Don't you just

love it when you eat something, swallow it, and then still get to enjoy the bits that remain stuck in your teeth?

Right now I'm still experiencing the aftermath of my sea salt & HINT OF LIME tortilla chips. I would wager, however, that they are not nearly as enjoyable as the lingering hints of: candy canes, blue whales, caramel, Swedish berries, or butterscotch Livesavers.

Even now, minutes later, I'm still finding chips in my cheeks and my many molars. Seriously, how much stuff can be hidden in this mouth of mine? (don't answer that)

The Mysterious Substance

I don't know what happened. I was late for a ferry, see, and so found myself hoofin' it across the longest parking lot known to man. Naturally, I had a massive bag of marking in tow, along with my overly stuffed backpack. Everything was flapping and bopping and flailing about. Plus there was my big purse, lighter than normal. As I kind of loped along, I realized that I forgot my cell phone on the seat of my car, which worried me. I was the person the realty dude was going to call to let us know when he was showing our house (making ME the contact person was SHEER brilliance). My task was to then inform everyone of potential strangers in our midst. Well, I guessed my roomies would soon figure it out, but hopefully BEFORE they tromped around the house in their skivvies.

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But so far I haven't told you the interesting part of the story.

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When I finally got to the terminal (by just a hair) and had found the boy I was meeting there, I made somewhat of a dramatic entrance with my gasping for breath, clutching my lungs, and lamenting my cell phone's absence. But then, you see, I took off my backpack and noticed the most disgusting, curious growth on the back side of my pack. It was orange, and circular, and smelled musty and looked downright scary. (I'm not that surprised anymore when I see moldy substances. My trunk has a leaking problem, and I have a fixing problem.) Anyway, I also noticed that where my jacked rubs up against my backpack was now stained orange (must be from all the bouncing my backpack did whilst I gracefully ambled through the parking lot). Excellent. I had ruined my jacked and now had to somehow scrape revolting, moldy substance off backpack with... fingernail?

Here's some photographic evidence of said orange substance and subsequent stain:

Ewwwwwwwwwwwww. Ew. Ew.

Yeah, that's my jacket, all right.

This is my sad face, Mom.

So, as is my custom, I sort of just left disgusting substance on my bag and jacket, and went about the goings on of the weekend. However, my plight was rectified by the beautiful, resourceful assistance of RPT's elbow (Andy's mama) and Mr. Clean's magic eraser. Yes, she did indeed clean up the WHOLE mess for me. Free of charge. Wonderful!

And all was well with Cheryl's world. There are numerous theories as to the actual identity of the mysterious orange substance. My favourite so far is it's poop that I sweep under my bed with a little mini brush. Pshaw. As if.

Oh, and if you're curious about a special musical surprise Andy received this weekend, I'm sure you can read all about it here... once he writes about it, that is.

An Untitled

This just in: ...my landlord is selling our house... I'm not really surprised cuz she gave us a heads up a while back, plus I've lived here for almost four years, so I'm ready for a change. I've decided not to stress about where I will live or what my next few months will look like -- God has always hooked me up in the past. I've had so many amazing living situations that have truly blessed my life and created friendships and memories that will last a lifetime (that totally sounds like something from out of a greeting card, but it's true, so I don't even care).

Actually, I'm excited for what's coming next. We don't always need to go on crazy missions trips to Africa or hitch-hike across Canada for adventures. Sometimes they crop up on us, unawares, literally from our back yards. Sometimes I like to think I always have my suitcase half packed, with maybe a toothbrush, some pjs, and a handful of amazing underwear, all just in case my pager goes off with an indication that God has found something for me (I always just need to make sure I'm listening for the beeps). Then, I get to look around a corner and know that something is there waiting for me -- something exciting, or rare, or beautiful. Something unexpected. Something precious.

I thought of taking a picture of myself beside the for sale sign on our front lawn. I couldn't decide, though, whether I wanted to be kissing it or yanking it out of the ground. Regardless, I will be interacting with that sign in some way. That sign has planted itself on my lawn, on my life, and promises to bring about change -- through hands, through lives, through faces.

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But oh, what does the sign say??

I guess it says whatever He needs it to say.

Lifting the Veil

Millions of pictures, pictures from me! For you! For strangers! For creepy people!

Category 1: Vocation - Mind Shaper, Word Reader, Blah, Blah, Doodley-Doo

So this is my classroom. I had to withstand four years out in the portables with dead mice on my carpet before I got this little jewel. The principal informed me today that I have to move my hanging cubes, though. Apparently my projects set off the alarm five times (over the past couple months) in the middle of the night (circa 3 am) before they figured out that I was the culprit. Who knew that tying wall hangings right in front of a motion sensor and beside a heating duct would set off the alarm? And yes, that little black and yellow book is Poetry for Dummies. I am very educated.

Category 2: Moving the Boy - Island to Mainland

Apparently moving can cause you to do crazy things. We packed up some stuff, put lots in storage, and then ate sandwiches and hit some bottle (spinning). This picture of Andy in the "moving van" is a personal favourite, mostly because of the cowboy hats, his amazing expression (seriously, you should really enlarge this sucker), and the full bum shot (which I don't recommend you enlarge). This picture of me is a perfect example of "all is not as it seems." I may look like I'm slammin' this rather large bottle of amber rum, but I'm not. Nope. I'm a good girl. I'm only pretending.

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Category 3: Snow and all things magical

We've had some snow days lately, eh? Glorious. When I took these photos, we were on our way to Anton's where I received a plate of pasta that seriously was stretched over FIVE meals. That, my friends, is a lot of freaking carbs and butter to eat for that many meals in a row. Why hallooo little Herbert!

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Category 4: Ailments - Yeah, yeah, my own fault

OK, so this is my swollen toe. If you are thinking that it doesn't look very puffy or painful, then you are WRONG. My toe is much smaller than that on a regular basis. You may also notice that you can see my toe hairs. Gross? Naw. I refuse to shave my toe hairs. Seriously, I already have to shave, like, half of my body as it is. This (sideways) odd looking concoction is my brilliant version of icing my sprained joint capsule. For your future reference, if you're ever in a similar predicament, just grab a baggie, some ice, a sock, and a tea towel. The trick here is to elevate your foot and balance the ice on top, see. The tea towel helps hold the ice in place, plus adds a little je ne sais quoi.

All right, I think I'm gonna end this little photo tour. I mean, I could go on and on with more pictures, but I am going to save some for a rainy day. I already know that the formatting is going to cause me immeasurable grief, so I'd better get at 'er.

Lotsa Ice With a Wedge of Lime, Please

I had a bit of an adventure on the way to school this morning. You may remember that it was snowing. Well, it all started when the traffic was crazy backed up, cars were in the ditch everywhere, big trucks were stranded at the bottom of a hill, and I was forced to stop my little Cavaliere mid-hill. Behind a mini-van. Naturally, the van couldn't move an inch up that hill, so, being the nice gal I am (and because I have immense muscles), I put on my hazard lights, stepped out of my car, and proceeded to help push the van. The driver of the van was a mother (big shocker, there), and she put her twelve-year-old son in the driver's seat and told him to just put his foot on the gas as we pushed. Brilliant. Imagine a soccer mom and a frazzled teacher pushing a van while a line up of cars is behind us on the hill, waiting for us and watching our every move as a young boy slams his foot on the gas pedal. Joy was added to the situation when the mother and I couldn't get any grip on the road because it was a sheet of ice. We were grunting, and sliding, and laughing, and covering ourselves in the mud splash that was all over the back of the van (and I accidentally wiped my hands on my beige dress pants - nasty habit). Finally, one of the dads from our school stopped to help us push, and then another dad stopped and helped, too. Then the happy little mini-van duo was able to continue on its way. The helpful daddys also pushed my car, and I was able to make it to school seconds before the second bell. The end.

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I'm trying to familiarize myself with my blog. I'm slow. Eventually I'll get some real pictures on this thing, but until I comandeer my special nerd and learn about the wonderful world of flickr, I'm gonna just keep telling you that I have pictures coming. Now if that doesn't make for interesting reading material, I don't know what does.

I added a splash of colour to the top corner of the page, though. The very smart and handy boyfriend is also quite the interior decorator. He suggested a lemon or a lime wedge would brighten things up around here. And he was correct.

This here lime to the right was a close runner-up to the highly coveted lime pedestal on my page. It just makes me want to touch it (and let's face it, it does lend itself well to being in the limelight). I wish I had one of these. I would put myself in a dark room, pop it in my mouth and see if a green glow came out my nostrils. That would be so rad.

I love the end of term

Um, yeah. There is a bit of swearing on this page. Sorry - I hope your eyes are not burning. Stress brings out the swearing in me, though. And humanness. And lots of deep sighing. And short, choppy sentences.

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Lots is going on right now, but I think if I were to write it all out and could see my life before me in black and white, I might just throw this here monitor out the window.

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At least there's always coffee, and hugs, and words, and a big God. At least time is kind and always keeps moving.

With Pain in Toe

I have now in my acquaintance someone who enjoys cracking random people's toes. Yes, he does in fact just walk up to any available foot where innocent little piggies are exposed and give them a yank. It's kind of weird. From time to time I see the toe glint come into his eyes and I know to brace myself for not only some snap, crackle, and pop, but also for the expression of pure, unadulterated satisfaction to appear on his face. This happened on Tuesday night. Only this time he was unable to crack my big toe. Being the wonderful person I am, I haw-hawed at his failure, and firmly grabbed my own toe and gave it a good crushing. Nothing happened, except it felt a little funny. And started to hurt quite a lot the next day.

We went to a wedding on Wednesday night and I sort of ignored my pain and danced the night away anyhow. Big mistake. While sleeping, I kept getting interrupted by little messages of ouchiness travelling up my leg. I find throbbing to be a weird sensation. It's like I now have a mini little heart in my toe that loves to pound out more than a catchy beat. Basically I've been hobbling around since, but the pain has been bearable, for the most part. Until last night.

I have no idea what happened, but my poor little toe started wailing and screaming and biting and just being darned cantankerous. I was in Vancouver and had to drive home using my HEEL on the gas pedal. Very safe, yes. I then could barely walk into my house and getting into bed provided none of the usual blissfulness.

I have never injured myself before and so I found myself in uncharted territory. I remembered that elevation is good, ice is good, some anti-inflammatories are good. Well, I had no drugs, and I figured that if I propped my foot up onto my big stuffed bear, that could count as elevation, but I couldn't figure out how to wrap ice around my toe with a tea towel.

Finally, after two hours of whimpering, moaning, and yelling at my toe (and myself for being such a wimp), I attempted some mind-over-matter strategies. Sometimes when I'm wounded I like to pretend I'm someone really strong, like The Rock or a viking or something. Those dudes definitely can handle the pain from something as insignificant as a toe. I imagined my huge muscles and shrugged my shoulders and was like, what pain? That worked for about 30 seconds, then I just focussed on my breathing and pretended that I didn't even have legs. That actually worked for about a minute, but then I realized that drugs would be a much better strategy - less thinking involved.

Operation: find drugs. Difficult at 5 am. Roommate sleeping. I wrapped myself in my duvet, got on my hands and knees, and started crawling. I discovered that not only is crawling with a duvet and sprained/broken/crushed/gangrenous toe rather difficult, but that my other roommate just happened to have a massive bottle of Tylenol on her bed. Oh glory!! So I downed about three of those puppies and headed to bed. Then I waved my fingers over my belly and started chanting very persuasively: "Little Tylenols, my loyal white friends, may you dissolve like you've never dissolved before. May you travel quickly to my toe or my pain receptors in my brain, or wherever it is you go. I will pay your cab fare. I will put your children through college. Ah, my friends, my friends. The trinity of bliss. Thou holy fount of every blessing..."

And so I slept.

I'm going to the clinic tomorrow if this keeps up. Honest.

Oh, and I got a digital camera!!!!!! I have pics of my poor toe but I don't know how to get them on here yet. In time your eyes will be dazzled by my many escapades.

Pleasing God and Meeting with Success

2007. Yup. New year. Time for reflection, weight-loss, hope, and, most of all, a kind blank slate. I was trying to think of any new year's resolutions, but I don't think there's anything specific I'd list. I am, however, resolved to continue being shaped and molded into someone who puts a smile on God's face every once in a while, hopefully more often than last year.

Benjamin Franklin seemed to have life figured out, and so if there's anyone who could cook up a list of resolutions, it would be him. I will share with you his list of virtues and their precepts:

1. TEMPERANCE
Eat not to Dulness
Drink not to Elevation.
2. SILENCE
Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself. Avoid trifling Conversation.
3. ORDER
Let all your Things have their Places. Let each Part of your Business have its Time.
4. RESOLUTION
Resolve to perform what you ought. Perform without fail what you resolve.
5. FRUGALITY
Make no Expence but to do good to others or yourself: i.e. Waste nothing.
6. INDUSTRY
Lose no Time. -- Be always employ'd in something useful. --Cut off all unnecessary Actions.--
7. SINCERITY
Use no hurtful Deceit.
Think innocently and justly; and, if you speak; speak accordingly.
8. JUSTICE
Wrong none, by doing Injuries or omitting the Benefits that are your Duty.
9. MODERATION
Avoid Extreams. Forbear resenting Injuries so much as you think they deserve.
10. CLEANLINESS
Tolerate no Uncleanness in Body, Cloaths or Habitation. --
11. TRANQUILITY
Be not distrubed at Trifles, or at Accidents common or unavoidable.
12. CHASTITY
Rarely use Venery but for Health or Offspring; Never to Dulness, Weakness, or the Injury of your own or another's Peace or Reputation. --
13. HUMILITY
Imitate Jesus and Socrates. --

Father of Light and Life, thou Good supreme,

O teach me what is good, teach me thy self!

Save me from Folly, Vanity and Vice,

From every low Pursuit, and fill my Soul

With Knowledge, conscious Peace, & Virtue pure,

Sacred, substantial, neverfading Bliss!

(The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, 1706-1790)