that perfect hand…

In Ocean's 11, Danny said that "the house always wins. If you play long enough, never change the stakes, then the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along, you bet big… and then, you take the house." Here's the hand I've been dealt, sometimes it's risky and sometimes it's safe, but all the time… it's perfect. It's mine.


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out of the mouths of…

Two best things I heard in the last 24 hours:

1. Jayme: Hey guys, guess what I learned about today at school?

Mom/Me: What?

Jayme: The Male Reproductive System. The boys were pretty embarrassed.

Me: Well, What did you learn?

Jayme: Eww, Kate, I don’t want to talk about it!

[awwkward. Heavy on the ‘aww’]

2. Jes: Yea so last night we went for dessert at [some friends] house. [All the people] there had kids or newborns. Mark and I were the only dinks there. It was interesting.

Me: Dinks?

Jes: Yea, dinks. That’s what people call us here — Double Income No Kids.

[I died. I absolutely died.]


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and

Just like that, she’s home. While I plan to write and extensive, detailed account of my thoughts and experiences of Year #1 in Victoria, particularly things to miss the four months I am away… it poured rain while I was driving to the ferry, then it was gray skies while I was on the 2 hour, $56 ferry ride, then the ferry parked us in the middle of the water for an extended tug-boat debacle for an extra 45 minutes, then it poured rain alllllllll the way until I hit the “Welcome to the Similkameen Valley” sign on the Hope-Princeton highway, sun and blue skies the rest of the way — and I felt a tug at the corner of my mouth, thinking ‘Thank God I am home’.

Full disclosure to come.


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twinkle toed

It’s all over! Whew! I wish I could say that this year flew by too fast, just like the last three… but it couldn’t come soon enough. A little word to the up-and-coming university students? Make sure you take five courses every semester and make sure you take the right ones. Otherwise you’ll be like me, finished my fourth year after a provincial transfer, still needing a whole other year before I have a degree. I would like to think it’s worth it… but somedays I am frustrated.

However, the feeling of relief that comes after the last final exam never changes, especially the last one in April; that feeling of awesomeness that you just could care less what your grades are, you’re done and you can’t feel the ground beneath your feet (or your thumb, wrist, and fingers for writing so much) in the sheer amazement that you pulled it off.

That’s where I am right now. After a drink with the roomie on the couch before the night ends and packing begins. If this is as good as it gets, I think I will be glad I proved [atleast to myself] that I can do four years of post-secondary and still anticipate another couple years. Remembering my very first year, hauling out the couch to the grassy area between residence and the pond, laying there when Paul came screaming out of the school yelling “SUMMMERRRR”… to now, just chilling alone.

It’s that same old feeling.

Heinous.

Nostalgic.

Painful.

Exciting.

Worth it?

You bet.

Twinkle toed.


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heinous

I just wrote a Shakespeare (LAST ONE EVER!!!) final for three hours straight. That means, three of my final exams are done and I have one more. It is tomorrow night (Tues) at 7 pm. I haven’t even LOOKED at the material yet. I’ve organized it, but not LOOKED at it yet (having three other finals will do that to a person). What I want to know is, do you think if I wake up at a decent hour tomorrow, I can study enough? My brain is fried and the couch is looking awfully comfy for a Kate-night-in-front-of-the-television-to-rest-her-overloaded-brain. Or do you think I need to study tonight too? Thoughts, opinions?

Please use discretion when responding to this post, I do not take kindly to being labeled a procrastinator. Especially when I just busted out three, three hour finals in the last four days.

The course tomorrow is Race and Ethnicity in Canada and it’s partially open book.

I will be checking this post continuously, so the more feedback the better.

Thank you.


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angels among us

Cheesy? Start over.

I read somewhere once that the most powerful and healthy way to look at the world is as though like we are looking through the eyes of a child.

I say, look at the eyes, the face, the body, the interactions, the whole being of a child, and that’s proof positive that there is something bigger than all of us that is creating us.

There is a frame that sits on Rutherfords’ mantle, with Makenna in it that says something like “All of God’s Grace In One Little Face” and looking at the picture, at children, who could really argue that? (I know that there is a book with that ‘quote’ as the title for it…but I have only seen it on their frame).

There are some kids that have grown extremely close to my heart in the recent past. There are three little girls that I love without knowing simply because Ashlee is my great friend Angela’s niece, Clare because she is my great friend BillieJean’s daughter, and Gabriella is my great friend Sandra’s daughter (who I hate that has turned one before I’ve gotten to meet her!). And I think most of you know the other four.

When I see pictures like these, or interact with them, or even just know there are some coming around the corner (BillieJean!), there is a part of my heart that stirs in a way that makes me believe this: I started out that wide-eyed, innocent, smooth skinned, honest, cute, untainted, bold, matter-of-fact, brilliant, spirited, and brave. Why not try to do so all over again?

Not just see the world through the eyes of a child, but live as such, that I am a child, of God, myself. I need that wonder and awe and excitement at taking a first step or discovering something new…whether it’s as small as a cactus that is [potentially] going to bloom soon or as large as a dream come true. Though it’s still jaded and experienced and rough, my life is a work of God’s hand, and His art, and that is something to appreciate with the rare genuineness and bravery and intelligence that ripples in waves from these children that I love, love, love so much.

I don’t want to be a kid again, but I want to understand how they look at the world so I can have the same reverence to my own life and faith.

[And I am sure going to miss the kidlets on V.Isl. a heck of a lot in the next four months! Even though I know she is gifted and talented beyond measure, can you please not encourage Makenna to walk until I am back? :)]

Not many words to describe, to be honest:

Ashlee

Gabriella

Clare!

Griffin

Logan, Connor, and teeny tiny [hard-to-believe-it’s] Makenna

And if you can believe it, that’s mini-ME! Who wouldn’t wanna be that all over again?


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middle school bus conversations

It might just be a form of hearsay, but I heard them say:

“Hey [x] I think you’re really cool.”

“But [y], you’re a lot cooler than I am.”

“I don’t think so [x], more people want to sit by you in class than me.”

“That might be true, but you have more friends that are girls than I do.”

“So? I am a girl. I still think you’re cooler, [x], because the only reason girls don’t talk to you as much as me is because they think you’re hot.”

“Oh, sure. They don’t need to talk to me because they already can talk to you. The only people who hang out with me hang out because you’re my bff, [y].”

“Maybe we should just admit that we’re both the coolest kids in class.”

“It might be a good idea, otherwise we’ll just keep arguing.”

“Ok, so we’re both really cool.”

“Yep. Hey [y]?”

“Yea?”

“Maybe we can be boyfriend and girlfriend then. Since we’re both really cool and stuff.”

“Yea! Then everyone would want to hang out with us together.”

Interject voice [z], clearly “cooler” than those two: “Maybe you two should talk quieter.”

I would really like to sit down with someone who will tell me for over ten minutes that I am cooler than they are. And then ask me out.

Maybe I need to get more cool before that’s even a possibility. Or fix my delusional reality on what it takes to be cool enough to date.

I digress.


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sheer desperation

It’s not very often that I read a book, especially one that is recommended to me, and feel this overwhelming need to buy a copy for every person I know (and don’t know, for that matter). But today I did. Usually I read books that most people probably wouldn’t enjoy, so I tend to not trust people’s recommendations as per differing tastes. But today I did.

Jes was given The Shack from a friend in Camrose, and as it came highly recommended to her, she highly recommended it to me. And since I trust Jes to the ends of my fingertips, I went out and bought it — smart move since I should be studying for my finals, mind you.

I just finished it. It was phenomenal… actually, transcending. Actually, there are no words to describe the book…and the way it touched my soul and my lack of faith and every need in me to understand Jesus deeper. So rather than trying to explain its affect on my heart, I urge you, in almost sheer desperation, to go and find The Shack by William P. Young (local Christian bookstore or Chapters or any major outlet, really). Stop reading whatever you’re reading, whether it be textbooks or magazines or romances or self help books or whatever. I am not a crier but this book broke me, and maybe because at the core of the story was a story about me. And about all of you.

It’s not a hard book to read, by grammatical and metaphorical standards, but it’s a definite journey of a book to read. It was hard to read only by the truths it revealed. Wow.

I wish I was exaggerating, but I am not. Go read this book. Now.

And then lets talk about it. I am having a hard time deciding between starting to study or reading it all over again. Thanks Jes.

Here’s the back cover of the book (I stole it from the website, sorry Mr. Young):


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better luck next time

I think I am going to put in for a trade. We lost last night and Coach S sat the “power line” halfway through the game.  Idon’t exactly know what he was trying to achieve, but long story short, instead of hitting any homeruns after 4 innings, I was sitting on my cold rear-end making new friends and eating chocolate truffles.

Needless to say, Colwood 2 had a humbling experience last night. I didn’t realize just HOW humbling until I was informed that last year this team went undefeated. I guess all good things must come to an end eventually, because We. Got. Creamed. Last night. Unfortch. Scott also got hurt. You can’t really tell from the picture but on the left side of his knee cap there is a black welt where the dude from Glad Tidings (the other G.T. team) smoked a line drive right into his knee. It looked really bad, especially when Scott fell to the ground in agony.

There was a hush that fell over the crowd and the game ended as everyone held their breath as our valiant coach laid on the ground. We didn’t even get to play our open inning and try to gain all those runs back (we were down by about 21 runs sadly).

What I thought was cool is Scott obviously is a big deal: the game ended on account of him. We are blessed in having such a fantastic coach who exercises literally ‘taking it for the team‘.

In other news, I think that we lost because A: I didn’t play the 2nd half of the game and B: Jord left his hiking boots at home. He did get a new tattoo, though.

Cheers!

(I just realized from this pic you really can’t tell — trust me, it was brutal. I wouldn’t blog about it if it wasn’t)


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wednesdays almost over

Wednesday night dinners have been such a grandiose event this semester. We celebrate my finally winning at Scrabble. We recognize Auntie’s return from Hawaii or bid Alicia ‘good luck’ for interviews up the province. More accurately, we tend to always be celebrating Griffin’s birthday. (He’s not four until November, mind you, but where there is cake and ice cream involved, we sing him happy birthday.) Case in point, see photograph #1:

If we were counting specifics, I think Griffin is turning about 14 in this photo. After all, he’s had many-a-birthday!

But the REAL kicker is that last week, after Dan becoming a pilot and all that wonderfulness, Lee bought him a gorgeous cake, covered in marzipan and loaded with whipping cream, grand marnier, oranges, white and chocolate cake, raspberries, and deliciousness all rolled into one dome of sugary goodness… aptly named “The Ultimate Cake” by the bakery. Although, Dan had gone up island so…

In full lameosity, he missed his own party. Not at fault, he was going to Campbell R. to get a job (which he did get offered today — yay). But still. Doesn’t mean we couldn’t celebrate without him:

Way to go Dan! We’re so proud of you (and excited for cake!)

He was there in spirit.

Kels gave us a Bible study in Matthew — the Beatitudes, more precisely. Good word.

…yes, we can have our cake and eat it too..

I think I will miss this this summer. Right down to cheating Scrabble matches and Griffin’s ‘crazy dance’.