Falling Glory and Unexpected Grace

There are fabulous northern lights tonight, unearthly pink and green darts falling down from heaven and dancing back up. I make Carla come outside with me to watch and we discover that the neighbours are also standing in the street, looking up in awe. I talk to them for the very first time, despite the fact that I've lived here for nearly two years. And I praise my God for being so good.

Every time I see northern lights I remember being about four years old and sitting in the back of my parents' car as we drove home from my grandparents' place. As I was falling asleep I looked out of the window and saw a new splendour pouring down from the sky. Good memories seem to lead into one another; somehow, that recollection of unexpected beauty puts me in mind of a late-night ice cream run with Jasmine and Challis in the middle of the Ottawa winter. We were walking home from the Mac when we heard a jazz tune pouring out of the third-story window in an old white house. All we could see of the mysterious musicians was the tip of an upright base sticking out of the window, but we stopped for the impromptu concert, sitting on a snow-covered ledge. The music floated down along with the giant white mid-winter snowflakes through the lamplit night.

...and there was a little quote, and there was a big quote, and all were the wiser for it...

"It's better to make people laugh than to make them jealous."
*Comment on Jen Gilbertson's blog.

"So, to become a human being and a Christian...is not to separate ourselves and work to become holy in a space that is defined and protected by religious convention; nor is it to seek for perfection by ordinary social or political activism. It is to be present with Christ in the world. It is to be there in God's name and God's presence in both confusion and order alike, standing with Christ, standing in that place in the world where God has chosen to be. And this is not a place of power or influence; it changes the world not by force but by patient endurance, by making room for the truth of God's alarming compassion to be there in the midst of everything
*Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury
Sermon Sunday 5th February 2006
Check out more: www.archbishopofcanterbury.org

My life, sans subtitles

QUEBEC
I had a great time and learned a lot. I even had a few stellar moments in stores in Quebec and Montreal where the clerks spoke French to me after they'd heard me say salut. I liked it. Good things about Quebec: Quebec City, poutine at the Cantine D'Amour in Trois-Pistoles, jazz at the Clarindon, Simon's, French, and the Fleuve.

EN ROUTE
I got to the train station at 1:50 AM Quebec time on Saturday and finally arrived here at 10:30 PM Saskatchewan time. In the meantime, I missed a train, thought I missed a flight (the worst feeling ever is thinking you've missed the last flight home), got to visit my dad for a couple of hours, read En Route magazine cover to cover, pondered E.E.Cummings and slept for about 3 hours in total. Sleep deprivation and near-hysteria made for a hilarious evening with Emily and Megan when I finally arrived in...

SASKATCHEWAN
I love Saskatchewan. I love the sun. I love that the rain is welcome. I love that I'm going home this weekend. I love the wind and the space and the pickup trucks. I love listening to the Dixie Chicks and Ron Sexsmith. I love getting letters from my boys out in the bush and having internet access again. I love my house and my girls and... wait on it... I love my job.

THE JOB
That's right, I love my job. I, the reluctant law student, am working in a law office and loving it. Granted, I've only been here for three days, but so far it's totally great. Everyone's nice and I'm working on real issues and they don't make things too hard for me and I'm just generally thrilled with it all. Maybe I won't have to join the circus after all.

AND NOW...
I'm actually kind of looking forward to getting back to Halifax in the fall. I don't want to be there right now, but I think I'll be ready for it when it comes and even a little happy to return to school. Who would've thought? I guess time really does work miracles - or blots out the memory. Either way, I'm glad that I'm happy about it. And I'm glad I don't have to go back quite yet.

So that's my life. This weekend, I'll be having a rockin' good time at the Frenchman River Valley Gospel Music Jamboree (yep, you heard right) working in the kitchen and catching up with everyone from home. I'm so thankful for all the sugary goodness in my life right now and I wish you all the same.

9 days left...

I have 9 days left at Trois-Pistoles and a little time today, so I thought I'd better blog again before I leave and forget the place altogether. I am admittedly beginning to like the town a lot now that it's a little warmer. It's a place worth describing once the rain stops. The town is Shaunavon-sized, with about 3500 residents and more bars than churches. There is, in fact, only one church: an immense stone cathedral in the Baroque style. The interior is decorated with faux-marble pillars, gilded arches, and an overabundance of cherubs. The most impressive element of the exterior is three enormous silver spires, featured prominently on almost every postcard in the town. The church has stood for over a century and the story goes that it was completed by means of a deal with the devil. I always think of legends and myths as something confined to places like Europe and Asia, where the same groups of people have lived in the same places for vast stretches of time. Nevertheless, they have legends here, and lost goblets, dark horses and diabolic pacts are intertwined with fur traders, Jesuit missions, and European warships in the collective memory. It's amazing to a prairie girl like me to live in a town this small that has been settled for so long.

There are lots of other great things about Trois Pistoles. There are good hiking trails in the woods and the Fleuve (the St. Laurence) is absolutely beautiful. The Cafe L'Essentiel has great coffee, the Cantine D'Amour makes the best poutine I've ever eaten, and it's just a short bike ride to the shore. It's great to be back in a small town and I'm getting fat on all the good food my hostess has prepared for us. Most importantly, I can speak a little French, read a little more, and smile and nod at the right places. This is a vast improvement from five weeks ago, so I'm satisfied. I hope eventually to be much, much more capable than I am at present, but it's okay for now.

The bad taste of exams is wearing off and I'm starting to think that returning to school won't be so bad... but tomorrow my marks come back. A month ago I was resigned to the fact that they won't be what I want, but now it's all I can do to keep myself from hoping... and hoping... and hoping... that they're better than I thought. I just want to get them back and have it over with so I can deal with the blow, wipe law school out of my mind for a few months and enjoy the summer.

I can't wait to get back to the prairies! The sun and dryness are completely welcome to me. Whenever I whine about the heat and the lack of rain, just remind me that I'm heading back to the coast in the fall and will have my fill of damp and cold. I'm so excited to get back to my girls and our house - it's been too long. I want to make this a very seize-the-day kind of summer, full of memorable moments and blessed randomness. I can't shake the realization that this might be the last time for a long time that I spend more than a couple weeks on the prairies, so instead of letting the feeling depress me I'm going to let it spur me on to see as much as possible of the people and places who count. Hopefully it works out.

Well, I'm done indulging my English craving. Love to all and I'll see you soon!

A third of the way into my immersion experience, I'm taking a moment to blog before I lose all of my English (without gaining any French, I suspect). What's up? Avec moi, I mean. Well, I've been living with a fantastic family and I've got a great roommate. The first week, the biggest problem was that Lisette (ma dame-hotesse) is an absolutely incredible cook (as apparently are all of the women here - I think it's a small-town thing) who serves gigantic portions and I didn't (and still don't) know enough French to say, "No thanks, I'm full" or "Do you think I could have a smaller helping?" or "Actually, I think I'll skip dessert today" without sounding very rude. Let's just say that it's a good thing I'm walking and biking everywhere. The first week was great because we were permitted to use as much English as we needed/wanted and there were only 20 students. Then the real immersion began. Suddenly on Friday night the town was overwhelmed with 280 anglophones over the age of 18, all forbidden to speak English (or, for that matter, Latin - no loophole there even if I remembered enough to take advantage of it). The mad rush for rental bikes began (I'm so glad I got mine last week), the flirting began (what's with the summer romance thing? It doesn't appeal to me) and the Virus de Trois-Pistoles set in. I'm actually pretty sure that we've got our very own virus here. I had it on the weekend, my roommate has it now, and students, professors, animateurs and host families are down with it. It's like bronchitis with vertigo. To be honest, I may be the source of this bizarre mutation - it appears to be a combination of the pseudo-mono I had in February with the inner-ear infection from final exams. It may have been incubating in me all along, just testing itself out every once in a while, and only with this new crowd of people has it really reared its ugly head. So if a strange new flu epidemic comes along, I apologize to the world and I lay full blame on the stress of law school.

When not battling the Plague, I've been undergoing a love-hate relationship with school. It's like returning to kindergarten... fantastic in many ways, but also a little difficult. It's nice that they plan activities for us morning, noon, and night (and no, that's not an exaggeration), but it's a little unsettling to realize that the activities and classes and so forth are actually mandatory. I mean, they take attendance and count demerits if we're late. It's a bizarre shift from law school, where they assume that we're old enough to take responsibility for our own education and that we can deal with the consequences on our own without their help. I'm chafing a bit under the presence requirements - I missed a day because I was sick and it counts as an absence and with three absences I don't get a certificate... you get the idea. Oh well, that's life and it's good for me to have to follow inane rules for a while, I guess. The funny thing is, I would be on time, attend class, and go to the activvities anyways and do it with a much better will if it wasn't all mandatory. I guess it's human nature to hate doing what you've got to do.

Speaking of which, I need to go take part in - get this - a mandatory soiree. Like, a mandatory party. At the school, granted, but really... mandatory? A party? If you can't make a party fun enough that people come of their own accord, maybe you should consider doing something else with your time.

I'll write again after my mandatory party.

Over

Exams are over, my packing's nearly done, and my centre of balance has left the left lobe of my brain and returned to its rightful place (I had an ear infection last week). Life is good. It's sad to be picking up and leaving yet again, but I'm excited for the change and looking forward to seeing a few different places before I return here in the fall. It'll be interesting to be back on the prairies and see how I've changed in relation to my first world. My mom came out here to help me pack and being around her in this place is making me realize that I really am starting to grow up and define my world in terms of myself - what I want and think and choose - instead of in terms of what I've always known. It's kind of interesting. I realize that this is a point that most people come to in junior high, but what can I say? I'm a late bloomer. I never had the self-defining rebellion or whatever it is that brings a lot of people fully into themselves. Instead I moved across the country and tried a new life on for size. And, you know, it fits. It needs some adjusting, but by and large it's okay. I may keep it; I may not. It's nice, though, to know that I can make it for myself. And now, with that incomprehensible rambling over, I'm going to bed. Sleep sweet.

Ah, Pemberley

I am completely besotted with Mr. Darcy. Yes, I have been watching the new Pride and Prejudice. Yes, I do wish with all my heart and soul that I was Elizabeth Bennett. And yes, I am a hopeless romantic (although, as Jasmine has pointed out, not without a cynical side). For the sweet love, though, people, how long is it going to take before I meet a guy who likes me and I like and actually works out? I'm feeling a little hopeless here. And I'm tired. So goodnight.

The joy of doing something I don't like

I'm mediocre. I'm coming to terms with that fact. I won't get exceptional marks on my exams; if I can scrape by with an A- I'll be thrilled. This is a new and somewhat anomalous stage in my life. I'm not sure if it's healthy or not; I'm not sure how long it will last. Hopefully the sensation remains strong enough to get me through exams without panicking but not strong enough to let me through without studying.

If only I cared.

It makes me think...

79 people died and 160 were injured in a suicide attack on a Baghdad mosque last Friday. There's something to be said for living in a country where a death toll of 8 is considered one of the worst massacres in national history.

One down, four to go

Nance stares pensively at the computer screen as she counts the cases in her mind. Jones v. Hart, BG Checo v. BC Hydro, Kapchuk v. whoever-it-was; an intermittent stream of names - cases and courts, plaintiffs and magistrates, terms of art and terms of endearment - runs between her temples, seemingly draining out of the rational lobe of her brain and settling into a low, dull ache. Her knees are stiff; her back is stiff; her brain is stiff. She catches faint whiffs of herself from time to time; personal hygiene has never seemed less important. Romance? Not likely. Her love life is limited to the occasional strain of Michael Buble mellowly emanating from the kitchen. The sound of a growling stomach is her one chance to escape the living room and take a half-hour away from the computer to make a meal. She blesses her mother for worrying that she's not eating well: trips to the grocery store and delicious hours spent preparing well-balanced meals can be written off as the acts of a dutiful daughter, rather than the desperate graspings of an unmotivated student.

Twitterpated

For the record, I'm not in love. I'm not even twitterpated - although apparently everyone else is. Seriously, folks, what's with the spring fever? No, in all honesty, I'm very, very happy for everyone who's finding someone. And you know who you are.

More distractions...

I'm still studying exclusion clauses, so here are some more quizzes.

You Are 22% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well. In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

You Are a Coy Flirt

You may not seem like you're flirting, but you know exactly what you're doing. You draw people in, very calculatingly, without them even knowing. Subtle and understated, you know how to best leverage your sex appeal. A sexy enigma, you easily become an object of obsession.

What Kind of Flirt Are You?

Your Quirk Factor: 49%

You're a pretty quirky person, but you're just normal enough to hide it. Congratulations - you've fooled other people into thinking you're just like them!

How Quirky Are You?

Snickers

Nutty and gooey - you always satisfy.

What Kind of Candy Are You?

You Are Fall Flowers

Beautiful yet often forgotten.

What Part of Fall Are You?

You Are Animal

A complete lunatic, you're operating on 100% animal instincts. You thrive on uncontrolled energy, and you're downright scary. But you sure can beat a good drum. "Kill! Kill!"

The Muppet Personality Test

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free. In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you're told that you're loved. You'd like to your lover to think you are optimistic and happy. You would be forced to break up with someone who was emotional, moody, and difficult to please. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... one you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage something you've always wanted... though you haven't really thought about it. In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Distractions...

I'm supposed to be studying contracts but I'm doing personality quizzes instead. They're strangely revealing. You'll notice, too, that they never point out the flaws. For instance, instead of telling me I'm cold, they say I'm withdrawn. Instead of informing me that I'm irritatingly combative, they tell me that my mind is a weapon. Oh well, I like it and it makes me feel good about myself to pretend that it's all true. And that was another 30 minutes I didn't have to spend trying to figure out what the Supreme Court of Canada thinks about standard form agreements and exclusion clauses. I recommend the quizzes.

My favourite is the socks. I'm not sure about the accuracy of the others.

Your Personality Profile

You are elegant, withdrawn, and brilliant. Your mind is a weapon, able to solve any puzzle. You are also great at poking holes in arguments and common beliefs. For you, comfort and calm are very important. You tend to thrive on your own and shrug off most affection. You prefer to protect your emotions and stay strong.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

You Should Get a PhD in Liberal Arts (like political science, literature, or philosophy)

You're a great thinker and a true philosopher. You'd make a talented professor or writer.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

Who Should Paint You: Gustav Klimt

Sensual and gorgeous, you would inspire an enchanting portrait.. With just enough classic appeal to be hung in any museum!

What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait?

You Are Socks!

Cozy and warm... but easily lost. You make a good puppet.

What Crappy Christmas Gift Are You?

The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times. Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness! Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

You Belong in Amsterdam

A little old fashioned, a little modern - you're the best of both worlds. And so is Amsterdam. Whether you want to be a squatter graffiti artist or a great novelist, Amsterdam has all that you want in Europe (in one small city).

What European City Do You Belong In?

News

I don't know if I've written about curling: if not, I curl sporadically on Wednesday nights. I'm terrible, but it's a lot of fun and the people are nice. So nice, in fact, that one of the guys asked me out. He's nice and I'm going. So that's my news.

I like it when people actually ask me out instead of indicating that they're interested but never getting around to doing anything about it.

"Take off your pants!"

Went to Domus last night and had so much fun. Well-deserved fun, too: I've hardly left the three-block radius surrounding my apartment for several weeks. It's almost worth not going out for a month and a half because I appreciate it so much more when I finally do. It was a great night to be at Domus: some of the guys from school have a blues band and they rock. I think they're going by "Amir and the Twerps". If by some strange coincidence they're playing in a town near you, OR, (LARGE HINT HERE) if you come and visit me some weekend when they're playing in town, you should check them out. They're great. Next year I plan to spend significantly more time going out to listen to live music and much less time dancing to tired, generic, recorded tunes: it's a completely different level of enjoyment.

In between sets we were all treated (i.e., forcefully exposed) to "Speech Night": speeches from the folks running for the Domus exec. It wasn't much of a competitive event - they worked it out so everyone was running for a different position and there was no competition between themselves. It's all warm and fuzzy: they can get hammered without fear of losing their spots. And hammered they were. The Domus exec speeches over the years have mutated into a "take off your pants!" fest, with the crowd calling for partial (or full) nudity and the candidates only too happy to oblige. The people running tend to be male exhibitionists, so there isn't too much in the way of forced exploitation. Yes, folks, these are the lawyers, politicians, and community leaders of the future. Get your incriminating photos while you still can: there's plenty of blackmail material to be had.

The World's Awry

I've had a strange, angst-ridden afternoon. I have the feeling that something's not right somewhere and I'm a little concerned about where or what that might be. I'm hoping it's hanger or hormones, but I've been praying for everyone I can think of all the same. Here's hoping you're all okay and I'm just strange!

Haphazard Wanderings

*I'm tired of being the girl who doesn't get the guy because she's too busy trying not to make a fool of herself. Unfortunately, I'm not really sure how to remedy this. I'm open to suggestions.

*I'm looking forward to spending some time at home: not in Saskatoon, although that'll be fun too, but really at home. I can't wait to go walking at night and look up and see all of the stars from one end of the sky to the other. I love the country. There's never enough time to spend looking at the apple trees while they're blooming or at the stars while they're shining (I know it's cheesy, but you know it's true).

*I think I'm going to use a bike as my main mode of transportation this summer. I'm looking forward to it. Maybe I'll actually have a tan by August. I'll probably have to wear a helmet, though... I hadn't thought of that...

*Jo, how'd it go with the movie and your apartment and all that? I'm curious. You should blog and let us know.

*I saw a very pregnant girl today with a cute husband and an adorable little boy. She was around my age and looked so happy - I wished I was her. And then I remembered something:

*My new resolution is to be like my grandma. She was single until she was 29 or 30, which was unusual for her time. She really used those years: got a professional degree, enjoyed her job and was good at it, took the opportunity to travel with a close friend, and generally made the most of the time she had. And then when she met my grandpa she'd done a lot of cool stuff and was ready to settle down and raise my dad and my aunt. She's a great lady to the present day and I hope to be like her.

My other grandma wasn't single quite as long, but she had a similar story: spent time on her own, worked and loved her job, had a great time with friends, kept up really close ties with her family, and finally settled down with my grandpa to a long and happy life together. When I was at their 50th wedding anniversary a few years ago I realized that this is what I want: not a career, although I have no problem with spending a few years working and doing a good job of it, but a family and a life in a community where people know each other and recognise and celebrate their interdependence. It's a good life. I'm not sure how I'm going to manage it, with the farm economy going down and good country boys running short, but I'm looking for a way. We'll see if I stick to the course.

Pathos is oozing from my pores

You know what's sad? My C&C group is always sending out mass emails being like, "Hey! There's a farewell party for this person!" and I'm always like, you know, I'd love to go, but I don't know who that person is. And I don't know who any of the other people are. And for all of your pretend welcoming, you don't want a stranger at your place when you're saying goodbye to a friend. So I never go. And then they sent out an email about a guy I've actually met, and I'd like to go because I think he's cool and I didn't even know he was leaving, so it would be nice to say goodbye, but how creepy is it for this person you've met only once or twice to show up at your farewell? And I won't know any of the other people there. So he'll just leave and I'll probably never know where or why he went. And it makes me sad.

Satis

I'm trying to write a legal memo for my research and writing class and I'm getting more angst-ridden all the time about the fact that a memo is supposed to be concise and free of unnecessary details but my instructor wants it to be around 20 pages long and to cite multiple authorities even though I could write it in 12 pages with reference to one case from the Supreme Court of Canada that covers everything. I'm beginning to suspect that law school is one long, drawn-out exercise in futility.

Enough complaining. I'm going to write something happy and quite possibly sappy. If you're feeling scornful or critical today, I recommend that you not read the following. It'll take me down a notch in your esteem and I certainly don't want that. If you're going to read any further, I ask you to suspend your disbelief, have faith for a moment in romance and idealism, and simply enjoy the dream.


You may have noticed that the blog title refers to two entities. This is the story of Phoenix and Nance, not of Nance all by her lonesome. She's caught glimpses of him from time to time: seen his eyes in another's face, heard his heart speak in another's voice. It is, for the moment, enough. Satis. "And now these three remain..." Faith she has, hope she has, and the third she knows will come. The smile that caught her eye and the song that caught her heart speak to a hope that a star will fall for her. And there will be a brilliant moment when the drink is suddenly stronger and life is unfathomably sweeter, a moment when the morning sun comes through the window and her heart opens to find itself full.

Home and school

Well, it's official: I'm coming back to the land of open skies and country music. I officially accepted a job today and I'm extremely excited to move back in with my girls and come a little closer to home. I'm so looking forward to the summer: the heat (remind me of this when I start to complain), the blue skies, the time spent with people who know me well and the freedom from school.

I'm struggling with the idea of a calling. I honestly can't say that I feel called to law. I don't love the classes, I'm frustrated with the misapplication of ideals, and I have no passionate interest in anything that I can see turning into a legal career. I often wish I could go back to English or move forward a few years to the time when I'll be doing graduate work in something else - literature or maybe theology. I'm trying to be practical and to appreciate the benefits of law school: I'm learning lots of things that apply directly to the world around me, I'm being forced to learn self-discipline, and presumably things will get more interesting next year when I can start to choose my own classes. And yet I still find myself wishing I was doing something else.

Maybe it's just the time of year: the crack-down has begun and I wish I'd worked harder in the last six months. Then again, maybe I'm in for a few dry years. And that's okay: sometimes it's necessary to spend a significant amount of time doing something you're not passionate about. My dad, for instance, spent 20 years farming before he got into a career he really felt called to. I just dread the thought of getting sucked into the corporate law world - taking the easy way out and heading straight into a padded office as soon as I finish my articles. I really hope it doesn't happen. On the other hand, if it does happen I hope it will be because I've found an interest and developed a passion for it, not because the pensions are good and the work is there. We'll see. I'm intensely jealous of Megan and Ole with their T.S. Eliot seminars and multivarious literature classes, but I guess I'll suck it up and try to remember that I came here to learn a practical way that I can make a difference in the world.