i knew i wanted to be a writer when...

Where to start? Probably with me being scared...yes, that was a good place.

i was scared.  i remember the fear clearly as if it had it's own smell, it's own taste stinging the back of my throat. i looked around trying not to let on how desperate i was. the tin can that was supposed to be an airplane was rattling and lurching with turbulence making my stomach feel queasy.

tears slipped silently down my face. i longed for my mothers soothing touch to comfort me. i ached for my dad to reassure me that i would be OK. i missed my brother's mischievous laugh to distract me from feeling so horribly alone.

our family had arrived in East Africa only a year before, ready to begin church planting and outreach. back in Canada mini skirts and big hair were all the rage for women...not appreciated in Tanzania where it was law that women could not bare their legs in public. our very first day in Tanzania my mom's attire caught the attention of the locals who formed an angry crowd around her and demanded that she be arrested on the spot. thankfully she was saved by some quick thinking friends who whisked her away before anyone could organize an arrest. i was terrified and thrilled all at the same time...a headline played through my mind~ my mom was arrested for wearing a short dress. i was 5, it was not a well crafted headline.

i spent most of that year running around barefoot. we were living in what was called "the little house" with another family in the "big house" across the other side of the yard. we only spoke about the big house in whispers and were not allowed to go over there for reasons that were shrouded in mystery but my brother and i barely had time to care with all of the turtles, snakes, iguana's and scorpions to keep us busy. we scaled coconut trees and chewed on sweet grass, picked up Swahili from the neighbor kids and learned how to cut grass with a panga.

we rode on our 2-wheeler bikes from Canada and fell constantly into the thorn bushes that served as decorative accents to the drab, dirt yard. we spent many hours across mom's lap as she pulled out thorns from our backsides. the time went by in a blur of new smells and exciting experiences.

after that first year at home it was time for me to go away to boarding school. i was heart sick over leaving my family but my current dilemma was what had me crying. i craned my neck this way and that to get a better look at the other passengers in the 8-seater plane, maybe someone would be able to help me. the large man in the aisle seat beside me was snoring loudly and the people across from us had their barf bags in-hand, not a good sign. there was a lady with a baby sitting right at the back but baby was fussy and she was busy trying to soothe it. so i sat as quietly as i could and tried to think...

time, to someone who is 6, means very little. i didn't know how long we had been flying. i didn't know when we would be in Nairobi, i certainly didn't know if we would be stopping before we got to Nairobi for any reason.

a few moments later i realized I had the answer! it was so simple, why had i been worried? it would be perfect and no one would ever know, i wouldn't even have to get out of my seat! i giggled softly as i congratulated myself on being so clever.

suddenly i felt the plane begin its decent...could it be that we were already in Nairobi? there didn't seem to be a city below I remember thinking, but i wasn't concerned. carefully i smoothed my pretty white dress with pink roses over my knees just like my mother had taught me to, I didn't want any wrinkles.

the pilot's voice sounded...ladies and gentleman, i apologize for the turbulence back there, it looks like we're going to touch down for a few minutes to re-fuel and give everyone a chance to use the restroom. please be ready to re-board the aircraft in 30 minutes.

i don't remember anything about our lay-over, all i know is that i was the first one in line to get back on the airplane. i went straight to the back and quickly settled myself in, trying not to look anyone in eye as they filed back on and returned to their own seats. except the lady with the baby, she had been last. her eyes scanned the back of the plane for her seat but when she saw me sitting in it she gave a small shrug and carefully made her way past the large man in the aisle seat and sank down onto my seat.

i couldn't bear to look away, my eyes felt stuck like someone had crazy glued them to the back of her head. ever so slowly she turned around and when her eyes locked onto mine i was struck by how beautiful she was, her eyes liquid black...and...angry. she knew my secret, she would be sitting in a wet seat all the way to Nairobi.

There...with a flourish I finished off the story, ready to send it in to the Children's Institute of Literature. I had seen an ad in the local newspaper and for fun thought I would submit a story from my childhood that I had not told anyone before.

It took me days to finish, polishing it up and editing, trying to find just the right words to accurately describe the events and feelings surrounding that crazy day so long ago.

I became aware as I sent it off in the mail, that the desire to write had always been with me. I wanted to create something beautiful, haunting and tangible with words.
For a living.
For ever.
For me.
For you.

Capsuled Moment

My stomach was full and we were laughing. How on earth had we let ourselves do this, we wondered aloud? Dirty from head to toe we made a spontaneous decision to go out to eat rather than waste precious time cooking at home, and drove to the nearest spot we could find...Kung Pow Chow.

You know the look~ by some unspoken measuring stick we had fallen short of, we were on the receiving end of arched eyebrows and quiet clucking. It had not stopped us from being seated although we noticed that our presence was a source of consternation for the poor waitress who was chosen to wait on us. If she was offended by our dirt (which washes off) then I figured I was okay to be put-off with the pointy things sticking out of her eyebrows and lips which wiggled when she spoke.

Outside on the front step afterwards we relished in the fact that at our age this is what living dangerously had become and held hands, laughing like carefree teenagers.

The noise entered my consciousness without being fully aware that it was there. It crept over me like a slow evaporation of a deep fog that you drive through...one moment unable to see and the next moment shapes becoming clearer and clearer until suddenly everything is visible.

Screaming and crying filled my ears, filled more than my ears...filled my heart with the foreboding of the unloved and abused. A little boy, being dragged along the sidewalk by his mother was pleading for mercy, was crying for help and sobbing like his very heart was being trodden over by her dull, heavy footsteps.

She let go of his twisted arm as we turned and stared but her screaming became louder in an effort to prove her right as his mother to treat him in that manner. We watched them in muted silence, unable and unwilling to turn away as the tirade against this little's one's soul continued and they passed us by.  His terror and fear palpable in the dappled evening shadows made me wonder...what happens when the sun goes down? A tear slipped down my cheek, glittering in the final rays of light.












 

Welcome to Schmidt Street

I have been on a bit of a self-imposed hiatus for 2 months....no words of wisdom, no funny stories, no peeps into my private life allowed. The reason? Well, I have tried very hard to have you all believe that I am a normal person going about my normal life and the reality is that my world has been rocked in the last 2 months and only now have I recovered sufficiently to get back on-line.

Well, where do I begin? How about at the beginning...



 

This was the sum of our last 23 years together...packed into boxes, labelled and loaded. My lifetime of memories had been compacted into a moving truck and I was overcome with a choking realization that things would never be the same.

 

There is something sad about an empty house. No voices ringing out with happy chatter, no fluttering shears on the windows whispering of life~ of love. No kitchen sounds of meals to nourish body and soul and with it the communion of family and friends. I was eager to re-establish my comforts.

 

I know this all sounds horribly depressing...and the truth is, I guess, that's what I was feeling right at that moment. As we drove into Edmonton to stay the night with our daughter and son-in-law, the weight of what had been put into motion filled our hearts with both sorrow and hope. Our kids knew we would need an extra dose of encouragement and upon arrival at their home, presented us with a housewarming gift...a child's DVD and a coloring book.

 

 

WE ARE GOING TO BE GRANDPARENTS!

 

 

The candles burning on our pity-party cake seemed to mock this news and so we snuffed them out and rejoiced in the impending arrival of our very own little grand-tot.

To say things have been easy since that time would be lying. We arrived on our new street unsure of what to expect. We are country folk who stepped into the weird and wild world of townies~ that became clear pretty quickly....

No, you cannot walk around your house in various stages of undress with the curtains open.
No, you cannot flatulate as you bend over to pull weeds in the back yard
No, you cannot put the green bin out on black bin day and vise-versa
No, you cannot drive your quad on the walking trail
No, you cannot park your vehicle along the curb for very long, it has to be on your driveway
No, there is not someone coming to visit every time you hear a vehicle door slamming down the street
No, your new appliances most definitely will not work as the old ones did
No, you are not a visitor...this is your new house

I think we got tired of all the "no's" and decided to try something with a "yes"~

Yes, you can make a difference wherever you are
Yes, you can get to know your neighbors
Yes, you can drive 4 minutes to work
Yes, you can run and pick something up from the store at 10pm
Yes, you can enjoy seeing your yard take shape
Yes, you can learn many, many new things in a short period of time
Yes, you can maintain important friendships through the process of change
Yes, you can open up your world to meeting new people and enrich your life through it
Yes, you can find a new place to worship that will be welcoming and warm
AND...yes, your house will become a HOME as you make new memories.

We thank all of you who have visited. Your presence has transitioned us into this new reality. To those of you who have not come over yet...please stop by, we look forward to connecting with you and sharing our home with you.

We testify to the truth that change will not kill you but being stagnant just might.

Peace~