Grace is Overrated

Do that thing update -- When progress is slow

2012-02-17T09:44:00.000-05:00

This post is part of my do that thing series. For previous updates, in handy reverse chronological order, click here.

~~~

I've been working on one particular project that I can't wait to show you. In my mind's eye, it's something really special. Only, it's not finished yet.

It's a new journal. A pocket journal that you can take with you wherever you go. It will be simply made and staple bound, with a limited selection of bright covers, but on the inside, oh the inside, it will be filled with some of my best doodles and prompts yet. There will even be a new category of prompt, one that you haven't seen yet, one that will nudge you even closer to your goals.

I have made it so easy for myself. One page per day, I tell myself. I can do one page per day. One page per day and I'll be finished in, like, a month, maybe two at the most.

Except that I've been working on this project for more than a year. I'd say it's about half-finished.

It's Friday today, and I look back on this week, a week punctuated by sick days for both girls, a day-long meeting outside my city, an afternoon commitment, a volunteer commitment, a couple of appointments, a longer-than-intended-but-totally-worth-it lunch with a friend, dinners to make, baths to run, a couch to pass out on when the kids are finally asleep, and I see that I've only opened the file twice and never even came close to finishing one page.

I won't lie. There's a measure of dread here. That I'll never see this through. That I just can't do it.

And then there is the thought that this is life. And progress is slow. And that's no reason to give up.

Valentine's Day Crafts

2012-02-13T16:36:00.000-05:00

If you follow this blog on a reader, you'll see that I've already half-published this post. I hit the wrong button and the post went up long before it was ready. That's the first time that's ever happened here, but I suppose it was bound to happen at some point. At least there weren't any first-draft bad words. :)

If you saw the draft version, you might have seen that I have not strayed from my usual post-writing protocol.

Anyhoo, what I meant to write, which I didn't quite get to before prematurely hitting the publish button, was that we've been working on crafts for Valentine's Day. Right at the last minute, of course. But they've turned out to be rather sweet, I think.

These little butterflies (inspired by this post at Skip to my Lou) are headed for my four year old's kindergarten class. Except it's not called kindergarten at her French language school; it's called maternelle. Which I just love.

The paper we chose totally reminds me of spring. Next we'll work together on adding all of her classmates' names.

My nine year old wanted to try something a little more ambitious this year, so after we saw these hearts at the Purl Bee she decided to give sewing with felt a try.

She drew her own heart and decided to sew only the bottom, leaving the top open for goodies.

I just love the look of hand stitching and I think my daughter does now, too!

As a general rule, I don't have a lot to say about the merits of Valentine's Day, but this year, I don't know, so far it has been a real treat!

Hope your 14th is lovely.

hugs,
Christie

Do that thing update -- Skill building

2012-02-07T17:45:00.000-05:00

This post is part of my do that thing series. For previous updates, in handy reverse chronological order, click here.

~~~

A happy byproduct of settling on one major goal (i.e., growing the blog) is that it helps me to focus in on the skills I'd like to acquire or improve upon in order to reach that goal.

Right near the top of a very long skill-building wishlist is learning to draw. I've long wanted to expand my ability to create on paper and, yet, I've often felt limited by the perception that I can't draw. I suspected that learning to recreate bits and pieces of the real world in a reasonably realistic manner would improve my approach to my journal pages. So I signed up for a beginner class at a local art school.

All of a sudden, after just a few lessons, the world feels so much more interesting. When I'm looking at a wintry scene outside my window or at an everyday object on the table in front of me, I can really see it -- its edges, its volume, the way the light hits it. It's a total creativity boost. Which is true, I think, of learning in general; it presents the world in ways we may not have considered. It offers us perspective, wisdom, possibility.

Anyhoo . . .

Here are two of my first attempts at drawing from the actual 3D world -- something I thought I was not capable of doing just a few weeks ago.


Part of the tree behind my house. (The object of this exercise is to draw the spaces between and around the thing you see, rather than the thing itself.)

Paint tubes.
(Here, you start with a painted board, which is then covered with graphite. I erased
and sandpapered off most of the graphite to try to reveal the shapes of the tubes.)

(The process behind both drawings remind me of that old joke that asks, How do you carve an elephant? and answers, Just take a big slab of stone and remove all the parts that don't look like an elephant.)

To my eyes, both pieces are full of mistakes and missteps, but they have given me a level of confidence that I still can't quite believe.

Thanks to a wonderfully talented and supportive teacher, I know that with a lot more practice, I'll be able to incorporate a new skill into my work here.

And that takes me one step closer to doing that thing.

What about you? Are you learning something new these days? Has doing your thing changed your perspective, even a little bit?

hugs,
Christie

Do that thing update -- Fear and indecision

2012-02-03T09:41:00.000-05:00

My sister and I met up in Toronto last week for an appointment to have some foreign documents certified. (Sounds rather intriguing now that I see it in writing, but I assure you it was quite administrative in nature.)

Anyhoo, we were walking side by side and I was listing all of the supporting documentation I'd brought with me: a copy of the email confirming our meeting date and time, just in case they didn't have us in the system; extra identification, just in case one piece wasn't enough; a copy of the email confirming the charge for certification, just in case they tried to charge us more because I'd noticed when reviewing the website that the service we needed carried a range of charges that hadn't been mentioned in the original email.

On and on I went, until I looked over at my sister and noticed that she was looking at me as only a family member can -- like I'd finally gone right around the bend.

"Yeah," she said. "I didn't bring any of that. You're hilarious."

And that, right there, has always been the difference between us: she rarely considers the what-ifs, let alone worries about them. Me? I'm all about the what-ifs. She skips happily along, ably managing the rare crisis that presents itself, while I trod a little less happily behind her, perpetually crouched in full crisis alert mode, carefully planning my response to every conceivable (and usually, unlikely) eventuality.

Which tends to mess with my ability to focus and to move decisively forward.

Which also brings me back to Wednesday's post.

Jamie approached me last year and very sweetly asked if I'd consider creating a themed page for a baby shower she was planning for a friend. I agreed. It sounded like a fun challenge and it gave me the chance to determine whether my drawing and writing style would work as a card, which was something I'd been thinking about for a while. Jamie was up for a card, too, when I suggested it, so I made it up and sent it off.

Shortly thereafter, Jamie threw a truly lovely shower for her friend Natalia and generously included my card in one of her posts about the shower.

But even before her post, I started to worry about the what-ifs. I worried about what would happen when Jamie wrote about my card.

And before I launch into it, can I just let you know that I'm quite nervous about the remainder of this post? This is the stuff of fear and indecision and I'm not sure how much to reveal. What's fair to say and what's not? Possibly I'll say too much. Or maybe it's no big deal. All I know right now is that I really need to write about it. To sort it out. As you probably know by now, trying to sort things out is what I do.

I've written about this before, not in great detail or with particular clarity, but I've struggled with the decision to offer my printables as free downloads. Was it a wise decision? I really don't know. I went into this entirely by feel. When I started Grace is Overrated, I had no readers and no subscribers. Its growth to date is directly attributable to my journal pages and your amazing support. I am so grateful and happy to continue to grow into this space and I am proud of the work I've done here.

And yet, I struggle with the possible expectations I've created. Not necessarily actual expectations, mind you, but the ones I've created in my own head. Sometimes, I feel that since I've been offering pages for free download all along, I must continue to do so. Please know that this is my issue. No one, not one reader, has ever suggested such a thing. But I worry that I have created that expectation and I lose sleep over what will happen if I make a change. On the other hand, I worry that I have already given too much away.

Somehow, creating the baby shower cards amplified that concern.

On top of that, I totally stressed over what to do with the baby shower cards over here on this blog. From my perspective, they're a one off. They don't really fit with my other work. But I have a zillion ideas for how to proceed from this project to a whole bunch of new and exciting things I'd like to create for the shop.

Except when? In my spare time? (Hardy, har, har.) After sending the cards to Jamie, I began to feel this overwhelming sense of urgency to move forward, to keep up the momentum, and yet . . . no time. So how did I deal with it? By avoiding it. Of course.

Ultimately, I couldn't see the baby shower cards for what they really were: a fun project. I worried the process into a chore, into something to be avoided, and I left Jamie in a difficult spot in the process. Her readers were asking her whether the cards were available for download and, thanks to me, she had no satisfactory answer.

So. Where does this leave me? A little exhausted, truthfully, and very much trying to learn from this experience. I am now actively planning for the future of this blog and my work as a whole. In the process, my most immediate goal has to be to stop avoiding the tough questions and the difficult conversations. It scares me a little, but it's really the only plausible way forward. Just gotta keep putting one foot in front of the other, right?

How about you? I'd love to read about your things. Are you moving forward? Are you making (or possibly avoiding) the tough decisions?

hugs,
Christie

Baby Shower Printable

2012-02-01T13:54:00.001-05:00

Oh, you guys. This printable gave me angst. Actually, it would be more correct to say that this is a project in which I created a whole lot of unnecessary angst for myself. From which I am trying to learn.

Tomorrow, or possibly Friday, I'll write about the angst in a do that thing update, but for today, I'd like to show you a fun, printable, fill-in-the-blank, baby shower note card that I created for the lovely Jamie who threw a fantastic, beach-themed baby shower for her friend Natalia and who, by the way, has also been wonderfully gracious in waiting out my many months of indecision regarding this project.

Jamie used the printables in place of a guest book. After her guests had completed their cards she punched holes in the corners, tied them together with ribbon, and gave them to the mom-to-be as a mini-book of best wishes and baby predictions.

The version I sent to Jamie was a diy, colour-free version, but for today's post I've added a colourful option as well.

Front view

Inside view

Back view

The diy, colour-free version

If you find yourself in the planning stages of a baby shower and would like to download my fill-in-the-blank baby shower card, you'll find it here (the colour-it-yourself version) and here (the colourful version).

Just one more quick note -- The printable file contains a two-page pdf. To create the card, print the first page of the pdf on one side of your cardstock and the second page on the other side of the same sheet of cardstock. Then fold in half and you're done!

hugs,
Christie

New Journal Pages

2012-01-27T15:28:00.000-05:00

Still doing that thing.

Today's it's a whole bunch of new journal pages. Actually, it's two new journal pages, but it takes me so long to put them together these days that it feels like a whole bunch.

The first is our January journal page, the links to which will follow after a short, yet riveting, introduction complete with photos.

This time around, it was all about the quotes.

It is always true for me that once I start to talk about the things that feel impossible, they no longer feel quite that way. Once I name my obstacles and give them a description, I can start to formulate a plan. Which is how I am trying to view goals for this blog and my little shop. They are not impossible. (They only feel that way sometimes. Until I talk them out with an unsuspecting friend or relative until the wee hours of the morning. And then I feel better. And I'm sure they do, too.)

Anyhoo, the entire page looks a whole lot like this:

and you'll find it here (border-free) and here (borderful and colour-free) and here (borderful and colourful).

As for the second page, it looks a little something like this:

This page is for sale in my shop and it, too, contains a quote that I adore,

Say what you know, do what you must, come what may. ~ Sofia Kovalevskaya

This one strikes me as a rallying cry of sorts. It gives me a sweet shot of courage to continue forward and boldly face the future.

I hope it does the same for you!

hugs,
Christie

Do that thing -- Progress report

2012-01-16T14:24:00.004-05:00

Last week I wrote a post about my grand plan to do that thing. It was almost a post devoted to the notion of thinking big and taking a leap, until I realized that I didn't have a whole lot of room in my life for leaps. Instead, I reasoned that doing that thing wasn't so far removed from taking a leap, but with a little more flexibility and (hopefully) a sense of humour. For me, doing that thing is growing Grace is Overrated, a goal which will have to find its home in between all of the other, mostly non-negotiable, things jostling for my time and attention.

I mentioned that I'd like to write about my progress as I do that thing, and that I was hoping you'd join in by sharing your progress with some of things you've decided to do this year . . . you know, in between all of the other things you're already doing.

Continuing the conversation

Then, the day after that post, a lovely coincidence presented itself: Blogger updated its blogs to allow threaded commenting. Which was the grooviest of coincidences because one of the prongs in my three-pronged plan to do a better job here at the blog was to improve communication. And now I can reply directly to your comments. Woohoo! Not that I couldn't reply before, but it was cumbersome and the replies had to be written as new comments and I tended to shy away until it was too late.

It is perhaps a small change in the scheme of things, but it has me feeling quite optimistic about being able to stay in touch. It's a bit of a risk because I go through periods in which I really struggle with communication, but my ultimate goal is to reply to as many comments as possible. I would like you to feel that if you comment here, you will be heard. So far, I've managed to keep it up for exactly one post, the first in this series. But that is a good start.

Focusing on the present

And on the subject of starts, which I've been Googling lately, I found one article that has really stayed with me. It was written by Leo Babauta of Zen Habits and boils down to his four line algorithm for change. It's a plan that is absolutely reasonable and doable and no doubt very effective when followed conscientiously. He wisely suggests starting small, changing only one thing at a time, being present and enjoying each activity, and being grateful for each step taken.

These are all things that I try to work on in alternate spurts from day to day. But, by far, the most sneakily challenging step is the third one, being present in each activity. It sounds so easy, doesn't it? So rational, even a relief to have only one task on which to focus. Yet, in my experience, it requires steel-willed discipline to remain present, to filter out the distractions or, worse yet, the foreboding sense that I should be doing something else, something better, something more productive instead.

So today, as I work on new journal pages for the blog and the shop, I'm wondering, when you're doing that thing, how do you stay focused on the job at hand? What are your tips and tricks for keeping doubts and distractions at bay? And on a happier note, what is that thing that you're doing and how's it going so far?

hugs,
Christie

Do that thing

2012-01-11T13:50:00.000-05:00

The original title of this post was Take The Leap. I had a plan, you see, and it involved thinking big, for once, and taking a momentous leap.

I thought about it at great length and wrote draft posts about it and researched it and then, a few days ago, decided it wasn't for me.

Which was a huge relief. Because the one thing I couldn't figure out while planning and scheming was how to clear enough space in my life to take a big leap without crashing headlong into my other longstanding, and quite precious, commitments.

So I decided on a different title for this post instead.

Do that thing

Yep, do that thing.

You know that thing you've been meaning to do? Or have always wanted to do? Or are already doing, but haven't quite finished yet? That's the thing I mean. It's the thing that's at or near the top of your list; you think about it when you're in traffic, or in line at the grocery store, or just drifting off after a really long day. It's the thing that you're totally going to get to someday, when the time is right, which just might be today, but if that's the case then it'll have to be really quick or divvied up into smaller, more manageable piles. But you're going to do it, nonetheless.

I like to think that do that thing has a sense of humour. It doesn't get bent out of shape when plans have to be put on hold for a sick child or a friend in need. It fully embraces the same active, forward moving momentum of a leap, but it doesn't leave you hanging in mid-air when things don't go as anticipated. In short, it feels possible, achievable.

The new plan

For me, doing that thing means growing Grace is Overrated.

I know what I need to do, but I'm faced with a restrictive time budget, as we all are, so I'd like to take a more deliberate approach than I've taken in the past. For me, this will involve writing about the process because I think it will give me a sense of focus. I've made a little badge that I'll put up on the sidebar with a link to all of my do that thing posts. It looks like this:

I'm hoping that you might like to get involved, too, and tell me about that thing that you're doing -- that one forward-moving, soul-satisfying, now-is-the-time thing -- in between all of the other not-entirely-negotiable things you're already doing.

Growing Grace is Overrated is what I'll be doing and it has three components:

That little project that's been in the works here for the past year and a half. This is the year that I'll post journal page 52, a year's worth. Except that I don't want it to end there and I don't think it will, but I'd like it to evolve. And I think I know how.
The shop. There are two new journal-related categories of items I'd like to introduce.
Communication with you. This is something I should be so much better at by now. I have a plan for this aspect of the blog as well, which involves being more open, less self-conscious, and more conversational. It starts with this post.

To sum up

What have we covered? Hold off on big leaps for now, do that thing instead, grow the blog, keep the printable journal project alive and kicking, develop new items for the shop, communicate better.

It's still a lot, but I think I'm up for it -- not as a momentous leap, but as an evolving, one-thing-at-a-time, just-do-that-thing-already endeavour. I'll keep you posted.

hugs,
Christie

Shop update - new journal page

2011-12-20T15:56:00.000-05:00

It still feels so very brand new, adding a new item to my little shop. Now there are two journal pages for sale there.

I've just added this new page in each of its usual variations. It includes prompts about looking ahead and looking back, a to-do list with a loving touch, and the ever-present lightning round, which asks, among other things, snowflake or ray of sunshine?

There's also a new quote by Robert J. Flaherty that I absolutely adore . . .

There's a saying among prospectors: 'Go out looking for one thing, and that's all you'll ever find.'

Mr. Flaherty's dad was a prospector and so was he before becoming a filmmaker, so I guess he'd know!

Even though it's not quite how he might have meant it, I think I'll spend the rest of this holiday season looking for joy and happiness and I wish the same for you!

hugs,
Christie

A cover page -- finally

2011-12-13T16:15:00.000-05:00

It feels like another piece of the puzzle. Another step toward what these journal pages might become. And I have you to thank -- you, who have emailed and commented, very sweetly suggesting that I get a move on already and make a cover page for goodness sake, like, how hard could it be?

Okay, so nobody worded it quite that way, but I often wondered myself, what was the hold up? Why the creative block where the cover was concerned? And now that it's done, I can say that I quite enjoyed the process and feel quite happy and grateful to have had your gentle nudges in the right direction. The only thing left now is the usual trepidation when posting a new piece of the puzzle . . .

I really, really hope you like it.

As always, you'll find the usual variety of downloads here (border-free and colour-free) and here (borderful and colour-free) and here (borderful and colourful).

hugs,
Christie

P.S. I also re-jigged the blog a little over the weekend. If you have a sec, I'd love it if you'd stop by the home page and take a quick peek!

One new journal page, two announcements and one update, but not in that order

2011-12-04T19:34:00.001-05:00

Announcement No. 1 (with rambling preamble)

One question I am asked on a fairly frequent basis is whether there is a cover page hidden somewhere among the increasingly long list of journal-related posts on this blog. I usually answer the question depending on how optimistic I feel. If I'm feeling particularly optimistic I might mention that a cover page is definitely on my to-do list (which it is) and that it's only a matter of time before I get around to producing one. If I'm feeling overwhelmed by life in general (my default state) I write instead a sadly garbled paragraph in which I mention the to-do list, but then add that the chance of ever getting that far along said list is exceedingly remote. I never say never, out and out, just varying degrees of no and never.

Then, a few weeks ago, I received another very sweet email on the topic and I must have been feeling exceptionally optimistic that day because I committed to producing a cover page. In the near future. Like, by next week or so. Ever since, I have wondered how, on earth, it's going to come together, but come together it will. Possibly by next week. Fingers crossed.

The Update

Thank you so much for your comments and well wishes for my daughter's surgery. With a huge sigh of relief, I'm pleased to report that the surgery went really well and that she is recovering beautifully.

The New Journal Page

Today's page looks at a few of the things on your to-do list that are no big deal and one thing that, actually, come to think of it, is kind of a big deal . . .

There is also a bit of room to think about beginnings and endings and ongoings . . .

This is what most of the page looks like, with a blurry backdrop of bucketing-down rain . . .

And you'll find today's page here (without a border) and here (with a border, but no colour) and here (with a border and a splash of lovely colour).

Good.

Now on to that final announcement.

Announcement No. 2

Announcement No. 2 is actually a link.

To my new Etsy shop.

Yep.

I did it.

And now I must exhale.

There's even a new shop banner and everything!

And things for sale. There are also things for sale. Well, there's only that one thing for sale right now, but if you know me at all, you know that I could perhaps best be described as tentative.

Here is a photo of my first page for sale:

And here is how I envision it working:

As I have said before, I have no plans to stop posting free printable journal pages here at Grace is Overrated. I'd like to post them at the rate of about one per month, with about being the operative word here. Sometimes more than once per month, sometimes less. I'd also like to take a run at selling my work, tentatively. So what I plan to do is post free pages here and add supplementary pages over at the shop. I also have future plans to expand beyond single journal pages, but progress, while encouraging, is slow.

The pages for sale at the shop won't be posted here as free pages. So, if you'd like the opportunity to add extra pages to your collection, then consider stopping by the shop, but if you'd rather just hang out with me here at the blog, that works too!

For today, I'm posting one page here and one there. I hope you'll take a look at both!

hugs,
Christie

A quick update

2011-11-10T19:11:00.001-05:00

Tomorrow is a big day around these parts. Our nine year old is having surgery. It's fairly minor, but will nonetheless require several days' hospitalization. Unfortunately, our local hospital does not perform the type of surgery that she needs, so we'll be headed to a larger city, which complicates our plans. I had hoped to have a journal page posted by now, but it just hasn't come together and time is not on my side this week. As soon as we move beyond this hurdle, I'll be keen to get back here and post a new page.

Before I go, I just want to thank you guys, so much, for reading along during the last four posts. Your comments, as always, touched my heart and made me feel that writing about the experience was a good thing. How to express myself here is still very much a work in progress and I am forever grateful for your support and kind words.

I'll be back soon.

Hugs,
Christie

A fresh look around . . . the end, for now

2011-11-09T11:29:00.000-05:00

Continued from parts 1, 2 and 3 . . .

Yesterday, I spent most of the day with my new friend. We visited the public library, where we registered her for a card and she happily borrowed several thick novels. We sorted through her food bank hamper so that I could identify a number of items she's never seen or tasted. We did a little supplementary grocery shopping, we called up the Canada Revenue Agency to ask a few questions, we stopped by a government office to ask a few more questions, we attempted to access a government web site for some account information and determined that password she'd been given was just not going to work, and we filled out some forms. There is no end to the forms.

There was a time, not so long ago, before she and her children made the move from the motel to her little apartment, when she needed me almost every day. We'd blithely embark on one seemingly simple task and three additional and essential corollary tasks would present themselves for immediate action. My youngest was undergoing the usual bouts of new-kindergartner flus and colds at exactly the same time and the husband had to stand in for me on a couple of occasions, pushing back meetings so that he could stay with our youngest for a few hours until I could relieve him. The youngest even came along with us once or twice, upset and disoriented.

At the time, every task on our interminable list of to-dos seemed urgent and long overdue. It felt as if there was no individual support, other than me, to get her through this phase. Yes, there were many, many agencies from which we could seek assistance, but they appeared not to be connected, geographically or otherwise, in any meaningful way and there was certainly no guide or manual that set out the priorities or the appropriate settlement steps or the prerequisites to the steps.

One settlement agency, for example, helps with employment, but not housing. Another helps with housing, but not the income assistance required to pay for the housing. One agency offers financial assistance, but requires a bank account first, and there is no one to help with that, even though my new friend had never had a bank account and had no idea how to choose a bank, acquire an account or make deposits or withdrawals. And there were the usual hefty service fees associated with even the most basic accounts. When I explained to one customer service representative that the fees were excessive, that they were taking food out of the mouths of my friend's children, he agreed to waive the fees for three months. Would that have happened if I hadn't been there to advocate? I just don't know. And you know we'll be back there in three months, begging for an extension to the fee waiver.

I won't lie. There were moments when I wondered how, exactly, this was supposed to work. She never asked for help with anything other than the most fundamental human needs -- food, shelter, clothing, a source of income. And yet, there were moments when I resented the imposition. It's a hard thing to admit and even harder, I suppose, to accept in myself. But there it was. And of course the resentment was immediately followed by the complementary emotions of guilt and shame. How could I, for one moment, feel imposed upon, me with my car and home and winter boots and freedom from persecution and torture?

Ultimately, it was good to sort out all of those feelings. The bad along with the good, the generosity built into the system and the inequities. There is no doubt that I have had the great privilege of learning and growing in this and of extending exactly the kind of help to a family in need that I would hope to receive if the circumstances were reversed, as they easily could have been, but for accident of birth.

She's managing quite well on her own now, still volunteering at the drop-in centre while her children are in school and while she waits for permission to work. From here on in, I think we'll probably get together about once a week for errands or coffee or to fill out forms. We've begun to talk about how we can turn her experience into something from which other newcomers can benefit. There is still work to do and in the coming weeks, when the immediate pressures hopefully begin to subside, we'll get to work on that.

I promise to keep you posted.

A fresh look around . . . part 3

2011-11-07T13:08:00.000-05:00

Continued from parts 1 and 2 . . .

After our second meeting, I googled refugee process in Canada. I wanted to know how it actually works, when a person decides not to return to her homeland, but to present herself to an immigration officer instead. There was plenty of detailed information on the process, but what stuck with me were words like persecution, torture, death.

The bottom line, it seemed to me then, as it does now, is that a refugee is a person seeking protection. This is the sentiment I've carried around for weeks now and even though my new friend is older than I am and her kids are older than mine and she patiently gives me advice on home remedies for my girls who are both battling unending colds, I have found myself feeling protective of her.

When we'd encounter an official or customer service agent who was less than helpful, dismissive or even rude upon learning her status, I'd think, don't you realize that this is someone in need of protection?

Much of what she needed in those early weeks had to be accomplished, or at least initiated, by telephone. She is fluently trilingual, but English is her third language and she has a moderately strong accent. Phone calls tended to be difficult, not only because of the accent, but also because she was occasionally confused by the instructions she was given. Things are done very differently here.

I started making calls for her. Before long, I had a little introductory speech. Hello. I'm calling on behalf of a friend who is new to the country. Her name is . . . My English is a little better than hers. Then I'd ask for whatever she needed or leave a message. We left lots of messages.

In addition to the phone calls, I drove her places. We crisscrossed the city, again and again, from one government office to the next, to pick up forms, to drop off forms, to ask for forms she should have been given weeks ago, and so on and so forth. We visited potential doctors' offices, possible apartment buildings, the new landlord's office in the building she eventually chose, the kids' schools, community centres, food banks, employment service agencies, settlement service agencies, various church charities, the bank, the hydro utility -- all of which involved multiple visits and so very many forms.

And what did we learn?

We learned that ours is a giving community. Early on, when I knew nothing of the agencies that exist to support those in need in my city, I worried that it would be impossible for a family with absolutely nothing to find sufficient food, shelter and clothing. And yet, she and her children now live in a small, sparsely furnished apartment. There is food in the cupboards and warm winter clothing in the closets.

During those first few days, the agencies we approached seemed impenetrable. At first, we went to the wrong places and asked the wrong questions and filled out the wrong forms.

We learned very quickly that it is essential to ask the right questions. Even if we didn't know the right questions, we kept asking questions, everywhere we went. Sometimes, we got an answer we didn't expect -- news of a service no one had previously mentioned; a way to avoid a fee she couldn't possibly afford; a benefit her children desperately need.

We learned that while there are some out there who couldn't care less about helping persons in need -- even if, in fact, it is an integral part of their job description -- there are also extraordinary people who go above and beyond the call of duty every single day. And they do so in an environment in which the need far outweighs the resources and the people in need far outnumber the people who can help.

We learned that patience and faith are part of the process.

We learned that she might just be okay in all this, even though there is still a long way to go.

***

There is one more post to come, I think, on this subject. I'd like to describe a few of the people we met and write a little about the lasting impact of the past month. Then we're back to journal pages. I'll post number 48 on Thursday.

A fresh look around . . . part 2

2011-11-04T12:32:00.000-04:00

Continued from yesterday's post . . .

I picked her up the following week right where we'd left off, at the drop-in centre. She'd asked that I meet her inside, as she had an appointment that might take longer than expected. I parked the car and entered via the back entrance, where a group of gravelly voiced men were gathered, smoking and laughing and swearing. One apologized for his language as I approached and held the door for me.

Inside and to the left, tables and a food service area. To the right, more tables, the washing machines against a wall, and computers, two of which were occupied by men playing solitaire and Bejeweled. Around a corner, a carpeted meeting area with two large tables. My new friend was seated at one, her back to me, speaking softly to a nurse practitioner. No privacy really and nowhere for me to sit and wait, unannounced, but a few feet away from her in a row of empty chairs. My ears honed in. She was crying. There was despair in her voice; it hadn't been there when we first met, or had it been there all along and I failed to notice?

Her children missed their father. Her daughter cried every night for him. They'd been in the motel too long. The children hated it there. The apartment search had thus far been fruitless. She had her own medical issues to manage and they were becoming overwhelming. The nurse practitioner was sympathetic, murmuring reassurances in soothing tones.

They stood after a few minutes. She turned to leave and quickly wiped away her tears when she saw me. After a few words of nebulous encouragement, the nurse practitioner was on to the next patient, while we checked on my new friend's laundry. Wet clothes and no available dryers. She'd dry them at my house, I announced, and we bagged the clothes and ventured out into fall sunshine.

Had she eaten? No. Alright then. Let's start with lunch. Her eyes filled up again and I searched my purse for the Kleenex I keep handy for the kids' runny noses and sticky fingers. I suggested a nearby cafe that serves an African curry I thought she might like.

At lunch we talked about her home country, a place I'd searched on Wikipedia the night before. She told me of its topographical beauty. We spoke very little of her present situation while we ate. She was not fond of the curry. Too much sauce. It stung a little, not being able to offer her a slice of home. Why did the chef have to put too much sauce? Hadn't she been through enough already? Impossibly, I had hoped that lunch would be perfect and make everything all better. It was going to be a long road to better.

After lunch, back at my house, her laundry spinning in the dryer, we reviewed the list of approved apartment buildings she'd been given. If memory serves, there were six buildings; they were owned by the only landlords in town willing to take on social assistance recipients.

She is a refugee claimant, you see, who came here with nothing but her children and a suitcase of clothing. Near daily laundry and the struggle to be seen and heard are her realities.

To be continued . . .

Taking a fresh look around

2011-11-03T17:49:00.000-04:00

It began simply enough.

Several weeks ago, I signed up to volunteer at a community event -- a short morning commitment with an additional request that I pick up a fellow volunteer who needed a drive. That is how it began.

I picked her up in front of a tiny motel that I'd never noticed before, tucked away as it was between a succession of auto body repair shops and parts suppliers. Stupidly, I thought she must own the motel. Because why else would she have me pick her up there? It didn't occur to me at all that she might have taken up temporary residence there with her three children in a miniscule, nearly windowless unit in the basement next to the laundry facilities.

We chatted a little as we worked together during the event and I learned that she had arrived in Canada only a month before. I thought that she might like a tour of her new city or perhaps someone to share a coffee with from time to time, so I offered both of those things and we agreed to meet up the following week.

I dropped her off that day at a drop-in centre near the downtown core. It's a place I've driven by a zillion times, but never paid much attention. She volunteered there, she told me, and as she took hold of the straps of a bulging, oversized grocery bag that she'd brought with her and entered the building, it never occurred to me that not only would she spend the afternoon helping others, but that she'd also be using the community machines inside to wash the laundry stashed inside her bag and the telephones to continue her search for an apartment for herself and her children.

That was a month ago and in the days and weeks since, we have embarked on a journey to build a new life in a city that I've lived in for six years, but haven't fully seen.

To be continued . . .

Life outside the comfort zone and a new journal page

2011-10-06T20:00:00.000-04:00

I've been stepping out of my comfort zone lately.

All of the experts say that it's good for you -- growth and personal development and such -- and I don't disagree, but you know what else? It's exhausting.

The transition back to school, for example, has been a rocky one.

Have I ever mentioned that my daughters attend a French language school? They do. The husband's mother tongue is French and we decided early on that French would be a major part of their education. It sounded awfully romantic when the children were babies. I imagined a seamless transition from one language to the other and back again. Now that we're there, educating our daughters mainly in French while living in an English-speaking province, it is more of a challenge than I expected.

I am not fluent in French, although I am getting closer every year. And yet, every time I walk into my daughters' school, I leave my comfort zone at the threshold. I struggle to understand teachers and school staff (because I think it's important to work at communicating in French and they very kindly oblige me) and I struggle to carry on meaningful conversations with teachers and other parents. Switching to English feels like giving up and I hate that feeling.

This year, on top of the usual challenges of managing two languages, tackling new math problems and sorting out the homework assignments, my oldest daughter has encountered some interpersonal challenges. There were moments last month when I was sure my heart was breaking. Or at least I thought so at the time because it involved -- you guessed it -- stepping outside of our comfort zones.

My go-to mechanism for handling conflict is denial. Very mature, I know. This is a practice I am not keen to pass along to my children, so we are instead working on facing challenges head on. Head on. So far this school year, that has meant making awkward telephone calls and working with the school to find careful resolutions. Every effort has been met with amazingly understanding and productive responses, and all is well and good, so why such angst, Christie? Get a grip.

And then there's the work I'm doing behind the scenes to turn this place into more of a going concern. Flailing around in the dark is how it feels, even with how-to books and articles and feedback from trusted sources. Much hand-wringing, all of it self-initiated and likely unnecessary, but the wringing of hands continues nonetheless.

All of which is to say that working on this week's journal page was a welcome relief, a happy return to work that feels natural and uncomplicated. I hope you'll agree, dear friends.

You'll find this week's journal page here (border-free) here (border-full and colour-free) here (border-full and multicoloured).

Happy Thursday, friends!

My long lost About and FAQ pages

2011-09-28T15:26:00.000-04:00

After much hemming and hawing, not to mention deleting and rewriting, I have posted two new pages up there under my header -- a long overdue About page and an FAQ page.

Many of the articles I've read on improving one's online presence insist that an About page is a crucial component of one's website. Strangely, I almost never read other bloggers' About pages. I generally prefer to get to know them through their posts.

That said, an About page obviously makes really good sense. How else will anyone know what you're all about, why you blog, what motivates you? The one small challenge I encountered while working on the page was that I seriously struggle with articulating the answers to all three of those questions. I really enjoy dropping by here to tell you about things on a week-to-week, case-by-case sort of basis, but summing it all up is something I find exceedingly difficult. The reasons for writing and creating here keep changing and evolving for me. I can't seem to pin myself down.

Also, the About page is yet another foray into proper blogging and each step I take into that arena forces me to confront the fact that I am, for very long stretches at a time, not a good blogger at all. I am easily overwhelmed by family and other commitments, a personal failing which is not offered as an excuse, but hopefully as an explanation for periods of unresponsiveness. There have, in the past, been a handful of emails that have gone unanswered, which is truly unforgivable. Please know that I am striving to improve in that regard. Also, I would like to be the kind of blogger who responds to every comment on every post, because I so appreciate that when I see it on other blogs. Again, I am sorely deficient in this regard. I can only offer that I am working on it and that I recognize the time and energy it takes to write to me or comment on my posts and I am grateful for both. On a lighter note, it occurs to me that I have become far more understanding when my own emails go unanswered. I imagine a busy life and terribly short days and precious moments experienced offline that cannot be interrupted or diverted.

The FAQ page was marginally less daunting. I feel I was able to answer a number of the questions I receive on a regular basis, such as which program I use to create my pages, what to do if you have difficulty downloading the pages, and whether there is one place to download the pages all at once.

I also skirted a few questions that I know I should answer, but don't quite have the words for yet, including a few slightly nuanced copyright issues I've encountered. I have to deal with them, but I need to find just the right way of communicating my answers.

At some point, I'd also like to take on the question of why I'm posting my journal pages as free (but still copyright-protected and for personal use only) downloads. As it stands now, my answer doesn't even begin to address issues of business model or future use or why, in the heck, would you do that? But as naive and amateurish as it may sound, "Because it feels right," is my best interim answer. I love posting my pages in the manner in which I've been posting them. Love it. Doodling the boxes and borders, mulling over the prompts, posting the pdfs, reading your feedback, knowing that these pages are enjoyed and awaited and, for some, have made a small difference -- all of those things have me transfixed in the now, without a clear vision of the future. I should think about remuneration, I know I should and I will; in fact I have been. And things around here will begin to change in the near future, but the free (but still copyright-protected and for personal use only), downloadable journal pages will persist. Well into the foreseeable future and beyond.

Speaking of journal pages, I've been working on number 47, which should be ready early next week.

See you then, friends!

First sick day

2011-09-16T16:43:00.000-04:00

Poor little puddin'. It's only her third full day of school. Seems a little early to me, but such is the life of a new kindergartner.

Looks like we'll be taking it a little easier than planned this weekend. Plenty of snuggling and kiddie crackers.

Hope your weekend is a good one, friends!

New Journal Page

2011-09-14T15:19:00.000-04:00

Hmm. I'm afraid that I'm at a total loss for words. I can't seem to come up with any sort of appropriate introduction to today's new journal page. Quite honestly, I think I left if all on the page this time. That seems to be happening more and more. I work happily on each new page, but when it comes time to present it to you, the words escape me. It has become quite personal, the whole process of creating these journal pages, I think. And sometimes it's difficult to articulate the way I feel about them and about you, dear readers, who have kept me going all along. And now the process involves you more than perhaps you know because your feedback and your comments and your very kind messages are always on my mind while I work. It feels really complicated; and probably it isn't at all, but today it is.

So perhaps for now, I'll just leave it at that, with a few photos taken under overcast skies and the links below.

You can find today's page here (border-free) and here (border-full and colour-free) and here (border-full and colourful).

Until next time, friends.

Back from beyond

2011-09-09T10:55:00.000-04:00

Remember that moody shoreline I was telling you about?

We've just returned from a lovely visit to the Bay of Fundy. It was our first family vacation in a decade and well worth the wait. Mostly we hung out near Fundy National Park, where there were long stretches of beach to be explored while the tide was out and freshly made sticky buns to be eaten when the tide was in.

We took in a little sea kayaking with my sister and her son . . .

And hiked past views like this one . . .

And, as I believe is required by law whenever one visits a coastal fishing village, we took photographs of fishing boats at low tide . . .

(Just to the left of the Lady Thibault's lettering up there, you can see the faint outline of another name that has since been painted over -- Yvette. Hmm. I bet there's a story there.)

We even had a brief visit from the tail end of tropical storm Irene as she moved northward. We were very lucky to witness only a bit of a storm surge and howling winds, but they gave us some small sense of what those in her path may have had to endure.

All in all, though, it was pretty nearly perfect.

And now it's time to find our routines again. Our youngest is set to start school in a few days and I am happily working on a brand new journal page, which I plan to post next Wednesday. I'm also hoping to introduce a number of changes I've been dreaming about for months -- things like a new name, a new look, an about page, an FAQ page and maybe even, if I really get my act together, a little shop with a brand new journal I've been working on. Wouldn't that be fun? I hope you'll stay tuned!

Happy September, friends!

A twist on the mid-August journal page

2011-08-16T14:06:00.002-04:00

This is quite possibly my favourite journal page so far. It's a little different from previous pages and for that reason I haven't assigned it a number.

This month I was thinking about those gallery walls that people have in their homes and how much I love them and how much I love doodling frames lately and, on a completely different note, how nice it is to have a record of a specific day and how I am in awe of day-in-the-life doodlers.

It all sorta came together like this:

In my mind's eye, I see this day-in-the-life page as one that you can intersperse with all of your other pages when you have one of those days that you want to remember specifically with a few quick thoughts.

If you'd like to record a day in the life of you, you'll find my mid-August journal printable in the usual varieties -- plus one! -- here (border-free, colour-free) and here (with border, but no colour) and here (with colourful border) and here (with far too much colour, colour everywhere, coloured the heck out of this one.)

One last thing. I'm going to be away for a couple of weeks on a little road trip to the North Atlantic with my sweetheart and our kiddies. Can't wait to dip my toes in that steely blue-grey water along a rather moody stretch of shoreline. Can't wait to watch our girls explore some new, wide open spaces. I don't expect that I'll have much access, if any, to the web, so I'll be out of touch (even more so than usual) with plans to return to this space in the beginning of September.

Happy Tuesday (and waning days of summer) friends!

Mid-July journal page

2011-07-15T14:29:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when I'm colouring the border on a new page, getting it ready to photograph, the joints in my knuckles will start to ache and I'll realize that I'm gripping the marker with ridiculously unnecessary force. Ditto for the pen on my pen tablet when I'm drawing new borders.

Sometimes when I hug the kids, I'll realize (or they'll tell me with a yelp) that I'm squeezing too hard.

Sometimes when I'm thinking about new prompts or searching for quotes, I'll realize that I'm clenching my teeth together so hard that my head is beginning to throb.

Holding on pretty tight over here. Not wanting any of it to slip away before I've had the chance to breathe it in, write it down, snap a quick shot, and give thanks for every moment, every smile, every kind word, every connection.

Love this place and so happy to be back with a new journal page. Now if I could only get it to sit still for a second . . .

There we go. Sort of.

You'll find the mid-July journal page here (border-free and waiting for your creative embellishments) and here (with a colour-free border, waiting for your colourful embellishments) and here (with a colourful border and still plenty of room for your creative extras).

Happy weekend, friends!

Moving right along . . .

2011-06-29T15:42:00.002-04:00

It's a fairly unremarkable photo, but it was a Saturday morning and they were baking together (one of her absolute favourite things to do) and that's her artwork and her sister's, up there on the wall behind them, and there's just something about the way she's looking up at her dad. That's what it's all about, says my heart.

That's why I've stopped by today, after yet another lengthy absence. To talk a little about the pace around here. Slowed right down, hasn't it? Every once in a while when I read up on what I'm supposed to be doing, blogwise, the primary rule always seems to be to post regularly and often. That makes perfect sense to me. The bloggers I love post regularly and often and it's a treat to be able to follow their lives and projects.

I can do that -- post somewhat regularly -- for short stretches, but deep down, that's just not me. I'm up and I'm down. Quiet then chatty. Settled into a happy routine with the little ones and then thrown completely off for days at a time. It's rarely smooth sailing in my world, a fact to which the husband can attest, and for better or worse, my blog is a reflection of that.

And so, on top of my own odd quirks, we are now embarking on two summer months, during which my time and energy, like so many of us, will be pulled in all sorts of wonky directions.

In journal page news, I wanted to let you know that it's going to be a slow summer. I plan to post one new page mid-July and another one mid-August.

Beyond that, changes are coming.

Our youngest starts school in the fall and I've got a few plans for this space -- a new name to take for a spin and new design formats to add to the tried and true. Until then, there will be much splashing and laughing, and sunscreen and bug spray, and family and friends.

See you in a few weeks with journal page 45.

Happy Wednesday, friends!

New journal page

2011-06-08T13:31:00.002-04:00

Some weeks, making a new page is a lovely, seamless, happily creative experience. Other weeks? Not so much.

I've always loved that bit of advice you hear from successful creative types: if you wait for inspiration, you'll never get anything done. Or in many more words: if you want to create on a consistent basis, you must sit down, be disciplined, and get to work, regardless of whether inspiration is sitting on your shoulder whispering into your ear or, more often than not, off partying in Vegas and refusing to return your calls.

I believe this advice to be absolutely true. It's the butt-in-seat, focus-on-the-task-at-hand approach that always comes through in the end. Except, sometimes it takes a little longer.

So, without any further excuses, today's page begins with a quote that reminds me that it's just fine (even desirable) when things don't work out exactly as one expects . . .

There's also a spot to think about the little things that make a big difference . . .

The full page looks strikingly like this one here . . .

and you'll find it here (without even a hint of a border) and here (with a hint of border, but absolutely no colour) and here (completely and oh so colourfully bordered.)

Happy Wednesday, friends!