Sneak Preview

Did you know that The Hardy Party departs for England on May 26th? We are not sure how long we will be away, but the fact remains that whether it is 4 or 6 or 7 months we need to pack up our place. Soooo, on Saturday, May 7th we are having a little going away fundraiser. Below you'll find a little preview of some items for sale. There will be more on the day including paintings, prints, frames, books and accessories too. A bake sale with decadent treats, a raffle for great prizes and live music...all under one roof. Ours.

Please email bethanee@gmail.com for more details.

Bookshelf: $35. You can extend it/make it wider by pulling on one side. Not IKEA.

Black swivel chair: $15. Fully reclines and turns around. Great for video game playing guys or for kids of any age.

Cards: pack of 30 for $15. That is 50 cents per card. For different occasions. All are brand new either overstock from Carlton cards, and few of them my originals.

Silver wine rack: $12. This is brand new/tag still on. It fastens to the wall, not like in this picture.

Painting: $100. This acrylic piece has Umbra design flowers on it. If you do not have a picture rail, it looks great hanging from a silver bar that comes down from the ceiling (I can help you with this).

Baskets: $12 for all three. Barely used.

Pint glasses: $12 for 3 Erdinger pint glasses.

We would love to see you there. Also, we would love to see some lovely things go to a lovely home :)

Florida.

Florida was beautiful...and timely. It was refreshing to be with five youth who impressed us time and time again with their maturity and integrity.
Strangely, we really felt like we were in our element. Teenagers, a three year old, a crazy long drive and a week of spontaneous adventure in the hot weather . We couldn't have asked for more! Thank you, CTF Youth Network for an unforgettable time!

Do You Hear What I Hear?

For a long time now, I have wanted to play the fiddle.

I revealed this to Mark one year ago, and in the spring right before we went to Disney he surprised me with a violin to call my own. Of course, like any instrument, it was hidden in the laundry basket. Right? After folding some towels while casually chatting with Mark about his day I uncovered it (in its black case). Confused, I tried to convince myself it was something that a friend had left at our place. No, that wasn't it. It was mine...all mine.

He remembered.

Mum and dad Hardy bought me some lessons for Christmas. I have had three lessons and am now officially hooked. I like my teacher and I am even practicing. Woot.

What I really wanted to share with this post is a one of the two very profound experiences that motivate me to play the fiddle...

Two months after Hurricane Katrina, I went to New Orleans. I was the youngster in a group of adults whom I didn't really know. But they were going...so I went too. The disaster had truly moved me to the point where I HAD to help someway, somehow. Most days, we distributed items from a church facility that was still standing and undamaged. Diapers, soap, toilet paper, canned food, etc. We slept in a gymnasium with a curtain separating the women from the men. Strangely, nothing I wasn't used to as this is how we slept in Costa Rica (that story is for another time). One morning a group of us drove out into some of the harder-hit neighbourhoods with instruments. I remember the spray painted codes left on each house. Symbols left by policemen and firefighters saying not only had they searched the building, but also what they had found in there. The number of people, pets, etc.

The brownish water line had marked everything. This line was where the water finally settled long enough to leave its mark before finally disappearing..

So there we were, in the streets of New Orleans- a place known to be alive with music. It was eerie and quiet. I looked around and saw only a handful of people scattered down the long road...clearing up. We started off walking, singing along to a guitar and a drum beat. We sang songs about hope and about and Love. We wanted a break from the depressing distribution centre.

We wanted our music to bring LIFE to the streets. All of a sudden, Georgian Banov started to play the fiddle. This guy was AMAZING. That instrument alone could get anyone's foot tapping. It was like magic- we all perked up, the people we passed were smiling...like, genuinely. He played and played and played his heart out. Jigs and reels...man, it was fun.

I will never forget thinking, "I want to do that".

Eight months later I went back to New Orleans. This time, with my friend Jacob and two van-loads of youth. The main project that week was gutting a house for someone (clearing away the black mold and damage). It was really hard work. That time, there was no music to fuel us when we were feeling weak. We just kept going...and I really missed the fiddle.

I am glad to be starting to learn an instrument now that I am old enough to appreciate the opportunity. In grade 2, I didn't look forward to practicing piano. Now, I put Adelaide to bed and I go into Mark's studio to play. Sometimes he joins me with the guitar, and sometimes he retreats to the PS3 for a bit ;) So far, the journey has been an extra challenge added to my plate of balancing uni and motherhood...but I am sooo thankful for it.

Next time I will write about seeing Canada's own Natalie MacMaster play at a fundraising gala.
Talk about INSPIRING!

Perfector

I'm loving My Epic right now. Nothing like incredible music with a SOLID theology.

I'm still a young man so I think very little of death, but who really does till it's coming for them? And I know with each breath I come one closer, but death is just a hook behind the door where I'll leave my dirty clothes....

They may dump my body in the sea or spread my ashes miles wide, but it won't matter, all my parts will realign. They will rush to find each other when they hear their Lover's cry and death will be abandoned when He comes back for His bride!

Saints are never buried, they are seeds planted who bring about a greater harvest when they burst forth from the earth that needed their fruits, but it could never hope to make enough room for their roots.

Death is swallowed up, it owns nothing in me! Oh, death is swallowed up, it owns nothing in me!

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones!
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones! Oh, death is swallowed up!

Oh, it was always You! It was always You! Oh, it was always You! It was always You!
Oh, it was always You! It was always You! Oh, it was always You! It was always You!
Oh, it was always You! It was always You!

My Epic - Perfector

Warrior.

As many of you know, the precious boy that we have worked with for two years passed away at the end of October. It was sudden. It was devastating.

I won't go into how much his soul, his smile, and his family meant to us. I will say that through this experience we have learned a lot about family and about grieving together.
His mother, someone we both admire, expresses herself ever so eloquently on this blog:
The latest post is about how her other son (born two years after Owen) has found support at school...from his teacher and classmates. It is so beautiful that after wiping away tears I had to share it here. Children, in their innocence, can be enormous pillars of strength when given the chance. They amaze me.

At the funeral, I learned something else. I learned that Owen's name meant "warrior".
Of course it did.

I miss you, Owen.

Party time.

Gingerbread lattes...

I have been caffeine-free since the start of October. I don't feel very different, but it feels good to order my gingerbread latte decaf for some reason.
Every winter Mark and I joke about having to budget in warm beverages...we're that bad.
My favourite Second Cup, on King St. East is where we'll toast to the completion of my exams. The last one is tomorrow- and just imagine, I've gone through studying without my old friend caffeine :)