Buttons and Bows

The return to work, feeling groggy and fuzzy-brained after the holidays, should not be a surprise. We've experienced early mornings (got to get to the ski hill/shopping mall sales) and late nights being social. It's no wonder that it's taken me until today (Wednesday) to start to feel more like myself. Tonight's goal - put away the remainder of the Christmas "stuff". Won't my space seem huge after the clean up is done.

If you've been as fortunate as me, after you've put away the fancy boxes and packaged the bows (for use next year), you're left facing some brand new toys. Each one with instructions in various languages, English will do, thank you. Which one do I tackle first?

Am I the only one who needs one more week of time off to read through, practise, and play to feel more comfortable with these gifts? Why are there now so many buttons, screens and dials in my life?

I am excited but cautious about the learning I will be doing.

I remember a 2-wheeler with a big red bow and a wobbly start. I have to have faith that my camera and e-book reader will ultimately become a part of me just like my bike did after a few crashes and skinned knees.

There was no such thing as helmets back then, but today at least my toys come with user manuals.

The Name We Got

Many years ago, my kindergarten aged son came home one day to share the story of his new friend, Beige. He was astounded by her name, as was I. My five year old had mastered the obligatory red, blue, green and yellow. He was inquisitive by nature and delighted as cobalt, mustard and emerald entered his colourful world. But Beige? And attached to a person? This fully intrigued him!

I wonder what became of Beige, now that she is an adult. Did she scramble at 18 as fast as she could to change her name? Or did she hold fast to her uniqueness and uphold her Beige-ness? Did she camouflage herself in bright and bold, or did she stay non-descript?

In a recent volunteer experience, one question to newly english speaking participants was "what is the origin of your name; what can you tell us about why your parents chose your name"? Most told of favourite relatives they were named after, flashy movie stars (a young man who chose Ryan said "you know...Meg Ryan"!) but the one I remember most fondly is the sweet, soft-spoken girl whose name in her native language meant "the song of the summer breeze".

So whether you are a Bertha, a Brittany or a Beige - does your name dictate who you will BE? What do you think?