Ms. Ladybug

As written by my father, Mr. Bell...

Ladybug, Ladybug

Last night, after supper, I was sitting at the kitchen table reading my library book. All of a sudden who flies in and sits on the top of my page but Ms. Ladybug.

We see her around every day or so, on the kitchen sink, on the window screen, on the floor by the fridge (where it is warm in the morning), or on the window screen in the afternoon when the sun is shining.

Once she was in my hair and another time on my sleeve. She likes to fly onto the lights above the table. I have placed her on the potted plants many times.

Our resident ladybug appears to be doing well, while wintering in the Bell house.

This morning she was on the rim of the sugar bowl having a sweet little snack.

As winter wears on I hope that she makes it to spring and one warm day I can take her out the back door and say...

"Get out of here you stupid bug!"

Book 2

The Call of the Wild by Jack London

It was a quick, enjoyable read. I first heard of this book watching Into the Wild. It was one of Chris McCandless' favourites, and ever since then I've always wanted to read it. Finally, I did. And for only $2 at a second hand store!

the Call of the Wild was a story about a St. Bernard dog named Buck, who was taken from his home during the gold rush in Alaska, and put to work pulling a dog sled in all areas of the state. It showed how Buck, who at one time was a home-grown, home-fed, nurtured animal, tackles the obstacles that confront him in the wilderness - the hostility of other dogs, the elements of the weather, horrible men - and how he comes to learn that he was meant to do this, be in the wild, all along.

It reminded me a bit of the movie Homeward Bound, and how animals will do almost anything to survive. But perhaps my favourite part in this book was when Buck meets John Thornton, who ends up saving Buck's life. And particularly how Buck discoveres that he never realized he could experience "love, genuine, compassionate love, was his for the first time. This he had never experienced at Judge Millers... but love that was feverish and burning, it had taken John Thornton to arouse."

Another book I'd suggest to my followers!

and let the training begin!

Alright. First test. Training starts today, Tuesday, Jan. 19. 5.25 km. And... I'm off!

Update: Finished the 5.25 in just under 40 minutes I think, but I have to start using a stopwatch and timing myself. Honestly though, there is nothing I can think of that feels better than to run - all your stresses and your worries and concerns just dissapear for the time being, and its wonderful. You should try it.. that is, if 'you' are even following my blog!

Book 1

Watership Down by Richard Adams

What an amazing book. When I was young, my sister and I used to watch the movie - rabbits were our favourite. And I just recently made a list of 25 books to read before I turn 25 (just over 2 years), and I thought I'd add this book to my list.

It was the first I read, and it was more than I could have ever wanted from a book about rabbits. Adams does such an amazing job creating a world where you, the reader, actually believe that rabbits live in such a way - with Owsla (government) and a Chief Rabbit, and the little rabbits with no say in how they pass silfay (poop) or eat their greens.

The story line is phenomenal and I found myself falling deep and deeper into the rabbit world. The adventure that Hazel, BigWig, and the others find themselves on is so well described and so well portrayed that you forgot at times the characters you are getting to know are even rabbits. But then you are reminded they have long ears, a furry tale, and dig tunnels.

I would suggest this book to anyone who wants to read something they can't bring themselves to put down. It was magical, and that is an understatement.

Renovations

Been renovating my website, but it's finally done! Check it out: www.writersfidelity.com

adding some...

Must add Three Cups of Tea and David Copperfield to my list of books!

Half-marathon challenge

I've been invited by a very good friend to run a half-marathon in Ottawa, in May. And I am going to do it. The challenge starts very soon, with a weekly routine leading up to the run.

I think to warm myself up I'll do the Vancouver Sun Run in April. At least, to give myself a 'head start.' Wish me luck. Updates I'm sure to come on my progress over the next few months.

Run, run, rudolph.

wildlife run

I went for a run this afternoon. And I loved it, because whenever I run in Steveston (where I live) I see all sorts of animals. For instance, I run past a big, dead tree, and usually in it sits two bald eagles. They are beautiful.

Today was especially neat, however, because I got within feet of a blue heron. And this is the second time it has happened.

The great blue heron is the largest in North America, with a wingspan of 180 cm. As you can see in the picture I've taken, it has black feathers, red-brown thighs and feathers. It is beautiful. Some people don't favour birds, but I can't help but think they are the most gorgeous creatures on earth.

The Blue Heron migrates from Florida, Mexico and to South America, and also, in Steveston. Which is lovely. They are normally found in marshes, and Steveston has many of that. I've watched this particular heron sit and listen to the water before it strikes its beak down, usually finding a turtle or fish. I've never seen it pull up a turtle, but according to Wiki it does eat them. It also eats shellfish, insects, rodents, reptiles (snakes) and other small birds.

I do think though that my favourite thing about them is their eyes. They look at you, and when they do you feel like they are examining you, contemplating whether or not you are a threat to them based on your movements, your reactions. But the look they give is more than just a form of defense, it is somewhat intimidating, intense, and yet they do it calmly, as though they aren't afraid at all. You wonder whether they themselves will turn on your and attack you with their beaks.

Perhaps the nicest thing about herons is... they are nowhere near becoming extinct. They are of the 'least concern' in conservation status, and that makes me rather happy.

Lightning Strike

Tonight, I was so mesmerized by the sound of thunder, and the heavy rain that I decided to take a gander outside with my boots, coat and umbrella.

I walked halfway down the block and the rain was coming down on me, and I was just about to turn around, when at that very moment, and at the exact same time: I saw a flash of light, sparks, and felt an intense shock in my hand. I threw my umbrella down on the grass and yelled, "Oh my God!"

That's right, my friends, I believe I was just struck by lightning.

I know it may sound crazy, and everyone may think I'm loony bin nuts and am making it all up, but it is true. I can not believe it. I can't believe that I felt a shock in my hand so intense that I threw the umbrella out of the way. And as I looked up I checked to see if anyone saw anything, and the lights in the street went out.

Now, after doing some research, I've discovered that despite the belief that it is a rare occurrence to ever be struck by lightning, it isn't. In fact, there is about a 1 in 600,000 chance of being struck. And about 2,000 people are injured by lightning each year. Only 9-10% die from the strikes.

There are four different ways a human can be struck: by a direct strike, a 'splash' from nearby objects that are struck, a ground strike near the victim, or electromagnetic pulse from close strikes (EMP).

I feel fine. My hand, where I saw/felt the shock, feels a bit strange, not really weak but sort of off. I suppose it is hard to explain. My umbrella looks intact, although I haven't exactly gone outside to check on it.

It's quite peculiar, though. My dad told me that my grandma was also struck by lightning when she was younger. She, however, wasn't as lucky. Her toenails fell off. I suppose it runs in the family?

Either way, I'm glad it didn't turn out for the worse, and that I am healthy and alive. The whole, "Life flashes before your eyes" phrase may really be true after all.

Subway tears

I'm standing on the subway with my boyfriend. We have just come from an amazing Italian dinner with some friends downtown, and we're looking forward to getting home to our own bed.

And as I'm standing on the trai

n, I look over and noticed this woman, Chinese ethnicity, possibly mid-twenties, well dressed. She has a black pair of pumps beneath her feet, a black dress coat, as if she had expected the night to be filled with glamour. What I notice first, however, is not her attire, but how red her nose is.

I smile at her, the thing to do when you meet eyes with someone for the first time, a stranger. She half-smiles back, and turns away, looking out the subway window and into the concrete tunnel we are flying through.

I’m not sure if it is female instinct, but at that moment I feel as though she has just hinted to me that she is sad.

My boyfriend and I were smiling upon entering the train, laughing about the night, waddling with the pasta that filled our bellies, but after meeting eyes with this woman something changes. I feel guilty for being so happy, for having someone to share the small nothings on a subway with.

The boyfriend finds a seat and rushes to sit down. I stand by myself for a few seconds, contemplating what to do. Should I go and see if she is all right? Should I just ignore the fact that she is clearly upset?

I look over again, just like any human looks at the site of a car accident as they are driving past – we know we shouldn’t, be we feel compelled to see what is going on. She is speaking on her cell phone with someone, and she is crying. Quietly, probably hoping no one will notice. Probably wishing that at that very moment she could just disappear and magically reappear at home, where she feels slightly safer.

I feel so awful inside, staring at the sad woman. I’m not sure what it is that sparks inside of me. Maybe it is noticing that everyone else on the train is ignoring this woman’s quiet sobs. Maybe it is that if I were her, entirely alone, I would want someone to see if I was going to be all right. Maybe it is just me being me. Either way, I walk over towards her and put my hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” I ask, hesitant. I don’t want to intrude and offend her for being so up front.

She nods her head, trying to compose herself.

“I’m fine…” but she can’t finish her sentence because she is afraid that by doing so she will become more vulnerable than she must already feel.

“You just had a bad night, didn’t you? It’s okay,” I say to her, now moving my hand over her back to console her. She nods again. I tell her everything will be okay, that when she gets home and goes to sleep, and wakes up in the morning, she will be fine.

I’m not sure if it’s a lie, or if I’m telling the truth, but I tell it to her anyways. Because at any moment people can become vulnerable. Because, whatever the reason for her being upset – whether it be a date gone horribly wrong, a friend kissing the man you came with – we are all confronted with bad things and they happen at the wrong times.

This was her bad thing and it happened at her wrong time.

I sit down with Ben, the ever-happy boyfriend, and though some people may feel triumphant for having just comforted a stranger, I feel even sadder.

Why was I so hesitant at giving out the simple phrase, “are you alright?” Has it come to this? Where people may visibly see someone extremely upset, angry, frustrated, lonely, and do nothing about it?

There is no doubt in my mind that others saw this woman on the train. There is no doubt in my mind that these people noticed she was upset. And yet even I was contemplating whether or not to soothe her.

How many other people out there wish, while traveling home late at night by train, taxi, bus, that someone would notice their sadness and offer a few comforting words? And is that all it takes… a word here, a hug there? I think if we all took the time to observe and tried to be less embarrassed to offer help, the world and those living in it might feel a little less sad. They might feel like I hope this woman felt after she got off the train – still sad, but comforted that there are people out there that still want to care.