wok 'n woll at Wheelies

The music was throbbing, pouring through the doors we opened.  As we stepped into the huge complex (seemed to us), we were directed to the cash register at the side.  We could barely hear the man's question, "How many skaters?"....well, there were seven of us, our family and two of the boys friends.  I was clutching a box of Flaked Yogurt Bars, for the kids as a little snack later.  The man pointed  to it and yelled gruffly, "Their will be no outside food or drinks!  Absolutely not!"  Steve looked a little chagrined and turned to take them back to the car.  No doubt at "twoony" night, they make their money on over-priced drinks and snacks....We made our way to the skate desk and the 13 -year old girl with tight jeans handed over a pair of mismatched brown limpy skates.  It has been at least 20 years since I rollar-skated last and looking at those skates, I wondered that they were probably older then I was, since rollar skating was invented far earlier then my tight-jeaned days!  Steve got the boys set up, then off we were hand in hand, our legs stiff and ankles wobbly...the perfect couple under the disco ball and lights.

I looked around and realized that we were skating on a basketball court, bamboo floor and nets up ahead.  The DJ for the night was a bearded tatooed gentleman, whose persona seemed to lend to the surroundings.  Everything seemed worn out, loud, dusty and "chick" oriented.  As I seemed to find my former rollar skating rhythm though, I was kind of enjoying it.  My boys were skating with varying degrees of wide legged, arms flying or steady persistence.  We'd link hands and laugh.  They would crash into the wall and laugh.  Their frightened friend actually got off the bench and made his tentitive way on the floor.  We watched the little girl (about 6) skate like a pro, and a dad at the side dance with his daughter, careful not to endanger both with an errant roll.   When the last song came, we couldn't believe that the time had ended and we all survived and even really, really liked it.  As we finally rolled into our driveway, I knew we had a family time we'd always remember.  Thanks Wheelies  for working your wok n' woll  wonders!

minus thirty

I couldn't believe the freezing temps outside as I stepped outside this morning.  I wore layers upon layers, plus made sure Cyclone was wrapped up in a scarf too.  She kept trying to shake it off, but I think it helped.  She is getting used to the cold, only occasionally holding up a paw and looking mournfully at me, walking on her other three paws.  "Oh, get used to it you wimp!"  I was thinking, in my layers, boots, long underwear and mitts.  Nate and I walked past Maryland, on the way to school and noticed the blocked off street there.  Seven patrol cars, an ambulance and yellow tape.  We heard earlier on the news that the police had surrounded an apartment block, a man inside who had a gun.  When I got home, the radio announced lock down "at two schools" in the area....no names used but I knew John M. King was one...its just across the back lane from the action. 

I was there at the school yesterday, helping with a robot project in my son's class.  I love the learning and spunk, creativity and personalities.  I looked on at one girls attempts to follow the instructions and told her that she must have a mathematical brain to get it so easily.  "Oh, but I have a grade 1 math level!"  She's in grade 5 or 6.  I told her that she wouldn't stay at that level with her kind of skills I was seeing.  She told me she has someone in the neighborhood helping her to get up to speed.  I pray she does!  Knowing a little about her background, she comes from a transient, single mom home.  She comes to our church sometimes, had even been recently dedicated there with 2 other siblings and her mom.  She smiled and went back to her project.  That little look of hope warmed me inside, a 10-yr old defying the odds.  Something us grown-ups need to try a bit more at.  Defying the odds.

First Contact Part 4

I was sitting there, waiting....the Tuesday we had arranged.  Waiting for 45 minutes and Rachel didn't show up.  I was thinking, "I don't have her number!  I should have gotten her number! Maybe they are all sick, have H1N1 in hospital and here I am sitting here, I can't help...."  I had made this glorious appointment with the neato African lady (Rachel, from Sudan) who had intrigued me all fall with her long stride and white on black smile when we shook hands.  "Well, I'm NOT going to blog this failure" I thought miserably.  So I didn't.  It's now been about 4 weeks or so when I saw her last.  She hasn't come down that sidewalk for that long!   Did she move?  Felt embarrased about not showing up and is staying away, avoiding me?

I gave up looking for her.  This morning I thought I'd drift by the preschool she drops her kids at.  "One less person for me to be responible for.  Why do I feel like that?  Does God just want me to just pray for her? " So many questions, but not as many as at first.  Even if I saw her, would she be too embarrased about the missed appointment and just nod a 'hi' and move on?  Oh man, there she was!  I'd know those legs on any African plain, or Manitoba sidewalk!!   As we came closer, I saw her smile of welcome and happiness.  It's ok!  "Can I come now?" was her greeting.   "Of course!"  was my reply.  She explained she is now taking the bus because of the cold.  After walking home together, we had tea, her English isn't the greatest but she isn't shy.  Her dad was killed by militia in Sudan, his two wives and 7 children fled to Uganda and then Kenya.  I learned more about her, she heard how we were in Burma for 6 years and the military government there.  As we were chatting, it just floored me to believe she was in my home, drinking my tea....after so many weeks of praying, wondering.  She asked if we could pray before she left.  My whitey hands, in her dark ones.   We are sisters, friends.  And guess what?  She invited me to her home.  Cool.  But I forgot to get her darn phone number again!!