Multi-Day Mono-Juice Feasting – Healing Journey Day 7

Journal:
Wow! Today marks a week. After suffering with that awful – weird – stomach pain/aching last night, I am happy to wake up feeling good again. I slept solidly through the night, only quickly waking up once and not remember falling asleep… haha. My body was tired. What more can I say.

I woke up happy and ready to take on the day. I had a dentist appointment at 9:00 am so my morning was dedicated to getting ready. And what did I find this morning that had to go away before I went to the dentist? My tongue covered in white again. Yuck. If this really is toxins leaving my body, then my body was very toxic. Of course I’m just saying this because I’m not a professional on the subject, but the stuff looks and tastes disgusting. I don’t even have to look in the mirror to see if it’s there. I can taste it. It’s not good. So before the dentist started getting too inquisitive, the tongue had to be scraped off and brushed. I haven’t really told anybody around me about my healing journey. I’d rather them see the results and ask themselves, just not the yucky results like a white-covered tongue.

After I got dressed, I did my usual check in the mirror. Believe it or not, I had to stop myself. I’m wearing yoga pants with a tank top and a light cardigan-type thing over top, and for once in absolute months, I did not have to adjust my pants to hide my stomach just the right way. Yes, clearly I’m still overweight, but my stomach fat is not as bloated as it used to be. It almost looked flat from a head-on view. I have the worst self-image so this is a huge thing for me. When I weighed my lightest a few years ago – coming in at 129 lbs – I still looked in the mirror and saw fat. I liked my face at the time and the leanness around my neck/collarbone, but I carry my fat in my stomach (it’s the last to go) and so I couldn’t help but still see how fat I was in the mirror. Having bad self-image is a plague, it really is. But becoming vegan has helped me realize I need to focus on my health first and then everything else will fall into place. And this journey has only helped solidify that way of thinking. So today, I celebrated… with apple juice.

Yes. Today is day 2 of 3 that I am having only pure apple juice.By doing this, I am being easy on my body as it adjusts to having an energy source available again. My body doesn’t have to work on figuring out how to digest many different kinds of sources, it only has to figure out the one making it a much easier process. There’s no confusion, my stomach acids can settle in one place to digest the one ingredient. It’s the absolute easiest way you can come back from fasting.

My dentist appointment went well. I hate getting cleanings done. I really do. Every single time they always ask me if I floss, but it honestly is a part of my nightly hygiene routine to floss. I know that teeth can also have hereditary issues, so perhaps I’ve inherited my father’s awful teeth. But either way, aside from getting more regular cleanings, I’m not sure what to do. If you have any tips, definitely leave them below.

Aside from the regular cleaning, they reviewed a tooth that was supposed to be on watch from two years ago. I had completely forgotten about this. Underneath a filling from 10+ years ago, I had a spot forming that they couldn’t confirm two years ago as it would have required them to take out the filling to inspect. It was very small. Today, according to my x-rays, the spot has gotten a little bigger. Not hugely, but it is bigger. It now can be confirmed as a cavity. Again, since it’s under my filling, it’s going to require taking out my old filling, fixing it, then refilling again. Now, I’ve been looking into healing cavities naturally, and I believe it can be done. But when the dentist told me that if it grows more that it will get to my root (and showed me on the x-ray) that it will require a root canal and not just a filling. I have to admit, a root canal scares me. So against my better wishes, I have an appointment again for next week to have the cavity fixed. I had really bad teeth when I was younger (no doubt related to the way we were allowed to eat) and had many cavities all the time, so having one cavity in two years that honestly already existed before isn’t so bad. It’s progress. I’ve only been vegan for 1 year and even so did not eat healthy all the time. So now I know better what to do and I honestly can’t be eating any healthier than I have been this past week and it’s going to continue for quite some time.

I didn’t do a whole lot after the dentist appointment. I did go grocery shopping with my housemate/friend. The possibility of buying so much food was there, but yet again, I made it through with no mishaps. I was also invited to another free corn boil to which – this time – I declined. Not because I didn’t want to be tempted, but because I knew it was going to get cold again at night and I just didn’t want to be outside for a few hours in the cold. Really it was just personal choice. Plus, the main purpose to be there is to eat and if I’m not going to be eating, then there is less of a reason to go. This really was an event for the students of our school (the older ones that I don’t teach) so it wasn’t like I was denying a true social event with friends.

What did I drink today? As I mentioned above, apple juice again; the same kind I drank yesterday. However, I only consumed about 3-3.25 L compared to the ~3.75L I drank the previous day. I do have a sneaking suspicion that the quality of this Simply Apple juice is not quite the same as the organic ones I bought and may actually be the reason for some extra not-good feelings in my stomach. Time will tell.

Review of Symptoms:
Stomach still acted up throughout the day, always getting worse in the evening. Acne seemed to have a little less “tiny bumps” than yesterday. Otherwise, it seemed to be around the same. Stomach was looking a little less bloated. Tongue was covered in white “gunk” again that needed to be scraped.

Weight at the end of the day = 179.8 lbs (down a total of 9 lbs in 6 days)

Total Calories = 1326 (99% carbs, 0% fat, 1% protein)

Looking at the World Blindly

This world is one of deceit. This world is unfortunately filled with fakeness. This world cannot be taken for face value.

When I think about growing up, I think of food. Food is a huge part of life that nobody can deny. Without food, life eventually stops. There are family foods that nobody can recreate. There are traditional foods associated with different ceremonies and celebrations. There are comfort foods that are there for you when life goes downhill. And there are “healthy” foods that we are all told we need.

I used to be a dairy-aholic. In my family, the more cheese the better. Take a block of cheese out of the fridge, tear a chunk off, put it back and be merrily on your way. That was my upbringing. A pound of bacon for breakfast? You bet! I was oblivious to the truth.

As I grew up and got to where I am now, I have realized how blind I really was.

When we listen to the things people have told us without investigating for ourselves, we are leaving our entire lives in their hands. When we watch dairy commercials that promote the goodness of dairy and yet never look into the fact that some of the biggest dairy drinkers have the worst arthritis, we may end up the same way. The way dairy is designed causes inflammation in our bodies. The extra calcium actually leaches calcium from our bones, not into it. Milk cows have drastically cut their lives down because of the constant pregnation, something we fight to stop in third world countries because of the deaths and complications it has caused human women. Baby bulls are sent to slaughter because they are worthless in the dairy industry and treated as such from the moment they are born. Calves are pulled from their mothers within 24 hours of birth so as not to drink all of the milk that can be sold to humans. The dairy industry is disgusting.

And yet it’s not just the dairy industry. So much of what we are told is a lie. The media skews what it wants us to see. The meat industry will not let you into their slaughterhouses to see the abuse. The scientific studies are often revokable and untrue. Industries pay off publishers to post results that they want people to see. Our world is treacherous and ruthless.

So my question to you is this: Are you going to keep believing everything that you see? Everything that people tell you to believe? Or are you going to find out for yourself?

I Wonder If I Argue Too Much…

Sometimes I take a minute to sit back and reflect over what I do, whether it’s the direction my life is going in, or the way I handled a situation.

Recently, I’ve started thinking about my part in online discussions or arguments. In the past, I was the child who never spoke out. It was so bad, I would even have my younger sister go to the counter of a restaurant to get something they forgot to give me (even something as small as ketchup!).

When I first became (seriously) Christian, it was the same way. I was too scared that I didn’t know enough to speak out, or that I would be ridiculed because of information I didn’t have the answer to.

When I became vegan, it was the same thing. I didn’t feel I knew enough to speak out because I wasn’t the most “educated” or didn’t know “all the right answers”.

But as I continued to watch everyone else, I realized that you will never know everything. And besides, the best argument you have is your personal testimony, no matter whether it’s veganism, Christianity, or anything else. Nobody can argue what you’ve experienced. They can only argue facts and somehow even opinions (though I think everyone should be allowed an opinion).

The very first argument I ever felt brave enough to enter was between an atheist and a Christian. I couldn’t stand the picture of Christianity that the Christians were displaying that I felt compelled to go in and clear up the awful view. No, I was not trying to convert the atheist, I simply was explaining things she clearly had questions about and had been given a bad taste and picture of previously. By the end of the hour+ long conversation, she actually thanked me, and though she said she would not be considering becoming Christian at the time, she thanked me for being so understanding and being patient with my answers while explaining things in a different light than she had previously been shown.

To me, that should be the point of an argument or discussion. It shouldn’t be to fight or to prove one side better than the other. Of course I believe Christianity is the way, but I’m not going to force it down other peoples’ throats. God gave me my freedom of choice, so who am I to take it away from others? I can only present information and leave it up to them.

The next argument I ever went in on was not the same way. In fact, I got told to go take a nap along with being called many names. My whole point in that argument was that you can love people without supporting their actions. For example, you can love your child without supporting their drug use. You can support them for the good things, show them outwardly love, and even include them in normal things. But when an action they are doing goes against your beliefs or causes harm to either them or others, you don’t have to support that action. In no way does that mean you stop loving that person. But the group, or at least some people in that group, couldn’t accept that. I don’t know if I didn’t explain myself well enough, but I was in that conversation for several hours. It came to the point that I understood Christians were not going to be supported in that vegan group, and I respectfully excused myself from the group.

I don’t intervene in everything I see on the internet that I disagree with, but when it comes to things that harm others, when it comes to peoples’ health, or when it comes to slandering Christians, I try to go in and paint a different picture. Some people are accepting, some people will never be kind no matter what you say. I’ve been called a heap of names and been criticized against sometimes it seems like anything I say. Even when I’m remaining as polite as I can and stating again and again that nobody has to believe the same as I do, and that I will respect what they believe just as I would expect them to respect what I believe. It is possible to live in harmony without believing the same things (just look at the conversation with the atheist and I). But for some reason, I’m finding more and more people who cannot leave it that way.

I had a fellow Christian follow one of these conversations and eventually tell me that I should just end my conversation because the others (the main of which was apparently Hindu) was just going to keep coming up with every slandering thing and continue saying the worst possible portraits of Christianity they could. I just found it so sad. Sad that first of all, someone had views like that of what can be the most amazing faith. I know a lot of Christians call themselves Christian while living a very different life. Sad that also, someone who was a self-proclaimed “vegan” that is supposed to be filled with so much love could be so hateful towards Christians who honestly had done nothing wrong in this conversation but speak of the original diet in the Garden of Eden (vegan diet!). But as the other Christian woman suggested, I quit responding, despite the fact I continued to get blamed for things and called names in further comments.

I think about that conversation, and I continue to think of how I could have done it differently, what I might have done wrong. But the thing is, in every comment, I approached it in a very much “my experience was…” manner. I didn’t say that her beliefs were wrong, and I never discriminated against her, even telling her that I would continue to respect her and her choices. I don’t really want to continue the conversation, and I won’t, even though it’s hard to know that my name has been continued on in the conversation very negatively. I just don’t get it.

It makes me think… is there a point to me joining in these conversations? Is there a point when I’m just going to be downgraded and slandered by so many people? But then I also think of the vegan community who promotes standing up for those who are voiceless. I do think if you’re passionate about something, you shouldn’t just remain quiet about it, whether through actions or words. So do I just hold back my passion now that I finally feel brave to stand up for people? I mean, Christians in some of these groups literally get POUNDED into the ground by others, called every name in the book, their faith literally ridiculed up and down. I guess I feel like just by saying something (though again, not in a forceful way, often in a soft, from experience type of way) that they at least know someone is in their corner with them. I’m not afraid of being Christian. I’m not afraid of being vegan. I’m not ashamed of the things I believe. So if I get called names, it really doesn’t bother me. I don’t get as “heated” about these things as clearly others do. Temper control is not an issue for me in these conversations and part of me wonders if that’s what makes some people so mad. I don’t swear, I don’t believe in calling people names, I’m not that kind of person.

I don’t know… is it worth it or is it not? I guess I have just come to a place in my life where I’m content… maybe even more than content. For non-Christians, I know they won’t understand this, but for Christians who have experienced God saving their lives, they will know what I’m talking about. I can honestly say I’m filled with the joy of the LORD which makes everything surmountable. Months when we have less income, I don’t freak out anymore, because when I had no idea how we were going to survive before, God provided the money. I’ve totalled 2 cars, one that I in no way should have walked away from, but God protected me. I used to be so scared to face my mistakes and of punishments I may receive, but through God I know I have the strength to face whatever comes my way. I use to be so OCD about making sure everything was a certain way, but now I’m ok if things change. Even at work, when a wrench gets thrown in my plans, I don’t care. I’ve learned that nothing can be set in stone, but whatever may happen, God always provides. There is honestly little that upsets me. And why wouldn’t I want others to know that same feeling? Can you imagine a world where there was no stress, no worry, no panic? Can you imagine how much happier everyone would be? Can you imagine the amount of stress-induced illnesses that could be prevented? How can people not want a life like that?

Again, I’m not trying to force my lifestyle and faith down peoples’ throats. I always approach it in a way that I can share my experience and they can make their own choices past that. If that’s so wrong, then I don’t know how any conversation can take place. So I don’t know… what do you guys think? Is it worth the interjection in hopes that two fighting groups can maybe be a little more understanding and live in harmony? Or is it just a waste of energy? Maybe I try to play the “peacemaker” a little too much… I don’t know. Tell me what you think in the comments below.

The Difficulties of Changing Grades

The title may not be quite what you are thinking. I’m not even going to touch on the fact of the extra paperwork that comes with switching grades, the hours of preparing for something you would have otherwise not had to prepare so much for, and of course the task of learning a new curriculum. All of those make changing grades difficult, but that’s not what I’m focussing on today.

Today was our first day of school, and as you’ll read in my next post, I didn’t quite have the start to the year that I had planned. However, for all the preparations I did, today is what shook me up the most.

A little background for those who don’t know, I’ve essentially taught grade 6 for the past 5 years. That whole pre-teen mentality is what I’ve become accustomed to and primed to deal with. I loved it. But with an expanding school and a new principal, some changes were made, and I was asked to take on grade 2. I’ve been wondering if I would regret it ever since.

Everything went well. To be honest, it went way better than I thought it would. Surprisingly, the grade two students actually listen better than the grade sixes… go figure! But, when I walk into the hallways, and I see my previous students, I see the students that I had grown to know over the last year in anticipation of teaching them this year (before my assignment change), I can’t help but feel out of place. I feel like a skeleton of a person, just doing the job because I know how to do it, but not because I’m actually supposed to be there. It’s weird. Even my previous students stopped me and said they still didn’t picture me as a grade two teacher… because I’ve always been grade six to them! It’s just a strange feeling…

As I said, the day actually went very well. But there is so much to get used to. Grade two thinking is on a much more basic level than the complex conversations we would have in grade six. It takes them much longer to figure out problems and what I could consider simple tasks than the speed and accuracy my grade sixes could accomplish. I have never really had to teach reading before, nor spelling on such a basic level. I was a little shocked and blown away with the amount of help I needed to provide the students while creating an “About Me” booklet. It’s just so different from what I am used to.

I had a minute to talk to last year’s grade 2 teacher who is now teaching high school. She mentioned that after her first day in high school, she missed the grade 2 class. For her, the change was the opposite of mine. She missed the love and hugs you get from the younger children, and the kindness they speak to you in. Whereas high school students are very standoffish and can be rude in their talk. It’s completely different for her as well.

Are you a teacher that has switched grades? Do you know the “out of place” feeling I’m talking about? I’d love to hear your experience below and even suggestions on what you did to feel more “in place”. I’m sure time will help, but any extra advice is definitely appreciated!

Debunking Car Sales: What You Need to Know!

I have come to learn that there are a lot of misconceptions in the world about car salesmen, so I’m here to fill you in a little bit.

#1: Salesmen usually only make a commission, which means no sales, no income. Which leads to #2.

#2: When you go in without an intention to buy, you are wasting their time to have a chance of making money for their families.

#3: You may think that every salesman is ripping you off, but here’s the deal. They only make 25% of the profit the dealership makes, which means, if you refuse to pay much over the wholesale price, that salesman is only taking home $250 or less. And when you calculate how many hours they spend with each customer explaining everything, taking test drives, dealing with you, taking you through the finance process, they really are not becoming “rich” off of those deals.

#4: Sales do not happen everyday. So put together the profits from above, mix with days that people don’t show up for the appointments they said they would, plus a dead day at the dealership. Sorry, food is not produced from love alone. Most salesmen have kids at home just like you do.

#5: If you ever wonder why salesmen can get upset, it’s because people do crazy things. In my husband’s short time in sales, he’s had people come in and ask to go for a test drive just to get dropped off somewhere so they didn’t have to pay for a taxi. He’s had countless people CONFIRM their appointments with him, and never show up. He’s had a ton of people even put deposits on vehicles, and then go out of contact for weeks, often before saying they are no longer taking the vehicle or fighting for a lower price than was agreed on. He’s had people yell at him for giving him their name before going on a test drive, although it is typical for the dealership to know who you are before they let you drive tens of thousands of dollars down the road. He’s had people come back and yell at him for not noticing things (including a ripped seat…) when they drove it off the lot. He’s had people yell at him for not being approved for financing because they haven’t paid their bills in six months. I mean, seriously people… you can’t be a jerk to people and expect them to be happy all the time. It doesn’t work that way.

#6: There are times that dealerships will let vehicles go for less than what they paid for it. Now, before you go jumping for joy, remember the profit we talked about above? How much do you think the salesmen are bringing home for their families if the dealership isn’t even profiting off the vehicle? Yeah… think about it.

I know there is probably a ton of things I’m missing, but this is a good start. Car sales is not the typical way I’ve thought of it before. I’m that wife at home with our three dog-children. There is not even a chance I could be a stay-at-home person for the very facts I mentioned above. It’s so easy to think that you’re the one being wronged all the time, but unless you truly understand how it all works, you’ll never realize what you’re doing to the people behind the scenes.

Are there rich car salesmen? Of course there are. Some people have enough money that they never bat an eye at the sticker price and will pay whatever the dealership originally asked for the vehicle. And depending on the vehicle, that can be a decent profit. But that’s not how most customers are, and that’s where the problem lies.

So next time you buy a vehicle, sure, ask for a lower price, but don’t beat them over the head until your salesman has to go home and tell his kids he’s made almost no profit again, and he’s upset because someone gave him a hard time for doing his job yet again. Please think of the people you interact with. Your purchase is their bread and butter on the table. Remember, no sales mean no money. Love is important, but it doesn’t pay the bills.

Supporting Your Husband – It’s Not Easy

Supporting you husband… this is not always an easy topic. Sure, when you’re getting along and all is right in the world, it is easy to do things for your husband – happiness just works that way. But what about the times he’s upset you? What about the times he seems so selfish and careless towards you or doesn’t take the time to appreciate anything you do? It’s not so easy then… That’s when bad thoughts start seeping in… “Don’t appreciate me doing your laundry? Do it yourself!” “Do you have to drink out of 10 glasses a day? Do you own dishes!” “Leave your stuff all over the house? I quit!” “This is the third year you’ve done nothing and ‘forgot’ our anniversary? Why are we even married?” Ok… so hopefully it doesn’t get to the point of the last one, but you get the point.

I can honestly say I’ve had my fair share of these kinds of thoughts, but I know it’s wrong and really fight against them. However, I’m human and still fall short of my respecting goals at times. So what do I do?

Well, lately I’ve been returning to the Bible. I cannot tell you how much I admire the women I’ve seen that honestly seem to respect their husbands no matter what. I mean, you can never really tell what goes on behind the scenes. But those women who clearly put their husbands first inspire me so much! So the Bible, the ultimate tale of love, is where I turn to. And you know what happens? I begin to realize how I need to act again.

My husband and I had a so-so night last night. Parts of it were good, but he’s struggling with a few things and handles it differently than I would. So of course, I want to set him straight, to tell him how to fix things and how to do it “my way”. Even now as I’m writing this, that’s starting to sink in… it’s my way. Wow… I’m trying to make him do things MY way. Me. It’s all about me. Ugh… sometimes reality really results in humility. He’s not me.. He shouldn’t have to do everything MY way. Ugh…

Anyways, after going out for supper, we came home, and he wanted to nap before going to the gym because he was exhausted. Of course, both him and I knew this meant he probably wouldn’t get up to go to the gym, but I didn’t make a deal about it because I’d rather him feel better than not. I was not as exhausted, and woke up at 1:30 a.m. I had the option to stay in bed and sleep, or realize that he doesn’t have any clean work shirts for tomorrow, and that would really start his day off badly if he did not have any clean work shirts to wear. He’s in the sales business and looking good is part of the job. So instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I quietly snuck out of the bedroom, careful not to wake him up, and came downstairs to do a couple loads of laundry. Now, he didn’t treat me like something great last night, and quite frankly, there are some nights I’m glad he goes to sleep so we can wake up and start a new day, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I still love this man and I married him for a reason.

I think too many of us forget that part. We get too caught up in the stresses of life and whether we want to admit it or not, neither our partners nor us are perfect. We just aren’t. We don’t always treat each other like we should. Jobs get in the way. Responsibilities get in the way. Bills and money issues hugely get in the way. And that’s even without raising children in the picture! But it doesn’t hurt to take a step back every once in a while and truly think about why you even married that person in the first place. Make a list of the things you have liked/still like about that person. Focus on the good, and not the bad.

My husband works long hours to try and support me. He took a risk changing careers which hasn’t wielded all the results he expected it to right away which is a lot of his stress lately. I know he deals with it badly because he wants to be the breadwinner, he wants to be able to get me anything in the world that I could want. I so admire him for that. And to be honest, I don’t just admire him for that, I know that he puts in more hours than anyone else he works with and I believe that he will get to the level he wants just because he tries so hard. He’s incredible that way. He also was brave enough to even take a risk, one that I don’t think I would have had the guts to do. He’s not afraid of bugs and handles them for me, but not like anything you’re probably thinking. My husband taught me a dear lesson in life, and that’s the fact that just because bugs are annoying, they still were given life as a gift too. My husband will NOT kill bugs unless he needs to. If it’s just a housefly in our house, he will catch it and release it outside. That goes for moths, larger bugs, etc… He humbled me. He is also extremely trusting. I know a lot of men who handle all of the household finances, and the wives essentially ask for permission to use certain monies and never get involved with the family’s finances. It’s the opposite for us. I’m a little OCD when it comes to money because I’ve had to support myself when there was little to support myself on. Literally, a $1 bag of Crispers from the discount store would be a meal because that’s all I could afford. So when it comes to debt and bills, I need to know what’s going on and need to see progress being made. My husband trusted me enough to hand over that responsibility. It took stress off of him when we became a united household, and I get my ability to do what I need to do. I mean, seriously, how many men would do that? Even writing these few things renews the appreciation and love in my heart for my husband. He may have some habits I don’t like, but that’s not what matters. What matters is we are here in life and love to handle the situations life throws at us together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So ladies, and husbands if you’re reading this, stop complaining, stop griping, stop being so negative towards each other. Understand that you do not have to agree on everything. You can agree to disagree and be happy. Just sit back and remember why you fell in love in the first place, and never stop putting each other first.

Mark 10:9 – “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Proverbs 21:19 – “It is better to live in a desert land Than with a contentious and vexing woman.”

Colossians 3:18 – “Wives, be subject to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.”

Ephesians 5:22 – “Wives, be subject to your own husbands, as to the Lord.”

Proverbs 14:1 – “The wise woman builds her house, But the foolish tears it down with her own hands.”

Ephesians 5:33 – “Nevertheless, each individual among you also is to love his own wife even as himself, and the wife must see to it that she respects her husband.”

Titus 2:5 – “to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored.”

And of course, read Proverbs 31 for the great description of a woman in Christ.

I hope this helps you all! If you have any marriage advice, I would love to hear it below. ❤

A Maritime Way of Life

Recently, I have returned from my vacation visiting my family in New Brunswick for almost two weeks. I love returning home. There truly is no place like home. ❤

Going home is so important to me each year because it’s a break away from my daily “big city life”. Home, is a wee bit of redneckville mixed with a slow-paced existence. It’s the perfect combination.

In New Brunswick, it is totally and regularly possible that you may be the only car on the highway at any given time. Let me repeat that: At any time, you may be the only vehicle on the highway. That NEVER happens in the city.

Famous Hartland Covered Bridge. The longest one left standing!

New Brunswick is full of trees and rivers. Not just any trees either. New Brunswick is called the “Picture Province” for a reason: it has the most BEAUTIFUL variety of autumn colours you’ll ever see. And since the forests are everywhere with gorgeous lakes running through the province, the view is breath-taking. One day my mom and I even played “tourist” in our own province because it was such a beautiful day and the scenery along the drive overwhelmed us. It’s amazing when your own province can cause those awe-inspired feelings inside of you. I can tell you certainly the city does not do that for me at all.

In New Brunswick, nobody ever seems in a hurry. I’m sure people may be rushed for appointments or work in the morning, but honestly, you never feel a sense of rushing around. There seems to be so much time, so much laid-backness that you don’t get that crazy time-strapped feeling. Can you imagine life that way? I think it’s definitely something I used to take for granted when I lived there. I would give anything not to feel that way here in the city… the city that never has enough time for all that you need to do. And maybe that’s just the point…

In a smaller province, you don’t see as many people working themselves to death. New Brunswickers know how to have fun and how to get work done in a smaller amount of time. Families have time for families. Now, granted, a lot of people are on welfare because the economy is not the greatest, but even the people who do work still get together in LARGE groups of friends and spend time with their families every day. I can tell you as a big city teacher, this is something I don’t see often.

Now, why did I put LARGE groups of friends above? Well, when you live in smaller places, you know more people, and generally, in smaller places, all of the people get together. If someone’s having a party at their house, feel free to stop in. It’s an open door policy. Everybody knows everybody, and if you don’t know someone, know that you will be going through the stages of figuring out whether you’re to be trusted and accepted in the group or not.

It truly is an open door policy. People have less places to be, and more time to be home. So if you feel like visiting anyone, there is rarely a chance you need to call before going over. In fact, people LOVE when you stop in to visit. All the time I just go over to whoever’s house and knock on the door and never once will you be turned away unless of course someone is busy which of course, as stated above, doesn’t usually happen. And even if they are busy, they will stop to talk. It’s just the way they generally are.

Four-Wheelers (also known as ATVs or Quads) and snowmobiles are accepted methods of transportation and are regularly used. Due to the economy in the Maritimes, New Brunswickers use four-wheelers and snowmobiles as cheap methods of transportation. Most places in the country areas or small towns are accessible by these methods, and thus save on money. Gas is also more expensive in NB so it saves on gas as well. They are also a form of recreation. I basically grew up on a four-wheeler; it was the first real thing I learned how to drive on my own. I LOVED when my entire family would go on day trips. We’d make a stop at the local convenience store for gas and some snacks (all 8 wheelers of us) and then head out for the day. Most of NB’s railways have been dug up, so the trails that are left are super easy to travel on, not to mention the off road trails we’d venture out on. In the city, you don’t even have a chance to do this unless you have a truck to haul your machine outside the city to some acceptable place. In NB, go out into your back yard and begin.

There is rarely a person who will walk by without saying hello to you, nor a car that will drive by without waving at you. The reason for this? Most NBers are just friendly people. Definitely not a city thing…

Snowmobile parking lots truly exist in the winter.

New Brunswickers aren’t worried about the newest and greatest things. They could care less if they owned everything designer or if their house was brand new. In fact, that’s one thing I love about New Brunswick. They maintain houses that are hundreds of years old, some that are still cared for and lived in by families. You don’t get sick of seeing the same house after the same house as you do in the city. You actually get to see real architecture, large mansions of houses from people of old, molded tin ceilings, stained-glass windows, etc… The houses are simply beautiful! And even some houses that aren’t as grand that are 50+ years old are still loved and lived in, in New Brunswick. People (mostly) have respect for items. It’s not a “Oh I’ll just wait until the next one comes out… ” or “I need a new _________ that’s bigger and better.” They simply live for what they can afford and don’t lay around complaining about what they don’t have. I mean, here in the city, people complain, there are massive line-ups for items to come out the next day, people are throwing away perfectly functional items just because they’ve become “outdated”. It’s such a breath of fresh air to go to somewhere that people aren’t completely consumed with consumerism. People know and can appreciate a good find at the DollarStore. People know how to hunt for bargains that will keep them going. Brand new cars? Aside from my mother, my step father and myself, I can’t really tell you anyone else in my family who has ever bought a new car. They always buy used because it’s cheaper and it gets them by. I love the whole mindset. In fact, in this recent trip, my father quoted me this, “I don’t look at things as how long I can afford them; I look at things as how long can I keep them.” Amazing.

It’s so much more family-oriented. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but it’s rare for a family not to spend regular time together. And I’m not talking just the parents and kids, I mean aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, etc. Everytime I go home, I spend the majority of my time visiting relatives because that’s who I grew up with and was close to. My great aunts and uncles, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my parents and siblings, my great grandmothers, everyone. I grew up in a close but large family, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. From what I gather from most of my students, many of them rarely see their extended family. In fact, it’s usually only for family reunions. I love that I don’t have to wait for a reunion. I just get up and go, knock on the door, and then sit for hours talking. It’s seriously the best.

I’m sure I could keep writing on this topic and all the things I love about the Maritime life. And of course, these won’t apply to everyone. But being born a small-town, Maritime (NB) girl, I still feel this way about my province every time I go home. In fact, my dad commented how I still call NB home, but that’s because it always will be. I love the way of life there and it will always be my breath of fresh air.

Living With A Car SalesMan

So, as many of you know, my grandfather was a car salesman. You think I would be used to the hours one works. But I don’t think I was quite as prepared as I should have been.

My husband has been a car salesman for almost 2 months now. And I’ve learned a few things along the way.

#1: Your working hours are not your set working hours. If you have a potential customer come 1/2 hour before your shift is over, you can be there up to another 3 hours just to possibly sell them a car. Sometimes, you will be working 13 hour shifts unplanned. Your scheduled hours in no way dictate your actual hours.

#2: There are ways to avoid extra hours, but that may include having a lower income. Car salesman get a commission off of the vehicles they sell. However, if you don’t complete the whole sale, delivery, etc.. by yourself, you have to split your earnings with the other salesman who helps you. Even if that simply means handing over the keys when they officially come to pick it up. The smallest thing can cause half of your money being given to someone else, so yes, you’ll want those extra hours to make sure you receive the whole income.

#3: Your working days are not your set working days. And even so, the days are extensive. Just like you can be working extra hours, you can also be called in extra days. However, even going by the scheduled days, my husband averages 4 days off a month… essentially 1 day a week! That’s not much for time off at all. People in the oilfields get more time off than that.

I don’t regret my husband being a car salesman. He really enjoys it. In fact, today he is starting at Dodge where I knew he should have been all along. He loves Dodge, has only ever owned Dodge trucks and a Jeep (with the exception of the Audi we owned once). I think he’s where he’s meant to be.

But with things you love often comes sacrifice. And unfortunately for us, it’s some time. But hey, that gives me more time to clean, work, and blog… right?

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

Day 9

I woke up several times through the night last night, each time feeling like I was ready to get up and start my day. Something is going on with my sleep and somehow I need to get down to the bottom of it.

I had a later breakfast this morning, well after I got to work. I drank 1.75L of pulpy orange juice.

The juice ended up being both my snack and lunch. I was handed back my students’ PATs to grade for myself, something I had not done in past years. If you can imagine my students writing stories and newspaper articles for 2-3 hours each, and then me trying to get these graded… it’s taking forever!

As an afternoon snack, I ate my last mini red banana, two small tangerines, and two small apricots.

By the time the day was done, I was drained. And yet I looked at my grading table (overloaded), and I looked at the PATs that were only half-graded, and my pile of ESL papers I was returned to also grade. There’s no way I should leave it like this. So I spent an hour and a half finishing the PATs, grading Bible books and Spelling tests. I even managed to get Handwriting books graded. But after that, I left knowing my mental capacity was seriously about to break.

Meanwhile, as I was dying mentally, I started thinking of all the fast food places I could go. I started thinking of Wendy’s, of Subway, of tonnes of places. I even started thinking some ice cream and a nice big burger would be so good right now. I must have spent a good 20-30 minutes grading and trying to talk myself out of going somewhere and just eating at home. My mental exhaustion was getting a bit extreme.

Somehow, I drove myself straight home. I defeated all of those tempting thoughts I had. I sat down to some corn chip crumbs mixed with some salsa. I also took out the fresh mango cake I made last night and ate about a quarter of it. I also had got this Natur-a Cappuccino Soy Beverage. Oh my goodness. So good. I’m going to finish this thing tonight! I also wanted something not so sweet, and there weren’t enough chips left to satisfy me (literally crumbs left), so I made some popcorn with salsa on it. This is when I realized how hard it is to give up dairy. That was the only reason I couldn’t do vegan before. I like butter and cheese. But I’m doing it for my health and the welfare of animals, so I have to keep my mental battle going.

I went to the gym and did an awesome circuit of jump rope, overhead squats, walking lunges, push-ups and planks. I did my chiropractor’s exercises and left feeling amazing.

After returning home, I finished that Natur-a Cappuccino Soy Beverage. Oh yum! Wish I had one of these every day!

As a last meal, I blended up my last 4 organic bananas from my first Organic Box. They were pretty much as ripe as they could be before they started going bad. I blended them with some unsweetened almond milk, 2 medjool dates, and a tablespoon of organic coconut palm sugar. It was a yummy, filling way to end the night.