I have been such a negligent blogger as of late - mostly just putting quotes in place so that I can reference them at a future time... on the bright side my life outside of the internet is lovely. We played host to University students as they prepared for their Europe term, they are traveling now and our home is much quieter and we miss them dearly.
On the sculpture front we realized in April that the idealism of fall - doing a major outdoor project before May - was naive at best. We informed the head of the competition that we would still be very interested in participating, but we would be unable to make the end of May deadline as the weather has just not been our friend this year. I guess growing up in Southern Wisconsin & Ontario gave us a false sense of what spring could be - and this spring here in New Brunswick has been non-existent. So glad we made that call, and that we have been invited to participate in next years competition - so we will be using the summer months (if we ever really get a summer) to create the sculpture and enter in next years competition. Good news all around.
I am heading to a 3 day silent retreat tomorrow and really looking forward to it. It is sponsored by my spiritual director and while I am a bit anxious the idea of silence and solitude, harvesting my journals and being creative without words will be special, maybe even sacred.
We are making good progress on our yard and hope to have the stone patio in place in a few weeks and then we can begin to focus on making the outdoor brick oven we hope to have in place by the end of summer. So hard to accomplish any of this with all of the yucky weather we've had, but when you look at the flooding, tornadoes and wild fires others are dealing with I guess grey, rainy days should be the least of our worries.
Hope this finds you all well, miss the heydays of blogging we used to have. But I guess that season helped us all get to where we are now. Doing a lot of writing off line now... maybe one day I'll be back to a regular blog, until then I guess it will just be random updates and interactions. Take care!
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Monday, December 27, 2010
Just lengthen the chain
Here Is Where We Meet, John Berger,
The mother says, “Let a few things be repaired. A few is a lot. One thing repaired changes a thousand others.” The son replies, “So?” And out flows a maternal speech:
"The dog down there is on too short a chain. Change it, lengthen it. Then he’ll be able to reach the shade, and he’ll lie down and he’ll stop barking. And the silence will remind the mother she wanted a canary in a cage in the kitchen. And when the canary sings, she’ll do more ironing. And the father’s shoulders in a freshly ironed shirt will ache less when he goes to work. And so when he comes home he’ll sometimes joke, like he used to, with his teenage daughter. And the daughter will change her mind and decide, just this once, to bring her love home one evening. And on another evening, the father will propose to the young man that they go fishing together… Who in the wide world knows? Just lengthen the chain."
In this season of peace, may you lengthen a dog’s chain. And then see what happens.
via
The mother says, “Let a few things be repaired. A few is a lot. One thing repaired changes a thousand others.” The son replies, “So?” And out flows a maternal speech:
"The dog down there is on too short a chain. Change it, lengthen it. Then he’ll be able to reach the shade, and he’ll lie down and he’ll stop barking. And the silence will remind the mother she wanted a canary in a cage in the kitchen. And when the canary sings, she’ll do more ironing. And the father’s shoulders in a freshly ironed shirt will ache less when he goes to work. And so when he comes home he’ll sometimes joke, like he used to, with his teenage daughter. And the daughter will change her mind and decide, just this once, to bring her love home one evening. And on another evening, the father will propose to the young man that they go fishing together… Who in the wide world knows? Just lengthen the chain."
In this season of peace, may you lengthen a dog’s chain. And then see what happens.
via
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Pennsylvania Apple Pancake
We tried a new recipe this morning and it is definitely a keeper! It's called Pennsylvania Apple Pancake - and while we never had it while we lived in Pennsylvania it is from my favorite cookbook - Food Editor's Hometown Favorites Cookbook - American Regional and Local Specialties - this one is from the Pittsburgh Press. (We tripled the recipe so I'm posting that version here)Pancake
9 eggs
1 1/2 c flour
1 1/2 c milk
3/4 t salt
Preheat oven to 450* while preparing batter. Beat eggs in a bowl; add flour, milk and salt and beat. Slightly lumpy batter makes a light pancake. Melt 2 T butter in a large ovenproof skillet. Pour butter into hot skillet and immediately place in preheated 450* oven; bake 15 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350* and bake 10 minutes longer, or until crisp and golden.
Filling
7-9 apples (I used a mixed variety we had picked at Todd's Point along with some granny smiths I had on hand)
1/4 c sugar (I used splenda)
6 T butter
While pancake bakes, prepare apples. Peel, core and cut apples. Melt 6 T butter in large skillet. Saute apples with s
ugar in butter until crisp-tender. (I added cinnamon & a dash of real maple syrup as splenda does not caramelize as well as sugar and the syrup helps). Set asideRemove baked pancake from oven. Spread apple filling over half of pancake surface. Fold pancake in half. Pour butter from skillet over pancake. Sprinkle generously with cinnamon-sugar. Cut pancake in wedges and serve with lemon (we did not have lemon, but will try next time). (NOTE: Make sure your skillet handle can tolerate 450* heat or you'll have a souffle-ed handle.)
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Putting poison into the public reservoir
"No one can keep the consequences of any evil to himself. They seep through his individual life, and run out into the community. When the Scripture says, "Be sure your sin will find you out," it does not mean "will be found out." It means what it says, "will find you out," track you down, spoil your character, destroy your happiness, ruin your influence; and because it does that, it will find your friends out, will tend to pull them down with you, will surely make goodness harder for them, and within your family circle will roll upon those who love you a burden of vicarious suffering.
If one could sin privately, he might allow himself the ignoble self-indulgence. But he cannot. Somebody else always is involved. The whole world is involved, for the man has deprived the world of a good life and given it a bad life instead. Sinning, even in its most private forms, is putting poison into the public reservoir, and sooner or later everybody is the worse for the pollution."
Harry Emerson Fosdick, The Meaning of Prayer, pg. 175-176 [X-c]
If one could sin privately, he might allow himself the ignoble self-indulgence. But he cannot. Somebody else always is involved. The whole world is involved, for the man has deprived the world of a good life and given it a bad life instead. Sinning, even in its most private forms, is putting poison into the public reservoir, and sooner or later everybody is the worse for the pollution."
Harry Emerson Fosdick, The Meaning of Prayer, pg. 175-176 [X-c]
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
From Away
This was a piece I did for my friend Idelette for her Advent Adventure series. I haven't written anything substantial in awhile, so I thought I'd include it here too.
“We’re pretty underwhelming” the voice said on the other end of the phone.
I reassured him, that stuff isn’t what we’re about.
He’s the director of the Masters program my husband and I are interested in. We were planning to visit the University to see if this was a place we could raise our family. We already knew the program fit our DNA, we had no idea what New Brunswick would be like though.
When we told people we were considering a move to St. Stephen we were told by our Canadian family that people don’t move to New Brunswick, they move from New Brunswick. It’s an area of the world that has been hit hard by progress, the brain drain and muscle drain of the lucrative western Provinces with the oil sands and industry stripped much of the able population from it’s shores.
One of my mentors in Pennsylvania, upon hearing our plans looked me in the eyes and said “Oh Heidi, you don’t want to move to New Brunswick, it’s barren.”
As a woman who struggled with infertility for the first nine years of her marriage that word created deep fear in me.
And yet it still called to us, we knew deep within us that this was the direction we were supposed to head.
We packed our trusty 20+ year old Volvo station wagon and headed on an East Coast Fall Foliage tour like we could have never dreamed of. It ended with Hurricane Wilma hitting the coast of Maine as we drove up the small two lane highway getting blasted by rain as the logging trucks sped past us.
Just a small town, a tiny University, that, from our perspective, had only existed for about a month, coupled with a sincere welcome deeply soothed our ministry trodden souls. This place felt more like home in one weekend than any of the other dozen places I had lived up to this point.
We had no idea how it would happen, but we knew that this was where we were supposed to be.
On our drive home we finally got to see the scenery we had missed on the drive up. Mountains, rivers, ocean, color, blue skies - a place pulsing with life, growth and richness. There was little sign of the scary barrenness we were warned about.
We packed everything we could (only half of what we owned fit into the moving truck) sacrificing many precious possessions we knocked the dust off our feet and prayed that the predicted blizzards would not delay our arrival.
Very early in 2006 we moved into our rented home and landed in a culture more foreign to us than any of our previous moves.
How could it feel so familiar?
Why did it feel like we’ve returned?
In the end those questions didn’t matter.
All we knew was that it did. It felt like home.
In conversation with the locals while we changed our drivers licenses, plates and set up our utilities we found ourselves in similar conversations. “Turner? Oh, you must be related to the Turners out on Little Ridge?” “Nope.” We’d answer. “Oh, then ones out in Oak Bay?” “No. We’re not related to anyone around here.” “Then why’d you move HERE? They’d ask, the same quizzical looks on their faces.
We’d talk about the University, how much we loved the ocean, how warm the people were and how we needed a change. Most of the time the expressions on their faces would deepen instead of ease. We found the quickest answer in an expression they use for tourists and interlopers. “Oh, you’re from away.” they’d state as if that explained everything.
From away.
How could that be? I finally found someplace that felt like home. Even more than the place I was born. No, I wasn’t from away, I’d think. This place knows me. This place is mine.
During one of the administrative tasks of changing over documents and registering utilities we ended up at town hall. They had the New Brunswick flag hanging with it’s white sailed ship and the Provincial motto written in Latin “Spem Reduxit”. I wrote those words down on a scrap of paper in my purse and googled it when I returned home. When I found out it’s meaning I wept.
Spem Reduxit - Hope Was Restored
That’s why this place felt so much like home.
The local joke is that your family can live here for generations and still be considered “from away”. They only consider those born and bred on the Bay of Fundy as locals.
Last spring I was celebrating with friends at a local tradition called a kitchen party - lots of instruments, singing and laughter. A friend had written a song using the motto, it is deeply moving to me. It’s called New Brunswickers Arise. I leaned over and whispered to one of my professors that I am going to begin calling myself a “New New Brunswicker” and he smiled, shook his head and said “Oh, you think it’s that easy, eh?”
Last August we finally bought our home here. We are putting down roots. Deep roots. Our family has begun to discuss how we plan to decorate our new home for the holidays. It’s exciting to know that where we decide to put the advent candle wreathe and the Christmas tree will begin a tradition that could continue for the rest of our lives. We are settling in. And no matter what the locals might think we are not from away anymore.
“We’re pretty underwhelming” the voice said on the other end of the phone.
I reassured him, that stuff isn’t what we’re about.
He’s the director of the Masters program my husband and I are interested in. We were planning to visit the University to see if this was a place we could raise our family. We already knew the program fit our DNA, we had no idea what New Brunswick would be like though.
When we told people we were considering a move to St. Stephen we were told by our Canadian family that people don’t move to New Brunswick, they move from New Brunswick. It’s an area of the world that has been hit hard by progress, the brain drain and muscle drain of the lucrative western Provinces with the oil sands and industry stripped much of the able population from it’s shores.
One of my mentors in Pennsylvania, upon hearing our plans looked me in the eyes and said “Oh Heidi, you don’t want to move to New Brunswick, it’s barren.”
As a woman who struggled with infertility for the first nine years of her marriage that word created deep fear in me.
And yet it still called to us, we knew deep within us that this was the direction we were supposed to head.
We packed our trusty 20+ year old Volvo station wagon and headed on an East Coast Fall Foliage tour like we could have never dreamed of. It ended with Hurricane Wilma hitting the coast of Maine as we drove up the small two lane highway getting blasted by rain as the logging trucks sped past us.
Just a small town, a tiny University, that, from our perspective, had only existed for about a month, coupled with a sincere welcome deeply soothed our ministry trodden souls. This place felt more like home in one weekend than any of the other dozen places I had lived up to this point.
We had no idea how it would happen, but we knew that this was where we were supposed to be.
On our drive home we finally got to see the scenery we had missed on the drive up. Mountains, rivers, ocean, color, blue skies - a place pulsing with life, growth and richness. There was little sign of the scary barrenness we were warned about.
We packed everything we could (only half of what we owned fit into the moving truck) sacrificing many precious possessions we knocked the dust off our feet and prayed that the predicted blizzards would not delay our arrival.
Very early in 2006 we moved into our rented home and landed in a culture more foreign to us than any of our previous moves.
How could it feel so familiar?
Why did it feel like we’ve returned?
In the end those questions didn’t matter.
All we knew was that it did. It felt like home.
In conversation with the locals while we changed our drivers licenses, plates and set up our utilities we found ourselves in similar conversations. “Turner? Oh, you must be related to the Turners out on Little Ridge?” “Nope.” We’d answer. “Oh, then ones out in Oak Bay?” “No. We’re not related to anyone around here.” “Then why’d you move HERE? They’d ask, the same quizzical looks on their faces.
We’d talk about the University, how much we loved the ocean, how warm the people were and how we needed a change. Most of the time the expressions on their faces would deepen instead of ease. We found the quickest answer in an expression they use for tourists and interlopers. “Oh, you’re from away.” they’d state as if that explained everything.
From away.
How could that be? I finally found someplace that felt like home. Even more than the place I was born. No, I wasn’t from away, I’d think. This place knows me. This place is mine.
During one of the administrative tasks of changing over documents and registering utilities we ended up at town hall. They had the New Brunswick flag hanging with it’s white sailed ship and the Provincial motto written in Latin “Spem Reduxit”. I wrote those words down on a scrap of paper in my purse and googled it when I returned home. When I found out it’s meaning I wept.
Spem Reduxit - Hope Was Restored
That’s why this place felt so much like home.
The local joke is that your family can live here for generations and still be considered “from away”. They only consider those born and bred on the Bay of Fundy as locals.
Last spring I was celebrating with friends at a local tradition called a kitchen party - lots of instruments, singing and laughter. A friend had written a song using the motto, it is deeply moving to me. It’s called New Brunswickers Arise. I leaned over and whispered to one of my professors that I am going to begin calling myself a “New New Brunswicker” and he smiled, shook his head and said “Oh, you think it’s that easy, eh?”
Last August we finally bought our home here. We are putting down roots. Deep roots. Our family has begun to discuss how we plan to decorate our new home for the holidays. It’s exciting to know that where we decide to put the advent candle wreathe and the Christmas tree will begin a tradition that could continue for the rest of our lives. We are settling in. And no matter what the locals might think we are not from away anymore.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Best ever yeasted waffles recipe
I'm posting this recipe here because I was glorying in the aroma the morning I made these on Facebook and friends have asked for the recipe.These are the most amazing waffles - we got the recipe from Cooks Illustrated Holiday 2007 magazine. The difference from chemically leavened (baking powder/soda) waffles is that they crisp up so beautifully and are light and airy. You make the batter the night before and let it rise in the fridge (some yeasted recipes call for leaving out on the counter, but the yeast moves too quickly and then baking soda needs to be added and the batter gets a bit tangy).
I doubled this recipe with great results and got 10 square waffles from my Black & Decker Griddle/Wafflebaker (this was rated "best buy" both Cooks Illustrated and Consumer Reports - and it's affordable - I dream of the Kitchen Aid Pro, but this one makes really good waffles (better than the Krups Belgium Iron I have too - it does look like it was made in the 80's though).
Here's the ingredients:
- 1 3/4 cups milk
- 8 tblsp. butter (calls for unsalted, but i didn't have any so I didn't use the 1 t. added)
- 2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (they go into long description of flours tried, all purpose was the best for this recipe)
- 1 tblsp. sugar
- 1 tsp. salt
- 1 1/2 tsp. instant yeast (I used Fleishman's Rapid Rise)
- 2 large eggs
- 1 t. vanilla extract
Heat milk & butter in small saucepan over medium low heat until butter is melted, 3-5 minutes (I used pyrex measuring cup and the microwave at 30 second intervals until butter was melted). Whisk flour, sugar, salt and yeast in large bowl to combine (make sure this bowl fits in your fridge and that it has enough room for the yeast to double the batch overnight). Gradually whisk warm milk-butter mixture into flour mixture; continue to whisk until batter is smooth. In small bow, whisk eggs and vanilla until combined, then add egg mixture to batter and whisk until incorporated. Scrpae down side of bowl with rubber spatula, cover bowl with plastic wrap, and put in fridge for at least 12 (up to 24) hours.
The morning:
Heat waffle iron, remove waffle batter from fridge and iron is hot (batter will be foamy and double in size). Whisk batter to recombine (batter will deflate). Bake waffles according to your waffle iron instructions and INHALE one of the best fragrances known to man - oh my heavens - it is glorious!
Serve waffles immediately or hold in 200-degree oven (baking sheet w/ cooling rack to hold waffles, cover with clean tea towel - but remove towel for a few minutes before serving to re-crisp the waffles). It also recommends room-temperature syrup as the hot syrup soaks into the waffles too quickly and softens their texture (CI thinks of everything!)
Oh, and a side note - single ladies - if your man enjoys looking at Cooks Illustrated better than Sports Illustrated put a ring on it - you won't be sorry!
Enjoy!!!
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
House Warming
Two godsends in the Turner family house - our lovely wood stove kept us cozy the other night when the temperature dropped, and our brand new wall oven got installed yesterday. We are happy, happy.
Monday, July 06, 2009
A House Blessing
My house blessing from Kel (I love it SO much! Thank you Kellie!)
May you listen to your longing to be free
May the frames of your belonging be large enough for the dreams of your soul
May you arise each day with a voice of blessing whispering to your heart that something good is going to happen to you
May you find harmony between your soul and your life
May the mansion of your soul never become a haunted place
May you know the eternal longing that is at the heart of time
May there be kindness in your gaze when you look within
May you never place walls between the light and yourself
May your angel free you from the prisons of guilt, fear, disappointment and despair
May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world to gather you, mind you and embrace you in belonging
~John O’Donohue
May you listen to your longing to be free
May the frames of your belonging be large enough for the dreams of your soul
May you arise each day with a voice of blessing whispering to your heart that something good is going to happen to you
May you find harmony between your soul and your life
May the mansion of your soul never become a haunted place
May you know the eternal longing that is at the heart of time
May there be kindness in your gaze when you look within
May you never place walls between the light and yourself
May your angel free you from the prisons of guilt, fear, disappointment and despair
May you allow the wild beauty of the invisible world to gather you, mind you and embrace you in belonging
~John O’Donohue
Friday, June 26, 2009
Of roots and foundations - An Invitation
Can't stop thinking about the house, and it's rendered me totally ineffective until our appointment with our lawyer at 4:00 today (we're signing papers today, transfer of $ happens on Monday - yikes!)
One of the things that I want to do echoes something my blogger friend Kel did as they built their glorious artist retreat/home, Anamrae, in Australia these past few years. They built from scratch, and so we can't do exactly what they are did - but our version will be very similar.
Kel asked all her family and friends (even those of us who were from far away) to contribute prayers, blessings, poems and notes that they could write on timbers and beams, drop into the walls before they were closed in and say over their home. Our basement in our new home is high and dry and one of our first projects will be to insulate the walls. Before that happens I will be letting our community loose with markers to christen and bless the foundation of our home here in St. Stephen. Words, art, smiles and prayers will literally be written upon the bricks and mortar of our home.
It has been 14 years since we have owned a home. 14 years of moving, transferring communities, leaving friends and family behind, 14 years finished. We, all four of us, long for roots. Deep roots, good foundations in this community that we call already call home. We truly love it here and it suits us well. It is not perfect, but neither are we, and it is real. We long to establish ourselves here to grow and work and live our lives.
We invite you to share a story, blessing, poem, joke, photo or anything you can think of that will add to the foundations of our lives.
You can email me at heiditurnerATgmailDOTcom or write me for our snail mail address if you'd like to mail your contribution.
We have also been wracking our brains for a name for her. She is an 85 year old craftsman/arts & crafts home with lovely woodwork and tons of character. Kel's Anamrae takes two celtic words for Soul Space and links them together. So far I haven't gotten that creative, but would love a name that speaks of roots and growth. My dear friend Anj calls her craftsman Sojourn. A prize will be awarded if a suggested name is chosen.
Thank you for celebrating with us!
One of the things that I want to do echoes something my blogger friend Kel did as they built their glorious artist retreat/home, Anamrae, in Australia these past few years. They built from scratch, and so we can't do exactly what they are did - but our version will be very similar.
Kel asked all her family and friends (even those of us who were from far away) to contribute prayers, blessings, poems and notes that they could write on timbers and beams, drop into the walls before they were closed in and say over their home. Our basement in our new home is high and dry and one of our first projects will be to insulate the walls. Before that happens I will be letting our community loose with markers to christen and bless the foundation of our home here in St. Stephen. Words, art, smiles and prayers will literally be written upon the bricks and mortar of our home.
It has been 14 years since we have owned a home. 14 years of moving, transferring communities, leaving friends and family behind, 14 years finished. We, all four of us, long for roots. Deep roots, good foundations in this community that we call already call home. We truly love it here and it suits us well. It is not perfect, but neither are we, and it is real. We long to establish ourselves here to grow and work and live our lives.
We invite you to share a story, blessing, poem, joke, photo or anything you can think of that will add to the foundations of our lives.
You can email me at heiditurnerATgmailDOTcom or write me for our snail mail address if you'd like to mail your contribution.
We have also been wracking our brains for a name for her. She is an 85 year old craftsman/arts & crafts home with lovely woodwork and tons of character. Kel's Anamrae takes two celtic words for Soul Space and links them together. So far I haven't gotten that creative, but would love a name that speaks of roots and growth. My dear friend Anj calls her craftsman Sojourn. A prize will be awarded if a suggested name is chosen.
Thank you for celebrating with us!
There's no place like home
The SOLD sign is up and we close on Monday!I can hardly believe it's true. I haven't blogged about it because I just couldn't stand the thought of having to blog about it falling through. There have been few things in life I have allowed myself to admit I wanted - a home was one, and when this process started to move forward THIS HOME was THE HOME I longed for. It hardly seems real.
I am going to document the process because it has been so amazing, but really need some mind space (and quiet) to do that in. With the kids home from school now that has been hard to find this past week. I know it will come, but this morning isn't it.
I have created an online photo album if you want to peek inside:
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| 20 Queen Street East |
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Turner Family Update
You have all been so patient - I apologize that I have gone silent. With the end of March break all three of us, Ali, Jacob & I went back to school. I am in the middle of my last two week intensive for my masters degree - and have had to focus on school. I just finished up my afternoon class and my brain is filled to the brim and I am both mentally and physically exhausted.
No news has been good news on Jacob. There has been two days of a lot of pain (Monday & Friday) where he left school - but Tuesday, Wednesday & Thursday were all three full days of school. He's had no fevers, his blood work came back with numbers that made the doctor happy and the extra mural nurse just finished hooking up his last IV bag of antibiotics. By 5:00 tomorrow night he will be free of the pump and we'll be heading to outpatient to get his PICC line removed!!!
His scar is healing well and other than the muscles knitting themselves back together and causing quite a bit of pain he is doing quite well. He's not got all of his energy or weight back yet - so we'd still appreciate your prayers - but he it is so good to have our boy back.
Alinea is doing well, she's getting ready to enter her TEEN years in less than a month (April 10th) and we're planning a blessing service/party for her.
Keith has been pulling way more than his normal load through both the sickness and school - and I am constantly amazed at how capable he is and we are regularly blessed by his incredible talents in the kitchen.
By the end of next week I will have completed all of the study terms of my program - except the travel term (Greece/Turkey this time next year) and my thesis work. It hardly seems possible that soon I'll be able to be doing reading again that I pick instead of all of the assigned reading I've been doing (or avoiding) for the past two years. I can't wait as I've got a stack of books waiting to be read.
Thanks again for your prayers, encouragement and support during this past month - we are so happy to see the beginning of the hope of spring here and the backside of winter. We shall kiss it goodbye and good riddance. It's been a long season and we're ready for new growth.
No news has been good news on Jacob. There has been two days of a lot of pain (Monday & Friday) where he left school - but Tuesday, Wednesday & Thursday were all three full days of school. He's had no fevers, his blood work came back with numbers that made the doctor happy and the extra mural nurse just finished hooking up his last IV bag of antibiotics. By 5:00 tomorrow night he will be free of the pump and we'll be heading to outpatient to get his PICC line removed!!!
His scar is healing well and other than the muscles knitting themselves back together and causing quite a bit of pain he is doing quite well. He's not got all of his energy or weight back yet - so we'd still appreciate your prayers - but he it is so good to have our boy back.
Alinea is doing well, she's getting ready to enter her TEEN years in less than a month (April 10th) and we're planning a blessing service/party for her.
Keith has been pulling way more than his normal load through both the sickness and school - and I am constantly amazed at how capable he is and we are regularly blessed by his incredible talents in the kitchen.
By the end of next week I will have completed all of the study terms of my program - except the travel term (Greece/Turkey this time next year) and my thesis work. It hardly seems possible that soon I'll be able to be doing reading again that I pick instead of all of the assigned reading I've been doing (or avoiding) for the past two years. I can't wait as I've got a stack of books waiting to be read.
Thanks again for your prayers, encouragement and support during this past month - we are so happy to see the beginning of the hope of spring here and the backside of winter. We shall kiss it goodbye and good riddance. It's been a long season and we're ready for new growth.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Home alone
It hit us both at about 10:00 last night. Crap. This is all on us now. We've got no nurses checking him through the night, making sure he's safe & sound. Just us. Why did we push to get him home? GULP. Sleep was a bit fractured because our uneasiness at realizing that this isn't just diabetic care anymore, but a much deeper awareness of his frailty and needs.
The hospital sent us home with IV drip bags of the antibiotic and vials so that the local hospital could make more in case they didn't have any in stock. Keith took Jake at 10:00 last night to the St. Stephen hospital emerg and they hooked up his PICC line to a drip for 45 minutes. They went again early this morning - even before I awoke. What a guy.
I have spent the whole morning on phone trying to organize all of the care he'll need and touch bases with doctors and nurses. In speaking with his doctor this a.m. we found out that he's got 2 full weeks more of the antibiotic necessary, and not just 3 days... dang. That changed a lot. Instead of the 3 visits to hospital for the IV's they have set up an antibiotic pump that he'll carry with him in a pack. This will let him do school next week. Poor guy. Like diabetes isn't enough? I am so grateful though for the system in place that will allow him to continue on the meds without having to stay in hospital for that extended time.
The med isn't covered by our insurance and is sky high expensive. We found out that the extra-mural nurse program will be billed instead of us. This is such a gift. 2 weeks of dosing would have crushed our family financially. Social medicine at its finest. Jake's hospital stay, the surgeries & procedures and amazing medical care, even insured in the US would strap a family so deeply that it would take years to climb out of that kind of expense. Generosity and grace at it's most practical level. We are so very grateful.
So while we're "alone" in the 4-of-us sense, we are truly not alone. We are surrounded by friends and a community that is nurturing and supportive. Such a blessing. I read this quote this morning:
This past month I have felt the support of our bundle - it has kept us going and in our fragile state from breaking. Thank you.
The hospital sent us home with IV drip bags of the antibiotic and vials so that the local hospital could make more in case they didn't have any in stock. Keith took Jake at 10:00 last night to the St. Stephen hospital emerg and they hooked up his PICC line to a drip for 45 minutes. They went again early this morning - even before I awoke. What a guy.
I have spent the whole morning on phone trying to organize all of the care he'll need and touch bases with doctors and nurses. In speaking with his doctor this a.m. we found out that he's got 2 full weeks more of the antibiotic necessary, and not just 3 days... dang. That changed a lot. Instead of the 3 visits to hospital for the IV's they have set up an antibiotic pump that he'll carry with him in a pack. This will let him do school next week. Poor guy. Like diabetes isn't enough? I am so grateful though for the system in place that will allow him to continue on the meds without having to stay in hospital for that extended time.
The med isn't covered by our insurance and is sky high expensive. We found out that the extra-mural nurse program will be billed instead of us. This is such a gift. 2 weeks of dosing would have crushed our family financially. Social medicine at its finest. Jake's hospital stay, the surgeries & procedures and amazing medical care, even insured in the US would strap a family so deeply that it would take years to climb out of that kind of expense. Generosity and grace at it's most practical level. We are so very grateful.
So while we're "alone" in the 4-of-us sense, we are truly not alone. We are surrounded by friends and a community that is nurturing and supportive. Such a blessing. I read this quote this morning:
"A single arrow is easily broken, but not ten arrows in a bundle"
Japanese Proverb
This past month I have felt the support of our bundle - it has kept us going and in our fragile state from breaking. Thank you.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Sunday update on Jacob
Keith called yesterday (Saturday) to tell me that they are thinking about releasing him TODAY! This is a surprise as Monday was the earliest I heard when I was there. He's scheduled for a chest x-ray and a CBC - so if those things come back without any red flags they are talking about releasing him later today. His endocrinologist is the doctor on call, so he's in really good hands as she's more like his aunt than his doctor. She loves him so.
He has a PICC line that they will leave in and he'll have an antibiotic pump that will dose him 4 times a day/night for the next few days - but it will let him be HOME for March Break and his birthday on Wednesday. Woo Hoo!!
He is quite weak and will need a lot of recovery at home too. He's lost a lot of weight and his hemoglobin is really low. We just can hardly believe all four of us could sleep under the same roof tonight. Hopefully the weather will cooperate as they are forecasting some pretty nasty stuff of all sorts headed our way. I'm hoping the Atlantic takes it all and it misses us completely.
Again, we are still holding our collective breath - so please keep praying. Thank you.
He has a PICC line that they will leave in and he'll have an antibiotic pump that will dose him 4 times a day/night for the next few days - but it will let him be HOME for March Break and his birthday on Wednesday. Woo Hoo!!
He is quite weak and will need a lot of recovery at home too. He's lost a lot of weight and his hemoglobin is really low. We just can hardly believe all four of us could sleep under the same roof tonight. Hopefully the weather will cooperate as they are forecasting some pretty nasty stuff of all sorts headed our way. I'm hoping the Atlantic takes it all and it misses us completely.
Again, we are still holding our collective breath - so please keep praying. Thank you.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Mom interrupted…
“Is mom mad at me?” she asked “Is everyone made at me?” she over spoke her brother as he tried to reassure her. The thin curtain dividing our semblance of privacy laid between us and I wanted to rip it back and scream “Yes – I am mad at you! Can’t you see this precious boy right here is fighting for his life? His precious, precious life. The very same life that you tried to throw away?”
I have the utmost sympathy for the girl interrupted. The 15 year old suicide survivor they we wheeled into PICU last night, who snored away the past 12 hours sleeping off whatever drugs she pumped into her system. But today, today I could only think of one thing. This son of mine, lying there fighting infection, being pumped full of who knows what, trying to keep even more unmentionable things out of his system. Today I could think of nothing but those beautiful blue eyes staring up at me pleading for answers I just didn’t have.
I looked deep into those eyes yesterday and told him “I’d give anything for it to be me in that bed instead of you Jacob.”
“No mommy, I wouldn’t want that at all.”
He is so brave. So true. Made for so much more than this.
I screamed “YOU CAN”T HAVE HIM” to God a dozen times on the drive home last night as I keened and poured out all of the deep untold emotion I had banked up during the past three days. Exhaustion so palpable I knew that only the joy of seeing my beautiful daughter kept me from pulling the car to the side of the road to sleep in the cold.
Those blue eyes haunted me. Dr. Shuba, one of his young surgeons joked with Jake earlier in the week before surgery that he was going to give him a Harry Potter scar while under the anesthesia because he reminded him so much of the young wizard.
Yesterday when he came in to check on Jake I caught him at the door. I said, look at those eyes. Today he looks more like Frodo at the end of LOTR – when they begin to CG his eyes. That desperate haunted look the little hobbit gets as the ring weighs heavily on his soul. That was the look I saw in the eyes of my 10 year old today. His body in deep need of healing and reconstruction.
My Samwise Gamgee sits next to his bed even now. Faithful father, loving husband. My Samwise will carry Frodo to this next place because I just can’t step one step farther without refilling myself. I am completely empty. Drained of every drop of hope and energy. Young boys shouldn’t have to see the desperate fear in their mothers eyes that had begun to creep into mine.
I longed to grab the mother of that teenage girl and hug her. So very different were our stories, but so very similar was our pain. Our precious offspring lay in those horrible hospital beds surrounded by tubes and pinging equipment that sounded more like a casino than a quiet place of rest.
I wanted to tell her that life is precious and the past is the past – move forward with this second chance you have been given. With this do over – let it be a fresh start to celebrate life and each other. Do everything you can to live. And when things get so tough remember the big blue eyes of my son who is doing everything he can to live.
I have the utmost sympathy for the girl interrupted. The 15 year old suicide survivor they we wheeled into PICU last night, who snored away the past 12 hours sleeping off whatever drugs she pumped into her system. But today, today I could only think of one thing. This son of mine, lying there fighting infection, being pumped full of who knows what, trying to keep even more unmentionable things out of his system. Today I could think of nothing but those beautiful blue eyes staring up at me pleading for answers I just didn’t have.
I looked deep into those eyes yesterday and told him “I’d give anything for it to be me in that bed instead of you Jacob.”
“No mommy, I wouldn’t want that at all.”
He is so brave. So true. Made for so much more than this.
I screamed “YOU CAN”T HAVE HIM” to God a dozen times on the drive home last night as I keened and poured out all of the deep untold emotion I had banked up during the past three days. Exhaustion so palpable I knew that only the joy of seeing my beautiful daughter kept me from pulling the car to the side of the road to sleep in the cold.
Those blue eyes haunted me. Dr. Shuba, one of his young surgeons joked with Jake earlier in the week before surgery that he was going to give him a Harry Potter scar while under the anesthesia because he reminded him so much of the young wizard.
Yesterday when he came in to check on Jake I caught him at the door. I said, look at those eyes. Today he looks more like Frodo at the end of LOTR – when they begin to CG his eyes. That desperate haunted look the little hobbit gets as the ring weighs heavily on his soul. That was the look I saw in the eyes of my 10 year old today. His body in deep need of healing and reconstruction.
Sam: Do you remember the Shire, Mr. Frodo? It'll be spring soon and the orchards will be in blossom, and the birds will be nesting in the hazel thicket. And the whistle in the summer barley in the Lower fields. And eating the first of the strawberries with cream. Do you remember the taste of strawberries?
Frodo: No, Sam. I can't recall the taste of food, nor the sound of water, nor the touch of grass. I'm naked in the dark. There's nothing--no veil between me and the wheel of fire. I can see him with my waking eyes.
Sam: Then let us be rid of it, once and for all. I can't carry the ring for you, but I can carry you! Comeon!
My Samwise Gamgee sits next to his bed even now. Faithful father, loving husband. My Samwise will carry Frodo to this next place because I just can’t step one step farther without refilling myself. I am completely empty. Drained of every drop of hope and energy. Young boys shouldn’t have to see the desperate fear in their mothers eyes that had begun to creep into mine.
I longed to grab the mother of that teenage girl and hug her. So very different were our stories, but so very similar was our pain. Our precious offspring lay in those horrible hospital beds surrounded by tubes and pinging equipment that sounded more like a casino than a quiet place of rest.
I wanted to tell her that life is precious and the past is the past – move forward with this second chance you have been given. With this do over – let it be a fresh start to celebrate life and each other. Do everything you can to live. And when things get so tough remember the big blue eyes of my son who is doing everything he can to live.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Sunday update
Quick catch up for those who might not know. Our son Jacob has been dealing with stomach issues for month now. He is also a T1 diabetic. It's been difficult to try to tease out the cause. This past week he began vomiting with a total lack of appetite and we assumed it was this horrible virus passing through our community. By late last week it had gotten so bad his endocrinologist recommended a trip to emerg so that we could have his abdomen examined - local hospital sent us to the major hospital and I drove Jake to Saint John.
They had a bed waiting for us in emerg and we spent the next 9 hours being poked, prodded and interviewed by a plethora of talented doctors and nurses. We had brought The Hobbit to read and we were quite content until about 7:00 p.m. - then we got a bit squirrley and really wanted the bed in paeds that they told us about around 5:00. Listening to the swirl of people and the sickness of those around us reminded us that things could be a lot worse.
Jacob's pain wasn't in the right spots and his tolerance was extraordinary. He is one brave, strong boy. Unfortunately this actually got in his way for a diagnosis. They decided to place him in PICU so that they could monitor his BSL as he was on dextrose and insulin drips and fine tuning that ratio wasn't easy. It gave me so much more peace to know that the nurse was immediately there to care for his every need as low BSL at staff change could have been very difficult for both Jake & I. So we kept following the story of the 14 on their search for treasure and watched a couple of movies. (Underdog gets a surprising thumbs up from me and Nim's Island - although I truly wanted to love this film was sappy and so disappointing). X-rays, ultrasounds and bloodwork broke up the monotony and other than Jake's unquenchable thirst we were able to make the most of our time together.
These times for Jake & I are sacred and although they are many times filled pain and fear I truly wouldn't trade them for the world. I only wish the Ali & Keith could share them with us.
The sleep I was able to get was deep and restful. I felt bouyed up by your prayers and rested in the knowledge that we were in the right place and the best of care. I am so grateful for socialized medicine. Not once in this whole time have we had to fear the cost of a test, the length of stay or the stress of an upcoming bill (and this one would be a whopper). It is a generous system and full of grace. Doctors are available and present and treated us like patients instead of paychecks. He has had over a dozen on his case and all are stellar in their care and keeping of our son.
When Jake's white blood cells started to show toxic granules the newest surgeon called in knew that it was time to schedule an appendectimy with deep assurance that if it wasn't his appendix that he had the skill and knowledge to find out what was causing the pain and fix it at the same time. Jacob now affectionately refers to his incision as his "scarth" - in honor of his surgeon Dr. Scarth :D (his anesteciologist was Dr. Nice!) .
I had assured Keith that it would be silly for him to drive up that night as it was going to be a late surgery (10:45 pm) and Jake would be out of it. I never even thought that I might need the support while he was in surgery. Sitting there alone was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. I have an amazing community who would have been there at the drop of the hat, but my only concern was Jake. I don't think I'll ever do that again. It was supposed to be a one hour surgery - so as it passed 12:01 I phoned Keith to wish him a Happy Valentines Day and told him how dumb I was to have put aside his offer to be at my side. I said he needed to talk to me until I saw someone (the whole surgery wing was EMPTY - echos - no foot steps, no other staff - just me. The kind nurse showed me where they kept the heated blankets - oh what a gift they were) because I could feel myself getting a bit frantic and panic was about to set in. I literally saw myself walking down to the surgery room just to peek in the window to assure myself he was still breathing. He was and it was only moments later that they wheeled him into recovery.
The surgeon said that the appendix was exactly where he was having his pain - below his belly button - and it was perforated and had abcessed and the infection was so vile it made a few of them wretch. He told me that as long as they can keep his sugars maintained and infection at bay he would be fine. If not he explained the full course of what horrible things could go wrong (that was the worst time to actually be alone...). Because he's T1 healing isn't always as normal as it is for others. So he's still on his Dextrose/Insulin drips, NO liquids and it could be up to three days.
My son told me yesterday that he was so thirsty that he would drink the toilet water. He begged for ice chips and I finally talked the surgeon into letting him have a very monitored amount. They explained that when the bowel is touched is shuts down. Nothing moves down - and everything is forced up. If he began vomiting life would not be much fun (and he told me there have been patients who actually did drink out of the toilet). He okay'd a few ice chips and Jacob literally cheered. Watching unmet thirst is excruciating. Even when you know it's for their own good.
We looked forward to seeing Dad & Ali and being together again. It was such incredible timing for Keith to be the one caring for Jake this past 24 hours. Dads are so very different than moms. They made a game out of the post-op exercises and he encouraged Jake to recovery that I would have coddled him through. The before bed phone call I had with them last night told me of incredible progress - new breathing exercises because he had blown past the original ones, he had been up, mobile, used the toilet, brushed his teeth and his hair, washed his face at the sink and progressed much farther than the PICU nurse had ever expected. What a relief. I was able to sink into my own bed knowing that I was going to wake up, drink my own coffee (Tim Hortons coffee is way over-rated... but still better than "hospital coffee", so I will try to refrain from complaining) and shower in my own bathroom and head to my church filled with loved ones and a community of deep caring. I was also going to get a chance to put some of this process down here. Not having the ability to type all of this out was bothersome to me. I am truly overwhelmed and blessed by the level of prayers, support and messages we have received. I only wish I had time to read and respond to each one today.
Alinea and I stopped at the grocery on the way home and purched everything we needed to make steak salads together and came home to cook and watch movies. Unfortunately mommie was WAY more tired than she knew and fell asleep at the end of the first. We decided to pass on the second and talked and cried together instead. It was so good to bond with her again and reassure her of my deep love. This has been so hard on her too. I tried to tell her that time didn't equal love, although it sure looks like that sometimes. I told her that it's not like there is one love pie, and the more Jake gets the less she gets - I said "You get your own pie, I love you totally and completely and wholly just for you, and Jake gets his own love pie too - his pieces don't make yours smaller." I hope she knows how deeply I miss her and how much I adore her.
Today I will be headed back north to switch with Keith. I've packed a little picnic for us to share together before he goes. I deeply miss him too. The psychic toll this takes on him is pretty extreme. I know that this too shall pass and we will all be together again soon. We should have a better estimate on recovery time this morning when they are able to see how Jake is progressing. They left a vent in (I call it his Purple Heart) - a little drain so that the fluids can get out and not create another abcess. Once that dries up and his bowel begins to do its job again the next hurdle will be the reintroduction of fluids and eventually solids. The ease with which his BSL have been maintained while on the IV drip has been a wonderful vacation from that stress. Real life will begin to kick in again and counting carbs, calculating insulin doses and maintaining his levels will soon be our responsibility again. I am not looking forward to that, especially if he is having any trouble keeping food down. Doing this transition in hospital instead of at home will be a good thing, not the easiest on the family, but important so that we know that his recovery is full.
Coolest connection in the middle of difficulty. I came home to see a prayer request from church that mentioned the hospital - one of my blogger friends from before moving out east - the Naked Pastor - David Hayward - (who lives in Rothesay) son, Jesse is also at SJRH and Keith was able to connect with them last night to give that mutual hospital support that only those going through similar circumstances seem to be able to understand. I look forward to connecting with he and Lisa (and Jesse) today. While you're praying for Jake, could you mention Jesse. He's a university student and is struggling with an undiagnosed illness and his appetite is non-existent and he's quite ill. Amazing family and a joy to be able to connect f2f since moving to NB.
Again, thank you all for praying and supporting us. We can tell. It's always the time when moving away from family that we feel it most deeply. Being surrounded by such an incredible amount of support and love makes all the difference. God bless you all!
They had a bed waiting for us in emerg and we spent the next 9 hours being poked, prodded and interviewed by a plethora of talented doctors and nurses. We had brought The Hobbit to read and we were quite content until about 7:00 p.m. - then we got a bit squirrley and really wanted the bed in paeds that they told us about around 5:00. Listening to the swirl of people and the sickness of those around us reminded us that things could be a lot worse.
Jacob's pain wasn't in the right spots and his tolerance was extraordinary. He is one brave, strong boy. Unfortunately this actually got in his way for a diagnosis. They decided to place him in PICU so that they could monitor his BSL as he was on dextrose and insulin drips and fine tuning that ratio wasn't easy. It gave me so much more peace to know that the nurse was immediately there to care for his every need as low BSL at staff change could have been very difficult for both Jake & I. So we kept following the story of the 14 on their search for treasure and watched a couple of movies. (Underdog gets a surprising thumbs up from me and Nim's Island - although I truly wanted to love this film was sappy and so disappointing). X-rays, ultrasounds and bloodwork broke up the monotony and other than Jake's unquenchable thirst we were able to make the most of our time together.
These times for Jake & I are sacred and although they are many times filled pain and fear I truly wouldn't trade them for the world. I only wish the Ali & Keith could share them with us.
The sleep I was able to get was deep and restful. I felt bouyed up by your prayers and rested in the knowledge that we were in the right place and the best of care. I am so grateful for socialized medicine. Not once in this whole time have we had to fear the cost of a test, the length of stay or the stress of an upcoming bill (and this one would be a whopper). It is a generous system and full of grace. Doctors are available and present and treated us like patients instead of paychecks. He has had over a dozen on his case and all are stellar in their care and keeping of our son.
When Jake's white blood cells started to show toxic granules the newest surgeon called in knew that it was time to schedule an appendectimy with deep assurance that if it wasn't his appendix that he had the skill and knowledge to find out what was causing the pain and fix it at the same time. Jacob now affectionately refers to his incision as his "scarth" - in honor of his surgeon Dr. Scarth :D (his anesteciologist was Dr. Nice!) .
I had assured Keith that it would be silly for him to drive up that night as it was going to be a late surgery (10:45 pm) and Jake would be out of it. I never even thought that I might need the support while he was in surgery. Sitting there alone was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. I have an amazing community who would have been there at the drop of the hat, but my only concern was Jake. I don't think I'll ever do that again. It was supposed to be a one hour surgery - so as it passed 12:01 I phoned Keith to wish him a Happy Valentines Day and told him how dumb I was to have put aside his offer to be at my side. I said he needed to talk to me until I saw someone (the whole surgery wing was EMPTY - echos - no foot steps, no other staff - just me. The kind nurse showed me where they kept the heated blankets - oh what a gift they were) because I could feel myself getting a bit frantic and panic was about to set in. I literally saw myself walking down to the surgery room just to peek in the window to assure myself he was still breathing. He was and it was only moments later that they wheeled him into recovery.
The surgeon said that the appendix was exactly where he was having his pain - below his belly button - and it was perforated and had abcessed and the infection was so vile it made a few of them wretch. He told me that as long as they can keep his sugars maintained and infection at bay he would be fine. If not he explained the full course of what horrible things could go wrong (that was the worst time to actually be alone...). Because he's T1 healing isn't always as normal as it is for others. So he's still on his Dextrose/Insulin drips, NO liquids and it could be up to three days.
My son told me yesterday that he was so thirsty that he would drink the toilet water. He begged for ice chips and I finally talked the surgeon into letting him have a very monitored amount. They explained that when the bowel is touched is shuts down. Nothing moves down - and everything is forced up. If he began vomiting life would not be much fun (and he told me there have been patients who actually did drink out of the toilet). He okay'd a few ice chips and Jacob literally cheered. Watching unmet thirst is excruciating. Even when you know it's for their own good.
We looked forward to seeing Dad & Ali and being together again. It was such incredible timing for Keith to be the one caring for Jake this past 24 hours. Dads are so very different than moms. They made a game out of the post-op exercises and he encouraged Jake to recovery that I would have coddled him through. The before bed phone call I had with them last night told me of incredible progress - new breathing exercises because he had blown past the original ones, he had been up, mobile, used the toilet, brushed his teeth and his hair, washed his face at the sink and progressed much farther than the PICU nurse had ever expected. What a relief. I was able to sink into my own bed knowing that I was going to wake up, drink my own coffee (Tim Hortons coffee is way over-rated... but still better than "hospital coffee", so I will try to refrain from complaining) and shower in my own bathroom and head to my church filled with loved ones and a community of deep caring. I was also going to get a chance to put some of this process down here. Not having the ability to type all of this out was bothersome to me. I am truly overwhelmed and blessed by the level of prayers, support and messages we have received. I only wish I had time to read and respond to each one today.
Alinea and I stopped at the grocery on the way home and purched everything we needed to make steak salads together and came home to cook and watch movies. Unfortunately mommie was WAY more tired than she knew and fell asleep at the end of the first. We decided to pass on the second and talked and cried together instead. It was so good to bond with her again and reassure her of my deep love. This has been so hard on her too. I tried to tell her that time didn't equal love, although it sure looks like that sometimes. I told her that it's not like there is one love pie, and the more Jake gets the less she gets - I said "You get your own pie, I love you totally and completely and wholly just for you, and Jake gets his own love pie too - his pieces don't make yours smaller." I hope she knows how deeply I miss her and how much I adore her.
Today I will be headed back north to switch with Keith. I've packed a little picnic for us to share together before he goes. I deeply miss him too. The psychic toll this takes on him is pretty extreme. I know that this too shall pass and we will all be together again soon. We should have a better estimate on recovery time this morning when they are able to see how Jake is progressing. They left a vent in (I call it his Purple Heart) - a little drain so that the fluids can get out and not create another abcess. Once that dries up and his bowel begins to do its job again the next hurdle will be the reintroduction of fluids and eventually solids. The ease with which his BSL have been maintained while on the IV drip has been a wonderful vacation from that stress. Real life will begin to kick in again and counting carbs, calculating insulin doses and maintaining his levels will soon be our responsibility again. I am not looking forward to that, especially if he is having any trouble keeping food down. Doing this transition in hospital instead of at home will be a good thing, not the easiest on the family, but important so that we know that his recovery is full.
Coolest connection in the middle of difficulty. I came home to see a prayer request from church that mentioned the hospital - one of my blogger friends from before moving out east - the Naked Pastor - David Hayward - (who lives in Rothesay) son, Jesse is also at SJRH and Keith was able to connect with them last night to give that mutual hospital support that only those going through similar circumstances seem to be able to understand. I look forward to connecting with he and Lisa (and Jesse) today. While you're praying for Jake, could you mention Jesse. He's a university student and is struggling with an undiagnosed illness and his appetite is non-existent and he's quite ill. Amazing family and a joy to be able to connect f2f since moving to NB.
Again, thank you all for praying and supporting us. We can tell. It's always the time when moving away from family that we feel it most deeply. Being surrounded by such an incredible amount of support and love makes all the difference. God bless you all!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Love, Dad
Parade Magazine has an open letter Barack Obama has written to his daughters - friend or foe - these are the kind of words a daughter would love to hear her father speak to her:
'What I Want for You — and Every Child in America'
'What I Want for You — and Every Child in America'
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
Epiphany
Today is the Feast of the Epiphany and also the third anniversary of our arrival in New Brunswick. A few months after our arrival we found out that the New Brunswick motto is "Spem Reduxit" - literally "Hope was restored" - it is so true to our story. Epiphany comes in so many ways.
May you find one today.
(I took this picture at St. Saviour's church in Bar Harbor, Maine - I don't know if it is one of the Tiffany stained glass or not, it is very beautiful though)
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Merry Christmas from the Turners!
MMMMMMM.... Can you smell that? Our home is full of fragrance and warmth. Today's menu included Maple Sausage and Cranberry Bread French Toast for brunch. And on the dinner menu this evening we are offering Prime Rib, Coconut Shrimp, Baked Potatoes, Roasted Cauliflower and Splenda Coconut Chess Pie.
Hope your day is merry, merry! Wish you were here!
Hope your day is merry, merry! Wish you were here!
Friday, December 05, 2008
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