I think tonight's girls' club was maybe the nicest we've ever had. I'm like a child about girls' club. I dread it every single week, and it is never as bad as I think, and very often I have a lovely time. Like tonight. Three girls showed up, all of them about the same age, 10 or so. Taylor and the twins, Sidney and Yvonne. The three of them ( Read more... )

My head is cloudy and my throat is sore, and it may be unwise but I am venturing forth. I need fabric. I must have it! A solitary shopping trip, not my first, sure not to be my last. I don't mind it, actually.

At a long table are seated a group of conservatively dressed young people. Two tall young men are talking over each other, telling a story, waving their arms around, it's hard to understand. Then one says, "and he says..." and they look at a third tall man, slightly older, waiting for the punchline. A slight pause and he obliges.

"That's how ( Read more... )

The beginnings of the cold that has plagued FM and Eumir since we got back from Easter is scritch-scratching at the back of my throat. In a week's time, the first of this year's SERVE crew will be arriving, and I'll have to learn to share. My home, my roommates, my time, my computer. I don't think I am going to be good at it. I am trying not to ( Read more... )

In Britain shopfronts display St. George flags, and villagers in Oxfordshire made 20 dragons to decorate their village this year. In some parts of Spain, there are parades and costumes and Medieval battle re-enactments. In others, people exchange books and flowers, "a rose for love and a book forever." In Bulgaria they roast a whole lamb. We sang ( Read more... )

I am getting impatient to come home, but occasional google doc squee-fests are easing the pain. Lots of church this week, as one might expect. I am running low on battery power at the moment, and need to start going to bed at a decent hour.

I was just listening to a little Radio 4. A programme (as they say) about food, making me think about the new way I have had to look at perogies and cabbage rolls. Pyrohy and holobchi, as I have come to understand. I doubt that I'll be fasting from much more than meat during Holy Week, but I'll spend Good Friday eating a discreet bite when I can ( Read more... )

We have a conversation like this:
"This song is so grade 8. 1986"
"That's the year I was born"
"Grade 2"
"What? I am thirteen years older than you?"

Yep. I am still the same age.

It was just on the cusp of evening as we left the Perimeter Highway behind us, Lesia at the wheel, her mother riding shotgun, Father Mike beside me and Phyllis in the back. They were excited to tell me the history as we went. Lesia explained to me about Father Ruh, the Roman Oblate priest who traveled the prairies building Ukrainian Catholic ( Read more... )

The church was freezing, I put on my scarf. Eumir passed me my jacket without even taking his eyes off Father Greg. The old lady next to me grabbed my sleeve to help me put it on. After the service she clasped my arm and told me I had a beautiful voice. I am feeling hugged, but I haven't had one since yesterday, when little Jordan rushed over ( Read more... )