Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Secret Sins...part 1

Ok, I feel the need to confess.

I, Kathleen Doll, am addicted to Superstore. I know I'm not alone in this. I'm actually partially convinced it's a conspiracy.

I mean, you walk in the place, and it's like the rest of the world disappears. I wander, mouth open (I'm sure), staring at all that is before me. There's new Nalgene bottles (you know, the "safe" ones), 249 types of shampoo, beautiful new duvet covers for only $25 (!!), an ethnic food aisle that dominates over all others in Abbotsford, and then...there are the clothes. Oh the clothes! I know someone who only refers to the clothing as "Joe"...and pretends she actuallly shops at a store called "Joe" so that no-one will think she buys her clothes at Superstore. Except we all do now, so we've called her bluff.

The thing is, I find myself, ready to cash out...and realize my basket is full. I don't even really know what I've grabbed, or how long I've been there. Quite possibly I've missed a meal, and Carleigh and Gary are wondering where I am, or I may have even missed work...I really couldn't tell you, cause time seems to stand still in the place. And when I start pulling things out of the basket, I can't really remember putting it in there...

I think I've come to understand what it's like for gamblers in casinos.

In some ways, Superstore operates like a casino. Follow this...
1. There are NO clocks in the place. Ever tried to find out what time it is in Superstore? It's impossible.
2. Exits are rather difficult to find if you're in the back of the store. Really, you could get lost in there.
3. There's always "something else" to look at. You've made it to the back where they keep the shampoo, finally made your choice out of the 249 bottles, and then, oh wait, there's the clothes! You make it through the clothes, after only putting 3 items in your basket (which upon coming home, you realize you already own similar looking items), and you stumble across the cheap DVD's bin. It's like finding another slot machine on the way out...

I will say this however: For every thing I find fascinating (and scarily addicting) about Superstore, I still can't bring myself to buy dairy products or produce there. I mean, who doesn't refrigerate eggnog at Christmas time? A: Superstore. And who's lettuce goes bad within 2 days? A: Superstore.

I guess we can't all be perfect...

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Project completed...

Well, it took me many moons, but the cabinet is completed...and resting in my room, full of books.

Here's some pictures of the last few phases....
I'm so glad it's done!

Sunday, August 09, 2009

10 years.

Last night, I went to my 10 year reunion. In many ways, the 10 year high school reunion can actually be more awkward than the actual experience of high school. All of a sudden, you're faced with people you were never friends with in high school, and feel that you need to "catch up". "So, what have you done the last 10 years?" You share your stories in 3 sentences or less, and then try to find a way to leave the conversation.

However, I want to say that seeing my friends, the ones that I DID spend my time with in high school, was so good. Because I come from a smaller town, many of these people I have known since elementary school. We have grown up together and share many experiences (even just the similarity of growing up in Courtenay). I feel safe with these people, and enjoy their company (even though it's not all too often that I see them).

So that's that. 10 years. In some ways we grow up and move on, and in others we are still the same 17/18 year olds who excitedly graduated into "the real world".

Sunday, August 02, 2009

Layers of paint.

Tonight I was putting a third coat of paint on my grandmother's cabinet, the one that in my memory was always full of her china, sitting in the living room, next to the piano that she always wanted someone to be playing and had purchased despite her inability to play. The cabinet was a pale yellow which always reminded me of faded sunshine...and was rescued last fall from my grandparents' house which was finally sold. I had requested taking it, because to me, it is a piece of my history, of my family. It is a visual reminder of my grandparents who have not been with us for many years now, and brings memories of them that I cherish.
I decided to re-paint the cabinet when I received it, for the faded yellow was not just faded, but now dirty and peeling. As I have carefully sanded and smoothed down the edges, I have found a mint green underneath; as I have rolled and dabbed on the new paint, I have realized how intricately detailed the craftsmanship of this piece is. I imagine my grandmother at age 16, receiving the cabinet from her father, excited at the mint-green colour, and appreciative of the detail he had put into it, the individual panes of glass that make up the door.

And then I fast forward to a later time in life, perhaps when my grandma was 30 or 40, and took a look at that green cabinet and thought it needed some freshening up. Perhaps she thought it needed some sunshine. I wonder, as she sanded and painted the piece, if she thought of her father and the work he had delicately put into it.
And now, here I am, some 4o, maybe even 50 years later, re-painting, restoring, and reliving something that has existed longer than I have.

I find it amazing that the layers of paint in our own lives tell our stories. Deep down we are the same person we have always been.

This last week I have spent time with some lovely young ladies who I know from spending time in Costa Rica together...sweating together...stressing together...loving together...and learning from each other. These are the friendships that help me put new layers on. They smooth my edges and provide new stories. Deep down, I am the same girl that was scared of earthquakes, played flute in the band, spent the summer at the river, and was never able to come up with that "5 year plan". The layers build on that...allow God to use me in different ways.

I am thankful for these girls, and for the relationships that I have with them. I pray that I may continue to build such relationships...those that smooth my peeling paint and splash on coats of new colours.

(Just to confirm, yes, the cabinet is currently pink, but be assured this is the tinted primer. Next step: RED!)