Monthly Archives: August 2006

They sting like crazy.  Or maybe they are just stingingly crazy.

However you say it, hornets/wasps are not fun.  A week or so ago I was mowing the lawn and I felt a bite on my leg.  The culprit disappeared.  My leg felt a little numb around a nickel sized area.  That passed within a day or so.

Yesterday I was again bitten.  Mowing the lawn.  By the same swarm.

This time I found the nest.  A hole burrowed into the ground was constantly experiencing incoming and outgoing flight patterns.  They buzzed more fiercely as I approached.  Needless to say I backed off.

Backed off all the way to the store.  Where I purchased some hornet/wasp spray.  Tonight I will seal up their hole and hopefully take care of the threat.

But this morning the bite was very itchy.  And the swollen area increased in size.  So much so that I ventured to our doctor’s office.  An unusual thing for me.

How unusual, you ask?  Well, in the year I have been here, I’ve never been to the clinic.  The search was on by the receptionist to find any previous files.  She checked the  file room down the hall.  Apparently there was a Ron Baker, but the file was in the “archives’ in the basement.  She wandered down the stairs and returned with a thin file.

I had lived here from 1976 – 1980.  My previous file contained one page — probably just one visit for insurance purposes.  Four years and one visit?  That is basically the ratio for my doctor visits over the intervening 30 years.  You will not find a lot of paperwork on me at doctor’s offices.

Now the file has two pages. 

Amazing what hornets can bring back into being!!

Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of the passing of my brother.  He was a unique individual whose grace of life recalls laughter and loyalty.  This past week I have been reminded of others in my family line.

The July issue of a magazine called ALife contains an article by my brother-in-law, Tim Barton.  A story well written – with heart (the characterstic of good writing is the ability to reach through words to the centre of a person).

Today I was cruising the net and came across the class schedule for Wycliffe College – the Anglican Seminary in Toronto.  My brother, Murray Baker, is teaching a course on Greek there this fall.  Always knew he would amount to something.  His hope is in this coming year to finish his doctoral dissertation.

Now, if I were to begin on the rest of the family you’d be here all night.  I find that we all are unique.  Not one of us the same.  Some traits appear the same.  Bakers have a certain quiet tenacity.  Coopers have a certain artistic flair. 

So, in the end — when we are at the end — what gets engraved on our tombstones?  That’s where a good walk in the cemetery is always insightful.  The phrases end up being short – there’s only so much room on the granite!

What would I put on my rock?  “He loved Jesus and served those around him.” 

I used to think that the passage of time would change my priorities — seasons of life and all that.  But I sense my naive 20 year old enthusiasm is the same as my 50 year old mid-life settledness.   I could fill the epithaph out more —  talking about my wife and family, my work with the church, my devotion to God, my desire to make the place I live a better place than when I first arrived.  

But all those life experiences are to be found chisled behind that short phrase.  Reminiscent of another phrase contained in a book I read through as often as I can — “Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, soul, mind and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself.”

In past years I have enjoyed and participated in the game of Rook.  At one point I found myself becoming way too competitive.  So I backed out for awhile. 

Recenly I’ve returned to the game.  Hopefully I’m a little more merciful and discerning in how I play.  Tonight we were with some friends.  As we surrounded the table we began the game.

When I am becoming competitive I become silent as I concentrate.  So I watched that I did not withdraw from the table banter and kibbutzing which is probably more important than the game.

Nevertheless I did participate in one or two very good hands!!  And loved every minute!

Tonight my wife and I headed downtown to the post office.  Now, remember, this is small town Saskatchewan.  We can walk downtown to the Post Office!  A whole six blocks!!  At 815 pm.

The mail was merely flyers.  So we stood in the post office.  Read about Canadian Tire sales.  Blow up beds for company.  115 piece drill sets.  And other essentials.

Across the street — now 8:15 — the pharmacy is the only shop open on main street.  We venture in to buy a pen.  I guess it was a bit of a venture — we’re the only ones there!  The cashier looks bored.

On the walk home we run into a senior.  I’ve gotten to know him a bit this past year.  A few moments of talk and we wish each other well.

Down two more blocks and we see a friend.  She has just renovated her back yard.  We stop in for a few moments and discuss trees and rocks and decks and patio lights.

Now 9:15 we head up the last few blocks to home.  The sun is receding and solar lights are populating the lawns. 

Not a record — but 1 hour to walk 12 blocks.  I’ll check my pedometer and see if I could go any slower!

For all you American readers – an approximate George Carlin quote (or so I’m led to believe!):  Save gas.  Kilometers are shorter than miles, so use kilometers next time you go for a drive.