Happy Birthday to my blog

This is my 22nd post. I am also 22 years old. Happy birthday, blog. That makes logical sense, doesn't it? Well, at very least, Happy Thanksgiving, blog.

The first news that I simply must share with you is that MY PHONE WORKS! Yes, the Webcall people finally produced the magic. So I can call and receive calls and be on the internet all at the same time. Therefore if you have my number, you should give me a Happy Thanksgiving call. Or just a brief hello. Heck, I don't even mind if you're soliciting.

The pictures on this blog entry are brought to you by Bowen Island. "Bowen Island - a beautiful choice for your next personal retreat!" Ok, I made that up. But it IS a beautiful place. For your next retreat. Or even for a picnic. My favorite experience on the Island was when I broke the rules of my solitude to ask a little boy what he was doing - he was turning over rocks by the shore and squealing in delight. He quickly showed me that every rock had a dozen or so little crabs under it, and they went scuttling off when you moved the rock. So I gladly joined him in his game for a while. When I got home, I reprimanded Danice for failing to tell me the secret of the rocks, which I could not have known, coming from Saskatoon. She said, "You don't have crabs?" Which was a very funny question on its own. I informed her that the only crabs I'd ever seen in Saskatoon were in big aquariums in Safeway. And in my grandma's salads.

Here's another wildlife story for you. The other day, I was sitting on the Rock and I saw this bird flying in my direction. I said to myself, "That is not a seagull. That is not even a crow." I fumbled for my binoculars like the geek that I am, and followed the magnificent creature with them as it flew directly over my head. I gasped - "That was a real live honest-to-goodness BALD EAGLE!" I'm not sure, but I believe I actually said that out loud. One of the synoptic ducks seemed to be sniggering at me. But anyway, the reason I include this story in my blog is that I can't think of a name for this bald eagle. I feel like it has to be a really regal, majestic name, not like Martin or Phil or Spencer, some of my other Rock friends. So if you have a name suggestion for a real live bald eagle, please let me know in a comment. Ah, audience participation.

I should probably talk briefly about my classes. Hebrew is extremely frustrating right now. Too many rules and too many exceptions to those rules that the textbook doesn't seem concerned about sharing with you. Old Testament is my favorite class. My prof has a question box. Yesterday, someone asked whether the Pentateuch wasn't really a hobbit (think Peregrin Took). Yes, we Regent students are witty. My prof, who is Scottish and Tolkien-obsessed, spoke for about three minutes about the genealogy of the Took family. Ha. In my Christian Spirit class, we learned about Simon Stylites, who spent 36 years of his life on the top of a 60-foot pillar (to prove his devotion to God). Finally, my Christian Thought and Culture class gives me a chance to ponder the large questions, like the Trinity, and usually drives me crazy in a good way.

No, I still haven't bought a raincoat or an umbrella. The thing with the umbrella is I feel like it should be cool. I don't want Vancouverians to look at me and say, "Look at that girl with the cheap, ugly umbrella. She's most definitely from the prairies." So you see, I need to make a bold statement. There is also the question of portability (ie. small and flimsy) vs. durability (large and awkward). People tell me there is an umbrella store here. Just for umbrellas. $100 ones with lifetime guarantees. Crazy Vancouverians.

Well, this is getting long. I'd better save Jacob's Well stories for another day. Enjoy your turkey!

Beth

P.S. Christine comes to visit me in 14 days! Woot!