girls were in the next province over to the right celebrating Arianna's 12th birthday. I was left to manage with the boys. No problem. In fact it was fun to have some time all alone as the Hildebrand men.

The plan was for the babysitter to come over in the morning so that I could head off to my second last day of work before summer holidays. Two days of administration...no students. Simply cauterizing loose ends and enjoying a complementary catered lunch.

This morning, however, when it came time to leave for work, Sammy would not have anything to do with me leaving. He ran to me, with a look of panic in his eyes, and began to cry. I couldn't leave him, so I decided to take him with me. Nothing really pressing to do at work anyway, and it's always nice to show off the gene pool.

As I was entering the school, Sammy got a little ahead of me and got lost in the legs of a few others who where entering at the same time a few paces ahead of me. I knew there would be comments from the females about a cute little three year old boy. What I didn't expect to hear was, "He's just a cute version of Brian".

Thanks ladies...no harm done.

Full Market Value

The price of pork is in a constant state of flux. If you watch the price at the grocers, you would never know, but if your income depends on a steady standing, you watch it intently.

I am a school teacher, and so for me, I couldn't give a rat's ass about the price of pork...or so I thought.

A few minutes ago I received a phone call from my brother-in-law who is the owner/operator of a large Southern Manitoba hog farm. Every seventeen weeks he receives, fattens, and ships off to market 5,000 hogs. Every now and again, during shipping time, there will be the odd hog with a limp or some sort of blemish which would make it unacceptable at the processing plant. One of the options is destroy the animal and send it off to the rendering plant. Another option is to call anyone you know and ask if they want 500 pounds of free pork, minus the cost of private butchering.

I spent the last few minutes with my hands waving in the air like a little schoolboy shouting out, "Pick me, pick me."

I just may have to buy another deep freeze to store all of this "other white meat" but at least I know what I'll be eating this summer. Anyone for a pork BBQ?

The Sacred Feminine

Life is all about curves. We are made of curves, curves turn us on, curves are thrown at us, curves make us change our course, we look for what is around the curve, and we are evaluated on how well we negotiate curves.

The curvature of the spine. Spring training. Plans for the weekend. There's the pitch...and it's a curve ball to the lower right side. Lower back pain. Suddenly I'm concerned with negotiating my way through this unwanted event. I find myself alone in a house all weekend, flat on my back with a pain in my back. What a pain in the ass. Training buddy calls and says, "Are you ready to go?" Through gritted teeth I calmly say, "No, not tonight, I've got a headache." and hope that he's not too disappointed.

The Cherry veneered Walmart bookshelves are crammed with new books waiting to be read. I knew I would get around to them eventually. I start and finish this one, and begin to look for hidden codes in the stippled ceiling...as there is not much else to do when laying flat all day.

Su Doku puzzles. The easy ones are easy and the hard ones are difficult...go figure.

National geographic on the TV captures me with the pretty pictures. Elephants. Big ones. The ladies are in charge. Matriarchs they're called. I think of the Davinci Code and the Sacred Feminine. Another channel talks of violence against women and I think of our Patriarchs and wonder at how wrong it is.

Too much TV and I've got another headache. Time for more medication and another nap. I wake up thinking that I should probably eat something...it has been a day and a half without food. Too late. Too much anti-inflammatories and no food makes for a half a day wretching over the porcelain throne. More back spasms. I lay on the cold floor with tears in my eyes and wish that one of those Matriarchs would crush my head and take my life.

Sunday morning...race day. Happy Father's Day. The family is out of the country and my friends are running in Winnipeg without me. I feel envious and guilty. The church programs on TV offer no comfort. I long for something to hold, so I crawl to the bookshelf. I find what I'm looking for. I get a good start and wish that I could start again. There are many more things in life to hold sacred than "The Sacred".

Negotiating the curve. Self-Evaluation. I think this curve was part of a divine plan. Spring training. Today is race day.

Let me in

Some days as I sit at my desk and try to find some activities for my German students to do to kill time until the end of the year, my mind wanders to the times I've spent in German speaking countries.

One of my favourite places in the whole world, besides home, is Austria. A number of years ago, when Joyce and I were about two months into our dating relationship, I packed up my touring bike and panniers and flew to Zurich, Switzerland. My destination was Salzburg, Austria, but I wanted a drop off point where I could do a fair amount of cycling on my way to where I would end up. I very quickly realized that I had not planned nearly well enough. In fact, I hadn't planned at all for cycling in Europe. I had no idea of the system of autobahns and roads suitable for cycling. It did not take me very long to realize that I was in over my head, so I cycled to the nearest hauptbahnhof (train station) and booked a ticket for me and my bike to Salzburg.

I knew Salzburg quite well as I had spent quite a bit of time there three years earlier. The city and surrounding areas are filled with visual and cultural treasures way beyond imagination. I took the Sound of Music tour once again with Panorama Tours, felt the mystery of the city's hilltop castle, and made my way to the nearby town of St. Gilgen.

When I checked into the youth hostel, I was asked if I would like a key to get into the front door after hours. They said that I might need it if I wanted to stay out late at some of the local clubs. As I had never been to a club in my life, I immediately said "nein danke", and felt confident with my decision.

After sorting my belongings and claiming one of the eight bunks in the room, I headed off to the main walking area of town where I very quickly found a quaint restaurant with a patio. I sat down and ordered "eine beer, bitte". Not more than five minutes later, along came two lovely ladies from somewhere across the English Channel. It was nice to hear their conversation as a familiar tongue takes far less concentration to follow. We looked over at each other about twenty or thirty times when one of the two finally came over and invited me to join them. "Where are you from?" and all that nonsense took no time to pass on the way to their invitation to join them at a local disco. I eagerly accepted and couldn't wait to see a real club...a European club at that.

It didn't take too long for the lovely pair to figure out that I wasn't a willing participant in making pelvic sandwiches or playing tongue touché, as I was quite enamored with my fresh love back home. That didn't stop me from making an utter fool of myself when it came to doing some funky solo dancing to Van Halen's Jump. After that song, which noone but me seemed to know, I decided that it was time to go. I bid my lady friends adieu, I'm sure they were relieved, and headed back to the hostel.

About halfway there, I began to think that it may have been a good idea to have accepted that key to the front door. I spent the next two hours banging on doors and windows, and calling out, "Konnten Sie die Tür bitte öffnen?" ( Could someone please open the door?). I sat quite despondent for some time before someone finally came out from the inside. They were on their way out to a club. I thanked them, and, feeling quite relieved, went to my room.

As the the chap from China in the bunk next to mine snored away, I thought about clubs, and that I haven't really missed out at all.

Good Morning

We all have them don't we...a person in our lives that just seems to rub us the wrong way. Some of these people, when doing their best rubbing, seem to find the most annoying times to do their rituals, making the pain all the more, well, painful.

Mornings are often difficult enough for some people without having to deal with a Proverbs 27:14 greeting. There's something insanely irritating about a loud, uninvited, and insinsere "Good Morning." On the other hand, there's the man from the Viagra adverts who, you know for damn sure, is, understandably, loud and, on the verge of explosion, sincere. It's hard to hate a man for being so genuinely happy.

I recently received this forward:

"In Pharmacology, all drugs have two names, a trade name and generic name. For example, the trade name of Tylenol also has a generic name of Acetaminophen. Aleve is also called Naproxen. Amoxil is also call Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen.

The FDA has been looking for a generic name for Viagra. After careful consideration by a team of government experts, it recently announced that it has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin. Also considered were Mycoxafailin, Mydixadrupin, Mydixarizin, Dixafix, and of course, Ibepokin.

Pfizer Corp. announced today that Viagra will soon be available in liquid form, and will be marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable for use as a mixer. It will now be possible for a man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously we can no longer call this a soft drink, and it gives new meaning to the names of "cocktails", "highballs" and just a good old-fashioned "stiff drink". Pepsi will market the new concoction by the name of: MOUNT & DO.

Thought for the day: There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there should be a large elderly
population with perky boobs and huge erections and absolutely no recollection of what to do with them. "

Normally, forwards are like those unwelcomed loud morning greetings, and I immediatley delete them. But not from this source...she always has a sincere, and thoroughly thoughtful greeting for me.

Bigger than a lake

Today I gave my grade 7 and 8 history students a chapter review test. We had studied the time period ranging from The Middle Ages through The Renaissance, The Reformation, Colonialism and ended with the Industrial Revolution. Much of our study included map work, as one really cannot grasp relative location without it.

As a middle years teacher, I spend much of my time repeating myself. I've taken to making checklists with topic headings and marking each time I mention a topic, just to make sure that I have mentioned everything at least five times.

As I was preparing the test, I thought to put a significant emphasis on mapwork, as it had been so important during the study time. I also remembered to let the students know each day the week before the test that there would be a significant map section on the test, including five times yesterday, the day before the test. The map section would include locating and naming all the continents, several countries covered in the time period, and any body of water larger than a lake within the area of study...bodies of water that end with sea, canal, channel, seaway, ocean, etc.

I wasn't surprised at all today when some of the students, after looking at the first section of the test, the map section, said, "You didn't tell us there would be map questions." I simply smiled and showed them my checklist.

As I sit here and correct the map section, I'm looking at some of these bodies of water and recalling some of the ones I've been to, and wonder if and when I will see some of the others. I think it's time for a holiday.

How many bodies of water larger than a lake have you been to?

Production and Transfer

I did not expect to see this. When I first noticed them, they were still far off in the partially cloudy distance. It took me only a moment to process what they might be. Immediately I recalled the last time I passed by here and wondered at what that Euro style crane was doing standing awkwardly in a Manitoba farmer's field. They couldn't be putting in skyscrapers here could they? Are there that many retiring farmers who need senior's housing?

There were at least fifty spinning steadily in the persistent South Westerly. Fifty giant exclamation marks rising from the warm soil. A farmer in the distance was sowing his crops. I wondered if he protested their presence. I felt as though I was a part of something progressive. Their presence was made beautiful through their purpose. They have a special purpose, just like Steve Martin did when he played The Jerk.

The power to create. To produce something out of nothing. Wind power. Invisible power. Spirit power. You can't see it, but you know it's real because you can see what it does.

Once the power is produced, it needs to be transfered. There is beauty in the mode of transfer, just as there is beauty in the production. The older vessels also stand awkwardly but familiarly on the landscape. They bring comfort to those around of the Spirit's presence, although some would rather that they be put underground to deny it's existence while still enjoying it's benefits.

Leaving Piltdown

Beside me spins the wheel in the hamster cage. "Made in England", during the Industrial Revolution, I assume. As it spins, it brushes against the bed of wood shavings on the bottom, making a rythmic scraping. The hamster seems to know that he is going nowhere, but keeps purposefully running.

The attraction of the feed becomes too strong, and he rejects the wheel, leaving it for the upper level where the cash is stored. Nibble, nibble - some food for thought. Back to the race...I'm sure I can win this time.

Could someone tell me where the door is?

I closed my eyes...

...drew back the curtain

To see for certain, what I thought I knew.

Far, far away, someone was weeping,

But the world was sleeping.

Any dream will do.

When I was a child, we did not have a television for much of the time. All of my friends had at least one in their home. I always wished that my parents would just give in to all the pressure we were putting on them, but they never did - until...

One day, when I was a little older, perhaps 11 or 12, my brother Randy was going to an auction sale. I had saved up some money and wanted to go with him to see if my $30.00 would get me anything. He willingly took me. We arrived early to have a look around before the bidding began.

I remember walking past it first off all, and not giving it a second thought, when it struck me...my $30.00 just might get me this. It was a 12 inch black and white portable T.V., brand new in the box. I couldn't think of anything else from there on. I had to have it...but what if the bidding goes higher than what I had? Let's just hope it doesn't.

After what seemed all night, my item came up. The air in that room was thick with dust from shuffling feet on the dirty concrete floor. I was sick with tension. I felt like a tightly wound wind up toy ready to release. The bidding began. I raised my number a number of times and nodded like I'd seen some of the old guys do, not smiling now...this is not a friendly game. Bloody serious. We were at 22, then 24, then 28. I shot a panic glance at Randy and he knew my thoughts. Somehow we came to the agreement that he would lend me the money if I needed to go higher. And higher it went...all the way to $50. But it was mine...all mine, new in the box with the twisty thing still holding the power cord newly coiled from the factory.

The memory of bringing it home and into the house is a little vague, but what I do remember is that we didn't plug it in that day because dad said it was cold and it would have to warm up over night. Electronics are fussy that way.

I'm also not certain how we came to this conclusion but my parents didn't think that it would be right for me to have my own T.V. when it was the only one in the house. So they bought it from me. Well actually they gave me my $30 back and gave Randy his 20. And seeing as it was sort of MY T.V., I got to have it in my room. Or rather in our room, as I shared a room with Garry and Randy.

The television soon became an instrument to draw the family together. I remember well our family all crowding into my bedroom to watch one of our favourite T.V programs...The Donny and Marie Show. I don't know if anyone in the family knew it, but I loved that show. I loved it so much that I would cry silently whenever it was over. The smiling pair would sing their closing song and I would be a blubbering mess. Most kids I knew wanted to run away and join the circus, but I wanted to join the Donny and Marie show. I always wondered if they were Christians, which was something we would ask of all television stars. Finding this out would be our justification for watching any program. They had to be...how could you look so happy and not be a believer?!

Now that I am older and much more seasoned, I found myself still crying with the Osmonds. Or at least with one of them. Every time I watch Joseph and the Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat with Donny Osmond, I cry during the song Any Dream Will Do. I really don't know what it is, but it's a very real feeling of longing.

I feel that this is somewhat of a coming out of the closet moment for me. Most people wouldn't want to admit they liked the show. I guess I should also tell you I loved The Lawrence Welk Show, The Carol Burnett Show, Sonny and Cher, and the Irish Rovers. It must have been all that happy happy love joy stuff that drew me in.

What do you see when you close your eyes?

(the above photo was taken today at Arianna's soccer game, eyes closed, with camera pointed at random...lucky shot...and no cropping either)

How does your garden grow?

I noticed my Pembina Plum blossoms yesterday...

...and my sugar plum noticed me.

Here I sit, broken hearted...

Every time I sit in my bathroom, my eyes come to focus on a spot on the floor. It usually takes just a moment, and then the image becomes clear once again.

I got the inspiration for this post from visiting a post by Caroline, where she seems to have the same kind of vision as I do.

The lovely and shy Princess Diana in my bathroom tile?

Night Vision

Six days until my first road race. Sunday morning 8:00am I hope to finish in the top 15% of 1500 runners in the Winnipeg Cops for Cancer half marathon.

One thing I appreciate about the Spring is the early appearance of the sun. Running in the dark has never appealed to me, and so now when I get up at 6:00, it's nice to see that the sun has already kicked at the darkness and it has started to bleed daylight.

There is an almost endless kicking sound...or a pounding if you will, when runners run. It's that endless sound what drives us forward, setting us into a numbing trance. It's the trance that allows us to come to the finish without stopping. Kicking at the night, endlessly pounding the ground in an effort to shave some time. A little more of this to shave a little of that. I often wonder why I do it while I am doing it...but when I am done, then I know. I can clearly see the motivation, even if I sometimes have to run in the dark.

I'm So Vain

Cherrypie has tagged me. I must list six random things about myself, and then tag six more people. She has instructed me to first post my six things, then go to six other blogs and let them know they are tagged and to find the details on your blog.

Some people are tagged often and find it to be annoying. As it's my first, this seems like fun...so here it is:

1. This morning I sat ALONE in the 30 person hot tub, after completing my 100 lengths of the 25 metre pool, and I found myself embarrassed to find that my fingers were tapping along to a dance mix version of You're So Vain by Carly Simon. Did I mention that I was in the hottub alone?!
2. I am allergic to nothing... but everything I eat gives me gas. (perhaps that's why I was alone in the hottub)
3. I've been playing the guitar for 31 years.
4. I smoked my first cigarette when I was eight, and there was a group of us who used to roll brown dried corn hair in cigarette paper whenever we couldn't sneak smokes from Brad Friesen's dad. I also smoked for three years in high school and then again for six more years after my first undergraduate degree. I have been smoke free for seven years.
5. I love to cook, although I don't often. One of my favourite things to make is Prairie Blackbean Soup, who's recipe I lifted from the Westin Hotel in Winnipeg while working as a waiter. I will one day send the recipe to Cream so he can post it in his Food Blog.
6. My favourite time of day is the first two hours after I get home from work. The work day is finished, the family is all at home, and I have not yet begun to think about the next day's work. All of this combined with a favourite drink makes for a precious two hours.

Now it's your turn...

Darren

Christy

Carol

Shelley

Christine

And anyone else who cares to be vain.

In my neighbourhood

I’m the sort of person who thinks really highly of himself, and feels that there will be something extrememly important waiting for him in the mail.That’s why I stop here on the way home each day.

Today was no exception. I walked down the short hallway to box 1018.

I opened the box, and lo and behold...I am important after all. A package awaits. With card in hand, I head over to the service desk.

Oooooh...I wonder what it is? It comes all the way from British Columbia. The post lady plays along with an understanding smile. I immediately take it home and place it on the dinner table.

What do I do now? Should I wait until Joyce is in the house? Nah...I can’t wait.Where’s my pocket knife? Oh yeah...it’s in my pocket.

Aha...there it is. Just as promised...six business days later. WONDERFUL.

Andrea Pratt's Apple Branch .

THANKS ANDREA PRATT.You’ve made Brian one Happy Mennonite.

Easter Appendage

My camera and I, we are one in the same.

I always have it with me, to miss these would have been a shame.

My son whom I love, all cloistered in Red,

Played all the day long, "Is it really time for bed?"

Chalk Talk

Going for an Easter day walk, we passed by my favourite driveway in all the town. But who has $20,000.00 to drop on something to drive on?

Happy Green Nephew

Kathy's Fancy Foot

You're Welcome

(The Buhler's beautiful home)

There are many reasons to claim that Fridays are good. This one is especially good in that it is a remembrance of a three day event which is the basis to an ever-evolving faith which I claim to share. I say it is evolving because there seems to be many things which I once held very closely, but now my grip has loosed. I am less certain of many things and have abandoned the incongruent ones, although the essence of my faith is still intact. That's what makes Easter so good. To me it signifies the entire message of Christ. It is a bringing together of souls that were doomed to be apart. Christ's entire life was a song which sang this beautiful chorus. Easter was the finale.

We have been singing a similar song in our life. We are fortunate to have a group of friends who ache to be together... and as often as possible. These are times to forget our woes, and a time to laugh and be loved. A time for some to forget that medication is the thing that stabalizes and sustains us. It's soul time...a time to be connected, deeply known. Bearing the conclusion of these times is done only through the anticipation of the next one.

I wish for all of you that your aches will be satisfied, and that you, too, will be not far from good company when your soul calls out for companionship.

Happy Easter.

if your right hand offends you...

This morning while I was outside on the deck with a coffee in my left hand and my new camera in my right, I became a little confused as I put the camera to my lips to take a sip.

I can see where this is going. The obsession with something new is beginning. The camera has not been more than than three metres from my grasp since I bought it yesterday. As I make my way through the owner's manual, I become more excited at the prospect of more advanced photography. I was happy to capture the above photo last night at a friend's home. It's the colour, I think, that really draws me to it.

I'm a little worried about this evening as, when I go for my run, I'll be approximately ten kilometres away from my new baby. Perhaps I'll take a picture of it, and then immediately print a copy of it to take with me, seeing as now this is so convenient to do.

I know what you did last summer

Last year's garden wasn't that successful, so when I started my seeds indoors this year, I wanted to keep a close eye on them as they grew...just in case something went wrong.

So that's where I've been since my last post...carefully babying my pepper and tomato seeds as they grew and became full of promise.

I could possibly have torn myself away long enough to write something, but I've also been busy renovating several rooms in the house, being begged to and accepting a teaching position teaching German to grades 4 through 8, planning and implementing birthday parties for two of my children, purchasing a new digital camera, and buying some amazing art.

Actually, sitting around and watching seeds grow is much like seizing the moment in every aspect of life. As the seeds sprout, all sorts of beautiful changes occur, resulting in a beautiful product. There is nothing quite as rewarding as seizing each moment of every day and pouring yourself into everything you do...seeing every moment as a gift. Much like my gifts using tools to renovate, my heritage and education to be able to effectively teach, my four amazing children to humble me and bring me great joy, my excitement for electronics, and eyes to clearly see and appreciate Andrea's passion.

I know what I'll do this summer...I'll do the same as what I did last year, except now I'll be able to seize each moment in a 4 megapixeled actuation, as well as in my soul.