Human Geography

Campbell has been working on an assignment for school this weekend and is supposed to hand it in tomorrow.  This assignment asks students to identify traditions and current cultural aspects of their family's and community's lifestyle.  At first I thought this was a rather lame topic for a seventeen year old to be working on.

As he was reading his work to me yesterday, I changed I my mind.  It was also interesting to hear Campbell's thoughts on his family and community - how his family was either fitting in to the current "expected" culture or how it was not.  One of the questions that caught me off guard was to describe a personal habit or custom that he follows that generally isn't popular culture.  Do you know what he wrote?  He wrote that he goes to church three times a week as his personal habit.

I know that a lot of teens don't go to church but I was surprised that he used that.  Maybe I was more surprised that he was telling people he goes to church three times a week.  I mean, if I was 17, would I say that was my personal habit?  I thought that maybe he would have used sports, like rugby or cross-country running, as his personal habit.  If you listen to the reports, a lot of teens don't do sports anymore, so sports wouldn't be a popular culture.  It's one thing to follow football or hockey stats but it's another thing to actually play the game.  He shared how he goes to explore his personal faith and his youth group activities.

The next part of the question was customs in the house that aren't popular culture.  Do you know what her wrote this time?  He wrote that his family eats together every night even if they have to adjust the time so they can be there together.  I take that for granted.  I asked him about it and he said most of his friends don't sit around a dining room table and talk as they eat.  They either eat at different times and make whatever there is to warm up in the fridge or their families sit around the tv as they eat.  I asked Campbell why he would choose that as a custom.  He said that he wants to continue that with his family when he's older, therefore, it's a custom that his family has passed down to him.

He went on to say how his siblings are important to each other.  Even when one brother lives in Moncton, that there isn't a day goes by when the other siblings comment on his brother, wife and their daughter.  They stay connected through Facebook, Twitter and skype.  Now, I look at that and think that that is pop culture.  But I guess that's what it is, but for Campbell, this is how he sees how his family can keep a custom alive.  He told me that even when Abby turned two this summer, we participated in the birthday party via skype.

He wrote about the traditions in his family like hotdogs on birthdays, parades on Thanksgiving, Santa Bag on Christmas Eve, singing to mom and dad Christmas morning to wake them up and board games together.  He wrote about how much he loved being part of a big family because he felt like he was important to all of his family and how each of the family members were so important to him.

It's interesting how much I learned about what's important to my youngest son by a Human Geography class.  I think he learned a lot about himself as well.  We all need to look at our life, our community and see what personal habits or customs we hold up as a priority.  Is it what really matters?  Is it what makes you a better person?  Is it what makes your family better?  Is it what makes your community better?  Tonight's a good night for pondering those thoughts, I'd say.

Caramel Apples

Caramel apples are something I enjoy at fairs and halloween.  I've made them for our youth group for as long as I've done youth ministry.  I used to make them each year for Campbell's hockey team too.  Every kid and youth liked getting one of these sticky staples.  This year, our youth group was meeting the Brantford youth group from the Church of the Nazarene at the Hanes Corn Maze in Dundas to conquer the 12 acres of 10 feet tall stalks.

When I tell someone I am going to do something, I try my utmost to do it and do it well.  So, when I told myself that I was going to make caramel apples for the two youth groups for last night, I wanted to keep my word.  I had mentioned to their youth leader that I was going to bring a treat for each of the youth, but she didn't know what it was.  I could have brought bags of chips and she'd have not known anything different.  But I knew.

I had a package of the cooked caramel covering but knew I'd need a couple more packages to do enough apples for both youth groups.  Stacey & I searched for the stuff you cooked on the stove with milk but I couldn't find any.  We ended up settling for this other stuff that you heated in the oven and just wrapped around an apple.  It was the same brand as the cooked stuff, just a different form so I figured it would be good.  When we were checking through the grocery store, the clerk looked at it and said how good caramel apples were.  Then she made a comment that kind of surprised me.  She said that using the wrap kind of caramel was "cheating"!  Hey lady, I couldn't find the cooked stuff and your store only carried the cheating kind.  She annoyed me.  So I took my cheater wraps home with my three bags of apples.  Did I mention that each package of the cheater wraps is $2.99 and only has five wraps in it?  Mhm... that's right.  Did I also mention that I needed at least 32 caramel apples for the two youth groups?  Well, I did.  Do the math... that's over $21 in just "cheater" caramel wraps.  The cooked stuff was easy 1/3 that price, but I had to keep my word. (To myself, that is.)

This statement proved to be false!

When I got home, Vince found one microwave one that someone had given us and I used it.  It was a chocolate caramel.  Easy-peasy.  Just microwave for two minutes and swirl the apple in it and set it on a greased piece of wax or parchment paper.  It made seven covered apples.  I read the directions on the "cheater" wraps - soften the wrap at 200 degrees and wrap.  The first five wraps went well - sort of.  The directions said to stretch the caramel over the apple.  I missed that part of the directions.  I just placed the wrap on the apple but it only covered half the apple!  I reread the instructions and saw my faux pas.  I did better on the next four apples.  And that's where it all went wrong.  There's a reason why they only package five wraps.  The sixth wrap was softened and peeled off the paper just fine but that's where the ease of making these "cheater" caramel wraps ended.  The caramel stuck to my fingers like it was crazy glue!  I ended up rolling the flat wrap into a ball and putting it back in the oven to reshape with my rolling pin.  And that's what I did for the next twenty six caramel apples.  Heat, peel, try to apply and roll back in a ball to reheat.  Repeat.

One mud puddle too many!

Two and a half hours later, the thirty two wraps were ready to serve!  We did the challenge in the maze with the Brantford youth.  However, there were a few minor mishaps.  Several of the youth slipped in the mud along the way as they raced to find the clues that were in the challenge map.  My group of youth seemed to find the part of the maze that went in circles.  Out of the seventeen clues, we only found nine.  At one point one girl from my group said, "We keep going in circles."  We acknowledged that problem as her sister piped up and said, "One bad circle and we're traumatized."  We just laughed and tried to find our way in the flashlight lit path.  After two hours or so, circling the twelve acre field, we headed back to the vans for the yummy treats.  Squeals of childhood excitement were heard as each youth filed past to pick up their caramel apple.  It was worth the struggle of the cheater wraps in the end, but next year, I'm going to look earlier for the cooked stuff!  Oh, wait!  I still need to make some for those six trick or treaters that might come to my door on Halloween!!!  :)  After all, I told myself I was going to do it.

T.G.I.F.

I co-ordinate a Breakfast Club for my school four days a week and I love it when my day off coincides with Fridays.  It's the one day I don't have to get up at 5:45 to get ready to prepare breakfast for the students at my school!  Don't get me wrong, I love Breakfast Club and all that it means to our students, staff and volunteers.  What a great way to start the day with kids and food and some of the most amazing volunteers on the planet.

However, today, is my day off and it's also Friday!  I don't have to get up at the required 5:45.  Instead I get to sleep in until 6:00ish.  :)  It's the working day of the week that I get to make breakfast for my kids.   I know deep down inside that they like it when I am there to make them breakfast... at least I hope they do ;)  Last night I told Stacey that I'd make cheese scones for part of our breakfast.  They're super good.

Although, do you ever wake up in the morning and things just seem to be weird?  Not that they go wrong, but not that they go as planned.  That's today.  I woke up, knocked my glasses on the floor and then spent about five minutes in the dark (because at 5:55 am there isn't any sunlight streaming through my windows) waving my hand across the floor trying to find my glasses.  So of course I know you are thinking, "Turn on the light, Marg."  Such an obvious statement.  I stood up to walk the three steps to the light switch only to stand on the arm of my glasses!  Yup... a little twist to the left arm, thank you very much.  With that, I headed out the door with my glasses sitting slightly askew on my face and stepped right on the jagged chewy bone thing we bought for Zaley.  Not wanting to yell, I just groaned and continued to the bathroom.

Still in the dark, I left the bathroom and headed toward the kitchen.  I've been awake now at least seven minutes.  You'd think my eyes would have seen a little light.  As I approached the kitchen I felt for the light switch on the wall.  Turned on the lights and it was like someone was doing laser surgery on my eyes!  Man was that light bright.  I didn't let that deter me though.  I squinted until my eyes adjusted and turned the oven on to preheat for the precious morning scones.  Measruing cups?  Check.  Bowl?  Check. Ingredients?  Double check.  As I grated the cheese, I was hoping that they'd taste as good as the last time.  I took the fork and mixed the floor and cheese and other ingredients together to form that slightly sticky ball.  I floured the counter and began to roll out the biscuit mix.  As I cut out the first biscuits I thought I should get a pot of coffee ready for Vince when he gets home from work.  I slid the biscuits onto the heated baking sheet, set the timer, and prepared to get the coffee started.

Filter?  Check.  Coffee?  Check.  Water?  ugh.... just as the timer went off on the oven the lid flipped down on the coffee pot and water sprayed all over the place.  Ok, cleaned that up.  Turned to the oven and went to take the scones out and one of them slid off the sheet and onto the element of the oven.  Ok, I'll take the others off the sheet onto the wire rack to cool and get that wayward scone after.  Those scones are combustible!  In seconds that scone was lighting up my oven in a blaze.  :(   6:20 am and not all is well in the Stahlbaum kitchen.  (No comments here for those that want to say something.)  I used my cat-like reflexes and stuck my hand in to retrieve the ball of fire only to realize that my skin burns too.  After several attempts using different utensils, I got it out.  Surprisingly, the smoke detector did not go off.

After all of that, I made some scrambled eggs for Kerby, Stacey & I and we enjoyed our scones.  I thought maybe I could have just cut off the parts of the burned scone in order not to waste it, but when I flipped it over, I realized it wasn't going to happen.  It's was landfill bound.  When my grandkids arrived for their regular Friday morning breakfast of pancakes, my Friday morning routine was complete.  Now, off to drop those grandkids off to school and see the Blue Day Kindergarten class.  They're celebrating Halloween today for that class.  I'm looking forward to seeing how many superman and princess impersonators are there today!  I love Fridays.  Thank you God for Fridays.

Fall is a time for reflection

I love the fall.  It always makes me reminisce.  I am not sure why, but I reflect on the past.  Not the past like last week or last month - not even last year.  I think about people from my past.  I wonder if it is because of the leaves.  They have that beautiful antique look with deep colours and that smell they have.  Maybe that's it!  Smell... haven't researchers shown some kind of link between our memory and smell?  I mean don't babies even know their mother because of smell?

I have favourite memories of the fall.  About five years ago, my friend had a dog that was so homely she was cute.  She brought her over to play with my dog Jasmine.  Jasmine was afraid of other dogs so when the dog, Penny, came over, Jasmine would run like the wind to get away.  As she ran around like a maniac, I was raking leaves.  We have a big yard so the pile of leaves could have easily filled an 8x8 room floor to ceiling.  As Jasmine was running she was getting tired but Penny kept chasing.  Jasmine finally flopped into the leaves.  Oddly enough, Penny stopped running and just stood there looking at Jasmine.  Jasmine soon figured it out that if she was in the pile of leaves, Penny wouldn't chase her.  When Penny turned to go do something else, Jasmine would gingerly walk out of the leaves so Penny wouldn't notice her.  But to not avail.  Penny was eagle-eyed and she saw Jasmine.  Jasmine would run like crazy and then the thought must have occurred to her that the leaves were her sanctuary.  There she stood for the remainder of the afternoon while Penny visited.  When she finally came in the house, she had that "leafy" smell.  :)  That was a great memory of my dog.

Another memory that I repeat year after year was my mom's birthday when she turned 75.  My mom often talked about the "olden days".  How special they were; how simple they were - and she remembered the clip clop of horses hooves.  Mom's birthday was in October so I thought I'd surprise her with a horse and buggy ride.  I had arranged for her sister from Sarnia to travel down to surprise her for her birthday too.  My Aunt Olive was fun.  She had such an infectious laugh.  I popped over to mom's and she was sharing what a surprise it was for Olive to be there and what a special day it was for her.  I nodded.  After a good cup of tea and some maple cream filled cookies, I suggested that we go for a drive to see the fall leaves.  My mom loved that.  I told her that would be my gift to her.  She readily agreed as she hurried to grab her coat.  I had put some blankets, hats, mitts and scarves in the trunk of my car because I knew what was in store.  My aunt looked a little suspicious as she was layering up to get into the car for the "drive" but my mom didn't even seem to notice.  As we drove down Fountain Street toward Blair, the smell and leaves were beautiful.  Very regal indeed.  We turned onto Highway #7, and then I turned left as per the directions I had been told.  We were about 45 minutes early for our booked ride so I drove around the countryside.

My mom was saying how much she missed the old days and the horse-drawn rides into town.  As I looked into the rear view mirror, my Aunt's eyes were just sparkling with anticipation.  She was smiling from eye to eye.  My mom must have thought her story was really good because she didn't seem to notice that nobody else was talking.  It was then that I pointed out a beautiful white carriage hooked up to a team of horses on the top of a hill.  My mom was almost beside her self as I made my way up the hill to take a closer look.  As I got to the driveway, I said, "Hey mom, let's see if he'll take us for a ride." and I turned the car into the driveway.  My mom was mortified.  A total stranger - and she wasn't dressed up - she begged me to back out of the driveway.  As I pulled up my mom looked like she was trying to shrink to the size of a pea in the backseat.  The carriage driver came over and opened the car door and said, "Which one of you ladies is Audrey?"  My poor mom... she couldn't even say anything.  He helped my aunt and my mom into the carriage, tucked them up with beautiful blankets and the black Belgian horses were decorated with beautiful white bows in their manes and the bridle and reigns were glistening silver and black.  Soon, all you could here was my mom repeating stories of her childhood as the horses clipped clopped down the road.  Both mom and my aunt were transported to seventy years prior at that moment in that carriage.

It's good to reflect.  It's good to have cherished memories.  It's good that fall brings those special memories.

Toss up between Grrrrreat and just Grrrrrrr

Do you ever have one of those days where life is going along and you seem to be enjoying the ride and then something flips out of nowhere and hits you in the face?  Sort of like a rake that's been laying in the leaves and you don't see it.  You're just admiring the beautiful fall colours until you step on the tines of the rake and the handle comes up out of that beautiful pile of leaves and hits you right square in the face?  Ya?  Well, that's the sort of day I've had.

I woke up this morning, made yummy pancakes and prepared to go to the Swaziland warehouse as planned with Stacey.  Drove over there and Stacey and I decided to work on separate projects hoping to get things done a bit faster.  My job was to do a window display with some decorative shelving and put up the sign in the window as an indicator for those looking for us.  The sign always seemed so big before.  It is pretty small in the window, but nevertheless, it's up!  The shelving... well... the shelving...

You know it's harder to put something together that you haven't seen before.  Who am I kidding?  I wouldn't have remembered really what it was like before anyway!  Instructions wouldn't have helped since that isn't something I usually do either.  They never seem to make sense to me.  I noticed that some of the shelves had these little holes in the back of them, so I went looking for small metal rods in the back room where it was stored.  Nothing.  No rods.  Ugh.  I thought, well, it's only decorative and I'm only putting a dozen books on or so, so I thought that would be ok.  I couldn't put the third shelf in because it just wouldn't snap in.  I called Stacey for help.  She said I'd need to put the back part of the shelf in.  What was she talking about?  She pointed out those little holes that I thought a rod went into were meant for the back support. Oooooh!  I get it now.  I thought those extra pieces of wood were the leaves for a table to extend it longer.  I should have realized that they weren't for that since we didn't have a dining table there.  Lesson learned.  Don't assume things.  In the end, the shelf looked pretty good.

Stacey worked like a beaver getting the shelving up.  We took out about twenty feet of shelving floor to ceiling from a school that was being renovated.  When Vince & Campbell were disassembling it, they had the foresight to label the sections so we'd know how to put them together.  Stacey did a great job of getting the first large piece of shelving up by herself.  Andrew did come in for the last fifteen minutes to help her slide on the wooden shelves.

Pattern available!

During the morning a parent and daughter from my school dropped in with some books.  This is the same person who made the bags I blogged about in the Swaziland section.  This time she brought in some pillowcase dresses she made!  Her daughter modeled one for us!  They were great!  She picked up a couple of the pillowcases at the  Dollar Store too.  She is a very talented lady.  Debbie made these little decorative covers for those individual kleenex packages.  What a cool idea!  She thought we could use them as a fundraiser, so we will!  She had some really good ideas and is willing to help with this part of the project too.  That's what it's all about.  If people did things that they were gifted in and excited about doing it, then each of the jobs would be done with just plain old joy!
As Debbie and her daughter left, Stacey & I finished up and we felt like we accomplished what we set out for the day.  I had to step out for about fifteen minutes to drive Campbell to work.  He said that Vince had gotten home from his appointment.  I looked forward to spending some time with Vince when I got home.  He has had a lot of meetings the past two days, and it would be nice to just to chat.  When I got home, Vince was in our bedroom with the vacuum cleaner and some screwdrivers.  And his face wasn't happy.  That's when the day turned from Grrrrrreat to just plain Grrrrrrrr.

Last night, when my son-in-love, Ron, was over visiting with Vince, they heard the sound of smashing glass.  They even thought it was one of our windows on the pool side of the house.  They came through the house running but the sliding glass doors were fine.  Even though it was dark, they stepped out the back door and looked around.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  They inspected the other windows on the other walls of the house, and everything seemed fine.  But, today, Vince noticed that our bedroom was exceptionally cool.  Then he noticed the shards of glass along the wall where the window was.  He opened the curtain and thankfully the blinds had held most of the glass pieces left behind caused by the empty bottle of rye that had been recklessly been thrown through the window.  Vince vacuumed up the glass and boarded up the window until we can get it repaired and called the police to report the damage.

Honestly.... why do people do such mindless acts of vandalism?  Since the news has been in the newspaper about our house possibly being torn down for a drugstore, many neighbourhood people have expressed how sad they are that we are losing our home.  Really?  We lost our home about 7 years ago when the people that bought the motel next door don't care about the clientele they rent to.  We haven't been able to use our backyard during the day because of people rolling joints, alcohol abuse and vulgar language whenever I want to be outside with my grandkids.  At night, we have to shut the windows because of the language and antics that happen until the wee hours of the morning.   Honestly, this isn't home right now, it's just where we live.

Home for us is wherever we go.  Home is where we are.  Maybe tonight we'll be at home at Swiss Chalet for supper!  :)  Hopefully, one day, we'll have another house that will become our home.

Domain or no domain... that's the question

Over the last year, since we've started this project, several people have asked me if we have a website for the Swaziland Library Project.  "Uh... nope"... is the answer.  For two reasons 1.  I'm no technical wizard and 2. Why would you need one for a short term project?

What defines a "short term project" anyhow?  This library project has sort of taken a life of its own.  Over these last eighteen months of collecting, sorting, cataloguing, labeling, shelving and packing I was discouraged a gazillion times over.  I could never figure out why the "church", the larger body of Christ, not just my own local church, wasn't running with this ball.  Why was it that it seemed like so many people outside of the church thought it was a good idea but the church hung back and watched.  They encouraged from time to time, but why didn't they jump in?  Why was it that these outside people were running with the ball?  And why were they asking me for a website?

All I ever wanted to do was to help a vision Campbell had from a mission trip to Swaziland become a reality. Pack a few hundred books in a few boxes and call it a day.  Well the story wasn't mine to create.  I believe that Campbell was being directed by a force much stronger than his mother.  He was being directed by his Father.  Several times I wondered what the heck are we doing?  This doesn't even make sense!  Why us?  Does He really know what He's asking us to do?  Are we really doing what He wants us to do?   In writing this blog, I've had a revelation.  Almost two years later.  It isn't about them.  It's about me.  Who was I going to be?  Was I going to be like Noah or like the members of his community?  Was I going to listen to what Campbell was saying and get "building" or was I just going to watch?

This past summer at the Riverview Family Camp, Jim Chapman of Big Chap Ministries was our evangelist.  He said to do whatever God is asking you to do.  Do what you know He is asking you to do.  He said, "Look at Noah!  He was building a boat.  He was building a big boat while others stood around and laughed and watched this seemingly foolish man build something out of wood.  Noah and his neighbours hadn't even seen rain before.  Big Chap asked, "How many of those people were laughing when they were doing the back float during the flood?"  Noah had no idea why he was doing what he did, he just did it because he was asked to do it by his Father.  Noah encouraged others to join him earlier, but they didn't.   Noah completed a job that saved humanity and gave us a second chance.

These libraries were completed by people who followed a young boy's vision.  These libraries have the potential to save the children of Swaziland and give them a second chance.  So what does this all have to do with a website domain or no domain?  I'm not really too sure.  LOL!  I know that I have a free website up and running (well, there are a few glitches because, remember, I'm no technical wizard).  http://www.wix.com/stakra/libraryproject   But a name is important.  If I was going to buy a domain for this library project, it has to be a name that reflects what it is and what it is meant to do.  If you are reading this and are inspired with a domain name, please leave a comment.  Like what about www.rainingbooks.com?  What about www.arklibrary.com?

There's something about a name....  there's something about That name.

In the mail the other day...

Bills and flyers are pretty much the only thing we get in our mailbox.  We don't even get the free local paper.  It seems like they can't get a carrier in this area to deliver.  However, on Tuesday, I take in the mail to find a white envelope addressed "To Whom it May Concern".  

At first I thought it was one of those "Singles in your area" advertisements!  hahahaaa!  I really wasn't even gonig to open it.  When I was flicking through all of the other flyers that came in the mail, the back of the envelope flopped open.  It hadn't been sealed.

I opened it up to find a hand written note on a small piece of yellow paper.  This is what I read, "Hi:  My name is Merle O******** and I was brought up in this house.  Would love to go through it again.  When I was 6, I lost my baby ring in the basement.  I know exactly where it is, just that it could not be retrieved as you would have to demolish things around it.  My phone number is *** *** ****"  And an arrow to indicate to flip the yellow piece of paper.  It continued, "Excuse writing:  and it would make a gread story, it's been 58 years since I lost it!  I'm from Waterloo.  I would love for you to call me, as I have heard that the place maight be torn down.  My twin siser & I had identical rings, since she has passed away, I would love to get mine back.  B"

58 years later?  We've lived here for 16 years.  We've heard a little about the family that built it.  I wasn't sure I even wanted to call the person back.  I told Vince that I'd like to wait a couple of days before I called - if I called.  

That night at supper the phone rang.  Yup... it was her!  She got my phone number from my neighbour.  She knew all about the strange things that we found on the floor when we lifted the carpets and tiles.  She knew about the fountain in the floor.  She told us things that we already knew about the man that built our house.  She also gave details about her family that we had heard from neighbours that knew of the family.  So, I guess she was legitimate.  :)  She proceeded to tell us that she is a snow bird and was leaving for Florida but would be back.  Would it be all right if she stopped in to see our place - her place - and bring her granddaughter as well.  Of course, it would be all right.  

There's something really special about going back to your home that you grew up in, isn't there?  I know that when the house that I grew up in on Hamilton Street was up for sale a few years ago, I just had to go.  I wanted to see my bedroom.  Things seemed so much bigger then as I walked up the staircase.  I always thought our top landing could have been big enough to land a small aircraft.  Apparently, though, it isn't!  I hope she isn't disappointed when she comes through.

It would make a great story, eh?  58 years later, finding a lost ring in a wall?