Comments for OK Canada Write http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace Think it * Write it * Share it Mon, 14 Jun 2010 06:11:55 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.9.2 hourly 1 Comment on Gina by Car radio install http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=87&cpage=1#comment-1042 Car radio install Mon, 14 Jun 2010 06:11:55 +0000 http://richhelms.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=87#comment-1042 thanks for this great post wow... it's very wonderful thanks for this great post wow… it’s very wonderful

]]> Comment on Bloomin’ Story Starters by Linda Dawn Pettigrew http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=488&cpage=1#comment-989 Linda Dawn Pettigrew Tue, 30 Mar 2010 11:55:40 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=488#comment-989 Love it! Such an action-packed descriptive piece on family life. Thanks for sharing. Love it! Such an action-packed descriptive piece on family life. Thanks for sharing.

]]> Comment on Bloomin’ Story Starters by Patricia Anne Elford http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=488&cpage=1#comment-985 Patricia Anne Elford Mon, 29 Mar 2010 02:48:05 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=488#comment-985 The Sound Barrier Crash! The house shook and dishes rattled in the china cabinet. Tim slid deeper under the desk, pulling his little black dog, Timbit, tightly to his chest. She was at it again. No doubt about it. Every time Brundy thumped through her dancing exercises, the entire house was her partner, matching bump to thump. Perhaps they could afford to turn the cellar into a finished basement, Tim thought as Tlmbit shivered against him. Surely the vibration would be less. Perhaps Mom and Dad could send her to a class a few blocks away? A few miles away? Not good enough! She would still practise her clumsy bump-and-destroy at home. Tim peered across the room at the wall crack that had extended just a little bit more, beginning each day at 7:30 a.m., when the music and earth-shifting began. It wasn’t that Brundy was fat; her build wasn’t even heavy. It was the way she moved. When she tip-toed, divots sputtered from the carpet. When Brundy flailed her arms in what were intended to be graceful circles, Sing-sing, their Siamese, yowled, running for cover; the curtains twirled into knotted confusion. When Brundy leaped, ah, when she leaped, the ceiling below her room pelted paint and plaster and the partially denuded chandelier danced a cacophonous jig. Nothing was safe. Tim watched now as mother’s favourite spider plant slowly tilted from the opposite table and bowed a muddy farewell in a pile of broken blue and white china on the floor. No encore? Thank goodness, no encore! The room was still. Desert-white dust coated the rug, surrounding the oasis of spider plant and dampened soil. Timbit bravely puttered over to paw at the plant and lick it. Tim slowly eased from his protective desk cave to review today’s damage before they caught the bus for school. Brundy, damp ponytail bouncing, eyes flashing, cheeks rosy, thundered out to the bus stop. Tim picked up the curtain rod that had fallen from the hooks on the door and shifted the curtain into place on the door’s small window. Mom was going to have a fit when she came home from work and saw the most recent response to Brundy’s “dancing”. Someday, Tim would say something to his sister. Someday. 373 words The Sound Barrier
Crash!
The house shook and dishes rattled in the china cabinet. Tim slid deeper under the desk, pulling his little black dog, Timbit, tightly to his chest.
She was at it again. No doubt about it. Every time Brundy thumped through her dancing exercises, the entire house was her partner, matching bump to thump.
Perhaps they could afford to turn the cellar into a finished basement, Tim thought as Tlmbit shivered against him. Surely the vibration would be less. Perhaps Mom and Dad could send her to a class a few blocks away? A few miles away? Not good enough! She would still practise her clumsy bump-and-destroy at home. Tim peered across the room at the wall crack that had extended just a little bit more, beginning each day at 7:30 a.m., when the music and earth-shifting began.
It wasn’t that Brundy was fat; her build wasn’t even heavy. It was the way she moved. When she tip-toed, divots sputtered from the carpet. When Brundy flailed her arms in what were intended to be graceful circles, Sing-sing, their Siamese, yowled, running for cover; the curtains twirled into knotted confusion. When Brundy leaped, ah, when she leaped, the ceiling below her room pelted paint and plaster and the partially denuded chandelier danced a cacophonous jig. Nothing was safe.
Tim watched now as mother’s favourite spider plant slowly tilted from the opposite table and bowed a muddy farewell in a pile of broken blue and white china on the floor.
No encore? Thank goodness, no encore!
The room was still. Desert-white dust coated the rug, surrounding the oasis of spider plant and dampened soil. Timbit bravely puttered over to paw at the plant and lick it. Tim slowly eased from his protective desk cave to review today’s damage before they caught the bus for school.
Brundy, damp ponytail bouncing, eyes flashing, cheeks rosy, thundered out to the bus stop. Tim picked up the curtain rod that had fallen from the hooks on the door and shifted the curtain into place on the door’s small window.
Mom was going to have a fit when she came home from work and saw the most recent response to Brundy’s “dancing”. Someday, Tim would say something to his sister. Someday.
373 words

]]> Comment on Bloomin’ Story Starters by Pam Mytroen http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=488&cpage=1#comment-983 Pam Mytroen Sat, 27 Mar 2010 02:07:49 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=488#comment-983 Crash! The house shook and dishes rattled in the china cabinet. Tim slid deeper under the desk, pulling his little black dog, Timbit tightly to his chest. Great. I won’t get to try out the new Go-Karts tonight. He kicked a broken picture frame away from the desk. Dad won’t take me now. ‘Another earthquake.’ Another excuse to leave me at home alone again. Tim heard the crash before he felt the second shake. A tree fell through the dining room doors. Glass splintered and scattered across the floor. Timbit whined. Tim pulled his feet in under the desk. “Look boy, there’s a tree in our house.” But Tim didn’t feel as cheerful as he sounded. Pffffft. Rain pitter-pattered the stone patio outside. A breeze blew in and ruffled Timbit’s fur. He jumped from Tim’s arms and slid across the floor to the broken patio doors. “No! Timbit. Come back here.” Tim crawled from his safe space. “Timbit!” The puppy ran outside. Tim heard barking. He picked his way through the broken glass and stepped over the shards remaining upright in the door-frame. “Timbit!” It was bad enough that he wouldn’t get to see the Go-Karts tonight. Now Timbit was out on the street. If his dad caught him outside he would ground him. “It’s Dad’s fault that I’m out here chasing Timbit. If he was home this wouldn’t have happened.” Large branches covered the street. A tree had squashed a car. Sirens wailed in the distance. Tim ran across the grass and jumped over the sidewalk. “Timbit!” The rain came down harder. Soon a current was running down the street, driven by a strong wind. Timbit doesn’t like the rain. Maybe he’ll come back home. Tim called for his puppy. The wind stopped. Tim didn’t like the silence. He thought there might be another earthquake coming. He heard crying. No, it was whining. “Timbit!” More wimpering. Tim ran towards the sound of his puppy. He had fallen down a hole at a construction site. “I’m here, Timbit. It’s okay. I’ll get you out.” Tim laid on the muddy ground and dangled his arm into the hole. Almost! Timbit licked his fingertips. If he just eased over a bit more he could pick up his puppy by the collar. “Oh no!” Tim felt himself sliding. He dug in with his runners but the mud slid down into the hole and carried him with it. Timbit barked and licked Tim’s face. “Now Dad’s going to be really mad,” said Tim, rolling over and trying to stand in the slippery mud. The bottom of the hole started to fill with water. “How are we going to get out of here?” Timbit barked but Tim could hardly hear him over the splashing rain and howling wind. How would his Dad ever hear Tim calling? Would he find Tim before the water level rose too high? Or did his Dad care enough to even come home tonight? Crash!
The house shook and dishes rattled in the china cabinet. Tim slid deeper under the desk, pulling his little black dog, Timbit tightly to his chest.
Great. I won’t get to try out the new Go-Karts tonight. He kicked a broken picture frame away from the desk. Dad won’t take me now. ‘Another earthquake.’ Another excuse to leave me at home alone again.
Tim heard the crash before he felt the second shake. A tree fell through the dining room doors. Glass splintered and scattered across the floor. Timbit whined. Tim pulled his feet in under the desk.
“Look boy, there’s a tree in our house.” But Tim didn’t feel as cheerful as he sounded.
Pffffft. Rain pitter-pattered the stone patio outside. A breeze blew in and ruffled Timbit’s fur. He jumped from Tim’s arms and slid across the floor to the broken patio doors.
“No! Timbit. Come back here.” Tim crawled from his safe space. “Timbit!”
The puppy ran outside. Tim heard barking. He picked his way through the broken glass and stepped over the shards remaining upright in the door-frame. “Timbit!”
It was bad enough that he wouldn’t get to see the Go-Karts tonight. Now Timbit was out on the street. If his dad caught him outside he would ground him.
“It’s Dad’s fault that I’m out here chasing Timbit. If he was home this wouldn’t have happened.”
Large branches covered the street. A tree had squashed a car. Sirens wailed in the distance.
Tim ran across the grass and jumped over the sidewalk. “Timbit!” The rain came down harder. Soon a current was running down the street, driven by a strong wind.
Timbit doesn’t like the rain. Maybe he’ll come back home. Tim called for his puppy.
The wind stopped. Tim didn’t like the silence. He thought there might be another earthquake coming. He heard crying. No, it was whining.
“Timbit!” More wimpering. Tim ran towards the sound of his puppy. He had fallen down a hole at a construction site.
“I’m here, Timbit. It’s okay. I’ll get you out.” Tim laid on the muddy ground and dangled his arm into the hole. Almost! Timbit licked his fingertips. If he just eased over a bit more he could pick up his puppy by the collar.
“Oh no!” Tim felt himself sliding. He dug in with his runners but the mud slid down into the hole and carried him with it.
Timbit barked and licked Tim’s face.
“Now Dad’s going to be really mad,” said Tim, rolling over and trying to stand in the slippery mud.
The bottom of the hole started to fill with water. “How are we going to get out of here?”
Timbit barked but Tim could hardly hear him over the splashing rain and howling wind. How would his Dad ever hear Tim calling? Would he find Tim before the water level rose too high? Or did his Dad care enough to even come home tonight?

]]> Comment on Gina by Ramona Furst http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=87&cpage=1#comment-979 Ramona Furst Wed, 24 Mar 2010 14:06:48 +0000 http://richhelms.ca/ginaspace/?page_id=87#comment-979 Gina, Its so good to 'see'you! Your face shines the love of God. I was sitting on a heating pad in Florida a little while ago. Florida and heating pads, now those are words that are hard to put down usually in one sentance?! With the rain pounding against the window pane and the strong winds whisling through the palm trees, I listend quietly through two c.d.'s. Two sermons by two different ministers,in two countries. It dawned on me that a third speaker had been talking about the same theme on line in Canada before I came to house/teen sit for my friend. Okay Lord,I kinda got your point during the second time that I needed to listen up, but three times- isn't that just over kill? By the time I had finished the c.d. tears were streaming down my face, in place of the rain outside that had finally let up. The warmth in my heart had replaced the need for the heating pad. Later, as a woman from the neighborhood came by briefly for a cup of coffee and to say hallo; she launched into her story about her week. As suddenly as she had started she stopped and looked at me. "Ramona, how as your week been? You look so at peace. Your face is shining!" Oh how I wanted to hug her, to laugh outloud and lift up my hands in praise?! Throughout the c.d's and sermons my prayer was: "O Lord, may not only my words,actions, but my entire life in all that I do, be a Godly reflection of YOU. Just like that experience of Moses that when he came down from the mountain after his time with His LORD, he had to where a veil. I have a long way to go yet to get there. But my friends words were so perfectly timed. So I'll keep trucking along and praising Him Say hallo to the family Gina, and tell them Corbin's Auntie is praying. Gina,
Its so good to ’see’you! Your face shines the love of God.

I was sitting on a heating pad in Florida a little while ago. Florida and heating pads, now those are words that are hard to put down usually in one sentance?!
With the rain pounding against the window pane and the strong winds whisling through the palm trees, I listend quietly through two c.d.’s. Two sermons by two different ministers,in two countries. It dawned on me that a third speaker had been talking about the same theme on line in Canada before I came to house/teen sit for my friend. Okay Lord,I kinda got your point during the second time that I needed to listen up, but three times- isn’t that just over kill?
By the time I had finished the c.d. tears were streaming down my face, in place of the rain outside that had finally let up. The warmth in my heart had replaced the need for the heating pad.

Later, as a woman from the neighborhood came by briefly for a cup of coffee and to say hallo; she launched into her story about her week. As suddenly as she had started she stopped and looked at me.
“Ramona, how as your week been? You look so at peace. Your face is shining!”

Oh how I wanted to hug her, to laugh outloud and lift up my hands in praise?!
Throughout the c.d’s and sermons my prayer was: “O Lord, may not only my words,actions, but my entire life in all that I do, be a Godly reflection of YOU. Just like that experience of Moses that when he came down from the mountain after his time with His LORD, he had to where a veil.

I have a long way to go yet to get there. But my friends words were so perfectly timed. So I’ll keep trucking along and praising Him

Say hallo to the family Gina, and tell them Corbin’s Auntie is praying.

]]> Comment on Scriptural Tea by Bonnie-Jean Yeates http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=446&cpage=1#comment-150 Bonnie-Jean Yeates Tue, 20 Oct 2009 12:52:41 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=446#comment-150 It really makes you stop and think what is it really that stops us from praying for others and shamefully we may have to admit it is pride. That stubborn child within us that says why should I be nice to someone who is so mean to me it's not fair. Pride comes in many forms and not praying for our enemies is one way the ulgy head surfaces and we can call it many other thngs until we acknowledge it is pride. It isn't easy to just dismiss the pride factor either it is God who you need to take it to admit and have him work within you. It is very awakening to have God show you sides of yourself that are not the compassion, kind or caring person you may hope you project but it is important for us to see all of our faults as well so we can truly apprciate his gift even more. Hurt comes in many forms and if our is showing in pride why wouldn't our enemies also be shown through pride that strikes out. Thanks for the food for thought and self realization Gina It really makes you stop and think what is it really that stops us from praying for others and shamefully we may have to admit it is pride. That stubborn child within us that says why should I be nice to someone who is so mean to me it’s not fair. Pride comes in many forms and not praying for our enemies is one way the ulgy head surfaces and we can call it many other thngs until we acknowledge it is pride. It isn’t easy to just dismiss the pride factor either it is God who you need to take it to admit and have him work within you. It is very awakening to have God show you sides of yourself that are not the compassion, kind or caring person you may hope you project but it is important for us to see all of our faults as well so we can truly apprciate his gift even more. Hurt comes in many forms and if our is showing in pride why wouldn’t our enemies also be shown through pride that strikes out. Thanks for the food for thought and self realization Gina

]]> Comment on Procrastination is not good. by Klaas Tuinman http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434&cpage=1#comment-149 Klaas Tuinman Tue, 20 Oct 2009 12:29:00 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434#comment-149 Procrastination is a bad thing? Wow - what will somebody think of next? Like, c'mon, all there is, is "today", and we can only do in it what we can get around to, or what we can actually accomplish. And so often, regardless of the good, well-intentioned plans, life come along and other things pop up, and bingo! next thing you know the day is done and many of the task we has planned to do, or should have done, didn't. Never has been a problem for me - after all, there's always "tomorrow"; something we are taught not to worry about :-) So, does that mean that doing what we can, and ignoring our teachings about not worrying about tomorrow has now become a thing of the past and we have to switch gears into some new-fangled approach to things? Doesn't sound overly kosher to me. So let's just all sit down, pour a cup of coffee or tea, put our feet up, re-schedule the day in our minds, and work up the steam to "get at it". . . . whatever it is.... uh, well, okay - in a minute :-) Love your site and writing sis. Keep up the good work :-) Procrastination is a bad thing?
Wow – what will somebody think of next?
Like, c’mon, all there is, is “today”, and we can only do in it what we can get around to, or what we can actually accomplish.

And so often, regardless of the good, well-intentioned plans, life come along and other things pop up, and bingo! next thing you know the day is done and many of the task we has planned to do, or should have done, didn’t.
Never has been a problem for me – after all, there’s always “tomorrow”; something we are taught not to worry about :-)

So, does that mean that doing what we can, and ignoring our teachings about not worrying about tomorrow has now become a thing of the past and we have to switch gears into some new-fangled approach to things?
Doesn’t sound overly kosher to me.

So let’s just all sit down, pour a cup of coffee or tea, put our feet up, re-schedule the day in our minds, and work up the steam to “get at it”. . . . whatever it is…. uh, well, okay – in a minute :-)

Love your site and writing sis.

Keep up the good work :-)

]]> Comment on Procrastination is not good. by Carol Merrill http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434&cpage=1#comment-145 Carol Merrill Mon, 19 Oct 2009 15:25:08 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434#comment-145 Gina - I do believe you have just scraped the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how we can procrastinate throughout our daily living. I have come to the conclusion that if I must procrastinate in completing a particular event, assignment or chore, it is only because I have procrastinated longer on an another issue that needs to be dealt with first! Gina – I do believe you have just scraped the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how we can procrastinate throughout our daily living. I have come to the conclusion that if I must procrastinate in completing a particular event, assignment or chore, it is only because I have procrastinated longer on an another issue that needs to be dealt with first!

]]> Comment on Procrastination is not good. by Sheri Simpson http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434&cpage=1#comment-143 Sheri Simpson Mon, 19 Oct 2009 04:15:24 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434#comment-143 I procrastinate but try not to. I procrastinated reading this, though it sat on one of my computer tabs for 2 days. I do have an excuse...my baby boy but you should see my inbox. It is so full and I just keep procrastinating even more to read the messages. I am sure glad that others do it, and I am sure glad that my aunts do it too:) I procrastinate but try not to. I procrastinated reading this, though it sat on one of my computer tabs for 2 days. I do have an excuse…my baby boy but you should see my inbox. It is so full and I just keep procrastinating even more to read the messages. I am sure glad that others do it, and I am sure glad that my aunts do it too:)

]]> Comment on Procrastination is not good. by Ronda http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434&cpage=1#comment-142 Ronda Sun, 18 Oct 2009 23:40:37 +0000 http://okcanadawrite.ca/ginaspace/?p=434#comment-142 Well as far as I am concerned to procrastinate is a good thing..Look at it this way: #1..PRO..being an expert in any field ..#2CRAS(S)..ignorant...#3.TIN..often things are referred to as cheap as tin..#4..ATE..This is a good thing else we wouldn't be alive if we hadn't ate our food..We should be proud to be called "Procastinators".....We are experts or specialists excelling in being able to ignore those cheap, meanless, petty, lowly tasks and instead are able to excel in the wonderous feelings of satisfaction we received from those delectible goodies we just ate that substain our bodies to live.. Now do you feel better about being a PROCRASTINATOR????? Well as far as I am concerned to procrastinate is a good thing..Look at it this way: #1..PRO..being an expert in any field ..#2CRAS(S)..ignorant…#3.TIN..often things are referred to as cheap as tin..#4..ATE..This is a good thing else we wouldn’t be alive if we hadn’t ate our food..We should be proud to be called “Procastinators”…..We are experts or specialists excelling in being able to ignore those cheap, meanless, petty, lowly tasks and instead are able to excel in the wonderous feelings of satisfaction we received from those delectible goodies we just ate that substain our bodies to live.. Now do you feel better about being a PROCRASTINATOR?????

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