tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67653966005331160842024-03-24T08:45:36.988-04:00My Daily Slog BlogThe Simple Life, Back to Basics, Urban Homesteading, Gardening, Dogs, and other Random Musings when I really should be doing something else...Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.comBlogger1039125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-47579251781817291372024-03-24T08:44:00.002-04:002024-03-24T08:44:47.490-04:00Only Death Gives Back<p>I was recently listening to a talk my biologist sister gave on environmental stewardship and how to overcome communication barriers around climate change. One thing she said really jumped out at me. She was speaking about how we can't live on earth without doing some damage. We can try to mitigate or lessen it, but we can't avoid it completely. Whether we choose to use cloth or disposable diapers, for example, both do different kinds of harm. The plants and animals on our plates were sacrificed so we could live. It's a painful reality. </p><p>It got me to thinking, and it's true -- life requires taking other life. It's only death that gives back.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-31299774867007977462024-03-23T07:45:00.002-04:002024-03-23T07:45:23.172-04:00Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern are alive and well in Toronto!<p>Last night I had the amazing opportunity to see Tom Stoppard's play at the CAA Theatre with my husband and Son #3. Of course after a mild winter with no snow, nature decided to pummel us with everything she had last night, and I was praying we could get there at all, but my husband managed to fight our way to the subway, and it was smooth from there (the subway truly is the only way to travel in bad weather).</p><p>I love the magic feeling of waiting for a play to begin. I've done a tiny bit of community theatre, and that smell of --what is it? Chalk dust? Old fabric? Electricity? -- draws me in every time. The stars of the show, Billy Boyd and Dominic Monaghan, captured us instantly, from the first line, and the tangible rapport between them made the rapid-fire dialogue spark. Imagine memorizing three hours of dialogue! (The show doesn't feel that long. I could have kept going.) But I was impressed with the rest of the cast, too, especially Michael Blake in the role of the Player. Walter Borden (Polonius) had a resonant voice like James Earl Jones that filled the theatre. Imagine being on stage with Boyd and Monaghan! Wouldn't that be such a thrill? The set was simple and spare and completely sufficient, constantly in motion, supporting but not detracting from the action.</p><p>At one point the Player says "I have lines to learn." And Monaghan broke off-script, looked at Boyd, and murmured, "So does he." The actors froze for a second, you could see Boyd struggling not to laugh, and Monaghan looked at the audience and grinned, bringing us in on the joke. Then the action resumed, but as the characters moved up stage, I saw Monaghan pat Boyd fondly on the back. You could tell they were just having the greatest fun up there together. And now I want to dig out my copy of the play to see if Boyd had flubbed a line, to prompt Monaghan to make the comment. </p><p>The whole evening was a delight, and it was fun to revisit a favourite play. Such profound observations on life and death, but so funny too. Now and then I'd glance at my son and find him dissolved in laughter. All the way home, we tossed bits of the dialogue at each other, and we've agreed our headstones should include the inscription: "Heads."</p><p>I saw an interview with the principal actors on Youtube the other day, and the interviewer asked them what it felt like to play characters who knew they were going to die. Boyd got a funny look on his face and said, "But we all know we're going to die." And we are. In the meantime, we get to laugh and learn. I'm grateful to these men for sharing their talents and bringing me that opportunity last night. </p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-44874439911877343672024-03-14T07:35:00.001-04:002024-03-14T07:35:31.289-04:00The Odyssey - or - How I Spent My Vacation<p>I apologize, this is going to be a long post. I just returned from two weeks in Hawaii with my husband. The place itself is beautiful -- whales and dolphins visible from our balcony, giant sea turtles surfing the shore, mist-covered mountains and rainbows, sunshine, and one fun night watching sheet lightening over the dark sea. The boom and hiss and foam of the waves on the sand. Azaleas the size of trees in lipstick colours. Papaya, bananas, and mangoes growing everywhere. Pretty spectacular. I met some interesting people, including a couple who were refugees from Russia back in 1987. The local pipe major and her husband had us over for a wonderful lunch at their gorgeously-restored 100-year-old home. I read ten books in two weeks. In short, a wonderful break.</p><p>I have to say, though, that it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Humans have besmirched the stunning landscape. The area of Oahu where we stay is pretty third-world, with a really visible dichotomy between the rich and the poor. There was a homeless encampment at one end of the beach, there was the constant sound of sirens, and one poor fellow with insomnia spent every night zooming up and down on his motorbike, thus ensuring the rest of us had insomnia too. No one seems to be aware of their neighbour or worry about annoying them. They let their dogs bark incessantly, even at night, which surely must keep them awake too, but there's no attempt to hush them. There are roosters kept in little cages everywhere you look, and they don't confine their screeching to dawn like in the cartoons. Trash is piled everywhere, sometimes on fire, and no one seems to care. And one day a hiker fell from the next-door cliff and had to be airlifted out on a stretcher by a helicopter. I learned later that one person was charged $81,000 for such a rescue, driving home to me how grateful I am to live where I do.</p><p>I gained a little insight into myself while I was there, too. One day the police cleared out the homeless encampment, and I found myself siding with the displaced people. They'd found a pretty spot where they could be sheltered from the weather by the surrounding cliffs and could fish for their breakfast. It was government-owned land, but still, no one else was using it. The police pulled down their tents and tarps and left them with nothing. Not an hour later, though, the people were back, emerging from the woods, bringing suitcases and more tents, and setting the camp back up. And suddenly I found myself irritated that they were back to sleeping on <i>our</i> beach, leaving behind towels and dirty clothes on <i>our</i> sand, when I'd spent so much money to get here and... How quickly we slip into our roles and mindsets without even realizing it! I immediately felt acutely aware of my privilege, and I was ashamed of myself. I went for a walk through town, admiring the architecture, and asked myself what style the houses were...and then answered my own question. Colonial. If the homeowner isn't a native to Hawaii, the style is Colonial. There's no getting around it.</p><p>Anyway, I wouldn't call it the usual carefree sort of vacation, but it was still a nice break. And I feel I learned something about myself, which is always a good outcome of travel to foreign places.</p><p>The journey home was an adventure in itself. The flight to Calgary was fine, we had a two-hour layover, but then just as we were about to board the flight to Toronto, it was cancelled. We were bumped to a flight nine hours later...to Edmonton. (I now see the usefulness of cell phones. My husband had one, and we were able to keep in the loop about what was going on and what flight we were being put on. They also emailed us food vouchers to tide us over, which was handy.) So we waited all day, eating turkey wraps from Jugo Juice and trying to focus exhausted eyes on Sudoku... At one point, we were chatting with a friendly lady beside us, and there was a large family nearby. They were Ukrainian, three generations of them, all headed to Saskatoon. They looked like a lovely, close-knit family. But the lady we were talking with noticed them and suddenly turned nasty, spewing vitriol about refugees and how they were coming to take over our homes, and why should they get houses when we can't even afford them ourselves? Why did they get preferential treatment? My husband firmly reminded her that no one was bombing <i>her</i> home, and the refugees were being <i>housed</i>, not given houses. A big difference. I was proud of him. Surely in a land the size of Canada, we can share. </p><p>That evening we finally got on the flight to Edmonton, only to sit on the tarmac for a further 40 minutes while a repairman in an orange vest knelt on the cockpit floor, trying to fix a communication signal light. I kid you not, it looked to me like he was just turning the computer on and off, the way the IT Department always tells you to just reboot when something goes haywire. I half expected him to just slap its side. Anyway, it finally worked and we were on our way. All of this for...get this...a <i>33-minute</i> flight to Edmonton. Where we had another 4-hour layover, where I found a sagging couch probably full of ten sorts of diseases and tried to doze, without success, due to constant intercom announcements. It was a nice airport, though, I have to say, with interesting Metis displays, comfortable furniture, and a green wall. We finally caught the midnight flight to Toronto. We were supposed to have arrived home Saturday afternoon. Instead we got home at 8:00 Sunday morning, having gone without sleep for over 50 hours.</p><p>Luckily, through all of this nightmare, we hadn't checked our luggage, so we had access to everything we needed, from toothpaste to clean socks. We didn't have any small children or caged dogs with us, like some of the other weary passengers. All in all, it was manageable. There are headlines online about how to recover from losing the hour of sleep due to the changing of the clocks, and I just laugh.</p><p>Now I have the grandkids for March Break week, and they have raging colds. So much for wearing an N95 mask for two days straight on the plane...Ah well! I'm home, I'm reunited with Brio, and all is well.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-64157793199492242632024-02-22T12:17:00.001-05:002024-02-22T12:17:47.471-05:00A poem for the day<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">I have been reading a lot of Leslie Norris poetry lately, and it put me in the mood to try some myself. My humble offering for your reading pleasure:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Brio<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I tap at my keyboard, notebook and
mug at hand.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The dog drapes himself over my feet
under the table,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">deep in boneless sleep until I
shift, or sniff, or click the laptop off.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Instantly, he’s on his feet, alert, attentive,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">ready as any sheep dog responding to
a whistle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You understand sleep was a ruse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His work is self-defined, an
unbroken vigilance,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">a militant agreement I don’t recall
making.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He is dedicated to his job as much
as I.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When I say he needn’t rise, he rolls
his eyes, ignores me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Of course I’m coming with you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His work is to disdain coat or boots
and accompany me <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">to the mailbox in the cold, to the
park <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">to corral the ball I repeatedly let
escape,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">to the kitchen to clean up the food
scraps I drop.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Careless woman! Without me, you’d
lose everything.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Ferocious defender against buzzing
flies, doorbells, mail carriers, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">distant sirens, squirrels passing
the window.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He presses between me and the threatening
hickory nuts <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m obviously holding at bay with a
hammer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I won’t let them get you.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When he senses I’m lonely, it’s his
job to bring a toy,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">put his warm, comforting head on my
knee.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Once when I lay coughing on the
couch,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">he crawled onto my chest, staring
intently into my eyes, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">willing me to stillness.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His job also to chaperone me in the bathroom,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">lying outside the shower with
worried eyes,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">in case danger lurks, ready to
spring.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Why would you pull a curtain between
us?<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Don’t you know I must keep my eyes
on you at all times?<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">At night he sleeps curled against
the back of my knees, <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">fending off evil dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraph" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">-<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Kristen
McKendry<o:p></o:p></span></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-39726068688733080792024-02-06T05:09:00.000-05:002024-02-06T05:09:05.561-05:00Thoughts of spring and garden staples<p>I was out raking (in a sweatshirt, no less) and found a yellow dandelion in my backyard this week. The leaves are definitely coming out on the maple trees. This is freaky. Meanwhile, the Maritimes are getting over a metre of snow in one fell swoop.</p><p>I'm determined to stick to the plan and assume winter is yet to come and refrain from starting my seedlings indoors. There is a temptation to hope for a really long growing season this year, but I don't trust it. Though it <i>is</i> a good time to inventory my seeds and make a plan. I need lots of room for seedlings this year, because I'm going to start the sorghum indoors to try to give it a head start, since last year it barely ripened before frost. So I'll need about 100 tiny pots for that under the grow lights, not leaving much room for tomatoes, etc. I want to turn my entire dining room into a growing area...but that won't jive with, you know, <i>dining</i>, so I'll have to get creative.</p><p>I'm focusing on garden basics this year, feeding the soil, trying not to disturb the worms. I'm omitting the frippery such as mache and perpetual spinach and focusing on the bulky survival staples -- cabbage, sorghum, beans, onions, kale, tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, butternut squash, carrots, and sweet potatoes. I love rapini but it does better indoors, so that will go under the lights again once the seedlings go out. I'm also going to try a suggestion I saw on Youtube and plant late summer/early fall broccoli instead of spring, so that it comes to maturity when the weather is cooler. Maybe that will help it not to bolt. The trick these days is to figure out when first-frost and last-frost dates are...</p><p>I try a new thing each year, and this year it is Champagne Bubble cherry tomatoes, which are sweet and not acidic at all -- perfect for snacking.</p><p>If you're gardening this summer (and you absolutely should!), leave a comment about what you'll be planting!</p><p><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-40064449153921309722024-01-28T18:14:00.003-05:002024-01-28T18:14:46.970-05:00Cardinals, Geese, and a Too-Early Spring<p>The maple trees are budding already. The hyacinths are starting to come up. Apparently they have seen goslings at Lake Ontario already, and lately I've been hearing cardinals whooping their mating calls. They're all about two months early, but it has been positively warm the last few days. In fact, other than a few days at -25, it's been unseasonably warm all winter so far. The plants and birds think spring has come. I'm worried that a real cold snap will come in February and kill the young, and it's heartbreaking knowing I can't tell them all, "Hold off! Wait! Winter is coming! It isn't over!" </p><p>Or maybe it <i>is</i> over, in which case we got hardly any snow at all and farmers will be in some trouble this summer. I haven't taken my winter coat out of the closet yet, and I've only shoveled snow <i>one day</i>. Too weird. A bit frightening. Surely cold and snow will come eventually!</p><p><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-71621918320822651832024-01-18T21:06:00.004-05:002024-01-18T21:06:55.984-05:00Deliverance<p>It's the 18th of January, and if you've seen the movie Deliverance, you'll know why I feel like playing my banjo today...</p><p>I started playing banjo when I was about thirteen, and in fact my first real job was as a banjo teacher at a music store when I was fifteen. I played in the Earl Scruggs style, five-string. I had one student who was so young, he couldn't reach the strings on his instrument. We had to tape a matchbox to the banjo to elevate his hand into position. It was a great job while it lasted, until the shop burned down one night, and they decided not to rebuild. Years later, I developed a Teach Yourself Banjo course so people could learn remotely at their own pace. Not that many people took advantage of it, but it was still a fun venture.</p><p>Banjo has cropped up often throughout my life. My niece married a fellow who plays clawhammer banjo, a style I don't know but would love to learn. One evening I got to perform at a jam session with the Utah Old Time Fiddlers and Country Music Association. I ran into two banjo players at a summer girls' camp who taught me a new version of Cripple Creek. My childhood neighbour up the street played too, and even lent me his banjo for a while until I could afford my own. Once I even met a girl walking through an airport carrying a banjo case, and when I told her I played too, it's like we became instant friends. It isn't a common instrument here in Canada, though it can often be found in Irish folk music. Still, it does seem to appear when I'm least expecting it.</p><p>Banjo has been the brunt of a few jokes in its history, and people don't always seem to take it seriously. It's actually a pretty complicated and beautiful instrument, and it's not just for Muppet frogs to play while sitting on a log in a swamp. Though it isn't something you'll hear often in a concert hall or accompanying an orchestra, you can play Paganini on it. You can use violin mutes on it to get a soft, chiming sound from it. Or, yeah, you can hammer out some bluegrass on it, set people's feet to stomping. I've always loved bluegrass, and I can't hear it without jumping up and clogging.</p><p>Yes, I clog. Or at least, I did until arthritis took over my knees.</p><p>What's your superpower?</p><p><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-32544717325599914612024-01-13T05:38:00.001-05:002024-01-13T05:38:21.942-05:00Yarn Stash Score<p>I was talking with my weaving instructor, and she said she had some fibres to share with me. A fellow weaver had retired from weaving and gave away her stash, and it wasn't stuff she was going to use. Would I like it? For sure! Buying weaving supplies is pricey. So I went over to pick it up, expecting a small bag of thread.</p><p>I came home with five BIG boxes of all kinds of thread and yarn -- stuff for knitting, crocheting, embroidery, and needlepoint as well as weaving. Bulky yarns that will work in peg loom rugs. Two shopping bags of scrubby yarns and craft cotton for making kitchen cloths. Two BIG cones of light yarn the size of basketballs (my instructor says she ended up with 17 of these!). Such generosity! It felt like Christmas. I went through it and selected some fuzzy yarns and baby yarns that I likely won't use, which I can pass on to a fellow knitter who makes stuff for charity. There's a cone of purple yarn my granddaughter will love. I also collected a bag of cotton-silk blend that I'll give to a friend who makes more exotic stuff than I do. I may find more that I can share as I dig through the hoard.</p><p>There are some especially beautiful weaving cottons in heathery colours that I look forward to using. Some look good for making tapestries, and I can already see seascapes and Scottish hills in my mind. So many ideas rattling in my head now! I fear other responsibilities are going to languish in neglect for a while...</p><p>I feel bad that someone obviously bought all this with the intention of certain projects and never got to them, but hopefully I can honour it and put it to good use. I think the first thing I do is make scarves and hats for the homeless, as winter has finally come to Ontario.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-70752434824662774872024-01-09T20:03:00.001-05:002024-01-09T20:03:22.166-05:00Another manuscript<p>It was a gray and rainy day and no chance to walk to the lake. Laundry is done. Varnish is still drying on the bannisters so I can't sand them yet. I'm out of weaving cotton. Left my guitar and banjo at home. Nothing good on Netflix. So as a last resort, I finally buckled down and spent the evening polishing off a manuscript and sending it off to my editor. This one is my first attempt at full-length non-fiction, so not sure how it will go, but that's all I'm going to say about it for now! Superstition still runs high at times like this, and I don't want to jinx anything...I'm a jangle of nerves.</p><p>I still have two fiction manuscripts (well, more than two, but two <i>main</i> ones) that I'm going to work on next. </p><p>But not tonight. The big question for now is...to make peanut butter cookies and snarf them all in a frenzy of stress-eating, or to drink a sedate herbal tea and go to bed early? What would J.K. Rowling do?</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-1050598213076151432024-01-04T06:47:00.001-05:002024-01-04T06:47:08.989-05:00I don't make New Year's resolutions<p>I am not a big fan of goal-setting. It seems to me if there's something you want to improve, you just start doing it. If you fall short, you start again, right now. If there's a trait you want to develop, you just "be" that. No setting goals about what you want to be in the future -- just <i>be, now.</i> And no one is keeping track of how many times you fail or start again. </p><p>Having said that, I do choose a theme each year and let it influence or guide my thoughts, focus, and activities during the year. For example, one year was focused on "health," one year was "family history," and last year was "emergency preparedness."</p><p>We've just come out of a long and rather grueling (and financially draining) church renovation, which isn't quite done yet, but we're at a pausing point. The family has undergone some changes and challenges. We're feeling a bit battered. So this year's theme is Recovery. Or maybe Quiet. Or maybe Ice Cream -- I'm still deciding.</p><p>To start this year's theme off, at any rate, I am spending two weeks at the church, the first with my husband and the second week alone, practising "Quiet." When the furnace isn't running, it's a silent place. It's surrounded by empty farm fields. Cars going past are rare, and the thick walls protect me from the sound, muffling anything outside. I can hear my own thoughts here. I can write and read and sleep and not go anywhere or see anyone if I choose not to. Once in a while I take a walk to the local lake, rarely encountering another person. The ideal setting for being quiet.</p><p>I'm also participating in a pre-recorded online yoga and meditation class, which helps lead me toward stillness. I've gotten out of the habit of sitting still, and this next period of time will be centering for me. Maybe I'll get some more writing done. Maybe I'll crochet, which is something I find meditative and soothing. Maybe I'll just watch Korean dramas on Netflix. There's no self-judgment this week, that's the agreement I've made with myself.</p><p>We foresee someday opening up the church to others who are also seeking retreat and silence. Running meditation sessions and other workshops, to share a little of the peace and stillness and healing that I hope this place will come to embody.</p><p>Meanwhile, I'll have to make sure hubby has stocked the freezer with ice cream before he goes, just in case that ends up being the theme... Just to keep all bases covered, you know.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-28279142636905108312023-12-24T04:28:00.001-05:002023-12-24T04:28:18.275-05:00The most Canadian photo<p> </p><p>The most Canadian photo ever appeared in my Facebook feed today. It gave me joy, so I had to share.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RrYkup_6WBWYSH1nLoDFIlyoBlFYQDQ7eza017QWSPUOK0b7jFl8h89wpWuNHs4mkFpNPhljs5KDcwiE08dMWIUPy6Jo8sINurNP-fZzL_UxTuYSRQLRzyJNPH2wz0qkB4fMvE6q_uZ1VIfjMfpsRufbodcTSfCuZq-MWOQOEiLUbz96ege67NI0QWU/s1370/most%20canadian%20photo%20ever.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1370" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3RrYkup_6WBWYSH1nLoDFIlyoBlFYQDQ7eza017QWSPUOK0b7jFl8h89wpWuNHs4mkFpNPhljs5KDcwiE08dMWIUPy6Jo8sINurNP-fZzL_UxTuYSRQLRzyJNPH2wz0qkB4fMvE6q_uZ1VIfjMfpsRufbodcTSfCuZq-MWOQOEiLUbz96ege67NI0QWU/s320/most%20canadian%20photo%20ever.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Thanks to Green Feet, Ecosystem Services <a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xt0psk2 xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz xt0b8zv x1fey0fg" href="http://www.greenfeetes.com/?fbclid=IwAR3o89SUfpUcoiuGmnWJLpXWKtGtiW-jBe6zsxXn3r0JDES40E2YvkwCxBI" rel="nofollow" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; font-weight: 600; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="-1" target="_blank">greenfeetes.com</a> for the photo!</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-75948982466297320832023-12-19T20:27:00.001-05:002023-12-19T20:27:24.518-05:00I have no idea how I will cope<p>In March, they are tearing down our local community centre to completely rebuild it. Two years without a library within walking distance. I will not survive.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-30734967124664277102023-12-19T07:11:00.003-05:002023-12-19T07:11:27.398-05:00$1 Properties<p>Is anyone else bugged by the real estate ads that say the property is listed for $1? I know this is a ploy to raise interest, and usually the property is up for auction with a sky-high reserve price (which price is never indicated in the ad). The $1 is just click bait, really. But could you challenge that in the courts as misleading or false advertising? Could you insist the asking price really is $1 and hold them to it?</p><p>If so, bring it on! There's a six-bedroom house on acreage in Caledon that's got my kids' names on it.</p><p> </p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-18978267313579129092023-12-13T17:12:00.000-05:002023-12-13T17:12:25.875-05:00Haiku at Christmas<p> </p><p><br /></p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"><b>Haiku at Christmas</b></p><p aria-hidden="true" class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"> </p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">Sharp realization,</p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">sudden punch to the stomach</p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">takes me unprepared.</p><p aria-hidden="true" class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"> </p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">Knocked breathless by this –</p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">Last year I had two daughters.</p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">This year I have none.</p><p aria-hidden="true" class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"> </p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">Beyond my control,</p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">my life now has unforeseen</p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;">holes the shape of them.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-35569917439934611972023-12-09T05:05:00.005-05:002023-12-09T05:05:33.745-05:00Revelation 3:11<p>I'm rereading the Book of Revelation right now, because, well, you know, look at the times we live in, and I came across a phrase in chapter 3 verse 11 that jumped out at me: "let no man take thy crown." </p><p>Instantly I thought of all kinds of instances where the world tries to "take your crown," reduce you, negate you, deprive you, deceive you, tell you you're not important or "enough." Society tries to make you lose your focus and distract you from your vision with less important matters, mundane stuff. People try to make you forget you are worthy, valued, and destined for greater things. They try to rob you of your self worth. Sometimes it's done in subtle ways and sometimes blatantly. Sometimes it's done maliciously and sometimes it happens simply because those people have also lost their vision.</p><p>If there's one wish I have for my grandkids, it's that they keep in mind all their lives that God loves and cherishes them individually and has offered them a path to peace and fulfillment. That they let that knowledge guide them, so that they keep ahold of their crowns despite anything the world and its evils may throw at them. </p><p>President Nelson once said to hold onto your hats, because it's going to be a bumpy ride. </p><p>Remember your hat is a crown.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-76292055869928678782023-12-04T05:27:00.003-05:002023-12-04T05:27:54.179-05:00The Futility of Gathering Nuts<p>The city comes around twice in the fall with vacuum trucks to pick up autumn leaves. You can save yourself the cost of yard bags by raking all your leaves onto the boulevard for the city to collect. This results in large mounds of leaves left on the curb for a few weeks at a time.</p><p>The other day, my husband watched an industrious squirrel busily collecting peanuts from the neighbour's feeder...and burying them in the leaf pile on her curb. It was heartbreaking, thinking of how gleeful he must be -- all these nuts, a bumper crop to store for the winter, the perfect hiding place that didn't require hard digging, couldn't believe his luck. There was no way to warn him what was about to happen. No way to tell him this wasn't a good place to store his winter preps.</p><p>Of course, the truck came by and sucked up the pile along with all his peanuts. I flinch as I envision him coming to the curb and finding it all gone, all his hard work for nothing. </p><p>And I wonder how often I've done the same thing, putting my faith in the wrong thing, the fleeting and impermanent thing, the illusion of security, simply because I didn't understand the greater picture.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-36829277476834825782023-11-17T07:10:00.000-05:002023-11-17T07:10:17.049-05:00In which Kristen goes down the rabbit hole<p>I just watched Survival Lilly's Youtube video about the European Union's moving to a digital ID and wallet for everyone. She makes some good points about how unnecessary it is, and showed how it works in China currently. I admit I found it chilling. I don't even own a cell phone. I and a lot of other segments of the population will be essentially eliminated.</p><p>It got me to thinking -- all of this will only work if we go along with it. The Grand Reset can only be defeated by a Grand Refusal. If we all boycotted it, they'd have to listen. If they won't pay us if we don't have a digital wallet, then I guess we don't go to work. If we can't get into grocery stores without a digital ID, then I guess we don't shop. How long would it take before everything ground to a halt? You see, the government needs us to be good little workers and consumers. And even government officials have to eat, and they rely on the same supply chain we do. If farmers stopped selling to conglomerates, if truckers stopped shipping, if packagers stopped packaging, if water treatment plants closed down, and if the media stopped pasting officials' faces across the globe...how long before the government started listening to the people? I bet it wouldn't take long at all. But you can't protest against a system you rely on. We have to get people to prepare and have at least a short-term supply so we're not shooting ourselves in the foot.</p><p>Some people say "If I don't go to work, they'll replace me with a robot." Maybe true, but first they'd have to scale up the production and programming and installation of robots, and that requires miners, engineers, electricians, truckers, and lots of other humans. If the workers don't produce the robots, the robots don't replace the workers. Besides, robots don't make good consumers. They need us humans for that role.</p><p>We have more power than we realize, but we have to be united in our refusal to participate. They've spent a lot of energy over the past few years getting us to splinter into polarized groups, to sow discord among populations, to make us see our fellow humans as competitors. We no longer say "We disagree," but we say "If you disagree with me, I hate you." It's interesting that they've destroyed unity just before they bring forth a system that can only be resisted if we're united.</p><p><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-57455526777449622182023-11-15T05:36:00.003-05:002023-11-15T05:36:49.298-05:00Another dream...<p>Last night it was about replacing a leaky window. I think the renovations are starting to get to me. </p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-65762250252144495962023-11-13T05:38:00.002-05:002023-11-13T05:38:55.952-05:00DreamsI don't know. I thought nightly dreams were supposed to be mini escapes from reality, or ways of working out problems subconsciously, or bursts of creative formation of ideas. I've heard people tell of marvelous and thrilling dreams in full technicolour. Shouldn't dreams be about flying over the ocean like a bird, or discovering treasure, or dancing in starlight, or solving mysteries?<div><br /></div><div>Maybe so. Maybe for other people. Not me. Last night I dreamt about dehydrating potatoes.</div>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-87911914455555377452023-11-11T04:42:00.000-05:002023-11-11T04:42:11.434-05:00Remembrance Day Observation<p>It is November 11th, the day we pause to acknowledge the veterans and those affected by war, past and present. The busiest day of the year for us bagpipers. My husband played for the local Army-Navy Club here in Mississauga, which kindly gave the band a sum of money for participating. And the band is going to gift the money back, because the sad reality is that the Club is without heat because they're unable to afford the $70,000 it will take to fix their aging building's system. A Canadian winter approaching, and our veterans don't have heat.</p><p>This is shameful, and I want to do something about it. Why is there no government funding to support and update our local Legions? Legions and places like the Army-Navy Club play important roles as community hubs. In some small towns, they are the only social venue operating other than, perhaps, churches. They are probably the main reason bagpiping has stayed alive and vibrant in Canada, too. </p><p>So this is a call-out for awareness, for compassion, for action. I'll find out what the best way is to go about fund-raising (a GoFundMe campaign, perhaps? I'm not tech-y and will have to do some research). Let's do something to give back to this organization that has done so much for Mississauga, and the veterans who have done so much for Canada. </p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-11014756137205027112023-11-11T04:32:00.001-05:002023-11-11T04:32:17.258-05:00Garden still going in November!<p>My garden has been really weird this year. Peas finally coming up in late summer, green peppers still going in late October, and right now, in mid November, I have tomatoes blossoming and I can still go out and pick green onions, bok choy, lettuce, and kale for my morning omelette. The plants don't know if it's summer or winter. One day we get a hard frost, and the next day I'm out in my t-shirt, raking the few leaves that have started to fall. But lots of leaves still on the trees. Ah well, roll with it. This is our new unpredictable reality.</p><p>Picture below of about two thirds of my carrot harvest this year. I've frozen some, pressure canned some, and dehydrated some. All bases covered!</p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmPdIy4DpZ2jBZ_f9MYxtP8fGYR5gynJWe26MHhgORLG_AXCi8bGdkc_qO0rAuNo3Y7Zi7lEQx2vz5ywZeLgIKq6aWQTbQHoF0MPtrq3y-1VNM0R-NFYu1kjcmtk7gh-hFzmVrx5url7pKg3dtq4iuZVDgEDVZXkskeriAF8jBjsV8V6vybiklEz2wznQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmPdIy4DpZ2jBZ_f9MYxtP8fGYR5gynJWe26MHhgORLG_AXCi8bGdkc_qO0rAuNo3Y7Zi7lEQx2vz5ywZeLgIKq6aWQTbQHoF0MPtrq3y-1VNM0R-NFYu1kjcmtk7gh-hFzmVrx5url7pKg3dtq4iuZVDgEDVZXkskeriAF8jBjsV8V6vybiklEz2wznQ" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-73472843433423897552023-10-23T05:27:00.000-04:002023-10-23T05:27:01.326-04:00Apples and Visits<p>My good friend whom I've known for 51 years came to visit last week, and we had fun just hanging out, doing puzzles, walking by the lake, watching movies, gathering hickory nuts, and yacking. She's the lovely type of low-maintenance guest who is always up for an adventure but content to sit around reading too. Whenever she comes to visit we do a project, anything from hauling rocks to weeding the yard, and she's an incredibly good sport about the construction sites I plop her into. This time the project was washing windows and polishing windowsills. She went home on Friday, and now...reality hits. I have one and a half bushels of apples to process, three buckets of hickory nuts to crack, carrots and onions to harvest and preserve from the garden, tools to clean and put away... and then the blessed calm of winter.</p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-4103472475567739262023-10-14T06:20:00.003-04:002023-10-14T11:51:32.224-04:00God's Parenting Mistake<p>The world is on fire, and everyone seems to be fighting over what part of this burning planet others are allowed to stand on. Nevermind that our hair is in flames, just stay on your side of the wall. I was horrified by Ukraine, by Armenia, by so many other conflicts. This week I'm flabbergasted by the conflict in Israel/Palestine. Each side is firm in their belief that God gave them a certain portion, and they take that to mean "No one else is allowed." Nowhere did he say "Use it to indulge your sense of superiority and oppress others." What if God gave them that land with the expectation that they would use it to shelter and feed others on it? To take stewardship and care of it and ALL its inhabitants? And if we truly believed God gave us this land, this earth, wouldn't you have thought we'd have taken better care of such a gift? </p><p>Perhaps He gave certain inheritances to our ancestors, but that doesn't mean WE still deserve it. I suspect we don't. I suspect we've forfeited any right to this entire planet through our own cruelty, mindlessness, and self-centeredness. This tiny, burning earth deserves better. Right now, I wouldn't mind if God took us all out. Blew the whistle. Right! Everyone, out of the pool! If you can't share nicely, no one gets it!</p><p>I suppose, if we wanted to, we could blame God for starting all this conflict in the first place. After all, He made the fundamental parenting mistake of playing favourites (He's done that a lot throughout human history -- Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph to name a few), and anyone can tell you that only leads to sibling rivalry. Maybe instead of asserting our rights and summarily dispatching others from off our planet, we should address that fundamental problem, and get rid of the concept of favourites.</p><p>I know it isn't as simple as territorialism. There are a lot of other factors at play, and I have no idea how this will be sorted out. Meanwhile, I'm personally on the side of the children and animals and plants. I'm not too impressed with adult humans right now.</p><p><br /></p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="x_MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; color: #242424; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-86631052573074520772023-10-07T17:05:00.001-04:002023-10-07T17:05:06.140-04:00Mulchmaker, Mulchmaker, make me a mulch!<p>I am singing and dancing, because I got a new, cheap leaf shredder from Princess Auto, and it has revolutionized my gardening. The two catalpa trees at the end of my driveway usually take up bags and bags just for the leaves (I pollard them each fall). This year they were tidily turned into one bag of leaf litter in about fifteen minutes. Cool! I used it for mulch this time, but I also intend to chop up leaves to add to my compost. No more unsightly black garbage bags of rotting leaves needed! </p><p>I have sadly neglected my garden soil for a long time, but I mean to change all that. And my new toy will be the key, I think. </p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765396600533116084.post-73832825042430166312023-10-05T16:53:00.001-04:002023-10-05T16:53:13.372-04:00Couldn't help laughing. Did someone really think this was a good brand name?<p>I guess we got our Thanksgiving turkey from Florida this year...</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0T1T-AAE8blmqFB_qM_d26g1UCJs-5mWfxqkTbvSt7f-WsdPp3iINOsvB76_xJAfydrumXvCwKZkLFMi1Ylbx60r4EwemxzCj8yHVcm5GfBHACxu6vuLDpXmNQ_yUQ3zq4BZzuFMnHPCnMoZP9fsjLCsJul5CPjBBdK7XvVezxrKX7J1lrNa0ZnwZ18A/s1920/flamingo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0T1T-AAE8blmqFB_qM_d26g1UCJs-5mWfxqkTbvSt7f-WsdPp3iINOsvB76_xJAfydrumXvCwKZkLFMi1Ylbx60r4EwemxzCj8yHVcm5GfBHACxu6vuLDpXmNQ_yUQ3zq4BZzuFMnHPCnMoZP9fsjLCsJul5CPjBBdK7XvVezxrKX7J1lrNa0ZnwZ18A/s320/flamingo.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Kristen McKendryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16747439425828324212noreply@blogger.com0