New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve.

A day to ponder the year past and a year yet to come. I have been planning a jaunt to my sister's for the night, but really have not thought too much about the "New Year" part of it. I usually will write up a summary of the year past in my journal, but the book has been sorely ill-used as of late. Poor thing has lost some of its glam to my BLOG pages. All good.

So where was I last year at this time? I was in a fledgling relationship, the first since Brad's death. It was exciting and nerve-wracking. The promise was there, but things were moving slow. Hmmm, what can I say about that one? This fledgling romance has sputtered and died, sputtered and reignited, sputtered and died again. I debate making a new year's resolution to let the thing just die already and be done with it, but leave it sit where it wants for now.

The year past saw me continue with renovations around the house. My basement was beautified and became a much more kid-friendly space. My emotional self hit an unexpected roller coaster ride. The spring had me grappling with who I was and what I had to offer to the world. The answers were coming up bleak at the time. The only remedy was a road trip. It took on epic proportions (well epic if you look through the eyes of four children aged 2, 4, 7 & 9). I expected to have massive epiphanies and peace-filling moments. It did not quite happen like that, but I did come home to a different space. Somehow, somewhere along the way I felt me and discovered that I liked me. I somehow found worth at the end of the summer. It may sound horrible, but I was shocked. To be fair, I was pleased. "I" deserved "me" time and life picked up smiles. I have found them twisted up in Yogic poses and lost in sonic drums. My book nook expanded and a gaggle of girls (women really) were slated into my monthly "me" outings.

Hmm, so what did I learn this year? What did I find? I think I found me. I found a new version of me that I quite like in fact. I am still working on filling in some holes and tweaking the self-confidence some more, but by year's end, my greatest success was shining up my halo and turning over my frown. Not too shabby. I didn't think there was much to 2009 at the beginning of this post, but I guess it wasn't half bad...

friendship

So the evening wound down by the fireside.

Quiet activities stilled busy minds and bodies.

And two little girls were trundled off to bed.

Giggles filled them and stirred them,

 but warmth finally found them and took them off to dream land

And I sat watching the fire quietly burning

Appreciating the beauty of life

and friendships

 

Run, run, run

   Ah, I finally sit. What a whirlwind day. It is not done yet of course, but much got accomplished in the hours past thus far. A new camera was purchased for me, so hopefully a few new pics will grace my blog! Oh and of course I will get to snap some new pics of my babies. Just in time for the New Year! I took care of our kitties by making sure their tummies are always full. Hungry tummies make for grumpiness, be they mine or the cats', so more food it is! To slap a morning face on, a stop at the coffee shop to pick up some java was in order as well. All this was done while my girls played for a few hours at daycare. Run, run, run! They rejoined me for a trip to the dentist. "Look Mom. NO  cavities!" We all got a polish and are sporting shiny pearly whites this aft. Just in time for a play-date/sleep over party for my eldest. A brief stop (1 1/2 hours! how did that happen?!) at the grocery store (looking for a DVD player in electronics) was snuck in before Victoria arrived. Now I just have to sit back and hope they all play nice and don't cause me too many gray hairs before they fall asleep tonight. I suspect there will be a few warnings before the girl's  eyes finally close, but I am okay with that. They have not seen each other since June when we were on our road trip out West. Lots to catch up on, I'm sure. At almost 5 years old, they have been having sleepovers for almost three years! Crazy and beautiful. So I will pour myself a nightcap or maybe two this evening as the little ones giggle and whisper. In between stern looks and warnings I will smile and hope these memories stay with them, as they will for me. Have fun and play little ones...

Holiday pause

   I have finally had a chance to read a few blogs that I have not had a chance to peruse over the hectic holidays. It is almost like not having time for dear friends or myself. I love getting together with family, but I have a kinship with the people that let me into their lives via a blog. The blogs I read inspire me to be creative, touch me in a spiritual manner, help me appreciate nature, bring forth the camaraderie of Motherhood and friendship. Blog-world has become a new friend in my life and I am happy when I get to see someone with a new post or new pictures to share or I discover someone new that makes me laugh. That kinship was unexpected when someone suggested writing a blog back in the spring. All I wanted was to write, perhaps make some money at it if I was lucky. Well, I have made no money, but I have found a voice. I rather enjoy the words that flow out of me. They are not always awe-inspiring, but I know that they do get read by the occasional person. That is kind of cool. I like it.
   My thoughts originally were going to be about the sadness that people feel at this time of year. So many gather together and feast and frolic. When a face is missing around the table we have pause. Their presence is felt and missed. We certainly have a few seats missing around our festive feasts. No one can replace my Bradley that was in charge of "flipping the bird" at Leslie's and of course the carving of said bird afterwards. No offence Jamie, but you don't hold a candle to him in my books. I almost grabbed the knife myself, as I often feel Brad's presence within me, but I let it go and faded into another room. Brad's spirit lives on and he was seen in my mind's eye in all the spaces where I had seen him before. You are not forgotten Brad and never will be.
   My cousin was also active in thoughts at her second Christmas visiting in spirit, but not body. I slept in her room and had her smiling face looking over me and  filling my dreams. Her parents still have tears in their eyes, but at the back of them if you look. It is hard to not see the cherished ones that we love and will love forever. They are still at our elbows and in our hearts. I left a small bottle of rye for my hubby and told him to "rip it up and give em hell" on Christmas Eve. I can smile at him now, but feel for the friends that I have that are going through their first Christmas without their significant others. A coffee date a few days before Christmas with a friend that lost his common-law wife a few months ago reminded me to be kind over the holidays. Life is precious and brief. His eyes still hold disbelief of what his life looks like and feels like. It is not right or fair, but it is what is meant to be for whatever reason. Peace will come eventually, but it takes time, patience and love.
   My tears came when I had the pleasure to see a friend in town for the holidays. The holidays always speed up into a chaotic whirlwind. I was able to meet my girlfriend for dinner and a movie and was thrilled to see her smiling face. We openly held hands and embraced constantly. She is a dear friend that touched my soul with her unquestioning love and the support she offered while my husband was sick and dying. She can laugh and be crude one moment and drop everything to hold my hand so I can cry the next. When she moved away after my husband died I was devastated and mourn her loss still. She is a pure soul. I held her with tears streaming down my checks as we parted in the parking lot of a movie theatre. She is still alive and still a friend, but our time has changed. Our brief window with which to visit highlighted for both of us the sometimes cruel passing of time. We held each other and missed each other as our eyes feasted for the lean times that we know lie ahead. That is the mystery of Christmas that brings the smiles and feeds the sorrows. We rejoice for what we have and remiss for what we have lost.
   So I close with a cheers to friends and family no longer with us, but also with love and peace offered to the friends that I still have. May you find your peace  and love my blogging friends and thank you for letting me into your lives.

J & G: part II

   Tomorrow finds a joking smile splayed across a silly face. Up, up, I am up! I love you and you and shower you with good tidings of love. Jump up and dance a lovely little silly ditty. Sing loud to make the chickadees titter. My oyster, my pearl is shiny today! What plans for the future that I cannot wait to have unfurl! Oh the Joy I can offer and spread. The key is mine! I will share crumbs of bread to bobbing birds and shreds of meat to a hungry winter prowling critter. Give I give! I make the world a better place. My smiles make my face ache and swell my heart with love.

   Twitches begin again as night falls. The nightmare that just will not end. Sour sweat slick on my skin and through my hair. Gone are the birds. Gone is the sun that sparkled on river banks of yesterdays. Did I see the river yesterday? Was that real or just imagined dreams? Have I ever had real happiness. Has anyone ever cared. Was there ever such a thing as love?

   A shower. Must needs a shower to make the world right. A shower. A better path to wend. Find a friendly face. Stalk away from heathen night terrors. Should they not be relegated to youth? “That is where they came from”, a voice replies. Forget youth. Forget pain. Find sunshine and smiles. Must make the world a better place. A better place. Must find a better place.

***

Boxing Day wind down

Exhaustion creeps into my brain. Fatigue born of visiting with friends and family for three nights in a row, cheersing all and sundry. I love this time of year with its warmth and cheer, but enough with the beer! I was spoiled rotten and my kids loved it. The glee at opening presents did not stop day after day. R has been chanting presents, presents as every day saw a new batch slide under the tree. Alas for her, tomorrow will only hold the present of life. That is plenty enough for me. I have managed to put some of the new gifts away, but still see much littered about to find homes for tomorrow. The day to clean, perhaps purge old toys for the newly arrived, and most importantly to stay home and enjoy our own company. There are still a few visitors on the horizon. I look forward to them, but am glad to sleep in my own bed tonight. And to bed I shall go on a yawn..... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Good night and God Bless

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to one and all!

The weather outside is frightful (rain! yuck),
but in here it is quite delightful.
The children are down below.
And ice clinks in my glass for show

As the turkey browns in the heat
My mouth savours for the treat.
of the golden bird so divine
it will be mine, all mine, be mine.

Have a lovely day  and bless you all!

Christmas Eve

Christmas EVE!
Santa Claus is coming tonight!!
Presents are wrapped and anticipation is at its height
Merry Christmas!
Christmas licky,
sticky
Candy cane icky!

Welcome all to my glowing world
crooners sing comforting lullabies
and family is around
to love.

May your season be loving,.
light and bright.
Peace to you
and love through the night.

Two Shopping days left!

The days have slipped to hours
and still I shop some more
desperate for some eggnog
GROCERIES, God another store!

I've done  a Christmas letter.
The cards are in the mail.
Oops, I forgot Western cousins!
A New Year's card will have to prevail.

Gift cards round out shopping lists
(The babysitter needs her due)
And the LCBO comes to save the day
I think I am almost through!

So now I haste to wrapping
The presents are stacking up high
A bow on a bottle and ribbon on bags
Oh Lord, where did the time fly!

Santa's cookies are baked
Teacher cards delivering this aft
Broccoli and cauliflower need prep work
I am sure I heard Brad! He laughed!

So off to tape, bows and my paper
Here, I can no longer linger
This evening a birthday celebration
A bottle of wine for birthday girl, I will bring her.

Merry Christmas time
and may the season see you
Through till New Year's Day!

How to schedule in a sick child a few days before Christmas

   So all my complaining this weekend only helped to sour my poor little girl. The countdown is progressing towards an imminent visitor and poor T has been struck down a nasty bug. She is couch bound today, with the  portable DVD player set up for her. It is the only plus for the girls when they are sick. As she couldn't move much farther than the bathroom this am, I am house-bound as well. R never made it out either. Small blessings are nap time.
   There are only a few days left before Christmas. My shopping is nearly complete, but additional items keep jumping into my mind (the babysitter, another bday present for a party tomorrow evening, Christmas groceries). I have lost a day today, so the next 2 days will be even more hectic. Perhaps I should work on wrapping presents, since I cannot go anywhere anyway.  At least we got some more sugar cookies made this morning for Santa to add to the peanut butter balls and fruit morsels we made yesterday. Yes, poor blog, you suffer today, but that is as much as I have time for now.
   Adios from Christmas Dora on the loop!

J & G

Start of a story that has been filling my head.

He lies with body jerking and shifting. Sleep surrounds him, but the demons continue to plague his body. Watchers can only guess what images rush through his seemingly racing mind. The image “restful” is not an expression considered, as this tortured soul kicks and shuffles at remembered images under cover of night sleeps. Racing away, legs darting. Eyes snapping back, forth, searching, running. A wish of peace is all that can be put into the ethers, but thoughts do not seem to help this night.

Morning dawns and injustice sits on lips. The world holds more pain than anyone can bear. How can no one see this? We should strive for better. We should get out from under the yoke silently held above us. Do you not see it? Do you not feel it?

He stalks down sidewalks angry that the world can torture people so. People’s delusions hold them back from happiness and enlightenment. Do they not see? Do they not want to see? They do not have the choice. Other eyes hold altered lights. This man’s stride holds the world’s imagined pains in its unforgiving path. He must make a difference. He must save the ones that deserve. He must open all eyes to what we cannot see. His angst weighs heavy. He does not know that he cannot change the world. His own world, but the whole world is more than any one person can bear. The whole world is what he carries on his shoulders though. He grimaces and strains. Anger shouts at you and you and you! The blaze was begun too many years ago though. The spark was unfeeling and uncaring. That injustice of one small soul, carries the torch into tomorrow. Today the direction is you.

What unfeeling hands touched where they should not have? Images can never be erased. Delete! Delete. Oh merciful drug of God, why do images never leave. I am damaged. Always and forever I try to put me back together again, but always I fight against the world. All I want is peace. All I want is to sleep in careful arms. I crave tender arms of love and protection to take away the yesterdays that will not leave me. Do I deserve this? Yes. Grudgingly yes. Assuredly YES! What answers am I to find in the path that was given? It is hard. Tough external shell yields to a need of peace. I am searching, forever searching. Nowhere is peace to be found. I cannot ever recognize it. Desperate am I to find it. Look some more.

***

Go to your room

   I sent myself to my room tonight. The children ate their dinner. They put their plates in the dishwasher. I took them to see "The Princess and the Frog" this afternoon (first movie in theater) and they were excellent. I got lovely cuddles for a good chunk of the movie from R, which put a smile on my face (especially in a sad part near the end -won't spoil it in case you want to see it!). Lots of reasons to hug my children and smile.
   So why the long face you ask? Yes, why. Well, don't say anything, but I just am a silly thing sometimes. I went to the movies with a friend and his daughter. I had been asked to go with other friends, but he asked first and my girls hadn't seen his daughter in a while, so I thought "why not?". Why not indeed. I apologize, but a rant.
   My daughters are barely 3 and almost 5 years old. My dear friend was concerned that my youngest might be a handful at the movies (note: she was the one cuddling quietly on my lap). A twinge of irritation in the far reaches of my brain, even though the possibility of her being a crank is not unfounded. She lay on the sidewalk outside grumbling and crying after the movie, to the mirth of passing strangers. So perhaps an example of what "he" was expecting. Fine, mixed point.
   We decided to have them come back to our house for a play date, as the girls had not been together in months. The squealed and giggled in the basement. We could hear toys being tossed thither and yon from our perch upstairs on the couch. After I outfitted them with hot chocolate and cookies (perhaps why they were wired for sound?), I returned upstairs to find him chatting on his cell on my laptop. Not really a big deal, but I kind of felt like I should be quiet, so attended to other domestic chores around for a few minutes before joining him. My house right? Non-plussed, conversation did follow. Yeah, adult time! Until he fell asleep as I was asking him a question! What! Yeah, I can hear you. No problem. Pour myself a glass of wine and tend to the ham that will turn into sandwich dinners. My youngest appears partly clad in super hero princess gear (cape, skirt and nothing else) and rouses him from his slumbers. His daughter surfaces for a smooch from her pa and feeling like I had to kick them out or offer dinner, she quickly agreed to our fare. After prodding my youngest to ask "him" to gather an extra chair from the basement, then asking him myself after she was ignored, dinner was served. It was eaten by all, with less prodding than sometimes takes, but certainly with  more noise. Guests always amount to dessert and "ice cream!" was suggested with glee. "Plates in  the dishwasher" is a rule in my house, especially if dessert is warranted. My girls know this and comply readily, anticipation pushing them faster than they ever move. Our little guest was unused to this, but was shown by my two how it all works and eager smiles looked forward to their ice cream cones. As I turned for the ice cream I told "his" fleeting back that he had to scrap his plate as well. A barely audible grunt came from in front of the reignited computer. Grrr. Scoop, scoop. Smiles and sillys for ice cream. No help from my adult companion. The girls delighted smacked down their cold treats, got hands washed and disappeared back to the basement. I followed with a refreshed glass of vino, only to find my way barred by the contents of every toy container in the basement exploded into the middle of the room. No pathway to the couch could be met safely without steel-toe slippers. Not worth it.
   I barked at the girls to put the toys away and stalked back upstairs. He looked up from the computer and out it came. It had been building and leaking, but irritation burst forth like the toys strewn around the basement below.
 "You didn't put your plate away when I asked, even though all the girls managed to!"
Oh,  do you need help? I can help you clean up.
  "It is done."
No, I  can help do something. I can help you finish up.
   "If you want to wash the floor, that would be great, but it is done."
He moves to the kitchen and picks up a few scattered stickers. It is as done as it needs to be.
   "I have enough to clean up after my own children. Perhaps when you were growing up you didn't have to clean up after yourself, but I do not need more to clean up after. I already yell at my children enough. The basement is a disaster and I just yelled at them now to do something about it." I don't need to tend to another child, my mind screams. I am shaking. My voice. My being.
  I will go get the kids to clean up the basement. Why don't you have a glass of wine and sit down.
   The remnants of my wine followed me to my room, but sat untouched. Small pattering feet came upstairs, but did not find me as I lay in my darkened room. I breathed. My mind formed things to say. I watched the Christmas lights outside my window flash and sparkle. Eventually he came back upstairs. He did not come and find me curled into myself on the bed. Of course he wouldn't. men don't tend to be good that way. Sorry. I sulked a little more and finally swung my legs over the side of the bed. disappointed sighs. Down the hall, disappointed looks. Clean basement. Bonus for me. Mostly for the girls when they want to play again. Did he see my flat eyes? Did he hear the flat tones? Perhaps. Good night to you. And you my reader, if you have gone this far. Sorry for the rant. the worst is that comments won't help, as they just make "me" feel bad, for putting up with disappointing behaviour. Me feel bad for not putting a final foot down. One day...

Old friends

   The hours are too short on some days. I love visitors, but am a little bummed that my visit with Janet and kids was so short. Alas, it is Christmas and time becomes more precious, so it would seem. The same thing happened with a few weeks back with an  old high school friend. The words burble and flow, but the well is never empty. So many thoughts to share and mental hugs to impart. Three o'clock snuck up on us and issued us off to bed. Blissful little people allowed us adults to be lazy critters come morning hours. Sunshine smiles were optional. Coffee cradles crept into quiet corners of foggy brains. Too quickly the day passed. Lunch at 3pm wrapped up a whirlwind tour. The road beckoned and the house falls silent of friends again. Anticipation can begin for the week to come. Another visitor at week's end is something else to look forward to. What shall this visitor bring?

the Christmas countdown

I tried to get to my computer earlier to write a few words, but visitors have arrived in my world. Alas, no fabulous prose to relate.

Throbbing feet
Pulse to a shopping beat.
Christmas edges closer
and closer

Must wrap and peer
at presents over a Christmas beer
Much way to go
Before holiday cheer doth flow.

 Soon
Santa will be soaring o'er the moon.
 Soon.

75

   Taking time to piece together a blog post is getting more difficult with a list of Christmas tasks to do. I have vacuumed the house in anticipation of my dear friend Janet and children arriving tomorrow. The bathrooms beckon, but so does my computer screen.

   Last night I was on the computer late, as usual. I retired thinking that sleep would find me soon, but the brain had other plans for me. While I would have appreciated a little more sleep, interesting bits traipsed through my pre-dream fog. A comment on my book review got my creative juices thinking up stories. I probably do not have time to write the start of the words that swished above my head last night, but I was pleased with the start of a story. I will not give details here, as I need to see if words actually find proper places. Tempting as it was to write them down last night, I yearned for sleep more. I did think that this might be a good place to try out stories as they filter through me (as I hope they may!). So perhaps the words will return to me and find a place on paper or screen. In the meantime, my writing falls more to Christmas cards and actions will soon lead to yoga and drumming. Be well my friends

cassoulet vs chocolate?

   What wonderful things cross my brain this evening? Tonight was my weekly dinner feast with friends Nancy and David. We had extra bodies tonight, as Sue and Don were exposed to the joy of dining with children (of which they have none and desire none). A yummy cassoulet was our fare, compliments of Sue. She was almost dismayed that the children (three girls 4 1/2, 4 1/2 and 3 years) were not interested in her delicacies. Ha! The other three parents at the table smirked. We have all had more meals than can be counted where food has been snubbed for more reasons than can be imagined. No other reason is needed to not eat than having company to escape with. Only the lure of chocolate or chicken nuggets tempts fickle appetites. We have found ways around this by letting the girls eat after us when we dine at my house. We can enjoy our meal and sip at wine in a civilized manner with adult conversation. The girls either beat a hasty retreat to the basement, where food is either eaten or not, but not witnessed by us, so not as painful. They do sometimes join our table, but I think they enjoy having their own time and space together. It seems to make us all happier. Well worth it. And one night where I am not badgering my children to eat seemingly forever, until I cannot take it any more. I hate hitting the one more bite or two more bites phase, but it seems to be the only thing that will work some nights. Nancy's strategies are to feed the girls sure-fire kiddables like hot dogs or macaroni and cheese, while we get to dine on gastronomical dishes that our children would never eat, like the spicy curry we enjoyed last week. Ahh.

   I think that is what I like best about my Tuesday dinners. I get to be an adult. I get to eat and talk with other adults of like mind. We get to eat food that we like, whether the kids eat or not. We can reminisce about days of yore when we could savour a meal without having to clean up spilled milk or grate our teeth over uneaten food. I can be me and let go of my Mommy reins. Someone else is there to help. Someone else is just plain old there. Whether they serve meals, clean plates or just talk to me. I am not alone. Yes, I am not alone. I like Tuesdays.

Chestnuts roasting over open (oven)

I sit at my kitchen table and watch as my girlies stud clementines.

I decorated a clementine on the weekend with cloves and T was enchanted. She managed to find another clementine hiding in the fridge and demanded that we stuff it full of cloves too. With no more to be found she insisted that we should buy more oranges, so today I made a point of buying some for her. I happen to like them for breakfast, but their thrill at another craft project warms my soul.

They are my inspiration to get in touch with the simple life of days gone by. I even picked up some chestnuts and have some roasting in the oven as I write. This is a task I have never undertaken, but am inspired by Christmas carols on the radio and some crafty blogs I peruse. I may even try my hand at chocolate coated orange rinds for a sweet dessert treat for dinner tomorrow night at a friend's house. Thanks Gardenmama! Wishing you a warm and festive time of year.

and the world spins on tonight

I arise from the dead to face the day gone.
Tears stream tired down long faces.
Water bathes and chocolate hot,
Remedies recommended by little ones
Their sleep songs for tonight.

Twinkle, twinkle little lights
Oh Christmas tree
my companion bright
Wish I may for pillows delight
To guide my dreams all through the night.

Crackleless fire ends my day
Wisdom from babes,
I welcome their say
Kindness in comatose
asleep on my couch.

And the world spins on tonight

Friends and Reflections

   I was happy to hear all the positive feedback from my last post. I write for myself, but do appreciate the fact that others enjoy the written word. I think that we can all look back on special memories from our childhood and smile. I value the fact that baking with my children will be a memory that they too will be able to look back on and smile about. My memories are shared across generations and that is special to me.
   This evening I shall create different memories. These ones I anticipate will be rather fuzzy though. I will be getting together with old co-workers for dinner and laughter at Yuk-Yuks. This has become a tradition, despite the fact that the cast and crew are mostly former employees of said workplace. We all shared a time and space though and appreciated each others company. The food and laughs are welcome in my world and I look forward to hugs from old friends. I dare say that tomorrow I may not be feeling as chipper as today, but I accept my fate. I know I could potentially do something about it (abstain?), but I also know me and the people I will be with. I worked with all men and they like their beer. The laughter just seems to help the bevvies slide down faster than other times. Perhaps I will be savvy and mix in water between adult beverages? Hmmm
   Hopefully you will still see a post tomorrow, but we shall have to wait and see. I expect that my prose will be lacking regardless, but I will have a crooked smile. A smile that says I was wanted and loved and appreciated for being me.

Memory Lane via Cookies

     Chocolate chip cookies. Yummy!

   As promised, cookies were baked this morning. My girlies love to bake and it is a sweet moment to share this love with them. My Grandmother fostered this love in me, as she always baked with my sister and I when we were little. I cherish memories of the delectable smells of freshly baked bread, sugar cookies, thimble cookies, jam jams and so much more. If we were patient, it was a treat to be given a beater or spoon to lick the sweet confections off of them. The bowl was the "icing on the cake", if you will. There was never a fear of  becoming ill from the raw eggs in the batter. I have eaten so much raw batter that I do not worry about it, although the baked cookies are more to my taste now. My children's delighted faces that light up with the promise of their own spoon to lick is a beautiful reminder of my youth. I cannot help but smile and send lovely little "thank yous" through the air to dear Grammy that gave me this gift in the first place.

  

   My Grandfather also comes to my heart and mind, as the baking progresses. I have two of my Grandmothers baking sheets that my Grandfather made. While I have a cupboard full of baking sheets, the two Grandpa made are my favourite. The cookies always come off perfectly and the sheets clean up easily. They look brand new and I know that is a sign of quality. They have seen umpteen number of treats and they will see numerous more if my children have anything to say about it.

   My Grandparents were a special part of my childhood that I hold close and cherish more as my days go on. I appreciate their self-sufficiency in a world they literally built from the ground up. They constructed a house blasted from the Rocky Mountains in British Columbia. Grandpa kept chickens and we gathered eggs by the dozen when we visited. The fowls also graced the soup pot when they were done laying, a fact that bothered my childhood sensibilities. 

   Today I let nothing go to waste and boil chicken carcasses into stock with a nod to Grandma again. A raised garden bed filled their kitchen table and larders with veggies. Raspberries, peas, strawberries and beans were thinned out by my sister and my little hands with glee. The canning process that saw their produce saved for winter serving was something I attempted to recreate this Fall. I aspire to get better at it as the years go by. My modern family thinks I am a little goofy for spending so much time at these menial tasks, but my jams are always accepted by all. Should we slow down and appreciate the gifts that are offered us by Mother Earth and memory? I cannot answer for all, but for myself I know the glee glimpsed on my little girls faces when aprons are pulled out tells me yes. Most definitely yes. 

Thank you Grandma. Thank you Grandpa. Merry Christmas.

Winter Wonderland?

   Snow whisks past my window. The snowflakes swirl and dance, stinging cheeks as they land. The ground remains relatively clear yet, but winter has arrived it would appear. Perhaps a white Christmas after all? I have added some seasonal songs to my play list to celebrate. Soft and quiet, loud and raucous, modern and old fashioned; a mix to suit me.

   My Christmas list needs checking though. Time to check it twice and thrice. Christmas cards need to be penned. Presents needed to be sorted and wrapped. Our poor tree is barren yet. A new surprise for the girls when we get home later. Christmas baking will entertain our world tomorrow. I can smell the shortbread already. Yum! The girls love to bake and chocolate chip cookies were suggested in earnest as well. Time to don the winter layer of warmth on outer and inner bodies. Cheers to you and may your holidays be bright!

"Too Much Happiness"

   Perhaps I will do something a little different this evening. As you may or may not have noticed, I have a list at the bottom of my blog of some of the books that presently grace my world. Some sit for longer than others, but they all get attention at some point or another. Last night I started to read "Too Much Happiness", by Alice Munro. It is a collection of short stories and any of the reviews I briefly perused were very glowing. A brief review from me then.

   The opening story is entitled "Dimensions". It is about a young mother that has lost all three of her children. It struck a note in me, as the main character falls into an abusive relationship after the death of her mother. She is at a vulnerable spot in her life, only being 16 and finds comfort in a questionable relationship. This man is manipulative and the young woman's world quickly revolves around him, his views and his lifestyle. I recently heard stories of another young woman's struggles to find herself in an over-powering relationship. I read the story with an eye to another woman's plight and tried to gain more insight. The main character asks for no pity and no help. She recognizes that her partner is not ideal and in this story not sane. He is all she has though. This is the crux of abusive relationships. This is what keeps them going. He may not be perfect, but he understands her and is there. The problem is that he changes the identity of the woman into someone with wrong opinions and actions. Words and deeds are squelched, as is life. I truly do not know how women can survive, but it is a sad reality that exists. In more places than in books. The beauty for me in the story is the epiphany at the end. Loss is a difficult thing for anyone to understand, accept and overcome. It takes many steps, but I thank Alice for giving her character that first step at the end. Sometimes we need hidden forces to give us a push in the right direction. We just have to open our eyes to the forces that be. That is what Alice asks of us the reader. I appreciate it.

   I look forward to pushing further into "Too Much Happiness". I might let you know how other stories unfold. Or not. You might have to get the book yourself if you are interested. Ask and I will let you know how it goes.

Snow

   The promise of snowfall has been broadcast on the radio. It has not begun yet, but a gray ceiling could tinkle with flakes any time. Yesterdays snow was no more than dust collected. Now that my Christmas tree is up I feel the spirit in the air and want some of the white stuff to catch up with the rest of the season. Soon enough it will come. Soon enough I am sure I will tire of it and wait impatiently for spring and the garden to peek back to life. I had anemones growing just last week for goodness sake! They thought it was spring already, but winter refuses to show. Last year the snow began in October with ice storms and coated the world all fall. By December, we had had snow for two months already! Thus far, we have had two snows that were both gone by the lunch hour. I think on G's posts on global warming, but just think this is another year that is living the way that it wants to. So while I would not mind a little snow to kick through, 18 inches might be a little more test to my back muscles than I am ready for. Sorry G. It will come in its own time and I can anticipate until then.

Snow fall

   It is snowing. I heard tell this morning that it was supposed to snow all week. As Christmas is approaching rapidly, this makes me happy.  I love the beginning of winter with its new white blanket that softens the world. It hides all the ugly bits as they lie dormant waiting for Spring and their transformation. I say ugly, but that doesn't feel quite right. The world has less obvious signs of life and light and it constricts our movements. We stay closer to home to hunker down in front of the fire. Cuddly blankets and beds call louder to our sleepy souls. I don fuzzy slippers and dream of frothy eggnog. I await my children and their zeal, so that we can trim our tree this aft. It is a lovely tree, that I know will shine forth love, excitement and promise before the day is through. Crisp smiles and laughter helped to find it yesterday. Perhaps that will be a memory that will follow the girls as they grow. My memory trees held hot chocolate and sleigh rides. This is a new tree though and new memories to be built.

   So let it snow and cover up the world and all that is in it. I am ready for my dormancy. I am ready for thoughts of transformation. I am ready for beauty and love. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

tonight

   It sometimes makes me wonder why certain people come into our lives. As of late I seem to have found new audiences for my story. As I recount tales from my life they become large as life and I am back there again. A friend this evening asked if I had always been this way or if I felt it was a byproduct of my grief. An interesting question. I try not to cry or get too emotional, but I am a leaky soul. I believe I have always been, but am a little squishier now. Are my tears a byproduct of my grief? I had it suggested by grief counsellors that I probably suffered from post traumatic stress disorder after Brad died. The moments from the last few days of his life are ingrained on my brain. I can feel the raw emotions when I go back and examine those days, those hours. They are more real than the person sitting in front of me. I am more there in the past than with the person listening to my tale. It is not a tale. It is a reality that I survived. It was shocking and surreal and incredibly painful. What I am slowly trying to learn and feel is that that moment is past. I do not exist in that moment any more. I can only exist in today. Now is the only thing I have control over. Remembering crisis points sends me back and reeling though. It was really sad. It was scary. It was surreal. I did not ask or want that to be a part of my reality, but it happened anyway. I do not need to have my chest constrict or heart race, as I fall to the floor hearing of a new grief. I do not need to stand paralyzed watching as my husband screams in blinding pain as his brain is attacked by his cancerous body. Unable to do anything. That was then. It has become a living nightmare that I can replay at will. I don't need to. It happens on occasion, but I try not to. It hurts. Grief counsellors have suggested that at 2 years into my grief, it is still fresh. I wonder when the freshness of it will wear off. I am not hit with the raw edges as often any more and am looking towards today and a little of tomorrow.
   I have run out of words.
   Tonight they have all been said

Sameness

Sunshine stares over a street scene of sameness

Am I sameness today?

Wine mulled and sips supped

beside decadence in decades past.

Our stories streamed past ancient dreams that grew

and faltered and changed

of own accord.

reasons pondered by some, but not always many

Am I sameness today?

Heroes, figures and forgers

they live past, present and future

We pull them into own circus

Dance with and laugh at

Gasp in horror, not to look away.

this is us, this was me, this was you

was meant to be

destiny

good, bad, ugly

Trail my hand in God's dream

choice and fate meet

turn carelessly

free

A wise woman told me

let go of yesterday and tomorrow

they are beyond our control

Today is the only thing we truly hold

and Today I found a friend.

a metta meditation

May I be free from harm.
May I be healed.
May I be loved.
May I be at peace.
 
May you be free from harm.
May you be healed.
May you be loved.
May you be at peace.
 
May the world be free from harm.
May the world be healed.
May the world be loved.
May the world find peace.
 
 
May you all find love,truth and healing in your heart, so that you can go forth and shine that light into the world. Namaste

a day; a life lived

   Hmm, what fabulous thoughts that run through my head are worth spilling forth this evening? Dare I comment on the Christmas decorations that went up today, that thrilled my girls when they came home this evening? Carols graced my ears and put a remembered smile on my lips. Heritage and history float in the air on the magic of the season within.

   Or shall I remark on my yoga practice today, that is always a highlight of my week. It shines in my life as an integral lifeline and sanity. This is as much for the emotional support I receive from my beloved Wellspring members, as for the actual practice itself. I could not face the day today without holding in my heart the thought of loving kindness and grace that has filled me up on a little mat sitting on the floor. The ting of Valerie's tingsha instantly melts my heart and releases unknown tensions from the day. (Tingsha creates a meditative vibration but is more commonly used for calling one into the here and now. The striking sound of the Tingsha has the ability to call one forth as well as clearing any disturbing energies in the moment. The Tingsha brings clarity and spaciousness to any space - http://www.stonesforbones.com/page/934329) Namaste!

   What about my conversation with a fellow yogini who has also lost a partner, fallen to cancer? Her husband was 59 and died three weeks after being diagnosed. The future is always out there, but it is ripped away in the face of this insidious disease. It is hard to truly write that though, as I have had many unexpected gifts in this journey. One of them has been me. The me that is here right now with you sitting at your computer reading these words. Cancer destroyed my world as I knew it, but handed back the seeds to germinate a new one. My new life still seems to fit loosely, but I am allowing myself to try it on. I did not want it, but the wretched gift continued to lie staring from the floor where I left it. It will not be ignored. The gift has been the sharing of it. A hard gift that is prickly to hold on most occasions. A gift that I cannot give back. And I won't. I shared my gift with a fellow journeyer this afternoon as the rain began to sprinkle down softly on our heads. She seemed so strong for so early into her journey. That strength is a garment pulled on for the benefit of a world that does not want to see our pain. I know she has had her bleak moments, but has the will somehow to work through them. I guess I do to. Don't mistake me for feeling poorly as compared to my compatriot. I know I am further along than she. I know the putting on of face for the day only to loose the stomach for it by night fall. Tears by the ocean have washed through me. That is not today though. I feel and remember.

   Perhaps I remember more today for the scab I picked at yesterday. Yes, I felt it all day, despite the Christmas crooning that tempted soothed spirits. After dinner last night conversation flowed with dear friends over a bottle of wine. The children were downstairs, lulled by a movie and our conversation somehow stumbled into my memory land. How it gets there I wonder somehow, but I have been told I have the gift of gab. When encouraged stories flow. When some of the painful memories spill forth, they must be followed through from beginning to end. I have had times when a story starts, but the thread is broken and I feel lost and broken. I have to let it out when I get there. As I tell my tales I am right back there. I feel glazed over going into this inner world of memory that seemingly tortures me. The stories must be told though. Last night I wandered through the day that my cousin was torn from my life. At fifteen it was much too early and too harsh an experience being five months on the heel of Brad's death. It led to another death, this a living kind. My in-laws dissolved from my world at this time and I still tell the tale. I lay in bed thinking on them last night. They still haunt my thoughts and I offer up my pain and regret to the ethers. A shame, a shame. Loss of a life, to bring on a new. I think that is where my rambling will end tonight. No grand epiphanies tonight. I take a kiss from the wind and curl into my pillow with it.

sweet dreams...

 

I can do it!

   Ok, I am loving blogging, but getting frustrated in trying to learn how to add new stuff! I saw some cool counters, but cannot make them work! Anyone help out there in blogger land?

   In another vein, I am thrilled to have had someone sign my recent addition of a guest book. Even more exciting was that it was the author of one of the books on my night stand! Neat! Super cool in my book. I have been excited about the fact that I have been doing well at writing in my blog on a regular basis and have got positive feedback from a few fronts. Thank you for all those encouraging me! It is a great feeling to have a voice and know that it is valued. I have dear friends and appreciate all the kind words shared. I feel I am a lucky soul to have that support. I know that some nights my words are loose and not worth much, but I still give myself a pat on the back for putting forth my effort. My NaNoWriMo winner friend is a source of inspiration at her perseverance. It keeps bringing me back. I find that some nights the words that flow are surprising and often wonderful. To me if no one else, but I have had smiles sent my way. I am learning that my own smiles and encouragement should be higher on the list of positive feedback too, but that is my own personal goal and struggle.

   So what is my goal and struggle for today? To be able to take the words that burble within me and set them to paper for a broader audience. Dare I say a book? Again my worst enemy shakes her head and tries to claim I cannot do it. "You do not have the perseverance!" she smirks. She shouts. I am trying not to listen, but finding it hard to give dedication. I had wonderful support today for this as a realistic goal. "Do it! Make it happen! Set a goal and timetable and it can and will become a reality". I really and truly want this to be a reality. It would just tickle me so much to be able to say I wrote a book. Another thing to sell it, but that is a challenge for another day. Today is to set aside time and WRITE. Yes.

 "Thursday you say?"
Bring it on. Let's give it a whirl...

domestic diva

The floor has been vacuumed
and it is time to go
late is the hour
and sleep dictates the show.

Drift off to ruffles
the dishwasher and dryer
domestic duties never end
their power is higher.

Dinner dances tomorrow
friends, fire and wine
beans never did get tended
but showtime will all be fine.

Another verse
instead of toilet swishes
counter swipes and mop drops.
Anon, time for sweet dream wishes.

Good Night

Recovering

   Perhaps all the low energy flowing flowing out of my virtual pen finally caught up with me. While desperately trying to mend my children's woes this week, I must have forgot my own. I opened the door and in swooped illness to knock me off my feet and away from a looked forward to weekend with a friend.  I will live, but not get much needed hugs. Ah well. I rested and was taken care of by my children and reminded to lie still and watch the world go by. I leave this brief this evening. Good night

Positive? hugs

   How do you manage to stay positive? I visit beautiful places like GardenMama and see a steadfast belief in the human spirit. I admire it. I wonder if there is always such kind thoughts in the author's mind or if she ever slips. I have had a busy week. I have done well and racked up loving kindness points in tending to sick children. Leaving the doctor's office today though the spectre of Children's Aid loomed in my mind. I wondered if it was somehow my fault that R hurt her arm. It seemed that it was such a faraway voice that reminded me that I was not even in the room when she fell. That alone caused twinges of guilt "Could I have prevented it if she had been in my sight?" I cannot be there for them all of the time. It is physically impossible and the thought of it just sets me up for failure. It seemed such a familiar pattern though to blame me for the ills of the week. Could I have done better?  Maybe. Perhaps.

   By Fridays end T and R are abed, sleep inching through their consciousness. R has no visual effects from her ordeal and would probably be far stretched to even think of her doctor visits as an ordeal. T's sick day on Wednesday provided her with interesting stories to tell her friends at nap-time, not demons to plague her. They both gave me hugs and kisses as I tucked them under their sheets. I reminded them that Daddy is with them always and the proof is that they exist. He is a part of them and all they have to do is hug one another to feel his arms around them. Beautiful thoughts. T also offered the smiling thoughts that I was there too and I carried Daddy too. I do. Beautiful girl. Beautiful man. They are my positive I guess. Just reach out for my hug and recieve my soul song. Thank you baby.

Lost love

Darn it all, but it is sometimes easier to live in the past. I just finished reading a book by Dr. Bernie Seigel and it even suggested to not fall back into old relationships to hold back loneliness. Or was that my Fairy Cards? Regardless, the thought was put forth from somewhere out there that going back to old relationships might leave me renewed with fresh life, but ultimately the reason behind the breakup/down just might rear its ugly head again. I sense the truth in that. I am tempted by promised smiles, touches and love. Something out there has heard my heart wavering and is dragging temptation away. My head tells me this is a good thing. A heartsmile fades. Goodbye again J. Maybe next life. Thank you for your from afar. It needs to stay afar. The fates have spoken.

Sick Day

My sick baby looks like so much paste lying against the pillows of the couch. Her movements today have consisted of running to the bathroom to dry heave, throw up or poop. The only other movement has been of her eyes, as she follows a movie on the DVD player. She is well enough to watch a movie, but barely able to take a glass of water to her mouth. I am sad for her, but doing well in being a caring Mommy, I hope. I have held her hair back as she has sat with her head in the toilet bowl. I have murmured that it is okay, as she quietly comments that her underwear have poop in them. It is laundry day and not nice to not have control of your body. I have been there and know it is not nice. It will be a quiet night tonight, if I am lucky. Jazz show cancelled. Yoga skipped (good thing my neighbour came over for yoga last weekend). Probably missing my therapeutic touch training tomorrow, which is disappointing. Not certain if the weekend will see us headed out of town as planned. Sorry Janet! The price of Motherhood (joyfully accepted as long as they are healthy soon please!). Fingers crossed that no one else feels crummy soon. Good night. Time to tend to babies.

Growing through love

   It is Tuesday evening. I enjoyed a lovely roast beastie dinner this evening with friends. The kids all ate well and got properly spun out by their dessert of chocolate and mini cinnamon rolls. I relished playing the role of sophisticate sipping red wine and discussing classic children's literature, homeless people and whatnot stuff. We laughed and socialized. I felt normal. I am a part of the world. I even worked today. My "job" is not one I had ever really visualized myself in, but I am thoroughly enjoying the experience of being an artist's apprentice/assistant if you will. How novel! How bohemian. How truly me. I also attended the second meeting of my new book club last night. Again feeling tres sophistice discussing the merit of a piece of literature (actually it was agreed that the novel we read was not a favourite amongst us and the author was not overly respected) We drank wine and ate cheese, crackers and truffles. We pontificated on relationships with Mothers and how that changes over time. All very real world. All lovely experiences that I am thoroughly enjoying. All things I could never have dreamt of doing two years ago.

   My world is a constantly evolving thing that I am enjoying more every day. While I would love to have Brad at my side to watch our children laugh and grow, that reality is not something that I can reach out and touch. While my Brad is still very real and walks with me daily, he is not something that I can curl up to in bed. He still offers me more love than I could imagine and much insight into life, he can never again watch the kids so I can run to the store for milk or mushrooms. Whatever figures creep into my world might offer a warm spot in bed for a moment, but the bed is mine alone. I hesitate to offer me for fear of hurting me, my girls and the reality that I still am trying to figure out and settle in. I crave someone to help hold the reins of life, but cannot help the critical eye I cast on candidates. Not good enough for the girls, or Brad, or worse ME? Truthfully I still don't hold myself high enough just yet to trust instincts and old flames. I want someone to be by my side and be perfect, but know that will never be. Not right now. Maybe not ever, but I doubt that. In my heart, I feel that a more deserving soul will walk upon my path some day and we will smile on each other. I do feel that. Maybe I have read too many fairy tales, but I think it is more the love that I have been honoured to be showered with over the last two years. I know Brad will always walk with me, but I suspect that he is ready to step aside when I am ready to love myself enough to walk with someone else. Beautiful soul. Thank you

Sunday Suggestions: Part II

   The daylight has seeped from the world. Sunday winds its way towards its close. A lovely day it was though. The birdhouse is now completed (slightly incorrectly - what else is new!) and its fresh coat of paint is drying. Images of our morning saunter through the forest please my inner eye in reflection. The general swath of dull brown this time of year belied a rainbow of colours if one was to walk slow enough to see. Red berries and dogwood twigs punctuated vibrant green mosses and paler green grasses fading thru yellow. Purple clover played saucily at the base of white birch trees. A few yellow and orange leaves clung to branches fluttering in wisps of a breeze. Black and white chickadees flitted through barren brown branches of mighty oaks. Pale mushrooms nestled close to their bases for security. The Queen Anne's Lace retained its dignity in its delicateness along leaf covered pathways. The smells of a forest alive as it settled down for its long winter's nap was a balm for a seeking soul. How can one not find their breathe in such a serene moment.
   I must even share a brief epiphany if you will as we ambled up the last hill towards the parking lot. A mighty oak tree stood off on its own in the grasses to the right of the path. At some point it had split in two, but seemed to still be struggling on. I pointed the Grandfather out to the girls and commented that when it died it would help to feed the rest of the forest, therefore living on and fulfilling purpose. The thought struck a cord inside myself as well. I likened Brad to my Grandfather image, my oak tree example. Brad has died, but he continues to feed my soul and strengthen me. He provided for me so that I may grow and flourish. That is where I am now. I am slowly recovering from the loss of my dear oak tree, but being nourished by what is still left behind. It struck me as a beautiful image and truth. Perhaps it might for others as well.

Sunday Suggestions

   The muffins are cooled and the day is open to behold. What shall weave its way into today? The last of the autumn leaves are scattered in small pockets and suggest themselves to me. A wooden birdhouse lays on the counter and my daughter's eyes beseech me to put it together. Forever a crafter, she is in her glory when we are creating something, anything. I love my little fairy child for her joy of life! I have a yen to whiff the outside air and soak up the mild weather. The scents of a forest floor call to me in promise of renewal. The season of hibernation lends one to thoughts of quiet activities and togetherness. Anon! I must go!!

Ponderings in Poetry

The bath slowly fills.
escape to quiet
Children abed.
Swirling, whirling
Pop!
the bubble bursts.

Invitations uninvited
quiet smiles,
but no.
Why? Need not? not
Bigger needs are me
peace be to me

To take care of me
I must sit still with thee
Stare through the candles flame, and be
Perhaps then to see
How I can be free
and love myself at last with glee
(teehee!)

Arms wide open

Arms wide open
beautiful blond heads racing
headlong towards me
screeches of delight
to see me. Me.
Precious

Sulking lower lips
accusing me of treason
as dreaded supper sits cold
on table so long
long enough to raise tones of mine;
Ire

Sleeping bodies
surrounded by books
blankies and cuddlies
Day is forgotten
Smiles survive
Love

Rainy November Day

It was cool and rainy this afternoon. The chill has slipped into my bones and I feel lethargy creeping in as well. Dinner is a kid-friendly affair (chicken fingers, fries and carrot sticks from the farmer's market to add a healthy edge), as I do not have the energy to encourage eating for an hour. No fights please! I suspect a bath might be in order this evening to give the feel of a warm hug around me. Fire logs might even grace the hearth for the first time this season. I still have not got around to getting any real wood, so make do on a chilly evening. My therapeutic touch class this afternoon was lovely as always, but I think it unravelled an emotional hiccup in me. I feel low energy. Take care of me tonight. Loving kindness. I offer a kiss to my heart centre and hope that my love will sustain til bedtime. The dinner bell rings...

Drum circle

As the rhythms still flow I will pen a few words. This evening was my drumming circle. It is a little gift to me and I absolutely love it. My personal rhythm is not always all it could be, but when I sit in a group of like-minded people and we all listen and play a beautiful heart beat comes out. Layers of tones slide into strategically placed tings and dongs to make a lovely esoteric vibration. I love being a part of our little trance session that transports us all out of our busy reality. I can step out of my shoes and step into my heart and let it sing. There are resonant vibrations and drum beats that help one remove from your head and just feel. I am surprised by not only how much I respond, but how everyone appreciates the gift we create and offer up to ourselves. It is truly beautiful and special. It is another step in healing that cleans the inside heartaches away, if only for a spell.  Thank you to my special friend Randolph for bringing this experience into my life and being a part of my life. One man that believes in life and me. He pushes me to believe in me. Smiles for us my friend ...

That darn positive angel is wrong tonight, but she won't leave me alone regardless

Sometimes such beautiful words and thoughts spring forth when I metaphorically put pen to paper. I do love my actual pen and paper, but my blog space has served up some interesting thoughts and reads as of late. Some nights, like tonight, I feel heavy of heart and not pleased with myself. Tonight my blues have no real clues. I had a day of uncertainty in self, feeling not good enough and making wrong decisions left and right. I see failings and incompetencies and wallow near the pool of tears I keep on hand for occasions such as these. Tomorrow may sprout rainbows and hugs and pats on the back, but I cannot let my backslides and inadequacies go. Is there comfort in allowing me to never be good enough? No. It just is. I allow me to be or not be what I wish I could be. I wish I were stronger, better, calmer, more. My guardian angel chastises me and reminds me that if I were listening to someone else I would not accept dismal thoughts or words, but point out positives hidden everywhere. The words are dull tonight. As am I. Worthy of  bed and not much else tonight. Perhaps tomorrow will offer refreshment and return a positive spin. Let it go. night

Healing

Painted hands typing tapping.
Why do I let the door drift open
to phone calls with pain at the end?
I know that a fleeting smile
will quickly be erased by the lonely ache of yesterday.
Yesterday's yesterday becomes golden
gilded in empty words
and empty arms.

The haunting music

touches my inner voice

where my soul cries at injustices of the world.

Why? why

"Why not", is a voice that pokes me into tomorrow

Tomorrow holds promises not yet told.

I can see smiles and laughter

My penance for the tears I offered up

A pain I cradle in my heart

a soft pain now

a forever pain that I gladly hold up for eyes to see.

So many tears

"See, look I survived! Strength."

That is not how it happened, but you don't need to know.

Gods hands hold a healing heart.

Unseasonable Smiles

Yesterday was a beautiful day. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in the sky. The temperature was an unseasonable 17 degrees that was reminiscent of the summer that mostly wasn't. We were lazy and lounged most of the morning. The girls laughed and kicked in the leaves at the curb as I packed the van for our trip to Grandma's. T-shirts were sported. A lovely day for a drive, so a long cut was taken. Country roads graced us with scenes of farmer's fields, lonesome cows and the last of the motorcyclists wheeling with wind in their faces. Brad rode shotgun, as a map loosely guided the van vaguely east. The Indigo Girls crooned in my ear and I was in my glory.

Until my cell beeped at me. Two missed calls, one from my Mother and one from Billy. "Where are you? Your mother is worried sick about you," a text accused. I was jarred back into present time, which was surprisingly late. My random drive and serene sunshine were abandoned for a trek back to the highway at a much faster pace. Accusing tones figured I had drank too much the night before or met someone that distracted me; neither true. I was enjoying the day in my own world, in my own head. "She must be off on a reiki train," they scoffed. I was relegated to the couch and barely made it to the adult table. "It does not matter", droned in my head. I am tired today though. Not enough sleep. Not enough normal for my family. Where do I belong? My own head seems to give my family worry. Sigh....

Family Gathering

MMmmhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Breathe. The sound of squabbling children will fade into the background. It is early in the day yet. Not time for the war of the worlds yet. Maybe I will be lucky and meltdowns will be averted by the presence of relatives. We shall be gathering into the fold of my Mother's arms. Birthdays are the stated occasion, but really it is the end of summer and we have not all gathered in a while. Excuses are not necessary. It is purely just about love. We need to reconnect and hug and smile. Drinks will be imbibed, but perhaps in less moderation due to the various colds/flus that everyone has been recently battling. I shall make this brief therefore today and get a start on the business of the day. Family, food and fun here we come. Have a lovely weekend and enjoy the sun!

A red rose fills my vision, brain with energy shared for the day

Smiles return.

Coffee with a friend

meet, laugh, share, chat.

Beautify me!

Hair shimmers in rainbow dreams.

Gorgeous red, yellow, blue, indigo streaks.

No charge for that extra. Ahhh

Panini to go. Warm and toasty

nutrients for the tummy.

Yummy.

Soothing thoughts, voices fill the afternoon

Peace and love through energy channels

straight into open soul

bliss and a shoulder that sighs in satisfaction

wonderous smiles and hugs

vibrating golden glow

hold it for longer

hold it for always.

Remember to find it again

The Body will remember again

The knowledge is there, sliding into cells

wonderous touch

love

Cascading into friends eyes

 and future finds

fill our tummies with more yummy yummies

a meal fit for a fairy king in a children's parade

no tears, but of laughter

no fears, but of time sliding away

life is today

life is all days

Life

Wednesday Whirlwinds

I had a good day today. It was another mild, blissfully sunny November day. I dropped off the kids, grabbed a coffee and headed out to pick up a few things. I managed to spend a few dollars, but got a birthday present for my sister, a new bedspread  and mattress pad for the soon-to-be new bed for my eldest and some other bits and bobs. Fresh bread from the bakery served to fill my tummy with sandwich before attacking the floor that had challenged me for too long. Satisfaction at a clean floor helped me to sail along to yoga for an ohm good time. A bottle of wine picked up and hugs from the darlings continued the smiles, as did lighting of the BBQ for a late in the season steak dinner. All good.

So where did it all go wrong? All that positive energy I built up all day exploded when the milk hit the floor (my newly mopped floor!) followed by a plate full of juicy steak, potatoes and salad with salad dressing of course. The chair pillow was soaked. The wall was splattered. My beautiful clean floor had lasted for a scant few hours and I was livid. I hate mopping the floor, but when I do mop I find a serene beauty in it. It makes me blissfully happy to know that I have conquered the dirt, germs and stains. It never lasts though. The day the floor gets mopped is the day that mass food spillage is guaranteed to occur. Sighing and shaking my head are all I can muster now, but the kids got worse than that. I sometimes wonder where my anger comes from. How can I get so upset over spilled milk? Well, it was also working on the 45 minute mark of sitting at the table and I had been watching them eat for the better part of 20 with an empty plate in front of me. Both of their plates were still looking almost untouched. "Wasting food!" my brain screams at me. "My time and energy" my defeated soul moans. I yell and rant and lose the battle again. "Maybe I just won't make dinner any more!", I fume, knowing that is a ridiculous threat, but wishing that I could somehow convince them that the dinner wars are just not worth it. I am not the first parent to have these challenges and I know I will not be the last. I just wish I could be a little more graceful at making dinner flow pleasantly. We lit candles for goodness sake and had music playing! It should have been a good meal. I even served bread (probably the downfall there). Yeah, yeah, you lose Katherine, let it go.

I could not let it go though. Dinner crashed to its close and I re-mopped the floor. The dishes were put away from the dishwasher and refilled. I finished my wine without children, breathed for a moment and then jumped back into the ring. This time the battle was the play room. Why do I do this to myself?! Oh Lord, but the floor has not been seen for many a day/week. I entered the room and threw the gloves down. Television off. This was serious. I had been warning them this day was coming and today was the day. I figured I was in the right spirit for it, so sat down amidst the mayhem and began to sort. The kids brought me toys to sort into bins and I directed what was to go where. "Garbage. Your bedroom. Dress-up trunk. Garbage. garbage." Two hours. T asked me, "is it bedtime yet?" I looked at my watch to find it was already nine! Holy shamoley!! The mess was tamed though. The floor was discovered and it was good. T even thought it looked much better. I tried to vacuum after the girls were tucked into bed, but even it resisted me tonight. A broom finished the job. Unfortunately my dream of a tub tonight was shattered. Sigh. Alas, alack-a-day! The basement can be walked into though. The garbage has been put out. And now it is way high time for me to toss my weary cranky body into bed. I will live to fight another day, but hopefully tomorrow the fight will not be about food or a messy basement. Please