Today is the feast of the great founder of the Society of Jesus (Jesuits): St. Ignatius of Loyola.

St. Ignatius was a great soldier who, after a terrible injury (...to put it mildly, a canon ball went through his leg), dramatically changed his life after reading about the lives of the Saints and the life of Christ while on his sick bed. Long story short, he became a priest, founded the Society of Jesus, wrote the famous "Spiritual Excercises," emphasized obedience to the Pope and missionary activity, and produced probably the most important religious order in the history of the Church. Ah yes, the Jesuits.

So how could you best summarize the modern day Jesuit?

Here:

A man walked up to a Franciscan and a Jesuit and asked, "How many novenas would I have to do in order to get a Maserati?"

The Franciscan asked, "What's a Maserati?"

The Jesuit asked, "What's a novena?"

Yes, the Jesuits have fallen from grace, so to speak, in the past one hundred years. They are leaving a trail of:

    liberal universities,

                      "inventive" theologians,

                                                     the (ugh) St. Louis Jesuits (Schutte, Dufford, Foley et al),

                                                                                                          and scores of Jesuit jokes...

A Jesuit and a Franciscan were involved in a car accident. Hurriedly they got out to make sure the other person was OK, each insisting that it was probably his own fault.

Then the Jesuit, very concerned for his fellow religious, said, "You look very badly shaken up. You could probably use a stiff drink." At that he produced a flask, and the Franciscan, who was indeed a bit shaken up, took it gratefully.

"One more and I'm sure you'll be feeling fine," the Jesuit said, and the Franciscan took another. Then the Jesuit took the flask and put it safely away.

"You look a bit shaken up yourself," the Franciscan said. "Are you sure you don't want to take a bit?"

The Jesuit replied, "Oh, I certainly will; but I think I'll wait until after the police arrive."

and

Two men considering a religious vocation were having a conversation.

“What is similar about the Jesuit and Dominican Orders? ” the one asked.

The second replied, “Well, they were both founded by Spaniards — St. Dominic for the Dominicans, and St. Ignatius of Loyola for the Jesuits. They were also both founded to combat heresy — the Dominicans to fight the Albigensians, and the Jesuits to fight the Protestants.”

“What is different about the Jesuit and Dominican Orders?”

“Met any Albigensians lately?”

It is a shame how many of the modern day Jesuits have tarnished their good order by, ironically, disobeying their founding principle: obedience to the Pope. So today we pray that, through St. Ignatius of Loyola's intercession, maybe this once great order can be reformed to be what it originally was. Maybe they will need a figurative canon ball to the leg in order to smarten up. Suffering is a great teacher. I'm sure St. Ignatius of Loyola would approve.

Fast History

Recently in my Liturgical History course we have been covering much of Pope Pius XII's writings on the liturgy, most especially his encyclical Mediator Dei. This Pope is, I am finding, one of the best, most clear-headed writers of the twentieth century. Needless to say, much of the post-Vatican II liturgists have utterly ignored his sound, immutable, teachings.

Now one of the changes Pope Pius XII brought to the liturgy was to reduce the midnight fast to three hours (1953). That is, beforehand you could not receive Holy Communion unless you hadn't eaten anything since midnight. This is a reason why the Midnight Mass became so popular. You could eat at 11:59pm, and still go to Communion!

A little snack. And then...

Midnight Mass. And then...

Presents!

Of course nowadays there is just the one hour fast, which means that you can literally eat food up to a few minutes before Mass begins and still be ok to receive Communion (not advisable though).

Why do I bring this up? After all, this little tidbit is just a thing of the past, and the reason my course is called: Liturgical History. The initial change took place in 1953, some thirty years before I was even born. Well this might be history to some of us, but it was a reality for others, and produces some great stories...

This past week we went and visited my grandparents. My grandma was telling stories about her life growing up on a very poor farm in southern Saskatchewan. One story involved how her family would get up every Sunday (all 13 of them) and, after chores, hook up the horses and ride to the church. They would arrive before 9am and they, along with the whole surrounding community, would take turns going to confession. After hearing several confessions the priest would then distribute Holy Communion to those who would line up! Then the priest would go back to hearing more confessions before distributing more of the Eucharist (and on and on). Upon receiving Communion, all the families would go to the basement of the rectory and eat breakfast. Following breakfast they would go back to the church for Mass, which would take a minimum of 2 hours (10am - noon). Following Mass half the community would go over to someone's house for lunch/supper. It's funny how despite the extreme poverty, the host family always was able to provide enough food for half the community.

Now my grandma said that there was only one lay person in the whole church who would actually fast all morning, every Sunday, so that she could receive Holy Communion at Mass: my great grandma Marie Rose Millette. Just one person!

This reminds me of another story. One old priest friend I know said he had to say three Masses every Sunday morning, and that he was not allowed to eat or even have a drink of water during that time. However, he said he broke that rule every Sunday, because he would've passed out without as much as a drink (he has had heart problems all of his life). Fair is fair. You can't really force someone to say three Masses (travelling to a different town for each) while going 12-14 hours without food or drink.

Anyway, these stories brought a connection between what I am studying, and how it actually affected those at the time. Pretty neat stuff.

For me, I'm glad that it is easier to go to Communion, and to receive Communion at the actual Mass celebrated. However, I do admire how the Communion fast was taken more seriously back then. It seemed to inspire a greater awareness of the solemnity of the Eucharist.

Maybe we're just big wimps nowadays...

Rider Fan Base

Last weekend, before heading out on our mini-vacation down south, the entire Millette family got together in Humboldt. We hadn't all been together since Christmas and since then there's even been a new addition to the grandchildren -- so I guess you could say we'd never all been together. Ever wonder what 18 Millettes in Rider gear looks like? Well, this is your lucky day! Ha!

We had a photographer booked for "official" family photos for Grandma's living room wall, but then we had some fun on our own afterwards with Fr. Darryl's super amazing camera -- and yes, I might just be really envious of his camera! It's pretty hard to get this many people looking at a camera -- which is on a timer -- all at once and Fr. Darryl had to do some serious editing of this picture to get a cat out and Joseph's face turned the right direction. But there you have it: the Saskatchewan Roughriders' best looking fan base!

We also got our mini family photo too!

Prairie Roots

We just returned from a few days away down in the southeast corner of the province visiting Dan's grandparents. Both Dan's parents, Gerry and Marcy, are from the town of Storthoaks where they grew up on their respective family farms. While the old Blerot farm has since been passed on from Marcy's family, the Millette farm is still in the spot where Gerry grew up, although the old house has since been torn down and replaced. Dan's cousins are running the Millette farm after taking over from their dad, Adrien, who passed away last year.

My mother-in-law often jokes that the reason she married her husband was because he was the only guy on the hockey team she wasn't related to. And it's true. Everyone down in Storthoaks and the nearby town of Redvers where Grandpa and Grandma Blerot now live, is related somehow. There's someone who's a first cousin to both Gerry and Marcy -- or something like that. You can imagine that it gets pretty confusing after a while. 

So we drove around the old Blerot and Millette stomping grounds, visiting the old cemetery full of Millettes and everyone else related to them, the Millette farm, and, of course, Grandpa and Grandma Blerot. And I think Joseph quite enjoyed getting acquainted with his prairie roots -- although he probably wishes he could do it without the long trip.

Enroute to Redvers we stopped outside a very small town, the name of which I can't remember, when we saw a small sign advertising a camping area and park. We found this deserted and weird site with armchairs scattered about and a prehistoric outhouse that I quickly made use of before we left, scared we'd run into something stranger.

We'd decided to camp the trip and make use of our wedding-gifted unused tent. Joseph immediately loved getting in our way as we painstakingly set up the tent and then set up half of it again -- who needs directions? He crawled around and around the inside and tried, unsuccessfully to stand up against the swaying walls.

In Redvers we visited a lot with Grandpa and Grandma Blerot. We hadn't seen them in over two years and since then Grandpa Blerot's health has deteriorated quite a bit, including recognition and memory. However, we were very surprised to find he knew exactly who Dan was right away. He was delighted with Joseph and kept giving his tickly kisses on his neck -- Joseph was equally delighted with his great-grandfather. Grandma fed us very well and tried to stuff us full of deserts -- ice cream one night; a huge plate full of cookies and another of butter tarts another night.

We spent our evening playing music, singing, and visiting with the residents at the nursing home where Grandpa Blerot lives. Joseph's smiles and laughs brought so much joy to the faces of all the residents. 

At the Millette farm we visited with Auntie Kim and her son Bradley. Auntie Kim is a wonderful hostess and treated us to great food and laughs. And you can really tell she's raised 3 boys -- she took out pots and spatulas for Joseph to play with, made him macaroni for lunch, and even let him eat it all while on her lap! She didn't even care that more ended up on her floor than in his stomach.

Our travel plans took a huge change when we discovered the entire southeast corner of the province was under tornado warnings -- a common occurrence this summer around here. We didn't want to be caught tenting in the ugly storm we could see for miles off, so we left Redvers behind us late Tuesday night and headed for a hotel in Carlyle, a nearby town enroute home. We got a huge lightening show the whole way there and no sooner were we indoors with our bags than the downpour began. I wish my pictures turned out better because the water coming off the hotel roof was incredible! Next morning, though, there was little sign of any storm at all. It was still too cool out for our planned day at the water park and resort, so we headed for home.

Despite the long drive home, Joseph was a real trooper (I can't say the same for the trip down)! He slept nearly the entire 5 1/2 hour trip and was happy during our few hour stop for shopping in Yorkton.

Oh, and check out this building we had to pull over to let pass in the Qu'Appelle Valley!!

Church Order

From facebook, hehe. Maybe Darryl can relate:


During a Eucharistic Congress, a number of priests from different orders are gathered in a church for Vespers. While they are praying, a fuse blows and all the lights go out.

The Benedictines continue praying from memory, without missing a beat.
...
The Jesuits begin to discuss whether the blown fuse means they are dispensed from the obligation to pray Vespers.

The Franciscans compose a song of praise for God's gift of darkness.

The Dominicans revisit their ongoing debate on light as a signification of the transmission of divine knowledge.

The Carmelites fall into silence and slow, steady breathing.

The parish priest, who is hosting the others, goes to the basement and replaces the fuse

Where's Becca?

Where's Becca?
Can you see where she is here?

Yeah, I can't find here either. I say this in reference to blogging. Earlier in the year Becca enthusiastically started this blog, and I joined in. However, as time has progressed it seems that she doesn't blog anymore, or very little. I'm not too sure if this means she's giving up writing, or is too busy spending these summer days outside with Joseph. We shall see. It looks like I'm going to have to fill in for her though, and post one of those picture/commentary blogs.


Yesterday Becca, Lynda, Joseph, and I went to the 84th Nipawin Exhibition. I haven't gone in years. We decided to go because Lynda wanted to watch the chuckwagon races. However, when I found out that Becca had never been on a ferris wheel before, there was only one thing to do! Beg for money from my mom and send Becca on it!

Why didn't I go? Because the last three times I've been on a ferris wheel I've gotten sick. Pretty tough hey. That's ok, Joseph and I hung out.

Becca and Lynda also went on the superslide!

Before the chuckwagon races we watched some crazy stunt bikers. And by crazy I mean crazy!

I would put up a picture of the chuckwagon races, but our camera batteries went dead. All in all though, it was good to get out to the exhibition.

The Script

Here is the script from this past Sunday Mass:

The closing prayer has just been read

Father - "I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for making my birthday celebration on Friday so wonderful."

*Applause breaks out*

Father - "And it was also the G________'s 49th anniversary on Friday. So I was one year old when they were married. Happy anniversary to you."

*Laughter and Applause*

Someone in the congregation - "Oh, but it's also C_______'s birthday tomorrow!"

*Applause*

Someone else in the congregation - "And it's V___________'s birthday the next day!"

*Applause and Laughter*

V__________ - "And it's the same day as D_____________'s birthday!"

*Applause, Laughter, and all around Hilarity ensues*

Another person in the congregation - "And two days later it will be..."

Father (cutting the person off and looking a little annoyed) - "Yes yes, happy birthday to everyone this month. Now bow your head and pray for God's blessing...."

End of script

The only thing missing from the end of Mass script was the guitar player giving us a nice background song. Maybe he was tired though, he did play a solo all the way through Father's homily, afterall...

Yes, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass has been reduced to open mic. And Father is too nice of a guy to tell the guitar player to go find a bar to play in, or the comedians to audition for the comedy network somewhere else.

Blues Brothers

To me there is no doubt about it: wherever applause breaks out in the liturgy because of some human achievement, it is a sure sign that the essence of the liturgy has totally disappeared and been replaced by a kind of religious entertainment.

"Oh come on now, that's a little harsh. It's just some good fun! Lighten up!"

You disagree? Maybe I should give you the whole quote, from none other than Pope Benedict (then Cardinal Ratzinger):

"Wherever applause breaks out in the liturgy because of some human achievement, it is a sure sign that the essence of the liturgy has totally disappeared and been replaced by a kind of religious entertainment. Such attractiveness fades quickly - it cannot compete in the market of leisure pursuits, incorporating as it increasingly does various form of religious titillation. I myself have experienced the replacing of the penitential rite by a dance performance, which, needless to say, received a round of applause. Could there be anything farther removed from true penitence? Liturgy can only attract people when it looks, not at itself, but at God" (Spirit of the Liturgy, p. 199).

Oh yeah, did I mention that Mass attendance continues to decline at our parish?

I think we need to listen to people like Pope Benedict when they extol us to stick to the liturgy, while warning us of the consequences of things like religious entertainment. He's a pretty smart guy that Pope Benedict. Let's listen to him!

*Applause*

St. Benedict

I was a little ticked off this morning. On facebook one of my past professors, a Protestant from Redeemer University College, posted about St. Benedict, whose feast day it is today (or memorial, properly speaking). I know I shouldn't be upset. He's such a great saint and I'm glad that Catholics and Protestants alike can appreciate what he did while on earth (and continues to do up there in heaven). But, you know, the way this professor was talking, well.. St. Benedict is OUR saint. That's just how I feel about the matter. It's like when I would go to a class at Redeemer and they'd try to claim St. Augustine as one of "theirs." And I'd reply:

"St. Augustine? Oh, you mean the Catholic Bishop St. Augustine! Yeah, I know him!"

But little squabbles aside, I don't want to lose focus here. The fact is that St. Benedict is one of the greatest saints in the history of the Catholic Church. Most people know him as a monk. Well, not just a monk but the "Founder of Western Monasticism." His "Rule of St. Benedict," which governs the rule of a monastery, is probably in the top 10 most important Catholic books ever written. Or, possibly, in the top 10 most important books period. It heavily influenced not just monasticism, but the whole Catholic Church, education, universities, you name it. St. Benedict is also famous for his motto: ora et labora. Pray and work.

St. Benedict is larger than life in many ways. Yet, that's not why I think so highly of him. In honouring saints we too often forget that they were just regular people too.

Benedict moved to Rome and studied privately while in his early 20s. At that time, Rome was being overrun by barbarians and overall moral depravity and corruption. He studied hard, was disciplined, polite, virtuous. He attracted the attention of some not so decent females. But Benedict would have nothing to do with it. One night he literally ran away from one such female, and threw himself into a rose bush full of sharp thorns! As he hung in the thorns, covered in blood, he realized that he needed to get away. He couldn't live in Rome anymore. He fled. Out to the countryside.

As time went on he became a hermit, living in peaceful seclusion and growing in holiness. The story goes that one day a rare visitor found Benedict and wished him a happy Easter. Now Benedict, in his secluded way of life, had no idea that it was Easter! At that point he realized that being a hermit was great, but if he wasn't even aware of the greatest day in the Church's calendar, then something was wrong. So he gave up his hermit way of life...

...sort of.

St. Benedict brought a world of hermit's silence and prayer and matched it with eager souls looking to get away from the corrupt world that was entering the dark ages. He blended the Church calendar and prayers, the austere life of a hermit, communal living ("man is a social animal" - Aristotle), and ordered this way of life and passed it on via his "Rule."

So many stories could be said about him. He had a twin sister, St. Scholastica. He kicked out occult members (offering black masses) off a mountain and claimed it as God's (the famous Monte Cassino). His monks saved civilization by beginning the practice of copying important books and passing on learning. But most of all, he had a greater effect on the world, and places such as Rome, as has never been seen before...

Going back to Redeemer, I have heard various professors and students there take jabs at monks and nuns. They say they are not active in the world, that they do not contribute. The fact is that they contribute more than anyone. It is the prayers of these monks and nuns which continually supports and nourishes the world. Without the prayers of a certain St. Benedict and his followers, and followers throughout the centuries, dare I say the mercy of God would not have saved civilization as often.

So today the universal Church honours St. Benedict, and how he helped save Europe. Many speculate that this is why Pope Benedict took the name Benedict. Europe is falling into a bad way once again. I think Pope Benedict is hoping, like St. Benedict of old, for a renewal. A renewal built on ora et labora. A renewal that starts with us normal, everyday folks... and maybe a rose bush if necessary.

St. Benedict, ora pro nobis!

Monte Cassino

Habemus Weight Benchus

On Saturday while I was at the Co-op working hard (on my farmer's tan) Becca, Lynda, and Joseph showed up with news that there was a weight bench at a garage sale for $150.

Now I actually bought a cheap bench a few weeks ago at a garage sale. As you can see, it's not much. Also, because all I own are plaster weights, the most I could bench was 230lbs.

So I took an early lunch break and went to check out the bench. The bench looks great, though I later discovered a broken part. Also, because it's adjustable it can get a little rickety. However, yesterday I took out my handy Makita power tools and, by using some wood, screws, and rebar tie wire, fixed everything. It's now very sturdy and great to bench on.

The best part was that it came with around 200lbs of metal weights. I was hoping to slowly transfer over to these since the plaster ones break so easily. I even had bought a pair of 25lbs a few weeks ago.

These ones are nice because, due to the design, I can also use them as bar bells.

So now I'm pretty well set with a very nice weight bench, lots of metal weights, and even a new bar with the metal rotating end (which is way safer). All in all, I would estimate the garage sale purchase to be a $700 value. It was a moving sale, so that's why they sold it for so cheap.

___________________________________________________________________________________

In other news, how about them Riders! Once again we were all decked out in our Rider gear to watch the game. Unfortunately, though, Becca wouldn't let me buy Joseph a Rider jersey the last time we were in Saskatoon. They were only $25 at Sportcheck. So we made the most of it yesterday:

He's been in that jersey before, to an actual Rider game in Toronto. Mind you, Becca was nearly 9 months pregnant at the time:

Anyway, I'm glad the Riders won. The D played great. Next week is versus B.C. so they'll be in tough.

Finally, in case you weren't aware of it, Rider star receiver Chris Getzlaf is my personal buddy. We go back a long way, as you can tell in this touching and personal video he made for me:

Differences

Today Becca and I were talking about how the weather in Ontario was a muggy 35 degrees, with a humidity that pushed it into the 40s. We both commented how we'd gladly take the sunny and dry 25 degrees here in Nipawin. This was one of those times when we actually agreed on something in relation to Ontario/Saskatchewan.
Usually we have, given our many university degrees, intelligent debates over the merits of each province.

"There's nothing to do in Saskatchewan."
"Oh yeah, well everyone in Ontario is gay..."
"I'm gonna hit you!"
"Bully!...       Ouch!"

Of course there's lots to do in Saskatchewan, and not everyone in Ontario is gay. But our dialogues sometimes demonstrate some of the differences between our two home provinces. I've lived in both provinces a fair bit, and have seen first hand the many quirks and perks of each place. And so, although not an exhaustive list, I offer you:

My Top 10 Differences Between Ontario and Saskatchewan.

10. Weather - Well this is a thunderous start. As mentioned earlier, Ontario is humid. Like I mean humid. Like I mean it is stupid hot out there! The typical Saskatchewanian dies of heat when out in Ontario. We're just not used to it. On the other hand, Saskatchewan is cold, very cold. But, as we say, "it's a dry cold." And it only lasts for about 8-9 months. This past winter in Southern Ontario..., wait, that's an oxymoron. There was no winter. That's right, there was no snow that stayed beyond a few days. Take your pick. Do you like hot hot summers and mild winters, or cold winters with mild summers?

9. Salt - Following from the weather, in Ontario if a single snowflake is seen then an automatic alarm sounds off throughout the city. Legions of heavy trucks come rolling out of secret garages arranged strategically throughout the streets. Their mission: Salt the heck out of the roads.

My poor van. I cry for all the rust that must be building underneath it.
People are often shocked when I tell them we don't really salt the road in Saskatchewan. "Why not!?!" It's a little thing called freezing point depression. Salt will only work to melt ice up to a certain temperature. In ideal lab conditions that temperature might be as high as 20C below. In practicality, the temperature has to be under 10C below for salt to work at melting ice on the roads. "*Gasp* So what do you do?"
We drive trucks like these, of course:

Keep in mind, though, that there are no insane 401 or 403 highways in Saskatchewan. So the chance of a 1000 car winter pileup isn't that great. You just have to watch out for the occasional cow on the road.

8. Milk Cartons/Bags - In Ontario milk bags are used. The bags are then carefully recycled. In Saskatchewan we use cartons. And then we go outside and burn the cartons when we're done.

I never liked milk bags, though mainly because they hold only slightly more than a litre, which means you have to change them all the time.

7. Tim Hortons/Co-op - Sorry, I've never seen a  Co-op in Ontario, though I'm told they exist there. Yep, out here if it weren't for the Co-op, well my goodness how else could you get one 2x4x12 spruce delivered to your house with no delivery charge? The Co-op is our staple.

The staple in Ontario? Tim Hortons of course.

Yes, we love Timmies all across this country, but I personally know that on Upper James Street in Hamilton you cannot walk around without seeing at least one, but usually two or three, Tim Hortons. And all of them are full, always.

Maybe people in Ontario don't know how to make coffee on their own?

Maybe people in Saskatchewan don't know how to load a stupid 2x4 onto their own truck and take it to their house instead of bugging the boys at the Co-op?

6. Joking Around - Thanks to the hit show Corner Gas, people in Ontario got a flavour of the sarcasm/joking around of the prairies. We like to joke around, and laugh at ourselves. I was quite struck by how my sarcasm was seen as hurtful when I first went to Ontario.

"Why would he say something so hurtful?..."
(Ok, that too is a line from Corner Gas).

Anyway, I've noticed a big difference between the two provinces when it comes to humour.
Case in point:

          

That's Weston Dressler, star receiver for the Saskatchewan Roughriders. Last year they introduced All Dressler Chips. They were all-dressed, all-Dressler chips. This year? Undressler Chips! They're plain chips, and he's undressed on the cover. It's funny!!!! Really!!!

5. Busy-ness - This one goes along the lines of "there's nothing to do in Saskatchewan." It's a laid back, slow-pace, beautiful way of life. Neil Young best captures it in his song "It's a Dream."

Ontario is busy. I'll never understand why people drive 2-4 hours a day on the country's busiest highways to go to work. Or build cabins along every possible square inch of land next to a lake. I shouldn't laugh though, Saskatchewan grew by 25,000 people last year, so maybe now I'll have to pass a car on the way to town or something.

4. Churches - Hands down Ontario beats Saskatchewan in this department. Our churches out west, with very few exceptions, are ugly boxes, or ugly circle boxes. Now I admire the pioneers who built them. I couldn't imagine having to build a church and break in farm land at the same time. There is a humbleness about them. But... I mean really... I wouldn't mind at least some nice churches. Ontario, on the other hand, has many gorgeous old churches. My favourite is none other than St. Hedwig's in Barry's Bay, ON.

In reality though, I think Ontario and Saskatchewan are probably even in terms of churches built from 1960-present. It's not that Saskatchewan is catching up, it's more that Ontario is slipping in the beautiful church department.

3. Hats/Toques - In Ontario, when it is snowing out, you will hear "oh, I have to put a hat on." Oh?

Or you have a new toque on and someone will say "nice hat!"

You think to yourself: "but I'm not wearing a hat..." but then realize that they just called your toque a hat. So what, I asked Becca, do you call actual hats? She said they're called hats too. Hmm.

It's similar to how in Texas they call every pop, or soda if you will, a coke.

"Hi, can I have a coke?"
"Sure, what kind?"
"Orange."

Yeah, I don't get it either.

2. People - Now before I begin, I must say that I know some incredible people in Ontario. They are the best of friends. On the other hand, I know some huge jerks in Saskatchewan. Ok, fair?

But the fact is that what makes Saskatchewan so different from Ontario is, generally speaking, the people. I'm talking the down to earth every day small town folk.

I remember moving to Barry's Bay back in 2004 and being shocked at how hardly anyone said hello on the street. In Southern Ontario, it's a very individualstic mentality where people hang out in their own world, and then hole up in their enormous house. Again, this is in general, and there are, thankfully, some great people in Ontario.

Yes, it is a stereotype, but there's still something to be said for small-town hospitality and an overall sense of morality. For instance, I remember at the Co-op a few years back during a coffee break. There were about eight of us there, and some of the guys were pretty rough characters. Anyway, someone mentioned a story about a guy who killed his pregnant girlfriend. One guy piped up: "he should be charged with double murder," to which all of the guys quickly agreed.

There is a more down to earth feel in many ways. I hope as this province grows we don't lose it.
And, for the third time lest I offend anyone, THERE ARE MANY GREAT PEOPLE IN ONTARIO!


The final, and most obvious difference is......


1.Bunnyhugs/Hoodies, of course!

What's a bunnyhug?

Boy was I shocked to find out that Ontario people don't call these things bunnyhugs. But I wasn't as shocked as they were to find out that I just call it a bunnyhug. They made fun of me for it!

"awww, you hug a bunny..."

Whatever, go put on your "hoodie-woodie."

We wear bunnyhugs, and we're proud of it.

Canada Day Weekend

This post is brought to you from mosquito-central. Anyone recall how I mentioned last month that the mosquitos were right around the corner? They're here in full-force and will likely stick around for a good long while thanks to our bug-friendly rain in the past week. But more on that for another post.

{Just give me a moment while I itch my leg}

We had a great Canada Day weekend! Did you?

We had a lovely visit from the Rogals (sister-in-law Elaine, brother-in-law Brendan, and our dear little god-daughter Catherine). Catherine and Joseph are about 2 1/2 months apart and quite the little characters together. The Rogals drove out Sunday morning from Saskatoon and met up with us at church in the morning. We sat down in the pew behind them and instantly the two littles were estatic to see one another. Joseph flapped his arms up and down, while Catherine grinned and patted his hands and head.



Testing out Grandpa's new lazy-boy

They are the best of friends and the worst of enemies, so to speak. Although very happy to see one another most of the time, they can get on the other's nerves occasionally. We saved them from a few mishaps over the weekend -- Catherine shoved Joseph over, knocking him on his head; Joseph "shared" his sand with Catherine at the beach. But they are unanimous in seeking out trouble, double trouble -- the cat was a little safer with Catherine and her gentler hands, but not much.

Their favourite bean-bag chair

"Here, have a taste!"

"We didn't do it"

We took our first trip to Tobin Lake over the weekend. It's not much of a white sand, beautiful water beach -- in fact, we joked about the water being sewage carried from Saskatchewan's major cities ("We're swimming in your poop, Elaine!") -- but it was a beautiful day. We didn't actually go swimming either, but hung out in the sand, grabbed an ice cream, and ate watermelon.

Joseph loved the sand. He wiggled his way to the edge of the beach blanket and picked up huge handfulls, meanwhile covering his legs and feet. Then the inevitable happened -- he just had to taste it! And he didn't mind the result... But I think he preferred the tiny taste of ice cream cone he got later, judging from his reaction -- his typical flapping arms with "hah, hah, hah". He had to be stripped naked and rinsed off before we diapered him up again for the ride home. Even then both Joseph and Catherine had a good srub down later that night.





We hope you enjoyed a lovely long weekend too. And an added wish that you aren't itching mosquito bites like we are!!