Alright, there has been a serious lack of Hardy Party thoughts published on this blog.
Unacceptable! Please do let me explain...
The winds of change are blowing at a speed seemingly equivalent to that of the tornado that sped through Woodbridge, Ontario only a week ago. Two new jobs, various new projects, new university year for me, new immigration status for Mark, new place to live, some new friends even. I am thankful that these are all very good & exciting changes. Yet in the midst of it all our feet have felt the beach, and I assure you that we truly surrendered to summer's warm, relaxing embrace over the last two months. OK, we surrendered a bit too much to ice cream, though (how else do you cope without air conditioning people?!).
Now the days are beginning to get shorter, and yesterday I wore a cardigan. Beloved summer is starting to let go.
Unacceptable! Please do let me explain...
The winds of change are blowing at a speed seemingly equivalent to that of the tornado that sped through Woodbridge, Ontario only a week ago. Two new jobs, various new projects, new university year for me, new immigration status for Mark, new place to live, some new friends even. I am thankful that these are all very good & exciting changes. Yet in the midst of it all our feet have felt the beach, and I assure you that we truly surrendered to summer's warm, relaxing embrace over the last two months. OK, we surrendered a bit too much to ice cream, though (how else do you cope without air conditioning people?!).
Now the days are beginning to get shorter, and yesterday I wore a cardigan. Beloved summer is starting to let go.
There are boxes & trusty blue IKEA bags on either side of me containing all of the material things we have managed to collect and call our possessions up until now. On Saturday we begin a new chapter of the Hardy Adventure Series, titled something like "Living in Community at Keele and St.Clair". The three Hardys, our cat Kramer, our friend Sallyanne, the wee baby girl inside her womb, and her kitten named Apple find ourselves sharing space and sharing our lives as one big family. We are SO excited. Our rented house sits across from a park with a soccer field, baseball diamond, kiddie park, and brilliant Early Learning Centre. We can walk to Little Italy, and Mark can cycle to work. My cheeks hurt from smiling :)
Adelaide is asleep on the couch (the only thing not packed). I wish you could see her- her adorableness all sprawled out. You would turn into a ball of mush!
So, now that somewhat of a legitimate update has been provided, what I am really thinking about is hospitality. Not like the kind you find at a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, which is rather lovely in it's own right. Instead, the kind that you find when you are sharing a meal specially cooked for you by someone with an attentive ear to your problems, your ponderings, your stories, jokes, and well being. You know, when your child could be having a screaming tantrum, and the other person's laundry might be piled nine feet high in plain sight, the garlic bread might be burnt, but you see a generous welcome in that someones eyes. You acknowledge the extent that special person went to serve you, and you kind of feel like a valued part of their beautiful mess.
To me, that is a snapshot of hospitality...and it goes beyond two friends or acquaintances. It has nothing to do with obligation or flattery and it has everything to do with caring for people and choosing community. It is a gift, is it not? Born out of the desire to serve, it has the potential to evolve into something powerful, creative and wonderful. Hospitality is especially memorable when it occurs between strangers, or people who barely know each other. As I look back, I can recall instances of what I can only describe as humbling hospitality- I will have to write soon about my visit to Beijing, which is the first example that comes to mind.
I have been thinking about hospitality because I really like it and desperately want to cultivate that gift in our home. I have been combining this thought with a quote running through my head recently, "whatever you do to the least of these, you do to Me." -JesusThat brings me to my final thought for this post. With having received enormous amounts patience and help from my mom and dad this past year of living with them, it is them I have to thank for giving me an appreciation for hospitality in it's many forms, colours, tastes and smells. Whether it is for a meal, a celebration, or a place to sleep, my parents have always shown me how to give the best of what I have to people that need it by the way they opened their home. And even if they don't necessarily need it, people who are worth the effort.
The same can most definitely be said about Mark's mum & dad.
And I can only hope that we raise our sleeping Adelaide (omg, she is so flipping cute!) in such a way that she looks back on an open-door policy, and years of sharing our lives intimately with extended family & friends and sees something real and a kindness that sometimes resembles a beautiful mess. Not always easy, but beautiful ;)
Adelaide is asleep on the couch (the only thing not packed). I wish you could see her- her adorableness all sprawled out. You would turn into a ball of mush!
So, now that somewhat of a legitimate update has been provided, what I am really thinking about is hospitality. Not like the kind you find at a quaint bed and breakfast on the outskirts of the city, which is rather lovely in it's own right. Instead, the kind that you find when you are sharing a meal specially cooked for you by someone with an attentive ear to your problems, your ponderings, your stories, jokes, and well being. You know, when your child could be having a screaming tantrum, and the other person's laundry might be piled nine feet high in plain sight, the garlic bread might be burnt, but you see a generous welcome in that someones eyes. You acknowledge the extent that special person went to serve you, and you kind of feel like a valued part of their beautiful mess.
To me, that is a snapshot of hospitality...and it goes beyond two friends or acquaintances. It has nothing to do with obligation or flattery and it has everything to do with caring for people and choosing community. It is a gift, is it not? Born out of the desire to serve, it has the potential to evolve into something powerful, creative and wonderful. Hospitality is especially memorable when it occurs between strangers, or people who barely know each other. As I look back, I can recall instances of what I can only describe as humbling hospitality- I will have to write soon about my visit to Beijing, which is the first example that comes to mind.
I have been thinking about hospitality because I really like it and desperately want to cultivate that gift in our home. I have been combining this thought with a quote running through my head recently, "whatever you do to the least of these, you do to Me." -Jesus
My favourite thing about Mark tattooing from home is making the coffee and tea. Honestly. I really really enjoy it. I get out a tray, and one of our cute tea pots, our favourite mugs...OK, stop laughing. It is the narrative that gets me though. I love it when people I have never met feel comfortable enough tell their story, even just the recent news over a cuppa. With Mark's new spot at I Love Mom Tattoos, I am going to have to fill our place with more people to make coffee & tea for. I am already fantasizing about making the peach-marscapone pie recipe I uncovered.
The same can most definitely be said about Mark's mum & dad.
And I can only hope that we raise our sleeping Adelaide (omg, she is so flipping cute!) in such a way that she looks back on an open-door policy, and years of sharing our lives intimately with extended family & friends and sees something real and a kindness that sometimes resembles a beautiful mess. Not always easy, but beautiful ;)
"Zaccheus, you come down from there,
For I'm going to your house today"
-Jesus
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