tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57913396860783383542024-03-16T09:11:43.771+08:00The Porter's Lodgeour heart is restless until it finds its rest in theeLeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.comBlogger188125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-24961060308371910652022-07-10T22:04:00.003+08:002022-07-10T22:04:31.593+08:00In which I'm back, to write again about death<p> Is death the only thing that can pull me back to blogging? Eh, maybe. I write more on Facebook these days, if I write at all. Three children don't leave much time for typing or holding a pen. Anyway, I didn't want to think this out on social media because it will seem too linked to whatever specific events are going on at the moment, rather than an accumulation of thoughts. </p><p>Basically I'm just tired of the appropriate public-facing grief language of Christians while at the same time using it myself and seeing its use. I think it's a social media problem, because we're all our own little news agencies and there are people who do not deserve to be let in to our inner sanctums waiting for a comment or an update or whatever. So of course we fall back on the tried & true language of faith, and we do of course find comfort in these ideas, but it also just seems so incredibly shallow. </p><p><i>We look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. </i></p><p>So true. So very, very true. But death, even a good death, even a waited for at the end of a long life death, still has pain and sorrow because it is still a loss. And I wish that we had a lot more openness around that, because honestly death is pretty shitty. Or if not death itself, being left alive without that person in this world anymore. </p><p>I guess it's impolite to say that. It's not comforting. It's not meaningful. </p><p>I like that part in the Bible where, before he raises Lazarus from the dead, Jesus weeps. I think that's the honesty I'm looking for. This isn't an honesty that should be shared publicly, at least not for people like me. So by all means, let's keep posting the comforting Christian phrases about death when we have to be public. The public doesn't need our deepest emotions. But hopefully as we mourn the losses that time will be sure we experience, we are allowing ourselves to feel that pain as well. It is part of our humanity. We are not less than Christian to feel pierced by the sword of loss. </p>LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-59480153597082514862020-01-19T09:55:00.001+08:002020-01-19T09:55:42.004+08:00Reflections on dad’s death, one year on.<br />
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I feel like I’ve spent a lot of the last year just trying to
dodge well meaning people who want to have conversations that I don’t feel like
having. I’m sure this is more my paranoia than actual reality, but I’ve found
well-meaning words with little understanding of me or my situation do more harm
than good. In fact I think I’ve spent most of my life trying to avoid people’s
input, after discovering at an early enough age that most people just don’t “get”
me. Dad always did, tho, and Mum is the first to admit that he could figure out
what was going on when she couldn’t. My way of grieving isn’t to sit around just
feeling sad or regretting my loss. Feelings are feelings, and facts are facts, and
so it’s not like those times aren’t present but I’d rather focus on the good memories
and the ‘hope of the world to come’ than lamenting all that might have been. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I spent most of the 14<sup>th</sup>-16<sup>th</sup> bracing
for a potential “onslaught” of messages. At first I thought this was sort of
vain, but then when absently scrolling through Facebook to distract myself and
noticing that someone, not in my immediate family, was using dad’s face as
their profile pic I realized that I wasn’t completely off base. Nothing like
trying to kill a few moments of boredom and having your dead father’s face
stalk you around social media because no matter how many times you try to block
or hide the posts they’re everywhere – newsfeed! FB messenger! stories! It was
rather ghastly, until it became so incredibly pervasive that I had to see the
humour at the level of awfulness this was. Well, thank God I’ve always been
able to find something funny in most situations.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My actual plan for the “memorial” worked. As I remarked to
David, people like us, who take big risks and have to push regularly beyond our
comfort zones don’t get the “luxury” of taking to our beds when things get
hard. I’m not negating self-care, and I certainly have had plenty of that
thanks to my loving family, but I’m not in a position where I can really just
take a few days off work so I can sit in bed and be depressed. I wasn’t happy,
but at least going to the office and focusing on the mountain of work I want to
complete before my impending maternity leave was something to do, rather than
giving my brain any more excuse to rewire itself to find certain days/times of
year depressing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So, one year survived. Natural drive for analysis makes me
want to “score” it, but that seems ridiculous. It was a year of survival mode,
for more reasons than just mere grief, but it also had its glorious times. Most
of January – April was a blur but then once life for the next year sort of had
a settled pattern I could crawl out of the fog and, in early May, we took off on
our vacation to Hangzhou. Climbing through the hills there and praying for dad’s
soul at a mountain temple were what I needed to complete that first stage, to
connect once more with the world around me. After that it was a matter of
slowly cutting back on the bad coping tactics. I’m sure it has not been an easy
year for my family, but fortunately they haven’t made me feel it. And there is something
wonderful to be said for a husband and children who quietly pick up your pieces
and just get on with it, never making you feel badly for what you can’t do, and
always supporting you for what you can. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On the way home last week a local woman struck up a
conversation with Walter, and as he expressed his adoration for his father I
realized that the torch has been carried. I love that my children have a dad
they can adore just as much as I adored my dad—<o:p></o:p></div>
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Woman: Why are you in Shanghai?<o:p></o:p></div>
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W: Because my daddy has a way good job. My daddy is way
smart and he works hard so he has a good job and soon he’s going to have an
even better one because he is so smart!<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-20064469768863639992019-09-26T13:15:00.000+08:002019-09-26T13:15:20.547+08:00Hangzhou: May 1 - 4, 2019Working full time, raising a family, and trying to cut down on screen time to be with said family makes it really hard to keep up blogging. That's ok -- Instagram has proven a quick way to get out the little soundbites of life. One magical day, as my kids say, I'll hopefully have time to get everything down where it should be for the book everyone keeps telling me to write. But for now -- here are the very rough notes from our trip to Hangzhou in May.<br />
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<br /><b>Wednesday May 1st </b><br /><ul>
<li>Check out a night market: fortunately there was one across from our hotel, because we missed our train and didn't arrive until dark. </li>
<li>We wandered around the neighbourhood until we found a restaurant serving up local cuisine. Beggar's chicken & longjing shrimp were the winners. </li>
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<b>Thursday May 2nd </b><ul>
<li>Lingyin Temple & Feilai Peak: it took <i>forever</i> to get here thanks to the crowds. But it was totally worth it. We found a small restaurant selling beggar's chicken and cold noodles, so scarfed down some lunch before heading to the peak. There are all kinds of Buddhas carved into the mountainside. We reached the peak, climbed back down, and then went over to Lingyin Temple which is 1700 years old and climbed all around the premises. It was so beautifully peaceful up in the mountains. </li>
<li>West Lake: To beat the crowding on the busses, we decided to walk back from Feilai to Hangzhou, via West Lake's shores. It was a long walk but so beautiful to watch the landscape change with the coming night. Everyone was ready to sit down to a hearty meal, and lots of cold beer, when we reached the city.</li>
</ul>
<b>Friday May 3rd </b><ul>
<li>Hangzhou National Tea Museum: This was the most relaxing experience. We got to climb up the tea terraces, eat an al fresco lunch, go to a tea tasting, and then take afternoon tea in a rock & water garden. </li>
<li>Hefang Ancient Street: Not that dissimilar from Qibao Town in Shanghai, but it was worth a look. </li>
<li>West Lake Dragon Boat Night Cruise: It was nice to see the lake all lit up at night. Lots of bugs & bats which Annie loved. </li>
</ul>
<b>Saturday May 4th </b><ul>
<li>Cathedral of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception: This was a very special experience -- parishioners were setting up for a wedding but were so welcoming to us. They let us wander all of the church, taking photos of the stained glass, and then brought us to the parish hall to have a drink of water and a rest. </li>
</ul>
We really enjoyed the local food, which was a lot lighter than Shanghai fare (Shanghai food is typically oily & sweet). Beggar's chicken was a particular favourite and we managed to eat one every day. These were the dishes we made sure to hunt down:<br /><ul>
<li>Dongpo Pork (東坡肉, dōng pō ròu): stewed in an emulsion of vinegar and sugar together with scallions and ginger. Usually served in a ceramic clay pot. </li>
<li>Sweet and Sour West Lake Carp (西湖醋鱼, Xīhú cù yú) </li>
<li>Dragon Well Tea Shrimp (龙井虾仁, Lóngjǐng xiārén) </li>
<li>Beggar’s Chicken (叫花鸡) </li>
<li>Pian Er Chuan Noodles (片儿川面) </li>
<li>Deep Fried Tofu Skin Rolls (干炸响铃) </li>
<li>Stewed Bamboo Shoots (糟烩鞭笋) </li>
<li>Longjing Tea (locally grown) </li>
</ul>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-17145017278284962192019-03-15T18:00:00.000+08:002019-03-15T18:01:20.893+08:00Home and AwayDeath has closed a chapter in my life. This was the first time I’d left from Canada without my father’s blessing. It was a noticeable absence, an irreparable change. <div>
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Yet Shanghai has provided a strange comfort and familiarity. As I left the office today the air was heavy with pollution and humidity. The scent of sewage mixed lightly with that of fried noodles and Shanghai’s characteristic sweet & oily sauces. It sounds strange but it was redolent with the promise of adventure, of Friday nights spent wandering in the warm dusk, of weekend galleries & parks. <div>
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I can’t recall dad ever telling me he’d wish I’d settle down. The first half of his life was spent in frequent moves, so maybe he understood this more than most. And he certainly liked to travel. </div>
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When he died, it felt like there was this immense external pressure to move home, as if some people thought these past two years were a glorified vacation rather than a family’s life. I realize it was meant to be supportive, but I found it so isolating because it was a further reminder that one of the few people I never needed to explain myself to was gone. </div>
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So here I am, back in Shanghai, trying to sort out another round of life’s tangles. Knowing the stress I’d be returning to made it so tempting to just give up and not return, but we both decided we couldn’t do that to the cat. And maybe that’s why there was such strange comfort in the heavy scents of an urban dusk, a breath of the familiar cutting across my distracted mind.</div>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-65123929697084080572017-12-28T14:17:00.000+08:002017-12-28T14:17:12.581+08:00Love Came Down at ChristmasDecember is one of my high times of the year for feeling homesick, or perhaps heartsick is more accurate. This year it has really led me to question what I was searching for.<br /><br />The best family Christmas I can remember as an adult was 2007. I flew home from Edmonton and it was so good to be back on the Island. It was one of the last Christmases we were all together and all healthy, or at least healthy enough to celebrate. It was a Christmas for bundling up all the good memories of childhood and experiencing them one last time. <div>
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Christmas 2008 turned out to be my last “grown child” Christmas at home, although I didn’t know it at the time. Part of me wishes I had known it, although mostly I’m glad I didn’t because it let me experience the time without suffering too much from pre-emptive nostalgia, a condition I regularly suffer from! The travel was stressful because it would not stop snowing and I was incredibly stressed in general, because my time in Toronto was not going as well as I had hoped and I knew I had to go back and see things through to the end without any idea of what the end would be. But in between these moments of stress were so many good times, just the goodness of being at home and feeling secure no matter what storms, the real and the imaginary, were raging around. The New Year’s Eve engagement didn’t hurt either. </div>
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I can stop my thoughts here and think yes, these are the things that I am homesick for, of course they are. I love the home I grew up in, and I don’t just mean the people in it. To have lived 17 years in the same spot, to know what every creak and groan of the house means, to know all the hidden treasures of the property & neighbourhood… these are the things that nourished my being. As someone who lives in a near constant state of panic it is incredibly important to have this safe space that helps ground me in reality. Yet time marches on, and I cannot return to those Christmases. We are all too different and disease has left a long-sorrowful mark among us. There are always now two people missing yet not gone, living in a shadow land, and no amount of wishing in the world will bring those days back of my aunt’s house smelling of turkey & gravy while four of us crammed into the entry way, trying to struggle out of boots & coats and get all the greetings out of the way, as if we hadn’t just seen each other the week before. I cannot share with my children the fun of my Gramma’s house, full of strange nooks & crannies, the platters of Ukrainian sausage & cheese & headcheese & cold roast beef & cookies & cherries served up as a “snack” while we played noisy family games and let our warmth shine out against the darkness. My children must make their own memories.<br /><br />When we came back to Canada I was surprised to find that homesickness still returned at Christmastime, but in those years it was a yearning for the Christmases we’d had in England. I missed the Christmas feasts, the mince pies, the Clare carol service, and ghost stories at the Leper Chapel. I missed David’s yearly goose procurement, the carefully planned appetizers, the stockpiles of port & sherry, and the Boxing Day rambles in which we walked it all off. By some sort of Christmas magic our English years always involved a 4 day holiday, although often longer. Mostly, I think, I just missed the two of us being together and, at least for a season, having it all figured out. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know very well from experience that the first year in a new place is the hardest. Everything is new and it is hard to figure out which traditions to cling to, which to let go, and which new ones to adopt. This year it felt like so much had to be let go due to circumstance. No appetizers, because we have no oven in which to cook them. Ditto for the Christmas bird. No snow. No extended family. No country-wide holiday. And while the lack of marketing made it easier to hit the Advent vibe, by Gaudete Sunday I was missing the total overwhelmingness of Christmas that we are used to. <br /><br />Our church put on a Nativity Play. Walter was a shepherd, Annie an angel. Suddenly I was reliving something I was certain would be gone forever, the strangeness of putting on Christmas costumes and living out the nativity as a child. The dissatisfaction over not getting to be a member of the Holy Family (thank you, Walter) and the pride of being brave and standing up in front of all those people. After the play we went out as a family and just enjoyed the day together. When the sun set we enjoyed the spectacle of lights that is Xuhui, especially the added sparkle that came from some of the Christmas displays outside the malls. </div>
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<br />Christmas Eve Day is my big homesick day. I think this was always my favourite day of Christmas holidays as a child. There is still so much to look forward to – the candlelit church service, the one present I was allowed to open before bed, the time with friends & family, the hope of Christmas presents… It is a day for trying to stay warm, throwing on the Christmas music, and finishing the preparations for the next few days. This year, tho, it was the day after the day I had food poisoning. I doubted that it would be anything more than a day of frustration. Presents weren’t wrapped, weren’t even all purchased, and I didn’t know if I could make it to Mass, and the kids were squirrely from being kept in the day before, and there weren’t even eggnog & cookies to comfort myself with. Not even cheese!<br /><br />David came to the rescue. He’s done this regularly over the past decade or so and probably much more than he gets credit for. Somehow he got us all into church clothes and out the door. He convinced me to do the grocery shop early, even tho’ it meant he had to carry two baguettes around for 8 hours. He got us to Xuhui with enough time to grab a small lunch before Mass and finish the Christmas shopping after. And more than anything else, he met every tentative negatively questioning comment of mine with a positive reminder. Neither of us thought that Christmas Eve Mass, at 5pm, would be crowded so when we were crammed to the sides of the narthex with no view of the church I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. It turned out that it was prime viewing space for the procession of choir children, all decked in red & white robes, followed by deacons bearing a litter of flowers and the Christ-child and, last of all, the priests in cloth-of-gold surrounded by a cloud of incense. My heart ache stopped right around then as we were swept with the crowd into the heart of the cathedral where O Holy Night was soaring above the bustle & confusion of thousands of people getting ready for Mass.<br /><br />On Christmas Day as we sat around our table with our new friend, Ihri, I realized that it really did feel like Christmas. We were all laughing about something and the kids were coming and going with various Christmas presents in hand to show Ihri. We could have stayed closed off this Christmas, family only thank you, trying hard to capture some vague sense of what has already passed. But instead we pushed forward and I ended up discovering what it was that I was seeking – the sharing of Christmas joy with family and friends. Homes, people, traditions shall pass away but love? Love came down at Christmas. <br /><br /> <br /><br /> <br /><br /> </div>
LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-91149664130909933342017-11-24T14:10:00.000+08:002017-11-24T14:10:01.410+08:00Shanghai City ZooWe’ve been in China for about eight months now. That is crazy. It doesn’t feel like eight months, but instead like forever and like no time at all. In other words, it feels relatively settled. I survived, barely, one of the hottest summers on record with almost no air conditioning. I managed to get my own phone number. I know and sort of pronounce the following words:<div>
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谢谢 (Xièxiè) – Thank you<br />你好 (Nǐ hǎo) – Hello<br />再见 (Zàijiàn) – Goodbye<br />美式 (Měishì) – Americano<br />奶茶(Nǎichá) – Milk Tea<br />煎饼 (Jiānbing) – the ultimate crepe, stuffed with crispy wonton, pickle, greens, hoisin, chilli sauce, and possibly meat. If you visit me I will make you try this. They are made fresh to order while you watch.<br />月饼 (Yuèbǐng) – mooncake, ie a small pie with a custard, dried fruit/nut, or meat filling. <br /> <br />It’s a pretty small list, I know, but the Chinese tones throw me for a loop every time. I can also recognize various characters that I only know the English meaning of so my reading comprehension is a little higher than my speaking ability. My dad used to tell me that by 6 months in a foreign country you can gain enough of the common tongue for basic fluency. He hadn’t reckoned with Chinese! <br /> <br />One of our favourite things to do in Shanghai is to go to the <a href="https://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/shanghai/zoo.htm" target="_blank">Shanghai City Zoo</a>. We’ve already been three times. The admission price is very reasonable and the zoo is a giant green park with lots of space for the kids to run and play. There’s even an amusement park, although our attempts to go on a ride “up high” to celebrate Ascension Day were a bit of a bust due to panicking children.</div>
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It’s hard to say what the kids’ favourite part is. The usually like to run to the aquarium and reptile area, because they recognize some of the fish from Finding Nemo and enjoy the good creepy thrill of seeing crocodiles and deadly snakes up close. </div>
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Emily really enjoys the monkeys but Walter views them as competition. Last time we took them he very pointedly ignored the monkeys and was heard to say “I can run and climb better than a monkey so I don’t understand why everyone is watching them”. He mostly stumped about, scowling fiercely & swinging a stick. Meanwhile Emily and one of the orangutans shared a special time of bonding of their shared sense of humour, laughing at Emily’s capers. </div>
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The bear area is, of course, one family favourite. The zoo has pandas and both children adore them, although I prefer the smaller red pandas to the giant ones. When we feel homesick we cheer up with a peep at the Grizzly, brown, and black bears. The bears stay true to insolent form and we always get a laugh from seeing their blatant disregard for good public manners, although it does sadden me to see these great beasts penned up. Funny that I do not share the same sentiments for the lions and tigers…I suppose it is a reaction to what you’ve seen free and wild.</div>
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We always pack a picnic lunch as there are tonnes of nooks & crannies in which to sit down and eat, either by various animals or just overlooking some of the water features or meadows. There is even a bit of a goat farm where you can feed veggies to the goats or play on the playground – a great space to get the wiggles out prior to the long trip back home. And, of course, no visit to the zoo is considered successful unless the small ones get an ice cream. </div>
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<br />LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-72049055420526487942017-11-22T10:05:00.000+08:002017-11-22T10:05:05.558+08:00Remembering the Dead & DyingDeath is on my mind a lot this November. A friend’s mom just died. An acquaintance’s mum just died. Each night we say a prayer for the dead as part of our November devotions. And aside from these more immediate reminders of mortality and loss there is the ever present background hum of my aunt and my Gramma, both in care homes and both ever so slowly slipping away. There is also the myriad of friends and relatives in varying stages of illness and disease. <br /><br /><i>To live abroad is to relinquish most claims of control over the lives of those we love. To live abroad is to grieve each goodbye. </i><div>
<br />When the phone rings, which is almost always unexpectedly, there is that fateful pause of knowing it must be bad news, because no one pays long distance fees in this age of Skype just to say hi. My mum and I used to comfort ourselves with how quickly I could get home in an emergency. But now? From Europe or China – 24-48 hours if I’m lucky…and I have seen times where it has been unlucky and where friends have scrambled and schemed and despite their best efforts arrived home much too late. <br /><br />When friends and family are grieving or in the midst of serious illness there is almost nothing that you can do. You cannot help in any tangible way. You cannot bring food or do laundry or watch children. You cannot even keep watch with them by day, because there is that pesky time difference. You can, of course, pray and send notes of encouragement and hope, but you know that no matter how much those are good things to do they do not really take away the grinding strain of trying to survive the present pain. No matter how much your heart yearns to be there, just to sit and be present, you cannot. <br /><br />It is isolating to grieve alone, or mostly alone. We’ve lost aunts & uncles while living away from home and there is a strange emptiness with no real closure. You can only grieve so much with family over the phone or via email. Chances are you can’t go to the funeral. No one around you will know whom you’re grieving and as sympathetic as friends are it’s not quite the same as spending those hours with the people who shared your love. <br /><br />This year as part of our liturgical exercises we started a Book of Remembrance. On nights when we can, we sit down and pick the name of someone who has died. We talk about the person, sharing stories and saying prayers, and I record the best of this in our book along with the person’s name and dates. This has been a beautiful way to keep memory alive and to bring the children into an understanding of the Communion of Saints and our belief that gone from this earth does not mean gone forever. While it has been difficult to focus so much on death this month, so long and dreary and so full of loss, it has been like a candle putting one small light into the darkness. <br /><i><br /></i><div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;</i></div>
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<i>Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;</i></div>
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<i>Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;</i></div>
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<i>In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.</i></div>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-43766824400756924492017-11-02T17:27:00.002+08:002017-11-02T17:27:55.542+08:00Kindergarten: 5 Weeks InThe children have been in Chinese Kindergarten for a month now. Schooling has, of course, been a hot topic under our roof, and really this should be no surprise. If my reading of literature and biography has taught me anything it’s that how, when, and where to school your children has been a subject of discussion and worrying for centuries. I find some comfort in adding my woes to the sum total of human experience.<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First day of school. It's 6am or something ridiculous like that. </td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The initial going was hardest on little Emily. She has had a hard year, having gone from having her daddy at home with her every day to having that same daddy working the long hours that come with Academic territory. And, since our flat is of modest size, it is generally best for all of us if most of those long hours take place at his office. It’s not far away but it’s not at home and for Annie that makes all the difference. To then find that she is no longer to be at home every day with the security of Mama and brother was a cold dose. But she has now made friends at school, English-speaking friends, and she occasionally has a recess with Walter, and she generally basks in a warm glow of knowing that her teachers find her smart and adorable and her friends find her kind and fun. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recess</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">September homework assignment: build a house</td></tr>
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With Walter it is harder to tell. He tends to be a bit of a loner by choice, preferring only the company of those who can come up with better games than his own or those who are willing to fall under his instruction. He tends to be frustrated with any interference in his plans and his main complaint is that the other children won’t leave him or his setups alone. He doesn’t mind going to school and he has been learning to write numbers, letters, and characters, but it is hard to say if he enjoys it or if he just does it as his duty, a box to tick off before he can go home and get back to the real business of infrastructure, engineering, and dinosaur battles. I do know that he heartily enjoys the sports days, for he is stronger and faster than most, if not all, of the kids in his class and he loves to run and to win. So while he may have his focus mostly on his own projects, rather than what his peers are doing, it seems that his natural athletic talent will help him from becoming too isolated as he tends to be in demand for sporty things. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Walter's at-school projects in the lead up to National Day/Golden Week</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5B6cpJ0zZHXBLFis7BusvRGeNOb6MxdxP11rkraQM6euYJLWV0MAUN2Y31O9Y5mVuJ24BhQqzDhTjVlLAjLDFPmUXZbqubDXxQWO1XvNXESmq7dXkmk4QzAkeXlmla7yJyIT7K3mOkKw/s1600/IMG_2952.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1594" data-original-width="1600" height="397" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5B6cpJ0zZHXBLFis7BusvRGeNOb6MxdxP11rkraQM6euYJLWV0MAUN2Y31O9Y5mVuJ24BhQqzDhTjVlLAjLDFPmUXZbqubDXxQWO1XvNXESmq7dXkmk4QzAkeXlmla7yJyIT7K3mOkKw/s400/IMG_2952.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">September homework assignment: make a traditional Chinese opera mask</td></tr>
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School is doing what we’d hoped – teaching the children practical skills like buttoning buttons and putting on socks, giving them a taste of independent interaction, and letting them have a safe space to learn how to listen to authority. Their little brains are soaking in Chinese, even if they don’t realize it, which was one of our goals in enrolling them at the Chinese Kindergarten rather than an international one. Our family interests of art, music, and literature are covered off in our usual way, by going on outings and talking with the children. In our spare time at home we are teaching them to read and write English, and by helping them with their little homework assignments I am learning a wee bit of Chinese. </div>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-49432215103403858192017-09-11T23:23:00.007+08:002017-09-11T23:24:34.123+08:00In which I learn to value running waterLet’s talk about clean water. I grew up on a half acre in a rural area so we had all this beautiful, sweet well water growing up. I can legitimately act all snobby about the chlorine taste of city water and, being from clean-water Canada I can also be all snobby about drinking bottled water. <br />
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In England I wasn’t a huge fan of water, because I do like my water ice cold and with our tiny fridge and the general lack of ice cubes it just wasn’t a thing that was that delicious outside of the office water cooler. But the water was fine to use, of course, and we had pretty much the same situation in Germany.<br />
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So now, Shanghai. One thing that guidebooks and the internet all agree on is that you can’t drink the water and even the locals don’t drink the water and you can’t just boil it safe. It’s not that Shanghai doesn’t clean its water, it’s just that by the time it travels through aging pipes it picks up various metals and things that can’t be boiled out and which, in some cases, are actually made worse by heating. <br />
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When we first moved here it was just one of those things. But then the summer heat hit and it hit hard. By the time the highs were hitting 42c we were easily going through 10 litres a day. It was becoming a struggle just to keep enough water in the house. I could either sign up for a water delivery service, look into having a water purifier installed (and the jury is out on how effective they are), or bring home 4-or-5 litre jugs. I opted for the last one but with the heat it was a real chore to ensure that there was always enough clean water every day and every night. It meant either a sore back from carrying too much or multiple trips out in the blistering heat. <br />
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This was enough to make me realize how much we really take for granted back home. Turn on a tap and you can have as much fresh water as you like! I mean, we know that people elsewhere in the world don’t have access to clean water, but we don’t really know what that means. I still don’t really know what it means, because the farthest I had to walk for clean drinking water was to the nearest convenience store, which was rather painful in the heat but still doable. <br />
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Recently, we’ve had some improvement works at our apartment building to update the water pipes, which has meant that the water to our building is sometimes turned off. Since we can’t drink the water I didn’t think it would be that inconvenient but I was wrong. No washing clothes or bodies or dishes or floors until the water is turned back on. It just makes the house feel so dirty. Of course this was just a minor inconvenience for the greater good and the workmen were awesome about timing it outside of peak usage hours, but for those few hours it was stressful.<br />
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Clean water, piped-in water, even undrinkable but usable water… it really is a most precious gift. LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-90567107079593151882017-09-02T23:32:00.002+08:002017-09-02T23:32:49.524+08:00Sunday Obligation Failings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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A few years ago a friend complimented me on how I managed to make Sunday Mass with my two-under-two a regular thing. “Oh yes,” I thought to myself, “I really do have that dedication to my faith”. Ha!<br /><br />When Mass was a 16 minute walk from the house it was easy to go, especially when it was our little family of four going and only one child was mobile.<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunday Morning Meltdown</td></tr>
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During those 7 long months when we were staying with family & resettling in Canada it was easy to go, because there was always a car or a ride at disposal and family to babysit the kids if they were too out of sorts to go.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note my tired, tired eyes </td></tr>
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Unfortunately the last three years have been a new reality of churches far away and hard to get to, of ill health and exhaustion, and of us being lucky if we make one Sunday a month as a family. *cue gasps of horror from my regularly attending Catholic friends* <br /><br />I keep telling myself that it shouldn’t be this way. When I was growing up I don’t think we ever missed a Sunday. Many of my friends have young kids and no vehicles and they still manage to go regularly. Of course, comparison is the thief of joy (my latest favourite truism). And, of course, every situation is unique. I had some health problems that were making it really difficult to get out & about and these didn’t even get sorted out until a year ago, at which point I discovered that it was the health issues and not some personal moral failing that were making it all so difficult. <br /><br />Now it is hard again. The 1.5hr trek across town to the nearest church. The never ending heat and the various ailments that Annie & I have contracted from it. The stress & exhaustion of settling into a new country, even tho’ I’ve done this so many times that I hardly notice it until I stop and think. I know that I need to be gentle with myself but this is something I have never been good at. <br /><br />I’m pretty sure that my root sin is pride. The last three years or so have been a great lesson in humility. I can no longer take comfort in moral superiority simply because my life has been too easy, because for a long time it has *not* been easy… but at the same time I always retain that fear of too many excuses. It’s like that sledgehammer of a truism “everyone is busy” that you can sometimes here in response to claims that your life has been busy so you’ve failed xyz. <br /><br />At this point in time I’m not sure what my plan is. Perhaps I have no plan. Life changes very quickly in Shanghai. We try to keep up with liturgical celebrations at home. We pray. We sing hymns. We make plans for Mass every week and more often than not, not going is determined en route when I discover that I’m just too unwell in the heat or from a questionable stomach etc. One day the heat will lessen and one day, perhaps, our stomachs will adjust to the food and then, oh yes, things will be easier. Until that day, I remember my Great Grandparents, living in Saskatchewan in the Thirties and happy to have a priest visit their township once a month. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Resting together in St Basil's Cemetary, Yorkton SK</td></tr>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-13792943492476436402017-08-18T22:14:00.000+08:002017-08-18T22:14:00.612+08:00Gypsy Rover came over the hill...Life is currently this crazy mix of deep thoughts and day to day living. Deep thoughts are what happen when you have all this time to listen to podcasts or read news articles but your husband works 10+ hours a day and your friends are in awkward time zones and your neighbours don’t speak English and your daily companions are two preschoolers and a cat. <br />
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Day to day living is what happens when you’ve been stationary long enough to feel the occasional, blissful twinge of boredom and the beautiful sameness of slipping into a routine. When we first moved here the routine kept changing because Shanghai is always changing. Now, however, we are familiar enough with our neighbourhood and the city that we can actually make plans. <br />
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Long, long ago when David and I first started dating we used to talk about The Future. He warned me back then that he wasn’t one for the white picket fence, but was more attracted to a gypsy rover sort of life. I felt the pieces of my future shifting a bit. What did I really want? <br />
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I grew up in a small town on Vancouver Island. The goal for most of my set was to Leave Town. Town only has a one-screen movie theatre. Shopping options were limited and cultural options felt limited, and then chance of one staying in town and marrying up seemed limited, and mostly, I think, so many of us need to use those late teenage years to spread our wings. My first year away from home was a time of great imagination & dreaming, which first allowed me to explore the ideas of how my future could look. <br />
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So, back to 2004 and the white picket fence. At this point in time we were both working in somewhat similar roles, namely at thrift stores. David’s was a non-profit and mine was a for-profit but there is a sort of thrift-store vibe among the young retail associates in Victoria. Many of us were modern hippies, or I guess better characterized as your general West Coast early millenials, living in cheap apartments and being sort of Bohemian and just having a good time the way one can with few bills, a decent amount of pocket money, and a city to explore. Dave and I used to take day trips, on foot, to the surrounding Gulf Islands and talk about the day we would backpack, or drive, around Canada, working here and there and seeing the country etc. <br />
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Grad School spurred us on the adventure but then as we got deeper into it and discovered that David had some sought after talent things had to shift yet again. It’s not every day that one gets a chance to move to England. And here we are in our early-to-mid-thirties and we’re doing the scholarly Bohemian gypsy rover thing, which is slightly more upscale than our original dreams, and involves hauling around a lot more books, but still involves rundown abodes and a strange mishmash of household possessions. A lot of our friends have this sort of settled adult style, whether they’re renting or owning, and I’m still thinking about whether or not I even want to bother buying curtains because will we bother packing them on our next international move. <br />
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After living this way for so long it’s hard to imagine living any other way. To be in the same place for more than three or four years? Shocking! The kids even take it as a matter of course that there will be a “next apartment” or a new country to explore. We had that brief, not brief enough, spell in Burnaby which was a really good view into what being settled with few choices would be like. Apparently I don’t mind big cities if they’re new but stick me in Toronto or Greater Vancouver and the misery just pours in. Living in a tiny apartment because the rents are too high is very different to living in a tiny apartment because you’re living abroad and you’d rather save on the rent to go and travel. I’m not saying that I never want to settle down but when we do, IF we do, I’m hoping that it will be on more comfortable terms.<br />
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(I say more comfortable terms but these are the material things I'm enjoying in our new place)</div>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-43372969352617991942017-05-21T22:27:00.000+08:002017-05-21T22:27:42.447+08:00Our First Shanghai Excursion: People's Square & The BundIt is easy to let the stress and work of a move become overwhelming, and once that happens it's hard to remember why on earth it made sense to throw life into disarray. In an international move this is perhaps more so, because everything is so much more stressful and different and homesickness is always waiting ‘round the corner. A good cure for this is to spend at least one day a week doing some fun exploration in the new locale.<br />
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As a veteran international mover™, David was well aware of this and made sure that our first weekend in Shanghai involved some relaxation and exploration time. He proposed that we go to People’s Square, followed by Nanjing Road and ending in a walk on The Bund. It was perfect!<br />
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<b><a href="https://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/shanghai/peoples-square.htm" target="_blank">People’s Square</a></b></div>
People’s Square is rather central to Shanghai and provides a good focal point for downtown Shanghai. The square is a really interesting mix of beautiful gardens, entertainment, food, and cultural practices. David planned our exit from the Metro perfectly, meaning that we came up from underground into the middle of a beautiful garden, with the phenomenal skyscrapers of the downtown towering in our peripheral vision:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4mZgDIsyfMmSZbdAaKpL8vkL4HPHbrohh7eG7DkD8xbGjagAny8Ddibs6T_Sh_iARHfrMXZESvp53gzOg7xtaZwwjS3Wr_eWtyNEA8bw781n2bmt01Zdcvf_HurkuK3jexfQ9VuW65w/s1600/IMG_2835.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM4mZgDIsyfMmSZbdAaKpL8vkL4HPHbrohh7eG7DkD8xbGjagAny8Ddibs6T_Sh_iARHfrMXZESvp53gzOg7xtaZwwjS3Wr_eWtyNEA8bw781n2bmt01Zdcvf_HurkuK3jexfQ9VuW65w/s400/IMG_2835.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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We wandered through the garden and then came across a little amusement park: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWpxsC-igJu0xvAZ98eBqET30KDprPHDXe9oOun35NuJ_UvCuqiwWhivzzNV74IiHlmycCnqCVOgsjgTvQc22-OLDFxRL9wqX74FKEHkEdzAU_vmUKAKEiLfZzy64EafiN5e-Othcf6Q/s1600/IMG_2829.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjWpxsC-igJu0xvAZ98eBqET30KDprPHDXe9oOun35NuJ_UvCuqiwWhivzzNV74IiHlmycCnqCVOgsjgTvQc22-OLDFxRL9wqX74FKEHkEdzAU_vmUKAKEiLfZzy64EafiN5e-Othcf6Q/s400/IMG_2829.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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From there we walked on to the <a href="http://www.chinahighlights.com/shanghai/article-shanghai-marriage-market.htm" target="_blank">Marriage Market</a> that is open for business on Saturday afternoons. I tried to get my mum to set up a stall for my brother but she didn’t think he’d appreciate the gesture. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5vkG7FArywNH0fM3iJFl_IWIHeGYGyZSAysyyrrgJ7xFwvYSC3iF03QOlcC_WiTdm72Ld9C6UUkAhId1nRXYiZikjO0m6WFh1NqkpN1n02eoxYniDRMy6IW0BDtp4eo5Q4kWbfwHIk0/s1600/IMG_2839.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5vkG7FArywNH0fM3iJFl_IWIHeGYGyZSAysyyrrgJ7xFwvYSC3iF03QOlcC_WiTdm72Ld9C6UUkAhId1nRXYiZikjO0m6WFh1NqkpN1n02eoxYniDRMy6IW0BDtp4eo5Q4kWbfwHIk0/s400/IMG_2839.JPG" width="265" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/shanghai/bund.htm" target="_blank">The Bund</a></b></div>
The end destination of our trip to People’s Square was the Bund, which is one of the “this is Shanghai” landscapes that you can use to identify the city <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XGcX5wopq3M&list=RDXn_OLnMriRg&index=4" target="_blank">in music videos</a> etc. It was lovely to stroll along the river with the historic buildings of the International Settlement on one side and the futuristic architecture of Pudong on the other. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5llKvY94i7qtTsCkEMTMDi2N3zhu6wKXhxApIsh_pTbSCFpTLAARoc2wd3BOlm75hyphenhyphenjYgTpLG_ExGfQh2ZMaQ3-vhbXh_yn5U5fqtY_sGCOzscliIFl59lJvxfn-Z7GyB5YBWxZflnWU/s1600/IMG_0499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5llKvY94i7qtTsCkEMTMDi2N3zhu6wKXhxApIsh_pTbSCFpTLAARoc2wd3BOlm75hyphenhyphenjYgTpLG_ExGfQh2ZMaQ3-vhbXh_yn5U5fqtY_sGCOzscliIFl59lJvxfn-Z7GyB5YBWxZflnWU/s400/IMG_0499.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pudong</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3j879GPJZZUnYc8Wxm1EeW6WKyc4mp95yOGCXrT_V9u7R9NJcU3mT9wmY5ZV8XV8pdVeH1V-maKPErf62V7qYhOkacBwzbJ1zTjmrkOfizuBteg1y3yJou03eupXS37HPPwmPgHSQEHY/s1600/IMG_2855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3j879GPJZZUnYc8Wxm1EeW6WKyc4mp95yOGCXrT_V9u7R9NJcU3mT9wmY5ZV8XV8pdVeH1V-maKPErf62V7qYhOkacBwzbJ1zTjmrkOfizuBteg1y3yJou03eupXS37HPPwmPgHSQEHY/s400/IMG_2855.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">International Settlement</td></tr>
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The funniest part of our day happened on the Bund. My mum wanted to rest her hip so she decided to sit down while the rest of us explored. When I came back to find her I was surprised to see her surrounded by a crowd of people. She was such a novelty with her blonde hair that there was a queue of people lined up to take selfies with her. I figured fair was fair so I started snapping pictures of them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPN6HtzDyZxYfVoxYUe7dN-CtMOLVy96LtaklkCviToz8GLW3TODou4w9oskHppYA7R9hLa3sNuYlFsDytmUoK5fgPl3Slpsl-UvjvMadGPFn7rtwu0-OE14DsPbUwkPgB30CguO3ig6g/s1600/IMG_2862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPN6HtzDyZxYfVoxYUe7dN-CtMOLVy96LtaklkCviToz8GLW3TODou4w9oskHppYA7R9hLa3sNuYlFsDytmUoK5fgPl3Slpsl-UvjvMadGPFn7rtwu0-OE14DsPbUwkPgB30CguO3ig6g/s400/IMG_2862.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="https://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/shanghai/nanjing_road.htm" target="_blank">Nanjing Road</a></b></div>
From People’s Square to the Bund is the Nanjing Road area. It’s a jumble of historic & futuristic architecture, luxury Western shops and Chinese malls, and is a marvelous exercise in people watching.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmVFYmJm1VOT2L0WEunB-lFtRXnvNUhVjIpa0k1MC6F-xV6Z-_7NWoNrGPTDX_2jwZ5M2voE52v1-u9VTSYGFJkZyWMgQkEcat3x-nM0xEtcHOS6PFYdfV0Bk49GVn5uVIlvEEQvUMyc/s1600/IMG_0485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmVFYmJm1VOT2L0WEunB-lFtRXnvNUhVjIpa0k1MC6F-xV6Z-_7NWoNrGPTDX_2jwZ5M2voE52v1-u9VTSYGFJkZyWMgQkEcat3x-nM0xEtcHOS6PFYdfV0Bk49GVn5uVIlvEEQvUMyc/s400/IMG_0485.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old-school apartments</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglXYteL-UFuPiiUO0SoEB6nb0aZTf6mioSZy4YauvUoiJEFpcFMaXNNxzT7wXGqxU8qcZDbHCS2ghCIb6MSK5VAcx_dRMHn8kPPnlrilDENF10X2GDqsrqqHNgOGse1wPOHe1D-Fxgj-4/s400/IMG_0506.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laundry drying on a street corner</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2vJ4lLD18X-OutwdpXPyjbXNR3Frn0AkVYwQOC2TtnrvKxPykuVglsrfRY0G8ftUVpDgF9dlrGjPzuSz3_y7gnIB_Mepfam-hRI7mnl90xf0LTYQXdRwPVEEZ3g_dxaCdUjWpWMOUTw/s1600/IMG_0509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2vJ4lLD18X-OutwdpXPyjbXNR3Frn0AkVYwQOC2TtnrvKxPykuVglsrfRY0G8ftUVpDgF9dlrGjPzuSz3_y7gnIB_Mepfam-hRI7mnl90xf0LTYQXdRwPVEEZ3g_dxaCdUjWpWMOUTw/s400/IMG_0509.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hydration break at a French-style cafe. The cups were so cute!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhey8lVZeOeT3TlcU68re00x2wR2AG2bM_GlppuPFE0ZkIFu-Bh8LKcUNENWMfYfI8xAhVFbVEmJzwfMig_rf0GH0PfZ4SKQtZjGhoQfP5ymsphavT3m-SLYOHJzfqSkXTEvHCj5HABxpg/s1600/IMG_2843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhey8lVZeOeT3TlcU68re00x2wR2AG2bM_GlppuPFE0ZkIFu-Bh8LKcUNENWMfYfI8xAhVFbVEmJzwfMig_rf0GH0PfZ4SKQtZjGhoQfP5ymsphavT3m-SLYOHJzfqSkXTEvHCj5HABxpg/s400/IMG_2843.JPG" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art Deco!!!!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6XxZ74GSTZ_Y49qgzvXu_fgoV8Xcf1A0GyagbvJgopsC9tjqdE8GEtMxcZy6HoxFBi6t1l9e0I2Rk1513IDnTuit6FJ4Zo2l06liV-seLsIp5rwj1AU8n5f8q_DfbfY9yfEC2JR6VW4/s1600/IMG_2886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU6XxZ74GSTZ_Y49qgzvXu_fgoV8Xcf1A0GyagbvJgopsC9tjqdE8GEtMxcZy6HoxFBi6t1l9e0I2Rk1513IDnTuit6FJ4Zo2l06liV-seLsIp5rwj1AU8n5f8q_DfbfY9yfEC2JR6VW4/s400/IMG_2886.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-45897465067701603922017-05-20T19:06:00.003+08:002017-05-20T19:06:16.565+08:00Clothing Dilemma? I hope not!<div class="MsoNormal">
I just placed my first online clothing order for stuff I can’t
get in China. Hopefully it goes smoothly, as my one big “oh no” about moving
here was how a family of North American Giants would be able to find clothing
in a country known for much more slender and shorter people. It’s a wee bit
disappointing, seeing all the fabulous clothing everywhere and knowing that no
matter how much weight I lose I’ll never be able to fit it because body type
& height are against me, but at least there’s always accessories to feed to
the instant-gratification need and online shopping for the rest!<o:p></o:p></div>
LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-39280079849886706892017-05-15T18:45:00.001+08:002017-05-15T18:45:43.132+08:00Mother's Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The internet has had its annual production of various Mother’s Day themed writings & discussions – reminders to be courteous to those who long to be mothers or whose children are not living, sorrowful reflections from those whose mothers have passed, debates about whether or not the moms of “furbabies” should be included in the celebrations, talk about gender and modern families, complaints about juggling expectations… you name it, you can find an article on it. </div>
<br />Since having kids of my own, my thought on Mother’s Day is that it should be a day for treating your mother like a queen. Think of all the discomforts she suffers on a daily basis trying to make her family comfortable and give her at least ONE DAY in which she can be completely spoiled. No cooking. No errands. No chores. No breaking up fights. No having to entertain anyone but herself. Basically no doing anything she doesn’t want to do. That would be ideal. And it doesn’t have to cost a thing unless you want it to, so you don’t even have to feel like you’re participating in a great Hallmark Card Conspiracy in celebrating the day (which is cool, because although I like presents I don’t like commercialism and boy-howdy was a seeing a lot of that when the internet suggestions for Mother’s Day in my neck of the woods all involved taking me out for very expensive meals). <br /><br />I won’t say that what I’ve described is a fantasy, but I do wonder how many of us find it a reality. I doubt my mum did. Mother’s Day is a Sunday, which meant church, but to keep her from having to cook breakfast my dad would always treat us to McDonald’s before the service. Mum likes McDonalds but she hates getting up early, so I’m not sure if this was a win-win solution. After the service would be the obligatory family dinner, which on the one hand was nice because she loves her family but on the other hand meant a so-so brunch at a local hotel because that’s where my Gramma liked to go etc (my dad, with none of his family in town, would of course get to go wherever he wanted for Father’s Day). My brother and I would give her whatever paltry offerings we’d managed to make or buy, and I’m sure that these were at least treasured for the love behind them even if the quality was sadly lacking. And, having heard so many times since birth how lucky my mum was to have us (after years struggling with subfertility) I’m sure we felt our presence to be gift enough. <br /><br />I wish I could say that having children and beginning to understand the supreme sacrifice of motherhood has made me a much more attentive daughter, but rather I’ve spent most of my adulthood living far away from home and struggling to get gifts/cards into the post on time (exacerbated by having my own children)… I can’t even give her the gift of having her grandchildren around on Mother’s Day, because we live halfway around the world. <br /><br />Ah yes, my own two children… this is my fourth Mother’s Day and while it gets a bit easier as they grow older I am still waiting to just be adored & cherished, perhaps worshiped, for the sacrifices I daily make to keep this family trudging along -- the early mornings, the half-eaten meals, the physical pain, the immense effort of patience, the nights spent anxiously worrying, the trying to get time to myself despite constant interruptions. My first mother’s day was relatively easy – we went for lunch after Mass and I think I took a nap. Walter slept. My second mother’s day involved having to drive to the airport to pick up David, who was returning from a trip overseas, and Walter had tantrums most of the day, and I was just plain exhausted. Ditto for the tantrums for Mother’s Day the Third. Last year was pretty good, although I think there were still a more than usual amount of unpleasant incidents involving moody children and I’m pretty sure I ended up an exhausted mess by the end of the day because I tried to cook myself a fancy dinner. This year we’re keeping things super simple, as 3/4s of the household are under the weather. The tantrums are mostly avoided by this. At around noon I realized that I should’ve just booked myself into a spa for a pedicure & a massage, but it seemed a bit late to be doing that, so I bought some street food and took myself window shopping. The children aren’t in preschool so there are no adorably awkward craft-gifts coming my way and, to be honest, I don’t even know if that’s a thing in China. But we did manage dinner out and I had a lot of r&r time today which is something I never thought would come my way. <br /><br />There are, of course, always sweet moments. The children will remember, on and off, that its Mother’s Day and they will give me their sweet expressions of love in between the regular murmurs of discontent. Eventually, although maybe not on the day itself, there will be presents of things I like and a card that they have laboriously worked on with some direction from David. It will probably take a couple of decades before they realize what parenting entails. It is in the difficulties of the day that I can look for the love and adoration that I wish would be more politely expressed. Each Mother’s Day when I am denied sleeping in because even if David got up they would just yell & carry-on for me until I came out is, in its way, an expression of their love. Every meltdown directed my way is rooted in their faith that I can solve all problems and heal all ills. And even my wish that for just one day the world could give me a break from my burdens and I could just exist, catered to and with no cares, is a reflection of all that I have been given to care for and cherish. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://fb-s-d-a.akamaihd.net/h-ak-fbx/v/t1.0-9/18423818_10154544953951299_3458345299560725219_n.jpg?oh=4c2235afa0194c91877a149c291d7df6&oe=59C26473&__gda__=1501376685_8912ea518d568dfcca18d4bf3931ef64" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://fb-s-d-a.akamaihd.net/h-ak-fbx/v/t1.0-9/18423818_10154544953951299_3458345299560725219_n.jpg?oh=4c2235afa0194c91877a149c291d7df6&oe=59C26473&__gda__=1501376685_8912ea518d568dfcca18d4bf3931ef64" width="480" /></a></div>
<br /> <br /><br /> LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-49685334367091297022017-04-30T14:43:00.000+08:002017-04-30T14:43:09.627+08:00An Average Day <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We’ve passed the four week mark on our China adventure. Moving here makes the move to England look no more daunting than moving from one city to another. Unless you’ve traveled to a non-Latin-based country before I don’t think there’s any real way to grasp the complete and total language barrier and what that means. The people in our neighbourhood have been more than gracious at our fumbled attempts with Mandarin but there’s still a real “lost at sea” feeling to most of my days.</div>
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My mum, by the way, is amazing. She flew over here with me & the kids, to help us on the plane and to help us settle in. I don’t think she realized what she was in for but she made the best of everything. We did a lot of mundane, house-setting-up things during her trip and we also did some fun touristy things. I’ll write about those eventually but right now I want to capture the general feel of my days. I’m sure things will change again once I have things like a fridge or a usable kitchen (technically I can use it but in reality it’s still sporting too many creepy crawlies and without a fridge I can’t do much cooking anyway, so…). </div>
<br /><b>Morning</b><br />David’s campus happens to be across the street from our apartment (one huge benefit of having the university find our housing). His office is about a half-hour walk from our home, and it’s a nice walk. It takes about 5 minutes to get out of our apartment compound, then 10 minutes to get to the university entrance, and a remaining 15 to get to his office. Did I mention that the campus is huge? He’s about ¼ of the way into campus. And, as an aside, his office is lovely. It’s a work-space shared with 7 other researchers, which means the days aren’t lonely & isolated, and one whole wall is windows with a beautiful view of trees. And it has air conditioning. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/17992197_10154491498531299_7411546007406354774_n.jpg?oh=4a1d0c3b082c1dfe1536f7dbb2001174&oe=597D6F99" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://scontent.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/17992197_10154491498531299_7411546007406354774_n.jpg?oh=4a1d0c3b082c1dfe1536f7dbb2001174&oe=597D6F99" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I walk by this most mornings. It's a great start to the day.</td></tr>
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Because we live so close to the university, and because our kitchen is not cooking-friendly at the moment, and because the food on campus is generally as inexpensive as if I cooked it myself (or perhaps more so!) the kids & I walk David to work most mornings and have breakfast with him on campus. We also have the option of buying food from a lady who sells it near the gate of our compound, which is great on mornings when we don’t want a walk to start the day. We breakfast Chinese style, so on various forms of steamed starchy things with a bit of protein and, in my case, what I can only classify as “black bean milk” since there’s no English on the package. It’s delicious although the rest of my family thinks I’m bizarre for this choice. <br /><br /><b>Work Day</b>David does his work and the kids & I do ours, which at the moment is the running of the household, and trust me, it takes a considerable amount of running right now. We don’t have a washer yet and from what The Internet can tell me, Laundromats are few & far between here and with the language barrier I can’t figure out how to ask the right questions at the numerous laundry-dry-cleaners in my neighbourhood, so right now we have to travel 1hr each way to the nearest Laundromat. This is usually a once a week trip, but with the backlog of clothing (it took me nearly three weeks just for this option) it’s a little more frequent. <br /><br />When not doing laundry I’m cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning. Our apartment has several luxuries, like a bathtub, hot water in the kitchen and bathroom, and a Western toilet (although I think that’s normal for housing here anyway) but clean it was not. It’s mostly been dust served with a side of cockroaches. We’re in a subtropical climate and bugs are to be expected but I don’t fancy sharing my living space with creepy crawlies so I’ve launched a campaign of deep-cleaning, poison, and hole-sealing. It takes a long time but the results are pleasing. People who have lived here longer suggest that I just hire someone to clean it for me, but I suppose the cleaning is my form of “nesting” and it feels nice to be laying claim to a new space (above ground! with affordable rent! and lots of natural light!).<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://scontent.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/18198465_10154505588531299_264902271390643768_n.jpg?oh=6569cd7c10605b9ab7c59a42c9ac0337&oe=598EBDB6" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://scontent.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/18198465_10154505588531299_264902271390643768_n.jpg?oh=6569cd7c10605b9ab7c59a42c9ac0337&oe=598EBDB6" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of scrubbing but now a perfect breakfast nook. </td></tr>
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There are, of course, all the other mundane tasks that fill up the day, like getting groceries or dealing with paperwork, but laundry & cleaning tend to top the list. We also try to do sightseeing at least one day a week, and now that I’m feeling more settled and know how to get around we’ll be getting back into the swing of following the liturgical calendar more closely. <br /><br /><b>Evening</b><br />We meet David for dinner on campus. This is one of those weird moments of culture shock where the foods you think you recognize taste nothing like what you’re expecting. This was really rough the first couple of weeks where all I wanted at the end of a long day was to know what I was going to be eating. However, now that I’m recognizing different dishes it’s getting a lot easier. I’ve got some definite favourites, like the Sichuan pork bowls, black fungus, or Grandmother’s Pork (it’s a pork belly & egg dish in a sweetish bbq like sauce) and some definite no-thank-yous (here’s looking at you, fish or most chicken stews – I just can’t cope with all the bones). Walter’s found a chef who makes Chinese crepes to order, so that’s his dinner regular, and Annie usually orders a giant bowl of dumplings. There are hundreds of food options on campus so it’s just been a process of finding what best suits our tastes and going with that. As everyone always says, the food in China is *not* the Chinese food you’re used to, and this definitely rings true even for those who, like me, tried to branch out to more authentic places before moving over here. But, as everyone who’s been to Shanghai also says, the food scene here is awesome. <br /><br />After dinner we take a leisurely walk home and wind down, just like we did in Canada, only I get more down time here because I can actually do stuff other than spend most of my waking hours in some form of work. That’s a major win. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cafe on campus, where we often go for a little sweet & hot drink after dinner. </td></tr>
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So yes, Shanghai life is a definite win and I’m so grateful that we were able to take this opportunity. </div>
LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-13659451409920942112017-04-20T21:43:00.000+08:002017-04-20T21:50:59.061+08:00First ImpressionsPosted now that I have internet<br />
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We’ve been in China for 3.5 days as I write this. It’s been intense and I’ve had moments where I wonder if we’re crazy, but overall the excitement of being in a new country is infectious. <br />
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Flying here was so easy that it must have been a miracle. The kids were so good on the plane that my scolding of them was only for the regular things, not for anything major. They played, slept, watched shows, and generally enjoyed the experience of flying. As for me, I found that the 11.5 hours passed much more quickly than I thought it would.<br />
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Getting off the airplane was intense. The gate area had a lingering smell of food, it was stuffy, and it was just familiar enough to other airports to be really disconcerting in its differences. But after we’d all had some water and a chance to refresh it was no big deal to make our way through immigration and customs and baggage claim and to the taxi. And then it was off for the real adventure!<br />
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We live in Minhang, just across the street from Jiao Tong University. I really like what I’ve seen of the area. In many ways it’s like any other large urban area – traffic, shops, busy intersections, and complicated traffic patterns. Sometimes it reminds me of Berlin and sometimes it reminds me of Richmond. The river areas remind me of Cambridge, lined as they are with willows and the reinforced banks that still seem foreign to me as a Canadian. There is a lot of green space where we are, so much well-designed green space. There are pockets of trees and little gardens everywhere and they all have a cultivated, cared-for beauty. It is not nearly as crowded as I’d feared. Yes, there are people everywhere, but it’s never been anything like London or even Cambridge during the busy times. This might be because we don’t live in city centre, so I’ll have to report back. Also, the streets are well cared for and don’t seem any dirtier than other cities. Whenever we go out in the morning there are crews of street cleaners vigorously sweeping away leaves with their brush-brooms.LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-28914848437521588642017-03-23T04:34:00.000+08:002017-03-23T04:34:57.342+08:00Just a matter of days...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Our visa applications have finally been approved for submission! Hurray! I didn’t realise just how stressed I was until I got the phone call saying that all the applications had been approved. We’re going to Vancouver tomorrow to pick up our visas. I must say that I’ve been impressed with the number of things that Consulate has in place to help with application hiccups. For one thing, although your application may get sent back a few times for additional information there is no fee to pay for these rejections and I never was left with the impression that things wouldn’t work out. Other countries want the fee upfront, before you learn if you’re accepted or denied. As well, the office is set up with a photocopier and printer, so that if the documents you need are readily available you can actually procure them without leaving the Consulate. This came in quite useful to us on Monday past. </div>
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Now comes the part that, in years past, was the most stressful – the packing of the suitcases. This time I am not freaking out, or at least not freaking out most of the time. I think it helps that the luggage allowance for Asia isn’t as horribly restricted as for the rest of the world. 2 suitcases per person feels like a luxury now that most international destinations only allow 1. And when two of those people are basically the size of one large suitcase, there is perhaps a little more space available for packing than one those suitcases all belong to one adult! It also helps, of course, that I’ve done this move & setup thing so many times in the past. It’s not that I don’t think there will be stressful times, it’s just that I’ve learned not to bother anticipating that stress this time around. <br />
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This morning I woke up to the sound of the rain running through the pine trees outside my window. The sky is a luminous white which suggests that the rain will stay. The children & I have been snatching outdoor time here & there, whenever we can, and it’s not often because the rain will not stop. It is easier to embrace the dreary weather because I know there are not many days left of waking up in a 100 year old logging-shanty-turned-cottage in the middle of a coastal rainforest. Soon I’ll be waking up to…I don’t know what. I know that our place has a lot of opportunities for cleaning & tlc, but that’s ok. For the first time in three years I’m looking forward to having the time & energy to creatively turn our home into something cozy. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? Cozy</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When it's not raining</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And sometimes even when it is</td></tr>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-76083965847765194352017-03-13T14:39:00.000+08:002017-03-13T14:39:04.114+08:00Waiting to MoveI mentioned that the kids & I were waiting for some paperwork to come through before we could join David in China. As difficult as it is to be without him, there have been a few benefits to this (for us, probably not for him!):<br /><br /><ol>
<li>Settling in to life in a new country is always challenging, and I don’t just mean the learning to do things in a new place. Expat life has this really glamorous image thanks to those Expats who work for big multinational corporations that give them incentive packages to live overseas. This is certainly not the reality for many of us, so travel to a new country usually involves trying to squeeze all one’s worldly goods into 1 or 2 suitcases and then doing a fair bit of roughing it until one has a chance to set up home. I really hate that David is going through this set-up experience without us, but I’m glad for the sake of the children that things will be a little more settled when we do arrive. </li>
<li>Having time to ease into back into stay-at-home-mum life is amazing. I keep having to remind myself that it’s OK to take as much time as I want to play games with the children – I’m used to having to squeeze all of our fun into a few hours balanced with housework. I know a big part of this is due to being at my parents, since my mum is taking care of most of the meals and if I have any urgent business to attend to I can easily shut the door and get it done, but it’s certainly helping me feel more relaxed and that’s leading to an easier transition with the kids. I’m not sure how things will change once we’re settled but I think there will be a nice change of pace with David coming home from his office every day to give me some downtime. Walter is also supposed to start school in September so I’m trying to enjoy every last moment with my big boy preschooler right now. </li>
<li>Being able to have all this quality time with my parents is great. It’s the first time since the kids were born that my visits will them haven’t had an undercurrent of change & stress. I mean, maybe this sounds crazy since I’m in the middle of moving overseas, and certainly I have my moments of feeling incredibly stressed, but there’s also lots of time to just kick back and enjoy life. The kids are running around the house & playing with my childhood toys, mum & I spend our days doing spring cleaning and planning yummy things to make, we go for walks in town, there’s lots of opportunity to visit my Gramma, and mostly we’re just enjoying each other’s company on this extended quasi holiday.</li>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sleepy Annie is happy she can indulge in green apples & peanut-butter </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">building before breakfast</td></tr>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-88089224880384351612017-03-10T14:14:00.000+08:002017-03-10T14:14:15.357+08:00Our Next Big MoveI’m back again, perhaps not so briefly. This time the silence was intentional, as there were things in the works that couldn’t be spoken about in public until everything was in place, and that time is now – The Porters Lodge is moving to China! <br /><br />Greater Vancouver was not a great fit for our family. Yes, there were positives. I loved living so close to the mountains and the sea, my job was amazing, and I got to see my brother a lot. But there were also a lot of negatives. The high cost of living meant a constant tension between work and childcare, without much time left over for us to enjoy our family life together. We were much closer to home than when we lived in England, but it was still really difficult to see family because traveling around Canada without a car is difficult due to the immense distance between places and the relatively small population doesn’t call for better public transit infrastructure. And, raising two little kids and having work eat up most of our spare hours meant it was very difficult to meet new people or even see our existing friends. As we talked about the years to come, it seemed pretty clear that we weren’t getting the work/life balance we wanted and the current situation needed to change. <br /><br />One day, a little before Christmas in 2015, David asked me how I felt about moving to China. And I found myself giving a very positive “yes, sure, new adventure” as a response, and he told me that he’d been approached regarding a Post Doctoral research position at one of China’s top universities. I gave him my blessing to start the process and we broke the news to our families. <br /><br />Fast forward over a year later and here we are, or at least there we are going… David has already arrived and the children and I hope to join him in the next few weeks. We just need to wait for David’s residency number to come through. Until we move the kids & I are staying at my parents, soaking up as much of the Island as we can before our next adventure. <div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">morning snow -- shot over the front deck</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">morning snow in the back garden</td></tr>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-14257842898675211622017-01-07T14:16:00.000+08:002017-01-07T14:16:18.526+08:002016 in Review: The Year of GriefPoor neglected blog! I lasted posted in May, saying it had been a hard year, and although we have had some very good things happen, overall it remained a year of mourning. Death, or the cold promise of it, seemed to touch so many of those we love:<br /><b><br /></b><div>
<b>Baby Matthew:</b> Christmas 2015 I met up with my best friend and celebrated that she was pregnant with her second child. Then, several weeks later, we learned that her son was unlikely to survive past birth. We live on opposite sides of this vast country, so I spent a lot of time praying, crying, and pouring my prayers & hope & grief into the below since I couldn’t provide any of the more hands-on comforts that I’m more comfortable with:</div>
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<br /><b>Uncle Roy:</b> At the end of January my mum told me that my uncle had just been diagnosed with cancer. <a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/princegeorgecitizen/obituary.aspx?pid=177683275" target="_blank">Two weeks later he had passed away</a>. <br /><br /><b>Auntie Ushie:</b> <a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/theprovince/obituary.aspx?pid=179966146" target="_blank">In May I lost my beautiful Grandaunt Ushie</a>. She is one of those family members who appear in my earliest memories and saying goodbye was like saying goodbye to part of my childhood and the security that comes with that network of extended family.<br /><br /><b>Aunt Diamonds:</b> David’s Grandaunt passed away and that certainly made an impression. I had never met her, but she often was mentioned in family stories and we miss having the updates about her latest doings via the family grapevine.<br /><br /><b>Auntie Robin:</b> Alzheimer’s continues its destruction of my sweet aunt’s body & mind. These days I almost never have an opportunity to see her, so reality as it comes in the form of pictures or updates from other family is always a sad shock. Every time I sing I think about the gift she gave me in training my voice. I am thankful for the years I got to know her as an adult, because we share so many similar interests in books & music, but at the same time I grieve for the slow loss of that relationship.<br /><br /><b>Gramma:</b> Dementia and “old age” continue their work on my darling Gramma. Sometimes when I see her she is as funny & charming as she was a few years ago, but other times it is clear that she doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Mostly I hate how staged and forced-cheerful it feels visiting her in the care-home. We troop in, usually with donuts, and try to visit, but the visits are never very long and it just doesn’t have the same feel as it did when we’d visit her at home. Also, her home sold this year and it was sad seeing that piece of history (my Grandfather built it up into the structure it is today) leave the family even if that was the practical choice. <br /><br /><b>Baby Hannah: </b>Shortly before Christmas we received urgent prayer requests for the newborn daughter of friends of ours, as she was being rushed to the NICU with serious problems. Although she is now back at home with her family, it seems that the long term diagnosis is probably not good (ie a degenerative problem) and so we continue to pray and to hope for a miracle. <br /><br />This is hardly everyone, just the ones that I feel that I can maybe share with the world. It seemed to be a punch of fresh grief each month the past year. Yet, as I said, the year was not without its bright spots, especially on the home front. For the first time since we moved back to Canada I felt a bit of stability and routine in our home life and that is a great blessing. With all that was going on this year I felt it was time to really take care of my mental health and the short of it is that I’m feeling much better than I have in a very long time, perhaps in my whole life. <br /><br />Now that the kids are both 3+ I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We can actually just hang out together, relaxing and having fun, or I can get things done around the house, and basically we are just able to enjoy being together as people rather than just as caregiver & infant dictator. It’s lovely! And it looks like after 2 years of half-assed trying Walter completed his potty training saga all on his own, so that’s been a nice change (it’s been mostly a week!). Plus we put Walter in speech therapy and that did an amazing job with both his clarity and his confidence. Meanwhile, Annie has taught me some strong lessons about learning to accept love, and those have been invaluable. The day I stopped hesitating and finally called her “my besty friend” in return to her usual clamourings brought a huge change in both of us and it’s absolutely delightful to have a mini-me following me everywhere and doing girl-stuff with me. <br /><br />One day I may cover off the doings of the year, tho’ Instagram has done a much better job of capturing our Liturgical lifestyle and various doings. Mostly, 2016 was a year of cozy domestic doings woven in amongst loss & the inevitable growing up that accompanies it. </div>
LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-22317325120542665162016-05-28T09:15:00.001+08:002016-05-28T09:15:10.991+08:00Breaking the Silence<div class="MsoNormal">
I just finished reading Volume 1 of L.M. Montgomery’s
personal journals. She wrote in journals up until her death and volume 1, which
covers 1889 – 1910 has been a delightful trip into the thoughts and actions of
one of my favourite authors. (As an aside, I have always loved that Montgomery,
Alcott & I share the first two initials).</div>
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I often find myself dissatisfied when reading biographies of
my favourite celebrities. Their lives are, I suppose, too human, and contain
that level of sorrow or poor morals or what-have-you. It always leaves me
feeling a bit let down, to see the flaws in the lives of those I admire, or at
least whose art I admire (for often after finishing a biography I no longer
admire the person). Reading Montgomery’s journals, however, has had the
opposite effect. She had horrible struggles with depression but somehow hearing
it in her own words, walking that path with her rather than having it throw at
me by a biographer, has made quite a difference and only increased my
admiration for her, rather than leaving me with the let down feeling that
someone who brought so much joy to the world through her writings could suffer
so terribly (need I say I was *not* a fan of the biography I read of her?). It
also gave me a good insight to the intensity of “Emily’s Quest”. </div>
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Reading her journals at this point in time has been like
finding a kindred spirit, particularly when I saw the infrequency of her
writing as she took on more adult responsibilities into her thirties. They’ve
been a good kick in the pants to get back onto blogging, and journaling, for
even my favourite author wrote infrequently but steadily! </div>
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In usual form I’m
sure I’ll go back in the following months and finish writing up all the things
I’ve missed. I’ve also got a ten-mile-long list of embroidery projects, a giant
backlog of gifts for babies and weddings and what-have-you. To all my friends
who read this – I’M SORRY! But I keep trusting that a personalised gift is
worth the wait, even if your babies are toddlers by the time I’m done. </div>
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In regards to the every day... I absolutely love my job and
I’m so thankful I took a risk last March and applied for it. I’m constantly
being challenged, which is an environment I thrive in, and I find the work
really engaging. David’s been working very steadily on projects all year which means
we’re living in a crazy cycle where one of us is always working while the other
one is watching the kids/running the house, which is incredibly exhausting, but
I am so proud of the work he’s doing. It always takes so long from when he
finishes a project to when it gets published but in fun news a book he wrote a
chapter for last year has finally come out in print and our copy should be
arriving shortly. </div>
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On a larger scale, however, 2016 has been a sad year for us.
This is, I think, one of the reasons I’ve not been writing as much. Since
January we’ve either had family members pass away OR had close friends/family
undergo personal tragedies and loss ever month and this has been emotionally
exhausting. <b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-65819974678305573582016-01-04T14:28:00.000+08:002016-01-04T14:28:57.831+08:00Fourth Sunday of Advent: Home for the Holidays The Fourth Sunday of Advent, that wonderful point in time where we're deeply into Christmas/Not Yet Christmas territory. As a kid this was always my favourite Sunday of Advent -- Christmas was *so close*, less than a week away, and school was out and I was home and everything was just geared towards the fun of the holidays.<br />
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I usually like to decorate the tree on Gaudete Sunday, but this year that certainly wasn't happening. So we moved it to a weekday, planned an easy dinner, and then let loose with the Christmas decorating! It was so much fun! We don't have much space and with David working from home it's too much for him to try to keep an eye on the kids AND write AND ensure that the Christmas tree doesn't tip over so I opted for a tiny tree this year. I think it was 1.5' tall. But, as we were away for half of Christmas, it didn't make sense to stress ourselves out with a tree that we wouldn't be around to enjoy. And one year if, God willing, we have more space our little Charlie Brown tree can be upgraded to a centerpiece or mantel decoration. Plus the kids didn't care and enjoyed being able to hang ornaments on a tree they could actually reach the top of.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bobble Head Shakespeare approves. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend's brother made the sign. All proceeds from the sale of his holiday signs were donated to help a family with the adoption of a child from a European orphanage. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I put up the window clings after the kids went to bed. They were so surprised and happy when they woke up!</td></tr>
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This year we had the opportunity to head to Victoria for David's birthday & Christmas (they fall in the same week). Our whole week preceding this Sunday was one of major preparation, because traveling with young children never seems to be easy no matter what. This time around was one of our best travel experiences with them and still felt like running a marathon (my FitBit tells me that I hit 5000 steps by 1pm which is pretty impressive when you consider that it all came from packing/readying the house to leave). We managed to get all the dishes washed and lots of other little cleaning tasks done before leaving. I give myself immense credit for this because I said we should leave on Saturday instead of Friday which meant we could have a much more leisurely (haha) time of getting out the door.<br />
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We almost had an emergency when my brother's roommate forgot to leave the keys to the car that was supposed to take us to the ferry. Fortunately my cousin Tara stepped up in a major way and lent us her [super amazing awesome family friendly] van. I was so happy because it is my favourite vehicle (seriously so easy to get the kids in and out and holds loads of luggage) and it saved on a lot of stress and toddler fights on the way to the ferry.<br />
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We also had another almost emergency because PHYSICS and I are doomed to be enemies. In the haste of packing up the bottom drawer of our bathroom cabinet did not shut all the way, and one of the kids helpfully slammed the bathroom door shut which caused the drawer to slide out all the way (I think?) which, in our tiny bathroom, meant that the door was completely blocked by the drawer and couldn't be opened. Thankfully, armed with a butter knife and ten million prayers, I managed to slide the drawer back into place after several frantic minutes and we were all good, although my nerves didn't recover until much later!<br />
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Emergencies aside, I feel that this is the first trip we've taken as a family, to the Island, where I can look at David and say "we've got this. We're adulting". We have a system down for the ferry -- a spot where we like to sit and where the kids are easy to manage, a plan for how best to feed the family while traveling and trying to not buy too much food on the ferry, and a method for keeping the kids entertained and relatively quiet. It's a flexible plan, depending on the time of day we're traveling, the weather, and the length of the boat ride, but the main pieces are relatively consistent. Arrive early. Secure a spot with ample room so that Walter doesn't feel crowded. If leaving from home, pack some tasty food (like a bbq chicken, baguette, and fruit) buy drinks from the grocery store in advance, but plan to pick up a few supplements (like cheese, yogurt, and ice/water) from the ferry cafeteria because taking a kid through the lineup is a great way to kill 20+ minutes and keep the children separate and occupied. Do separate bathroom trips with the kids because that usually kills 30+ minutes and they need to stretch their legs. Find little chores for them to do, liking carrying trash to the trash can, because it helps them feel like part of the experience (and... kills time!). Colouring is great and we learned on this trip that crayon easily wipes off of the ferry walls (because baby wipes are AWESOME for removing crayon).<br />
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Traveling on a Saturday, and arriving in the afternoon, meant that I could have a leisurely time unpacking in Victoria. David's parents are very generous hosts and his mum always has the room done up to perfection for our arrival. We were given "the suite" to stay in on this trip, which gave us plenty of space and privacy (so useful for toddlers and their nap/bedtime schedules). I had the time to get us organised and settled in which goes a long way to helping the kids settle in to strange beds and different sleeping arrangements.<br />
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Our Fourth Sunday of Advent was lovely. We were back at Mass after a two week absence. That alone was so nice. We were able to go to Mass with extended family, something which rarely happens, and that also was nice. And we know enough people at Star of the Sea that going there is like a mini reunion. After our giant parish in Vancouver, where it seems like no one notices when we're coming or going, it's nice to feel like part of a community again. Star of the Sea also has an awesome choir, which makes me happy, and it just happens to be a military parish on the naval base, which makes my boat-loving-pirate-obsessed little son very happy. He dubbed it "Pirate Mass" and was quite eager to go.<br />
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We never got to the Advent wreath and we never said our Advent prayers but the kids were so happy to be with their Grandparents that I don't think they noticed.<br />
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<br />LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-2627926218501437952015-12-16T15:33:00.000+08:002015-12-16T15:33:04.013+08:00Third Sunday of Advent (in which I seem to suck at all the things)By the end of the Third Sunday of Advent we were totally failing at Mass-going this season. It is not quite as bad as last winter, I think, but between the downpours (and no car!), the growth-spurt tantrums (I'm guessing it's a thing?), and the never-ending lack of sleep it seems that we're meeting an epic fail despite the number of Mass times available to us in this metropolis. So that's a disappointment but it's also life with two toddlers.<br />
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As for the novena, totally sucking at that also. But in good news, I've managed to get the Advent candles lit on Sunday each week so that's quite an improvement over previous years. Small steps, my friends, small steps.<br />
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All that said, last Tuesday (December 8th) was the <a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07674d.htm" target="_blank">Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception</a> (Holy Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to Thee). In most places it's a Holy Day of Obligation for Catholics, meaning that they're supposed to treat it as importantly as a Sunday and get to Mass. In Canada things are very lax so there's no obligation. But I try not to let that stop me, especially now that I've discovered a 7:15 Mass at the Cathedral downtown. I can get there and back to my work shuttle on one bus ticket and it doesn't even make me late for work. So off I went to enjoy a peaceful and quiet Mass. Of course nothing seems to come easy lately so my fancy new umbrella with its auto-open-auto-close feature broke and wouldn't close, no matter how much button pushing, force, or cursing was directed to it. And it was downpouring. To say I was in a bit of a fluster would be putting it mildly. But it didn't matter, because there was something soul-deeply-calming about being in a candle-dim church, listening to the sounds of the rain and the voices praying, feeling like I was being held close in Mary's heart. It's totally worth the 6am wakeup time to go. <br />
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In order to try and give a nod to the feast day at home, I went for a white-themed meal (to symbolize purity). We had a thai chicken-coconut soup, garlic bread, and lemon snow bars. It was a lot of fun.<br />
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I spent the rest of the week trying to gear up in order to survive the weekend. Walter has his Ukrainian dance class every Saturday at 9:30am in downtown Vancouver, which means that we leave the house at 8:30am, which means that IF no children wake up early I get to sleep in by about 10 minutes compared to my normal wake-up time. And this week was even more hectic, because I was taking Annie along with us AND it was dress rehearsal day AND all the adults were corralled to help set up the hall for Sunday's recital. But I survived and thanks to the magic of crayons the children behaved during the setup and Annie even made friends with a baby at the class.<br />
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Later that afternoon my brother came over to help make Christmas shortbread. He is much less edgy with the kids than I am when it comes to making stuff so it's always nice to have him around for kid participation time. It ended up being a tonne of fun! We made our batch of cookies, got them all suitably decorated, and I don't think that I yelled once. It probably helped that John brought a case of cola with him because man oh man was I running on sugary caffeine all weekend.<br />
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Then came Sunday. Not just any Sunday, but <a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/06394b.htm" target="_blank">Gaudete Sunday</a>. Gaudete is Latin for "rejoice!" and it's the day that we light the pink advent candle and the day in my house that we start hitting the Christmas festivities with the same hardcore zeal as the rest of our culture. Usually it's the day I put up the tree and really start indulging in my favourite Christmas albums. As a nod to all things seasonally liturgical, Annie & I wear pink and we all try to get in a very joyful mood. This year? Mostly epic fail.<br />
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The toddlers would! not! stop! screaming! So we changed our plans of going to a morning Mass at the Cathedral and opted to stay at home until Dance Recital time and then go to one of the three evening Masses we could easily do on our way home. And then a certain Sir threw an hour-long fit when his cruel parents tried to dress him before leaving the house. And then the sprinkling of rain turned into a downpour that ended as soon as we reached the stage in our journey that no longer required being exposed to the rain. And my poor sick husband got soaked to the bone, and is subsequently much sicker now, and the toddlers would! not! stop! screaming!<br />
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We did make it through the Dance Recital with a minimum of upset. I count it as a success that I got Walter into his costume, sans hat (he was supposed to be a magical mushroom from Baba Yaga's forest), because he was mostly adamant that he'd wear it "tomorrow". The recital itself was great fun, because Ukrainians are AWESOME. From the minute the music started the hall was full of stamping feet and clapping hands and good, positive energy. After the recital there was a sa potluck, carol singing, and a visit from Grandfather Frost (who had a present for each child).<br />
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The journey home was less successful, as the crying ramped up again (thank you, Baby Annie) and we ended up missing Mass again because of the screaming and crying and general inability of Certain Small Humans to cope with social situations. The children mostly misbehaved until bedtime, the Advent candle didn't get lit until well after they were tucked away, I didn't find the third Sunday of Advent prayer, and it was not the joyful Sunday I'd been hoping for. So I ranted and raved and added to the general misery of the household. And then I ordered Chinese food and put my feet up and remembered that tomorrow is another day.<br />
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<br />LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-9480588760126111652015-12-07T15:13:00.005+08:002015-12-07T15:13:49.658+08:00Second Sunday of AdventIt’s the second Sunday of Advent and I’m working hard at trying to fight the Christmas rush, while realising that I’m not just imagining the pressure. Somehow we’ve ended up with an incredibly busy two weeks, after which point we’ll be leaving Vancouver (yay!) to head to the Island and David’s parents for Christmas. Do you have any idea how happy I am that I don’t have to work this Christmas? Do you know how hard it is to work on Christmas when it is not only one of the biggest holidays of the year but also one of the holiest days of the year for your religion? It was a double whammy of suckitude. Don’t get me wrong – the work that I do is important and I felt some solidarity with other professionals who provide “essential services” and have to work on the holidays because evils in this world don’t recognise holidays, but it was hard.<br />
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I digress. <br />
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The first thing on my radar for this past week was something that I hope will become a new and awesome <b>Porter Family Advent Tradition</b>. November 30th was the <a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/01471a.htm" target="_blank">Feast of St Andrew</a> and there is a beautiful Christmas novena attached to his feast day. Technically a novena is a 9 days prayer, whereas this Christmas Novena is supposed to be said 15 times a day between now and Christmas, but it’s a relatively simple way to change our daily prayers to reflect the season. In the Perfect World we would be rocking this Novena. In actual fact, I don’t have it memorised which makes it a lot harder to say 15 times a day. Work’s been crazy busy as the holiday season is the busiest time of year so even my plans of saying the prayer at my desk have been scuppered because I’m running around so much. But I’m saying it at least once a day, most of the time with the children, and that’s a good start. It really is a beautiful prayer:<br />
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<i>Hail and blessed be the hour and moment in which the Son of God was born of the most pure Virgin Mary, at midnight, in Bethlehem, in piercing cold. In that hour, vouchsafe, O my God! to hear my prayer and grant my desires, through the merits of Our Saviour Jesus Christ, and of His Blessed Mother. Amen.</i></div>
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The next thing on my radar is the <a href="http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/11063b.htm" target="_blank">Feast of St Nikolas</a>. St Nikolas, better known as Santa Claus, is a pretty hardcore 4th century saint who happens to be the patron saint of children and who, in popular traditions around the world, secretly gives gifts to them on his feast day (often leaving them in their shoes). Coming from an anti-Santa household, this has been a good way to reintroduce the tradition into my own family. I’m pro-Santa, by the way, but I like celebrating this feast as a way of introducing my children to the historical Santa. And this year it is awesome, because his feast day falls on a day which just happens to be the day we had already planned to go to Metrotown to get our pictures with Santa. I'm so pleased with this that I might just make it our normal Santa-photo day, assuming work schedules can jive with Santa schedules in the coming years.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our very somber Santa photo. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one smiling. Both kids were on the verge of meltdowns so we were pulled into the picture and I guess <strike>paying</strike> donating for only one picture made us <i>persona non grata</i> because they hustled us in and out of there very quickly (unlike last year when we requested 2 photos and ended up with 4). </td></tr>
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I do like to keep the feast simple, so the kids are getting a chocolate Santa, a book, and their Christmas-Mass outfits. The adults will also get chocolate and will make merry once the children are in bed by toasting St Nikolas with a round of "Bishop's Helper" (spiced wine).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walter's face! This was taken at the precise moment he learned that he couldn't open his present until we'd taken a photo AND he'd have to sit next to his sister. She's being wary because...punches. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're actually happy here, but Emily just plain refuses to smile for the camera.</td></tr>
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This Sunday also happened to be the dedication of our cousin “Baby Avelynn”, so we trekked over to East Vancouver for the pre-dedication party. My cousins are fantastic hosts and the beer & appies kept coming, including a lovely sausage, cheese, & pickle platter that Tara had on hand as a nod to all things Ukrainian Canadian. It was wonderful to meet Paul's side of the family and to meet my cousins' closest friends.<br />
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If I am being cheeky I will tell you that a baby dedication is an Anabaptist response to infant Baptism, although that is not really accurate because there are too many theological differences to draw a true parallel. Suffice to say it is an opportunity for parents and their church community to dedicate their baby to God and to dedicate themselves to helping to raise the child in their faith. My brother and I were both dedicated when we were babies. As an aside, I remember my brother’s dedication being A Big Deal. My dad’s parents came all the way from Abbotsford (and I’m pretty sure that my Großmutter must have been ill with leukemia at the time) and I seem to remember mum being very excited over his blue velvet(?) romper and wandering around the house all misty-eyed and excited. My attitude was one of indifference and boredom...although in my defense I was only 6.5. Anyway, at the time it was impressed upon my brain that this is one of the Things We Do and then of course I converted to Catholicism and it became one of the Things We Don’t Do because we baptize our babies which, of course, as an Anabaptist was one of the Things We Definitely Don’t Do so the whole “what to do with my new baby and my religion” question really becomes quite a complex one for me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All decked out for my Dedication in the family gown made by one of my aunts. </td></tr>
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That was this week’s busyness. So now we come to this week’s rest, a time to say the Advent prayer and to remind myself that with all the busy preparations for our Christmas celebrations there is time to rest, pray, and draw from the well of peace.<br />
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<i>Lord, our God, we praise You for Your Son, Jesus Christ, for He is Emmanuel, the Hope of all people.</i></div>
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<i>He is the Wisdom that teaches and guides us.</i></div>
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<i>He is the Savior of us all.</i></div>
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<i>O Lord,</i></div>
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<i>let your blessing come upon us as we light the first and second (purple) candles of this wreath.</i></div>
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<i>May the wreath and its light be a sign of Christ’s promise of salvation.</i></div>
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<i>May He come quickly and not delay.</i></div>
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<i>We ask this in His holy name. Amen.</i></div>
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</i>LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5791339686078338354.post-77811800316479752052015-12-01T05:18:00.000+08:002015-12-01T05:18:28.595+08:00First Sunday of AdventAdvent, the four beautiful weeks before Christmas where we prepare our hearts and homes to receive the Incarnation. A time to ponder sinfulness, salvation, and to start us on the road that leads to Easter. Also, a time when everyone around us goes completely Christmas-mad!<br />
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For the Porters, the first Sunday of Advent means:</div>
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1) David can finally play Christmas music (and watch Christmas movies) without reproach. In the Ideal World it would only be Advent Music, but I can extend my decrees only so far and we have so many great Christmas records that it would be a shame to only listen to them between December 25th - January 7th. </div>
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2) Sunday desserts suddenly become part of the Christmas baking program. Working mum's gotta save time wherever they can, right? So instead of the usual pies, puddings, cakes etc, it's going to be squares, cookies, and candies for the next few weeks. Today we're kicking it off with peppermint bark. I can pretty much guarantee that the Man of the Place will hate it but as it simply involves stirring crushed candy canes into melted chocolate it seems achievable and like something that toddlers can help with. </div>
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3) We will build our Advent Wreath. This family tradition started in Ely, which means this is our third year doing it. People who live in tiny apartments with no storage cannot accumulate an excess of liturgical decorations. Do you know how much space a wreath takes up and how awkward it is to store? Do you know how hard it is to find one that is both beautiful and affordable? </div>
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This morning, on our way home from Mass, the children and I foraged for some winter evergreens to build our wreath. I was hoping for holly & ivy, but instead we managed to find some red berries of dubious origin, one lone adolescent evergreen, and a few hedges of greenery that looked like it might last until the new year. I may have cursed cities under my breath during the whole excursion, particularly as I have it on good authority that rats are nesting in some of those green hedges. I miss the beautiful fenland walks for Ely or the forested country where I grew up, where to harvest Christmas greenery meant a walk to the sideyard and the holly bush growing there and the ivy twining its way up the mighty trunks of the towering evergreens. City dweller by choice I am not.<br />
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While the children slept I snatched a few minutes to clean away the toy-and-crumb clutter that seems to surround our coffee table. That way, when they woke up I was able to quickly settle them in to helping with the advent wreath making. My method is simple -- decide what size wreath we want and then cut out a circle of cardboard to that size. It can either be mounted (ie taped) onto a plate or put on a board or directly onto whatever surface we're using. In years past I've wrapped the circle in tinfoil or tissue to make it pretty, but this year Emily suggested that we just colour it in. It was a great idea!<br />
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Once the circle is decorated, I lay the base layer of the wreath. This year I formed the base layer with evergreen branches from a young tree, which meant that they were easy to bend. I just stick them on with some tape here or there. After the base layer is down, I weave on a top layer. I like to weave this one in and around the base layer, because it hides the tape and adds a fullness and some height to our wreath. Then I weave in our more decorative pieces, which usually include red berries and perhaps a different type of greenery.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and yes, as I pointed out to David although I might be in my jammies and a cardie I am still rocking 3 strands of pearls. </td></tr>
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The final stage is to add the candles. I misjudged the size this year so our Christ candle doesn't fit, but that's no big deal as it wouldn't be lit until Christmas anyway, at which point we won't be lighting the advent candles. So I will just remove them and maybe use our largest white candle as it should fill up a good portion of the wreath.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFmevczyD0I-YDUKsGyBGe9J-WRXo6j4lGKCfw-dBGfXeYihg6FROPdyPzRmMUJFHUU28jEi9bomhu5HaFIUwf0VR40EGkB7AdFq5cf6Pd0f7ZJ_oqu-2tlwrcv6e_1ow3bxcp1lXf9g/s1600/2015-11-30+03.55.01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFmevczyD0I-YDUKsGyBGe9J-WRXo6j4lGKCfw-dBGfXeYihg6FROPdyPzRmMUJFHUU28jEi9bomhu5HaFIUwf0VR40EGkB7AdFq5cf6Pd0f7ZJ_oqu-2tlwrcv6e_1ow3bxcp1lXf9g/s400/2015-11-30+03.55.01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And that was that! We set it on the living room windowsill and David read a prayer for the First Sunday of Advent:<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #191919; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 21px;"><i>Bestir, O Lord, Thy might, we pray thee and come; that, defended by Thee, we may deserve rescue from approaching dangers brought on by our sins, and being set free by Thee, obtain our salvation. Who livest and reignest, with God the Father, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.</i></span></div>
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I lit the candle and we all enjoyed the cheerful light until the children went to bed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRiUMHKhQpT2E0VZe1OGb-V03yy3uRtD1BtYsXOpdv5MQZIQr99QgZXKjUgyeOCNq9xmPz64ppzq7kkEsdf4Uk33f-d3is24qdusDkwWvpHqOU01aeM7zAEaVYsrN7HMJQui0I73bRdE/s1600/2015-11-30+03.54.36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRiUMHKhQpT2E0VZe1OGb-V03yy3uRtD1BtYsXOpdv5MQZIQr99QgZXKjUgyeOCNq9xmPz64ppzq7kkEsdf4Uk33f-d3is24qdusDkwWvpHqOU01aeM7zAEaVYsrN7HMJQui0I73bRdE/s400/2015-11-30+03.54.36.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love my ghost image in the background? I do not have time to edit photos! But what I am loving is how one of the beautiful wedding ornaments is centred behind our wreath. Our faith is the heart of our family and I'm loving this visual of it.</td></tr>
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LeAnnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06819892298426120448noreply@blogger.com0