daily life as life goes on . . .

What an interesting sight!

As we approached the Clearview country cemetery, sunlight reflected off parked vehicles.  The dirt road had been winding through harvest-ready fields.  Now silhouettes of people were outlined on the crest of the hill.  The scene was reminiscent of movies of the Old West — a procession of people winding their way to the graveyard — the graveyard an abandoned piece of land in the midst of grain fields

The occasion was a memorial service for distant relatives of our family — Oliver and Dorothy Winger.  Their ashes were to be buried in a cemetery that would overlook their old farmstead.  Both died this past year — Dorothy in her late 80’s and Oliver in his early 90’s.  Neither had actively farmed for years, but their heart was always with the land.

The service included scripture, tributes, prayer and singing.  At the end of the service, all were invited to place a shovel full of dirt over the urns buried in the ground.  Drops of rain began to fall.  As I left the graveyard I looked around once again.  The church building has been gone for years.  Imagine the services held here.  You came for the day and disbursed for the week, to once again eagerly return next Sunday. 

My father had attended this church in his younger days.  I can almost see him as a young person eagerly greeting all those who came.  Fifty years ago he moved from the district.  Could he remember how to get to the church?  No problem — the memory is indelible. 

At the reception, Dad greeted old friends once again.  They no longer look 20.  They have aged in half a century.  He peers into their faces and sees a likeness.  They do the same.  The years evaporate.  And then those years return as my parents shuffle to the car.

Aging is God’s idea — to steal a phrase from Max Lucado.  Being old just means we will soon die.  The Christian’s hope?  As ones who have accepted Jesus, we will be resurrected in a better body and in a better place.  

But until then we will gather at cemeteries to mourn a loss and celebrate a hope.

Well, I’m looking into tomorrow!

This will begin a week and a half of vacation.  I guess I’m just vacating my work space than anything.  We will stay around town — I’ll do some woodworking.  Maybe a bit of visiting.

Tomorrow we will attend a memorial for Oliver and Dorothy Winger.  They both died this past year.  There roots were here in Kindersley and they will be interred at the Merrington cemetery.  Relatives are already arriving in town.  Some were at our church service today.

What runs through your mind when you think of holidays?  I suppose I’m inclined to consider moving my mind away from the cares of the daily grind.  Reforming my attitudes with a care free state of mind.  To me the place is not the important part — although I do enjoy nice scenery!  This is a time set apart from everything else that I do.

And so, I want to start tomorrow by not having to do some things . . . I’ll purposely abstain from visiting the church office —  one friend suggested unplugging the phone (that won’t happen!) — and maybe I’ll just slow myself down, take an afternoon nap and head to bed without worrying about the next day!

Sounds good to me!

So, this morning, I’m up and out cleaning up weeds.

As I approach a grassy area, I chop down the stalks.  I hear a buzzing sound — perhaps mosquitos or other winged creatures.

Other winged creatures, for sure!  Here was the old colony of wasps from last year.  They had transplanted themselves about 20 meters to the other side of the yard.  And they were a little mad I was disturbing them

One planted his stinger in the area of my upper lip, left hand side!  Now, last year I had experienced three wasp bites, and ended up at the doctors.  I guess I’m allergic.  So, after completing a bit more gardening, I hurried through a shower and ended up at hospital emergency.  My doctor was there doing rounds.  He looked.  I was swelling.  Prescribed two shots — Benedryl and cortisone. 

The expansion of swelling stopped in a few minutes.  But the swelling going down is another question.  Jill nixed an evening visit since I looked out of shape (I had visited two other people and gone shopping in between).  I also practiced speaking my Sunday sermon. 

I feel fine, but I don’t look so good!  Ought to keep people awake tomorrow trying to figure out who gave me a fat lip.  Oh well, some days your sermons don’t get complete attention!

The request for a musical rendering of seven songs arrived by phone. 

The occasion? A 60th anniversary.  The plan?  Include snippets of songs that were popular "back then". 

Let’s trace the request back. 

In 1994 we moved to Prince Albert.  A realtor by the name of Louise Tarasiuk had helped us look for housing (we bought privately).  Louise attended the church where I served as minister of music — she sang and we became friends.  As the years passed, she and her husband moved to Candle Lake.  There they attended a small church (and I mean small in terms of building and congregation size).  With no regular pianist, they asked Jill to prepare a piano CD of hymns that they could sing along with.  One of the ladies who attended the church heard the CD.  She talked to Louise.  The results of this enquiry?  Tuesday’s phone call!

She needed seven songs — specific parts of songs.  She needed them in two weeks time.  She needed them on a CD.

Jill immediately went to the internet and research the songs.  We downloaded two that would be suitable.  The other five?  Jill had enough expertise to be able to listen, and with chords or sheet music, play the songs.

That’s where I come in.  Having done some recording lately my experience allowed us to sit down and within three quarters of an hour — record the songs, master them (which means put them in order to record onto a CD), and then record a CD.  As I walked out of the house to an evening meeting, Jill listened to the CD to be sure the music was ready to go.

Now, less than 48 hours from the time of request, the CD is ready!