bonhoeffer. so intense.

Oh my! It's Dietrich Bonhoeffer! In my basement!

No it's not. Don't be silly.

I'm nearly done reading this book. It's a biography of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and biographies are the best types of books, because they're real life and everything in them actually happened. Thrills, man. Thrills.

Now if you're reading a biography that happens to be terribly boring, I'm very sorry. Biographies should not be boring. Give it up and go read this one instead.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a pastor in Germany during World War II. He was determined to preach the gospel despite the dangers and threats posed by the Third Reich during Hitler's maniacal reign. This book, skillfully woven together by the brilliant Eric Metaxas, follows Bonhoeffer as he figures out his role in the awful war that ravaged not only Dietrich's beloved home country of Germany, but the entire world.

This guy becomes a spy. When one becomes a spy, generally no one save certain VIPs are aware that said person is a spy. When Bonhoeffer got his spy on in order to help further the plots to assassinate Hitler, he gave up his reputation, certain relationships, and safety.

You're needing inspiration? Read this. It's like getting a karate chop to your soul.

Weird analogy. Apologies. Now I'm going to go make a cake.

get your tutu on.

I think probably most little girls want to be a ballerina at some point. Angelina Ballerina nurtured my desire to dance. I wasn't a little white mouse, but I was a little girl who thought she had some serious prima ballerina potential. 

Then I grew to be over six feet tall. No ballet man wants to do lifts with a girl who's over six feet tall. Ballet man? Is that even a proper term? Probably not. Having been shunned from the land of ballet, my tall sisters and I stuck to doing our own versions of arabesques in our living room to the techno beats of our Hooked on Classics record. 

My dancing skills never quite reached the level of Angelina Ballerina. I'm okay with that. I'll just draw ballerinas instead. Voila! The first five positions -- the only ballet positions I actually ever learned. I think they're correct. If not... well... don't use these as guidelines if you're learning to be a real ballerina. That's all. 

the wedding pt. 5: the ladies

So it turns out that being a bridesmaid is a lot of work. It's fun work, but work nonetheless that requires time and patience and good scrap-booking skills. Okay, not always true for the scrap-booking skills. But my lack of skill in that department was a bit of a boon when trying to help my sister make invitations for her wedding. Yes, Marcella, the messed up invites were probably the result of my sub-par workmanship and bad relationship with glue sticks. Sorry about that.

Knowing that being a bridesmaid takes work, I almost felt a bit bad asking my friends and sisters to be in my wedding party. I made myself feel better about this by taking on the bulk of the wedding planning myself so that I wouldn't have to put stress on anyone else. Or... I'm just a control freak. Probably the latter. My poor younger sisters/maids of honour come up to me a few weeks before the wedding and say, "So... it's almost your wedding and we haven't helped with anything. Is there anything you want us to do?"

I should probably learn to delegate.

I had six girls on my side of the wedding party -- four sisters, one future sister-in-law, and one dear friend I had the fortune of meeting during my university days. Their heights ranged from 5'5" to 6'2". Two of them would be 7 months pregnant by the time our wedding date rolled around. The issue of attire was a bit of a burning question.

What I did know is that I wasn't going to lead 6 girls around trying to find a matching dress that would suit them all perfectly. That is something we like to call impossible. Instead I picked a colour (royal blue-ish, give or take a shade) and sent them off into the world of retail to fend for themselves. Price, style, frills -- twas all up to them.

 

{Darryl Schipper Photography}

Hi Rhi. 

Those babies are now born and cuter than you could possibly imagine. 

{Darryl Schipper Photography}

I think it worked well, considering I didn't see all the dresses together until the day of the wedding.  Haha. If I had a wedding planner she/he'd probably lose her/his mind... but it's way more fun this way.

fire.

This is what happens when our pyrotechnic-happy neighbours set off fireworks during a summer drought and one escapes to the other side of the fence. At least... we think that's what happened. We're not sure. All we do know is that suddenly the grass behind the seminary houses was on fire in a nice little circle. We also now know that seminarians make pretty good firefighters. I could now begin making really lame jokes about seminarians putting out fires... but starting fires in people's hearts... the Holy Spirit... etc.... but I won't.

You're welcome.

the kumquat kid.

When I feel overwhelmed and over-busy and overtired I take a break by watching youtube movies of parents torturing their children with citrus fruits. Makes me feel better every time.