Footsteps of blue,
means the ice is cold.
Stopping outside,
is being bold.
The pot near the rainbow,
is full of gold.
The world is changing,
so I'm told.
It's going so fast,
it's got me feeling old.
Only when I need to,
Age, it's making me Bold!
I first learned of Lasagna Love shortly before this past Christmas. Our local news station carried a short interview with a local Lasagna Love volunteer.
I have been looking for a volunteer opportunity for a while. My name has been on the volunteer waiting list at our local Food Bank for about a year.
After seeing the news clip and a conversation with my husband, I googled the organization and signed up. We made our first delivery today. Our second is in the freezer, awaiting a delivery date.
Founded in 2020, Lasagna Love is a platform that connects neighbours for home-cooked meal delivery.
It has transformed into an international movement of kindness, impacting thousands of volunteers and recipient families each week.
To volunteer or sign up for a home cooked lasagna go to lasagnalove.org
I’ve joined a little Facebook group that’s been around for almost 10 years.
It’s called Art Journaling for Beginners. It’s a spot to share and learn about art.
I’m hoping to complete a journal entrance every day. So far, I haven’t missed a day.
Let’s see where this year takes me.
We’ve always wanted to stop at Webers for one of the charcoal barbecued burgers. But, until this afternoon, the timing was never right, or we were on the wrong side of the highway.
The walk across the walkway over the highway is something we wanted as a part of the experience. The walkway is a portion of the pedestrian bridge of the CN tower, the CN tower, until 2009, was the world’s tallest freestanding structure.
The burger, with the charcoal fire, enhancing the flavour of the frozen patty was yummy. My husband’s footlong hotdog was grilled to a perfect crispness. His chocolate milkshake was too thick to drink.
We arrived at this unique burger joint just before their dinner rush. We were able to dine in an original train dining car.
We love exploring the bounty our backyard has to offer! This is one of those unique spots along the way.
Growing up, my favourite part of Christmas was always Midnight Mass. This was back when midnight masses were actually at midnight.
I would be a little bit giddy from being up so late.
I would be a little bit squished because the church was so full.
I would watch as those coming in from the local pub would make their way to the only remaining seats at the front of the church.
I would watch them as they fell asleep.
I would listen to and sing along with my father as he sang those beautiful Christmas hymns, sometimes in Latin, that most ancient of languages.
I loved the stained glass windows reaching high up for the ceiling. The acoustics in the archs reflecting the angel voices below
I remember the humble nativity scene where I would stand in wonder as I looked down at the face of little baby Jesus asleep in a manger of hay.
I loved looking up as large, white, flakes of Christmas snow fell from the wintery sky as we exited the church.
For this short period of time, we were all the same.
……………………………………………………………………..
Tonight the mass was at 9:30pm and I am wide awake.
The church is not as full. There are a few but not many, empty pews
I had forgotten the beauty of this old historical building. The qualities of the wood, the curvature of the arches, and choir rail. The ornate statues that graced not just the altar area but also the sides and back of the church.
I had forgotten the smells of the incense and the sound of the bells and the folded hands of the altar boys.
The voices of the choir that rang through the choir were divine. My father’s voice was missing, but he was probably listening.
The faith of the people was strong and obvious.
A nativity scene graced the back of the church, beckoning the children, both young and old, to stop and wonder at the face of the little baby Jesus.
I’m very happy that we decided to stop by tonight.
…………………………………………………………………
John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.”
J
White Chapel bells rang through the Simcoe County Museum during their Victorian Christmas celebrations, playing Christmas Carols as their audience quietly sang along.
White Chapel bells are also the makers of the Liberty Bell, and the bell that rings from England’s Tower of Big Ben.
Love when a small community gathers together, in a beautiful church, for an old-fashioned Carol sing.
All the while caring for the more vulnerable members of their town.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me what sounded like twelve drummers drumming,
Eleven organs pipes the walls bedecking.
Ten brass instruments deep tones richly playing.
Nine woodwind instruments gracefully their melancholy sounds making.
Eight violins, times two, quivering.
Seven strings a stringing, with cellos and the beautiful upright bass richly haunting.
Six trays of cookies for eating.
FIVE GOLDEN RINGS
Four children for Santa watching.
Three conductors being amazing.
Two piano players vibrating.
AND ONE SOLD OUT CROWD!!!!!!
After 25 years of the Holiday Train stopping in our area on its journey through Canada and the United States collecting food and funds for local Food Banks, we were finally able to witness the event.
We followed our Mayor from the Simcoe County Museum through a winter wonderland of pine trees and snow to the spot where the train would come to a stop. Along the way, our Mayor gave us a quick education on controlled burns, tree planting, and the tree Museum.
We met jolly old St. Nicholas, dropped off our donation for our local Food Bank, zipped hot chocolate, and enjoyed the music of the Anyway Gang.
I dropped by our local food bank about eight months ago offering my services as a volunteer. They added my name to their waiting list. Prehaps I’ll get a call in the new year.
Matthew 25:40, ‘The King will reply,’I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'”
Giving Tuesday, founded in Canada, in 2013, is a wonderful way of focusing on giving instead of consuming.
Active in more than 80 countries, its common mission is to make giving a part of everyday life.
Matthew 25:45, “‘He will reply, ‘ I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'”
A scar
is but a jagged line.
Left for years
to refine.
The pain is big.
The pain is small.
Sometimes,
there is no pain at all.
There is a scar
in the tree,
from where
this branch used to be.
The blue birds move
nearer the tree.
Nearer the tree,
but further from me.
Groovy Tales of a Well Adult 