Potato Chip Friends

I noticed the other day at lunch that a child who is quite unpopular, had a few kids swarmed around him. I quickly grew suspicious and went over for a closer inspection. Sure enough, this child had opened a packet of potato chips and certain kids were asking him for one.

I intervened and told the vultures to stop being 'potato chip' friends. All crumbley and breakable... and only coming around when something is on offer.

When life is good we are always surrounded by people, who bask in our success and in the light we give out. When life is bad, we withdraw and creep around, unnoticed and usually only a few of our truest friends crawl into the dark corners and spend time with us.

I have felt very much like my bag of potato chips have been empty for quite some time now. I have nothing to give the vultures... I am lucky to get my own lunch eaten. I've crawled into a hole and I hide away whenever I can.

A lot of things have occured in the past few months and I've found out that your true friends are not just the ones who stick around, but also the ones that follow you into the hole.

I am so busy and not quite ready to poke my head out yet. I imagine in the ebb and flow of life, there could come a time, when once again, I hold the prize in my hands. But until then, be patient with me. I will be back.

Concerning monkeys...

Happy Birthday to you, You live in a ZOO, You look like a MONKEY and You smell like one too!

After seeing Madagascar, this is my kids' favorite version of the 'Happy Birthday' song. I think once we had them call their grandmother in Adelaide and asked them to sing over the phone... big mistake. hee hee.

Well it was cute and kind of funny.

It is a monkey's birthday today, a big tall monkey that came quite unexpectedly into my life recently. So, to this monkey all I can say is... I'm not sure if you look like a monkey, or if you smell like a monkey, but when it comes to cheeky monkey behavior and the banana fetish components, you have it covered. Happy Birthday from me. :)

Ready, Set, Go....

Yes, it is November. In fact, already one week of the month has passed. The sprint for the end of the year has begun.

Like drivers, who are almost out of fuel, we slow down, we try to make the most of our resources, start conserving our time... but the end is coming. Christmas will be upon us in 7 weeks. YES 7 weeks, then you wink, you blink and nod your head... HAPPY NEW YEAR is here once again.

Its a crazy time for teachers too. Five weeks left of school (I am almost half way!) But wait... report cards to write, endless amounts of Christmas crafts to organize, kids start swimming lessons in week 8... ahhh the list goes on and on.

Well, I like to be organized! You know me. I plan ahead and am never caught with my pants down in the holiday season. :) I've bought my Christmas cards, my stamps, and I have a pen that works! So, amidst the report writing... the homework marking, the running of my business, the long phonecalls... I plan to get them written and sent before the end of the month.

Heather is turning over a new leaf. It is a new era... I almost got all the birthday presents sent on time... one to go... OH, and I can't find one, and I keep eating the other... but hey, you can't expect perfection. As long as I am trying so hard. ;)

The Naked Crab

A fresh start, a vulnerable chapter in my life, I had to begin where I left off and start with this story...

Naked Crabs

At the sea shore, every pool and puddle left by the retreating tide seems to have a little crab it in. Little ones scuttle sideways squeezing under rocks, peeking from a patch of seaweed, occasionally venturing out to nibble on unwary human toes.

Now and then you may see bigger crabs, in deeper pools. With ponderous majesty, they wave huge claws as a warning to stay away.On the beach, shells of crabs lay washed up by the waves. Some are from crabs that died. Others are simply discarded, a dwelling far too small for its growing occupant. That's how crabs grow bigger- when their shells get too tight, they split the shell open and grow a new one.

I've never talked with a crab. But I imagine the process of splitting a shell must be painful. I'm sure that until they grow a new shell, they must feel terribly defenceless and vulnerable. Because that's how we humans feel when we crack open our shells.

Our shells aren't visable like crabs. But they are there just the same- shells formed by years of habit, shells that protect us from other people, shells that are the roles we play as teachers, children, bosses or employees.

Every now and then we crack our shells open and emerge into the new world, quivering and defenceless.Teenagers do it as they become adults. No wonder they get cracked sometimes. Adults do it as they learn- as they let go running their children's lives; or when they get retrenched at work: or when the family's life-situation changes and they have to start all over again, alone. When they know failure. When a dream disappears.

In all these traumas of life, a shell is broken. A new vulnerable life is started. Like a shell, the the longer the shell has been growing around us, the harder it is to break it open. The more painful to start again.

Some of our shells have been worn for generations. Our Christian faith can be a shell handed down by our ancestors. Some faith shells are worth keeping. Others have become prisons - shells so encrusted with the barnacles of the past, so burning with trailing weeds, so constricted, that we can no longer move when God calls.

No one looks for painful experiences, in life or in faith. To avoid pain, we may prefer to stay locked into shells that no longer fit very well, rather than risk the vulnerability of cracking them open. But when a crab's shell becomes too thick, too protective, too tough to crack open and start again, then the crab cannot grow any more.

That's when it dies. So do we.