An Old Friend or a New Enemy?

I’m sitting in a Starbucks in Regina, and I’m on holidays. That changes everything. There’s a bit more space in my head, a bit more freedom to experiment, and less pressure to stick to my usual routines. So I decided to make a small moment out of an ordinary day: I opened my calendar and marked it down—September 13, 2026, Regina—the day I tried a pumpkin spice latte again for the first time in years.

When pumpkin spice lattes first showed up, I was completely taken with them. I loved the flavor. Sure, they were too sweet for me, but I accepted the sugar overload because the taste felt worth it. It was a treat, and it felt like a seasonal signal—like fall could be ordered in a cup.

Then the bandwagon got crowded. Everybody piled on, and the whole thing started to feel noisy. It wasn’t just the drink anymore. Suddenly the flavor was everywhere. Cereal, bread, donuts, pop, tea—honestly, the list kept going. It felt like the world grabbed the idea and squeezed it until it was no longer special. So I hopped off. I didn’t want pumpkin spice to follow me down every grocery aisle.

Lately, though, I’ve noticed something. Some of those companies seem to be backing away from the whole pumpkin spice everything approach, and going back to what they normally do. The hype has cooled off a little. And that made me curious. Maybe it was safe to try again. Maybe I could have the drink without the whole circus that came with it.

So I ordered one. And yeah—it was sweet. Still sweet. But it was also good. It tasted like an old friend you haven’t seen in a long time, where you remember exactly why you liked them in the first place. I’m sitting here now, sipping it slowly, and it isn’t half bad.

Outside, the weather is starting to turn cool. The trees are beginning to shift color. Everything is leaning toward fall, and this drink fits that mood perfectly. It’s funny how a flavor can match a season, not just outside but inside you too.

I don’t know if this means I’m fully back on the pumpkin spice train, but I can tell you this: it feels like a small second start. A tiny reset. And if I’m being practical, I’ve got Starbucks cards that need to be used, and there are worse ways to spend them than on expensive drinks that make a regular afternoon feel like a mini event.

All the best. I’m heading back to my holidays. 

—letters from vacation. 

Salad with my lunch

Along the lines of everyone needs to see what I eat as per instagram, here is my lunch from yesterdays meetings photographed in all its vegetable glory.

People Helping. There is much to be done.

People helping. That still energizes me even after all these years. You can make such a huge difference in a persons life if you are willing to get involved and help.

Last week Lauralea and I were having dinner in a lovely little Indian restaurant in the city, when a very drunk individual staggered in and weaved over to our table and started to yell and talk and be very crude and wide ranging in his emotions.  I was patiently waiting for the manager to come in and remove him from the premises.  Well when he came in, he was a diminutive man, an immigrant who was just trying to run his little slice of India. He tried to move the man along but then the inebriated fellow turned on him and started to move towards him. The yelling increased and then came the racist onslaught towards the owner. They were moving away from me now and the drunk fellow had his back to me, but when he started into the whole, "This isn't your country and you should go back to where you came from!" and then brought in something accusatory about natives, that was enough and I was up and moving towards the confrontation. 

I sometimes wonder how I would react in those sorts of events and thankfully this one played out without any great physical violence being done. I was bigger than the staggering fellow and was able to put my arm around him and eventually convince him to come with me outside.  Finally we got him out the door and stood outside while he yelled and then ultimately sobbed in a drunken display and I was his best friend ever. Sadly classic.  I finally got him to move along. 

Upon reflection I had wondered if I might be needed to assist in removing him from the premises, but it was when he became clearly racist that I found myself standing up and moving towards them. I can't stand that garbage.  It just tears down and destroys lives and hearts. 

When I reentered the restaurant I told the man, who was very concerned for my safety, that what the guy had said was a lie. That this was his country and his home and he was very welcome here.   

My conclusion is that there are far worse ways to spend your life, than helping people face the difficult realities of the day. It's good work.

We ate an amazing dinner of Indian wonders and I tipped the guy well because you shouldn't have to face such oppression because of your skin colour or your country of origin or culture or tongue.  I wanted him to know that he was home and among family.

Lemon Meringue Pie

Tonight Lauralea and I were invited over to a deck supper at a farm out here. The food was brought in by a chef who certainly knew his way around a smoker.

BBQ smoked ribs and chicken, beans, salads, roast potatoes, and on and on.

Then there was this lemon meringue pie. Now, for whatever reason I don’t like lemon meringue pie. I can’t remember when I stopped eating it but over the years Lauralea would try to make it and I was having none of it.

Until tonight. When what I can only describe as a mood overtook me, (it may have been from all that meat). I was in a mood to have a wee slice.

Well, it was nothing like I remember it to be. Fresh, tart and sweet, it was just good. I enjoyed it.

So now I have to rethink life WITH lemon meringue pie IN it. It’s almost an existential crisis trying to process this at 57. But it seems I do like it.

Now I have to work up the nerve to tell Herself. ;)

On how I eat my popcorn to maximise clean fingers.

Why yes, I DO eat my popcorn with chopsticks. Thank you very much. #cleanfingers

Post Christmas reflection

Tomorrow I head back to work to pick up where I left off last week.  (I took an extra day this week mostly because last week turned into more of a work week for us. That's ok, life with all its unique challenges and loves.)

But Christmas seemed to be a good time around here. Hillary and Micah came home to help us celebrate, which was good. And the others called and connected with their words of missing us. It IS nice to be missed by the kids. Better than to not be missed.

We ate well, (Could we do any less with Herself at the oven controls?) Played many games, watched a few movies, talked about life and future, worshiped together, prayed together, and the like. It seemed like a good time.

Next week I need to finalize my year end stuff and get ready for the Annual Meeting with all the end of year meetings, reports and plans. Then the week after that it looks like I am off to meetings in Denver. I am on a board now with our denomination that works with and cares for it pastors and leaders. I am curious to see what that looks like and how I can fit into that work there.

And hey, there is a new baby on the way. Thomas and Terri Lynn are expecting and there is more joy and more love that suddenly pops into place for this new little one that is preparing to enter this world.

So much prayer is needed for these little ones that are coming into a struggling world. And my timeline to offer up those prayers grows less and less with each passing year, so I need to be on that work pretty intentionally.

So hopes and prayers that this year is a truck load better than last year was. And while I may not know where it leads, I am pretty confident in the One who does know where the year will lead.

Many continued Christmas Blessings from here in The Field.

Adulting Fun

I don’t love love cakes, cookies, sweets, squares, strudels, and many pies.
But I do enjoy an occasional chocolate bar.

Today I realized that one of the very best things about being an adult, is that I can go into any store and buy the chocolate bar of my choice, or five!

I remember being a kid and wishing for the day I could buy my own bar.  Now I can.

There are ways in which adulting can be the best thing ever.

Mmmmmm. Cheeeeeese.

Cheese.

Its complex. It's simple.
You buy it for 100g a dollar.
Or you buy it for 100g for $10.00.

Well, mostly we DON'T buy it for 100g for $10.00.

But last Sunday, I don't know, maybe I was giddy from the falling rain. Maybe it was because it was payday. Or maybe it was because Lauralea begged me to get it, but I got it.

We bought 200 grams of this luscious stuff. Corsu Vecchiu.

Corsu Vecchiu is a French sheep’s milk cheese from the Mediterranean island of Corsica. It is an unpasteurized cheese that is semi-firm in texture and made into wheels that are approximately 3 to 5 pounds. It is aged for around 6 months and develops a rustic grey rind. Its pate is ivory colored with slight eye formation and dense in texture. Its flavor is rich, nutty and somewhat sweet with salty and rustic undertones.


Wow was it good. Smooth as soft candy.
But maybe thats as far as I'll go with the description.

"I asked for the LARGE stack of pancakes!"

This was embarrassing. I ordered the pancakes at a meeting this morning and they were HUGE. All I could eat was a small corner of the pile. Like I said, embarrassing.