testing, 1 ... 2 ...

Hey ... :)

So it's been awhile.

But life is so good. I'm SO very grateful, truly.

We moved into a beautiful condo, perhaps the loveliest place we've ever lived. I still miss our giant back yard, with its gardens and hammock and private, ramble-y, slightly overgrown feel. I miss our north-end neighbours. But ... that's ok. We have scads of sunshine in this new place, and we're in a city that is filled with ramble-y adventures and #MontrealMoments, so I'm not complaining.

Not even a little bit.

I've discovered dumplings, and last week had them IN Chinatown. Before moving to this city, I didn't know dumplings were a thing, as in "let's go for dumplings". Dear merciful heavens above, I have been MISSING OUT. It's possible I have a mild dumpling addiction now.

I'm ok with that.

And spring is coming.

My favourite season.

Plans are being made to head to Ukraine soon, so I'm all a-twitter about that.

#landilove

And The Boy and I managed to assemble a chest of drawers this weekend from Ikea, without significantly damaging our marriage.

Impressive, right?

Anyway. I've missed you. Hope you're well! 😀

journals

This morning, I brought another journal to an end.

This one was giant-sized and ornate, not my usual choice. But at the time, it felt like a significant moment was about to happen, and although I had absolutely no idea what that might look like, I didn't want to miss it.

I didn't know it then, but by the time I closed it, everything would change.

Everything.

It's possibly been

the most intense period of life

we've ever experienced.

Just as an example, one tiny little piece - as of last weekend, our church had served over 10,000 PokémonGo players who landed on our doorstep, about three weeks ago. Four weeks ago, I didn't even know what PokémonGo was!

And there are countless other examples of change. 

From owning a small home with a giant, ramshackle, peaceful backyard -- to renting an apartment, right in the city. From driving everywhere to walking everywhere. From an all-English community to a multi-lingual one, particularly French. From a community whose history, people and ethos I knew to one in which I knew no one and almost nothing. 

And of course -- Andie. 

She's a massive, joyous, delightful, messy change.

But then again - I'm still me. Spike is still Spike (although his hair has changed).

And God is still God. 

I'm thankful for social media and texting and FaceTime that keep me connected with friends, old and new. I'm thankful for years of foundation in my faith, for Scripture I read today that reminded me, "If you love your neighbour, you will fulfill the requirements of God's law". And, "The Lord is my shepherd. I have all that I need."

So today, I've begun a new journal, and it's the first one that I've started here, in ma nouvelle ville. Strangely, that makes me feel at home. It's more of my usual style, peaceful, simple. 

And maybe I'm finally back to blogging again. We shall see. 

that time when

Remember that time I had the chance to speak at a conference out west ... and separately, someone wanted to interview me ... and separately, someone else wanted me to write an article ... and it all happened around the same time that we moved to a new city and a new church, and then got a new puppy?

Yeah. That time.

It's been quite a time.

It's why I've been a little bug-eyed.

And also why I've been barely blogging.

Or running.

At any rate, the article I wrote for these guys was generously shared by them as a blog post for someone else, and if you want to read THAT, it's right here.

And if you do read it and think, "Heeeeyyyyy ... I'm sure I've heard her say some of that before, somewhere," you're not crazy. Some of my most long-standing thoughts started out as rambling rants in this space or over coffee with someone.

I'm nothing if not consistent.

And if instead, you think, "You know ... I'm good. I know her. I can probably guess what she said. And instead of sitting inside reading a blog post she wrote for someone else, I'm heading outside to find a beautiful dark roast coffee to enjoy with a chocolate croissant," then you're my kind of people. Because GUESS WHAT??!!!! It feels spring-y in ma nouvelle ville!

I know, I KNOW, it might well snow again before the sunshine finally wins. But yesterday? Yesterday was lovely. And today seems awfully nice too.

Yay :)

hats and boots

Friday nights, our church has "The Gathering Place" - music, discussion groups, a chance to connect on a smaller scale than Sunday mornings. 

I do security. :)

People think it's weird.

Which makes me laugh. 

This week, I decided to sport one of our branded hats, just to see if anyone noticed. 

They did. One person thought I looked like a Christmas elf. 

Another said, "Oh, Pastor Patti, it's YOU! I thought it was a young lady opening the door!"

Nope, it's me...heeeyyyyy, wait a minute....!

It appears I may have started something. 

I was also wearing the best winter boots I've ever owned. Because, hello, I'm security; I might have to handle a "situation". Don't want to get cold feet. 

(See what I did there? "Cold feet"?)

The boots got a reaction too.

"That CAN'T be Pastor Patti! She wears high heels, not boots and a hat!"

Lol. 

We're still learning each other, this church and me. And having a few chuckles in the process. 

at Atwater & St. Catherine

On my way to work yesterday morning, just a block short of my office.

I walk to work now.

Have I mentioned that?

Love it.

Anyway, got to the corner of St. Catherine and Atwater, and heard, "Excuse me ... are you crossing in this direction?"

I turned and saw an older gentleman, with a cane and some bags.

"I can," I said.

"I just need some help across the street," he said. "I can't see very well."

I took his bags, and he took my hand, and we started off together.

"You must be an angel," he said.

"Nope," I said, "but I am a pastor, actually."

"Really??!!" he said. "That's WONDERFUL. I love to see women taking leadership in the Christian church!"

He started telling me the words of his favourite hymn, happily quoting every verse. "You should get a copy of the song," he said. "Just call me. I'm Bert. But everyone calls me Uncle Bert."

He named a church and asked if I was from there.

"No," I said. "I'm just across Cabot Square there, at Evangel."

His eyes got wide. "At Evangel? What's your name?"

"Patti," I said.

"I was talking to a friend last week who goes to Evangel. They told me there's a new female pastor there."

"That's me," I said.

"They said her name was Pastor Patti," he said.

"Yup -- I'm Pastor Patti," I said.

He laughed, blessed me right there on the street, and laughed again as he walked away, shaking his head.

"Wait until I tell my friend that Pastor Patti helped me across the street!!"

And I smiled

all the way

to the office.

visual moments

There are so many visual moments in ma nouvelle ville.

Moments on the way to work.

Moments you'd miss if you didn't look up.

Always look up.

Underground moments.

That guitar-toting dude is kinda cute, huh?

And moments when you should definitely look down.

BEFORE rolling the chair you're sitting in, even one inch, in any direction.

#MtlMoments #MillerMoments #AndieLivesHere 

a kinda perfect day

Mes parents sont ici!

For a whole weekend, they're visiting. 

Our first guests in Montreal. 

We took a little trek to the top of Mount Royal. 

Oh my. 

Quelle vue!

Who knew you could bring a lunch and find a cozy spot in front of a window with a magnificent view? (I know. Everyone knew. We didn't.)

It would appear there's a special affection for squirrels. 

Even at Maison Smith, where the historic paintings on the wall include squirrels. 

Why was there a squirrel on a chair in the water in 1643?

Also a squirrel watched the band in 1876.

After that we took a little trek down Rue Sherbrooke. 

Where ...

I got myself un petit chapeau. C'est très jolie. 

Oh la la!

mangez ici

"Welcome to Montreal!"

"I made a list for you of places you should eat."

Seriously. How great is that??!!!

languages

This past Sunday, I skipped church.

Oops. Let me re-phrase that.

I had the chance to speak at Le Campus, our church's francophone site. And since my talents don't include being in two places at once, that meant I wasn't at the main site.

Don't worry. It was all covered.
They didn't even miss me.

Spike and I had a blast. We don't speak French - yet - but that didn't stop us from singing along. The words were on the screen and we assumed they were good words. People laughed and chatted easily, and there were several first-timers like us, so we grinned and welcomed each other with broad gestures.

I should make a small correction.

We don't speak *much* French.

But every child that grows up in Ontario takes French for several years in school, and bits of it start to come back when you move to a French-speaking province. Plus - when the anglophone pastor comes to visit, and the francophone pastor introduces her to speak, with a little joke saying, "She doesn't understand a word of what I'm saying right now" - everyone giggles, and someone obligingly whispers a translation.

I didn't mind.

I smiled graciously, came to the front, waited for the translator to get his mic, and then said, very sweetly,

"Pastor Normand has had a little fun telling you all that I don't understand what he's saying. But ... Pastor, you should know that I understand more than you think I do, и может быть, если я говорю по-русски, ты не понимаешь."

("... and maybe if I speak in Russian, YOU don't understand.")

I felt good about that.

premier hiver à Montréal

"It snows a lot in Montreal, Patti. A LOT."

On Christmas Eve and for a few days after that, we walked around the city comfortably in short sleeves and light jackets.

It was lovely.

I don't need Christmas to be "white"

in order to be Christmas.  

Saturday night the temperature dropped. Sunday, freezing rain. And yesterday -- 39 cm of snow. 

But I was ready for it.

*raises fist in defiant victory*

In fact, I revelled in the fact that I didn't have to shovel a sidewalk, clean off a car, or worry about getting stuck on my way to work. 

There's a real bonus to being apartment-dwellers, right in the city.

We walk. 

Throughout the day, I watched the storm from my office window. 

There was even a moment in which I thought a polar bear might stroll by with a bottle of Coke. 

We had a practice scheduled last night, for New Year's Eve, with more snow to come. I wondered if the rehearsal would still happen, but the question was casually shrugged off. 

"Montrealers embrace winter, Patti."

Someone told me that a few weeks ago,

and it turns out it's true.

Not a bad approach, I gotta say. 

Anyway - Spike and I get to be part of the music on New Years Eve. We've enjoyed the break - we did music every week for years - but, as I bounced happily waiting for practice to start, I also realized how much I have missed being part of making music with other people. 

Looking forward to celebrating in this space tomorrow night, musically and in every other way. 

Happy New Year to you and yours!

a new kind of Christmas

It's ok, right, to say that it's been a little odd for us this Christmas? It's the first time we haven't been near any family at all. I'm not complaining - that's true for lots of people - it's just the first time it's been true for us.

The Christmas Eve service was fantastic - we didn't do Christmas Eve services in Hamilton, but wow, did we enjoy the one here. That first song - Joy to the World - and it didn't matter that things were different. Some things are the same, including a shared delight in Christ's birth, expressed in a joyful burst of music, all together. Faith really does create a sense of family.

It turned out Spike and I had similar ideas for Christmas gifts. There were a few items, but we laughed when each of us opened a coffee mug from the other - in matching colours, no less!  I'll let you guess which mug belongs to which person.

And then ... we took a deep breath ... "Let's open the case."

The thing is, when we left Hamilton, our church there sent us with a parting gift. They know me very well, and they know that words matter so much to me. So they filled a case with notes and cards, and sent it with us.

We hadn't opened it yet.

First, we were frantically moving ... and then we were unpacking and trying to make a new place feel like home ... and then we were quickly immersed in figuring out how life works here, how many hours and dollars it takes, just to get Quebec license plates, and how a whole new church functions.

Plus ... we just couldn't. Open it, that is. We weren't ready.

Today, we were. We read each card and note, one at a time, out loud. Cried, burst out laughing, and then cried again. Memories, friendship, love and the realization - again - of how much life had been shared in 16 years there, at our church in "The Hammer".

"I miss being known," I finally said to Spike, adding to the pile of wadded-up kleenex beside me.

And that statement summed it up, really. You can't live that many years in a place, sharing life with people, without them knowing you. (Well you CAN, I guess, but why would you?)

But here's the unexpected thing. When you live with the same people for that long, your values show, whether you want them to or not. And it turns out the values we meant to show were the ones we actually did show, and they actually did matter.

Which is awfully encouraging on your first Christmas in a new space.

We went out for a lunch-time breakfast after that. The coffee was simply awful, the first "miss" in a Montreal meal. And then we wandered over to see some art we had looked at a few weeks ago. It made me smile then, and I giggled again, looking at it. This time, it came home with us, compliments of little gifts tucked in those notes.

How can you not love this guy??!!! He's almost as tall as me. Spike named him Seymour. We can't decide if he's going in the living room or bedroom, but he's part of our first Christmas in Montreal, and we kinda love him already.

Did a little FaceTiming home, where our family opened a few packages we sent from the Atwater Market, just a short walk from where we live. They'll come for a visit soon enough, and see it for themselves. Meanwhile, I'm awfully grateful for technology, especially when my parents' Resident Princess started dancing to Spike's beat-boxing.

Merry Christmas to you, from Spike and me.

May you be known ... and loved.

heaven's food is Lebanese

Oh my word.

Some of you have noticed that list I'm keeping on the side of places we've eaten. I need to add a few, and I don't have time this morning, but oh my friends....

Run. Don't walk. RUN, I tell you to Daou Restaurant. We had our staff/board Christmas party there last night.

I cannot express to you the explosions of flavour, the variety of dishes, the melt-in-your-mouth quality of everything from appetizers to dessert. Perhaps Celine Dion can - apparently she recognizes outstanding Lebanese food when she sees it too, and loves this place. The owner certainly can - she sat with us last night and described the various foods we were eating - she is part of our church, by the way. Her father started the restaurant as a new immigrant, so that his 4 daughters wouldn't have to work for anyone else when they grew up; they would work for themselves in this family business. "We will open a restaurant and serve what we eat at home," he said. "If people like it - great. If not, well at least we tried."

People liked it.

Next week, Daou will have been in business 40 years. Every employee is a family member or close friend; all have been there at least 15 years.

Go there, I implore you.

new habits

"You have to take Mondays offsite,

so you can get your Sunday message written."

Strong advice given to me before I even arrived here, and reiterated last week. I didn't follow that advice the first couple of weeks, mostly because I didn't have an "offsite" place to go, and I wanted to see "onsite" before going "offsite". But realizing that habits form quickly, and a day dedicated to study and prep is invaluable by all accounts, I determined to start following the pattern this week.

I spent the first half of the day in a food court, typing away while my coffee got cold. When I started, the place was mostly empty, but a few hours later people were taking the extra chairs from my table, as the mall filled up with holiday shoppers. I eventually caved in to the guilt I felt for taking up a table for several hours with a single coffee, plus I needed a change of venue, so I packed my stuff up and moved on, munching a sandwich as I went.

Walked several blocks to a nearby library that Spike and I had discovered on the weekend. It was the exact opposite of the food court – silence reigned supreme.

Until someone picked up their phone too quickly, triggering Siri,

who said loudly, "I'm sorry. I didn't quite hear what you said,"

while her owner scrambled to turn it off. 

The crowd there was made up of a whole lot of senior citizens ... and me. 

Until the nearby high school let out

and two teenage girls came in.

I'm sure they believed they were silent

as they whispered and giggled nonstop across the table from me.

I worked until my laptop died. Went home to where Spike had supper waiting, and then worked a little bit more in the evening. Kept track of my hours on my phone's timer, just so I would know.

Tuesday was straight through meetings, as it is every week. In between, little conversations and unforeseen tasks, and at the end a whispered prayer of thanks for the advice that had me offsite the day before. 

I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep it that way. 

Peter the Great

The day we went looking for apartments was a long one. It was on the same weekend that would finalize whether or not we were moving; the decision wouldn't be made until Sunday, but we would be on a train back to Hamilton by 4 PM that day, so we used eight hours on Saturday to walk through one apartment after another, just in case. 

It was like searching for Goldilock's porridge.

Some were too big (i.e. expensive), some were too small (do we really NEED a bed?). One had a walk-in kitchen, and by that I mean walk one step in and that's it. Stove to the left, fridge to the right, sink directly in front. It was about the size of an airplane lavatory. One had very friendly, sleepy students who weren't afraid to squish as many on the elevator as possible, since they had been up all night and had a paper due. One was lovely, with an outdoor park-like private garden, but it was more than we wanted to pay, and they didn't have any vacancies anyway. 

And then Spike saw ... The Doorman. Standing outside on that Saturday afternoon enjoying the sunshine, chatting happily to passersby. "Come in," he said warmly. "You are looking for a place? This is a great place. I will take you to the office. Where are you moving from?"

It was just right. 

Turns out his name is Peter - "Peter the Great," he says with a smile. He's the reason we live here, and the other doormen are just as wonderful. Let me tell you, there is something awfully nice about having someone wish you a nice day as you leave in the morning and then welcome you home, casually walking over to call an elevator for you, however many hours later.

A few days after we moved in, Spike wanted pizza to round out his football-watching afternoon. Peter offered an instant recommendation, and Spike came back upstairs to order it. Meanwhile, I headed out to explore the neighbourhood, waving goodbye to Peter as I left. Returned an hour and a half later, and Peter didn't miss a beat - "Pizza's upstairs," he said, pointing upwards. 

So ... we have doormen. We don't have blinds yet (that's another story) but we have doormen, and somehow that makes everything all right. 

a month of posts

Bonjour, all!  I've had sooooo many things to tell you, but no time to write them down. And now they're out of date. Soooooo ... I give you a quick summary of the past month.

First... We said our goodbyes at Crossfire, the church that has been home for 16 years. 

I arrived to this ... 

Lunch was as Ukrainian as it could be, which was an awfully nice touch. 

And there were all kinds of tearful and joyful moments and gifts and hugs and prayers.  It was a fantastic, truly meaningful day, one which we will never forget. 

The next day ... Spike packed ...

I headed to Montreal, not to begin at our new church (that wouldn't happen for another couple of weeks), but for some meetings that had been scheduled months before. As it turned out, the meetings were just a block away from our new church, so I snuck in to see the place. Which was rather fun, since they had just moved back in after a year of renovations. 

The next  day ... Back to Hamilton, late evening.

The next day, early morning ... Moving truck came to take our stuff to Montreal, but since it apparently takes a moving truck six days to travel six hours, we stayed in town a little bit longer. At my parents' home. Here's a little throwback from the pics on THEIR shelves. 

During that time we put our house on the market, because all of our well-laid plans to rent it had fallen apart just a few days before, due to unexpected insurance complications. Trust me, you don't want to hear THAT story. Dad helped us finish emptying and cleaning the place. 

The house sold Saturday night ... we left Sunday morning for Montreal. 

Truck was to arrive Monday, which meant Tuesday, and although we had determined we would be fine in an empty apartment with our coffee maker and air mattress, we bailed out to a hotel the second night after we had to refill the air mattress at 4 AM the first night. 

Stuff arrived ... Unpacked, stored, organized and threw out all the "stuff" that had been mashed into boxes. Worked soooooo hard to fit it all into compact space. 

Then discovered I had completely forgotten to put anything in this cupboard. It was like early Christmas when I discovered that space, let me tell you. 

But the blinds were back ordered (still are, for the most part). We improvised. 

Saturday we got cable and Internet installed - oh happy day. Sunday I went for a walk while Spike watched football. 

Saw all this on my walk. Whoa! Cette ville est très belle!!!!

Monday, moved into my new office, met staff, and spent the next several days absorbing boatloads of information. 

Off Friday, off Saturday (What is this thing called two days off in a row? Is this how the rest of you live? It's LOVELY!) Sunday -  spoke at three services in a row, lunch, board meeting, social event for all the leaders, their spouses, and us. They did a pantry shower! Boatloads of food to fill our cupboards! How great is that?!

Monday... worked all day, then Spike picked me up, and we drove to Toronto where I had several days of meetings. Meanwhile he went on to Hamilton to do the LAST final cleanups at the house. Thursday night I joined him and Friday morning – I graduated! 

Yaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!

My parents and their Resident Princess came too. :)

Saturday, we took the car FULL of things from what we had been so sure was an empty house when we left the first time, and drove back to Montreal. Pulled up in front of our apartment building, where the doorman – we have a doorman now – came out and said with a smile...

"welcome home."

We are home.