The very bad, no good, terrible day

The very bad, no good, terrible day
started yesterday
with meetings delayed
or thrown aside (I'm afraid)

No time to cancel the poor
babysitter's tour
with my babe's that adore
her infectious crafts (always more!)

a book not read
when I finally laid my head
to pillow for rest
you will finish! (my brain requests)

tomorrow dawned bleary
and my sighs made me teary
but the coffee was put on
and rain gear was planned to don

the house was left in a flurry
(we are always in a hurry)
but our efforts were for naught
as the bus had left (my curses fought)

My children begged to follow
- the will to fight was hollow
The field trip could be saved,
but our trek slowed on roads unpaved.

A pee break made us miss
the wagon ride of bliss
so I surrendered to fate
giving that we were too late.

Turned the van back to construction row
a new path we would go.
For apples we would look
and at the sand hill I finished the book!

Now to bed I fly
as I can barely lift an eye
I hope for a new day to be
more graceful for you and me...

Happy Birthday Baby!

Four years ago

Today

You filled my arms;

Overflowed an already full heart

with smiles anew

for you

and your haste to bring

Love

To the world

and my little corner of it…

©

Happy Birthday

to my darling baby

who turned 4 years old today.

This also happens to be 

160 characters,

spaces included

which makes it eligible

for the Sunday 160.

Cool!

Craft Day

And after raking all those leaves

a few were brought inside...

stuck to a great big roll of mac tac

(or contact paper as some may know it better as)

and sealed up

for posterity to commemorate the beauty of Autumn

For visitors

and us

to keep that sunshine in our hearts

for the rainy days ahead

(like today)

dahlia flower
spreads her blossoms to the wind
captured by a girl

The first tender day

As their car drove out of sight, I looked around me at the glorious day that was. Sunshine filtered through the sparse crabapple and I decided it was time. Yes, with the sun's relative warmth upon my face, I released a smile to the world. Today would be the first tender day to rake the leaves of Autumn. 

I gathered up rakes, gardening gloves and the many yard waste bags we would need to begin the task at hand. Don't get me started on the bags though, as paper may be environmentally friendly, but just add a little rainfall or two and those bags shred like there's no tomorrow. I mean really, don't they know that it rains every other day in the Fall? Maybe not in your part of the world, but in Southern Ontario it seems to have rained pretty regular the last few weeks. How is a paper bag supposed to survive that? Hrumph; I digress...

So the lawn got raked

and the pile it grew

until all that could be seen

was two little heads poking through

I couldn't resist

their playful ways

So I dove right in

to the leaf pile fray

Attacked by the littlest one

I resisted not a wit

as who can resist that smile?

  pfft- not even a little bit

but friends don't you worry

that this caused me to frown

 as you can clearly see
I did not fail and drown

and in case you think you missed it,

but still wanted to help out

bring along your rakes and gloves, 

for there's still more to throw about!

 

Sitting in a Corner

Funny girl
Strange girl
  sitting in a corner

Searching eyes
Seeking eyes
  looking  for the one

Dress me up
Dress me down
Today's occupation
furrows a frown.

I pushes out.
She's holding back.
I seek heaven.
She'll cut no slack.

Errant wandering path
with disbelief's gaze.
I'm questioning how
to navigate this maze.

Desperate hope
for tomorrow's dream;
dreams of sunshine, alas
cloudy hopes 't would seem.

Faith
Warm faith
  tucks me in at night

One
I am the one;
  chills that give me fright

Funny girl
Strange girl
  sitting in the corner

Searching eyes
Seeking eyes
  looking for anyone

Nothing Says I Love You Like...

Nothing Says I Love You Like A Skull Ornament

I have to preface this post today. I hang out with some interesting people. Some wonderfully, loving, artistic folks, that sometimes have a slightly skewed bent to them. ahem, a little of the macabre, if you will. Yes, they create cute little kitty cats, bunnies, fairies, and a whimsical moose or two, but their newest venture has a decidedly darker humour to it. I don't always understand it, but I have to love it. Please check out the BooGirls Etsy shop and show some love to these unique artists who have created and hand-painted all these metal ornaments just in time for Christmas.

Love

dark eyes

twirling in a miasma of 

twisted thoughts

wishing,

waiting for the punishing,

sweet tantalizingly

torturous words

to wrench themselves

from my lips

"I love you"

only to spin headlong

into another world

of questions,

feelings bigger than 

one's own world

can fathom 

defeat

nothing says i love you

like a skull

~

I have also linked up with my friends at One Shot again this week for their weekly One Stop Poetry gig. Write on my friends, write on...

Mushroom Hunt

 a quick peek in trees

reveals mushrooms aplenty 

but edible fare?

Great Zimbabwe

With our fill of city under our belts and dear Brettski behind the wheel again, we were off to track down history in Zimbabwe. Well fed, showered and up to date with letters and curio-shopping, we stepped back in time. Our destination was Masvingo, where we planned to visit Great Zimbabwe, a ruined city that was once the capitol of the Kingdom of Zimbabwe.

Having toured through Europe the previous year, my sense of history had vastly enlarged in scale. Back home in Canada, old houses were 80-150 years old, but massive trees easily beat out on any man-made historical sites around. In Europe, I had been awed by buildings that had been in existence for hundreds to over a thousand years, many having seen many uses through the ages. A quiet respect filled me to walk through solid rock structures that had seen members of the Roman Empire walk through these same rooms. History became tangible and reachable in ways I had never experienced. We had not seen many old structures thus far in our African journey, so I relished this taste of their history.

The history of Africa is written in the people’s songs and stories. We know that some of the oldest human remains have been found on the continent, but they have typically been societies of hunters and gatherers. That equates to temporary mud and grass huts that are abandoned to follow herds of migrating animals or to escape times of drought. The rondavels I had seen might have been decrepit looking and old, but it was relative and of a people’s ancient history, they gave little story.

Great Zimbabwe was different though. Here was a landmark built entirely of stone and without mortar, that had begun construction in the 11^th century. It existed and thrived as a city from 1100 to 1450 AD, during the country’s Late Iron Age, at which point it was abandoned and fell into ruin. As we wandered through the stone structures, we were given a view of an organized people where upwards of 18 000 people may have lived in its heyday. Now sections of walls were gone and towers were only envisioned through pictures provided by the site. An amazing amount of the walls and towers were still intact though, highlighted by the Conical Tower, which is 18 feet in diameter and 30 feet high.

This was a kingdom ruled by the Shona people long before white faces invaded the lands. With the grounds covering a radius of approximately 100-200 miles and encompassing 1800 acres, I could not help but be impressed by this ancient black civilization. The relatively recent end to apartheid in South Africa had not dispelled the feeling of a racially motivated social tier in the communities we had wandered through. This monument must have felt like a slap in the face of apartheid’s belief that blacks were simple and inferior. Of course we were not in South Africa anymore and quite a bit of the racial tensions had eased just in crossing the border, but they were still in evidence. Spending the day wandering along walled passages and ducking under ancient stone lintels was an interesting experience that gave another picture of time in this land that made me feel more at home with its history in trees and rocks.

After being treated to another home-cooked meal at Clovelly Lodge life was looking pretty sweet. Feeling closer to the people and their land, Miki and I decided to explore further on horseback. We galloped along behind our guide with grins plastered to our wind-swept faces. A big home-cooked breakfast stuffed us again with the delightful taste of leisure. This must be how the other half lived, I surmised with happiness as the sun set on another glorious day in Africa.

Promises or Threats

you set my heart on fire

your touch a magnet

of  love;

once

now 

inflamed thoughts

scalded by infused words

are a far cry from love's touch

bitter anger at heart's words thrown away

leave oceanic tears dried up 

flagrantly used up

 years ago

eyes

full of malice

afraid of what they see

cling to anger at today's failings

no more talk of love's bosom

Promises or Threats

harsh; is that it

or not

?

The Clean House

Through yonder window

I do peek

while head bends

to the floor.

If only, 

if only the floor

were clean

then I could go outdoors

but no

I labour and 

scrub below

the view of grass still green.

bright promises glint

reflecting day's descent

left darkened on

knees of nevermore.

breezes blow

past brushes path

small mercies

on a cheek so keen.

Aye, by lantern light

rest will come to alight 

on  thine house that sparkles bright

and a woman laid to bed, goodnight!

*

This is my take on the Magpie prompt this week. I have been cleaning in preparation for visitors this weekend, so envisioned myself on the floor scrubbing, looking up longingly at the tease of the outside world. Life kind of looked like that today.

Ramp it up

   Life has been hectic as of late. Run, run, run. My littlest one will be celebrating with her first real live birthday party this weekend. Last year the celebrations were cancelled due to H1N1 scares. Bummer! So for birthday number four, we are gathering up a gaggle of kids to run amok at the Children's Museum. Original thoughts had been to go to a local farm where they have hay rides, pedal cars, animals, pumpkins and more, but the weather looked ominous, so plans changed. 

   As if on queue, a thunder clap rings out. crrraaaaBOOOOMM! Yes, looking out my window the rain streams down to make all those colourful leaves wet, soggy and heavy as hell when it comes time to rake. Oh well, another days project. Today, I have been kept busy with the domestic duties of picking up groceries (yeah farmer's market!), collecting more stuff for loot bags, working on some of the new tasks assigned by my Mompreneur boss, and of course laundry and vacuuming. 

    The computer cacked out on me, so I vacuumed the couch and changed the laundry while it re-booted. As has seemed to be the case as of late, now I need to fly again. There was going to be some wonderful thoughts swirled around in here, but if I am late to pick the kids up from school I will be sent to the principal's office. Ack! So I apologize for my infrequent posts that have not been inspired, but with a short work week, it just isn't all going to get done.  The sun has reappeared in time for me to head out, so I bid you adieu.

The crooked tree waves goodbye!

Water

The sun reflects in it

Mythic creatures

lumber in for refreshment

at its shores

Flowers thrive near it

Children are awed by its beauty

and the whole world 

reflects on the splendor,

the serenity,

the tranquility and power

of its song.

Water

Autumn glory

reflected on shores

of Nature's colourful canvas

bliss

~

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving Day;

This weekend, I gave thanks for sunshine and a tantalizing bird tanned to succulent perfection. Family surrounded me and I knew I was blessed with their presence and the moments to appreciate this in good health. We raised glasses of vino, milk and beer, toasting thanks for the life we were offered and the people in it. Faces not able to join us, still live in our hearts, therefore their presence lovingly remains. The table was decorated by a vibrant display of the leaves, milk weed, grasses and pine cones that we collected on a glorious sun-filled walk the day before. My vitamin D intake rocketed back up to fill up my smile bank for the week. Bliss reigned, with the harmonious rhythms of a trickle stream carrying sunshine straight into my heart.

For our feasting, potatoes were beaten flat, as were poor carrots and squash in a separate receptacle. Tender green beans were dipped in boiling broth to break our bread with. We gave thanks for the food received, as penance. Our reward was pumpkin pie baked to brilliance, by my hand (well, mostly my girlies, but with my supervision) and, I must add, liked so much by my niece that she even came over to tell me she loved my pie and politely asked for more. I was floored and honoured by this rare gift of appreciation from her.

"Yes! Have another! Have the whole pie!!" I beamed.

Hugs and kisses and cards filled the night. No gruff words marred the joyous mood and we fell peaceful to slumber that evening. Well, something like that anyway. My brother-in-law and I had toasted over the top a few nights previous, so my sister took her turn to bottoms up a few bottles. Mild-mannered Mother figures by day, often makes for a more colourful vocabulary by night. Nothing a little breakie the next morning couldn't solve though. 

So I give thanks. I give thanks for my loving family, who I can be myself around whether that is embarrassing or not. I give thanks that I can count my family amongst my best of friends, as we truly enjoy spending time with each other (obligation is not our prime motivator). I also give thanks for my other dear friends that I may not have seen this weekend, except for in my mind's eye. The love and support that I receive is pretty special and keeps me going on many a day. My friends in the blog-o-sphere are counted here as well, as the support found in these beautiful circles helps to validate me, my life and my place in the cosmos on another level. Your virtual hugs mean a lot to me, I am not afraid to say. I suppose the other thanks I can count are for a working washing machine, a beautiful new tiled bathroom, a roof that should shield Mother Nature's wrath for many more seasons to come and two cute cats that are thrilled to see us, despite leaving presents  at their displeasure at our mini-vacation. They remind me to give thanks for running water and the opportunity to have clean floors. These are all gifts, big and small. Life is a gift wrapped in multi-layered wraps and for the joys and sorrows and lessons I have been offered, I give thanks...

Renewal

Thoughts scattered

and blown on the wind.

Rain clouds parted

to puffs of gray

on fringes

of my mind today.

The rain has pattered

flattening crops

of yesterday

leaving chaff and seed

in the rivulets

of my mind.

Once it mattered

that hands were there

to collect and thresh

the offerings of earth

and sky 

and me.

Now, lie battered

twisted and crushed

by floods of time

welling,

pushing to pop

the seed for rebirth.

The world lies shattered

seeds left to rot

pushed under clay

forgotten - Not

discontent in thought

of winter's rest

All gathered

'neath hibernation's blanket

waiting

to see if renewal

really comes in Spring.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Summer clothes have been put away. Sweaters and socks have been pulled out and freshly laundered. Winter coats and boots have been sized out and wait for the first flecks of snow that will tinge the air. This past week we saw much rain in my part of the world. Blissfully sunshine streamed through windows yesterday and today. Thanksgiving weekend promises to be a wonderful one and for that I give thanks. : D 

Despite the rain, I wandered through the garden this week in a spare moment. Frost has not bade goodbye to growth and colour in my world as of yet. I was pleasantly surprised to find many plants still flourishing. Today I share my soggy sojourn in the garden with you. I shall be off to my sister's house this weekend stuffing myself full of turkey and mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie and pumpkin beer. Happy Friday and Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends!

Toad Lilies

Toad lilies are some of my favourite fall flowers. They are quite delicate looking, but serve to brighten up the rather dull surroundings this time of year.

Dahlia

This gentle dahlia might be shyly hiding its bloom, but it still brings smiles to my face.

  

Berries on the Burning Bush

The burning bush offers up some treats for any bird who happens to have a yen.

Thistle

Oops, missed one! A nasty thistle will make anyone howl in pain if they don't watch their step in my front yard.

Common Dandelion: Waiting to blow its babies throughout the yard

Next years crops should be bountiful with this little guy ready to let fly with his seeds of renewal. Oh well, yellow carpets are pretty, I guess.

Thursday Fun

Oh Dear,
What can the matter be?

The bathroom's not clean
and it seems it will never be...

The laundry piles up
and it stretches to eternity

The garage has a mess
that is just darn embarrassing 

The counters are gone
buried under paper's cluttering

But the children are coming home soon...
Yes, today
and then we will whisk away
and forget it all in play
with cousins, aunts, uncles
and Grandparents in the foray
Yeah!!!

Peace

There are waffling spirits that swirl around. A crease furrows my brow that I do not like. So I will counter with a little bit of peace sent out via an old song about Peace. I surround me in a colour bath and drift off to dreams of family and love and togetherness.

~Peace to you ~

my rock

-rock-

My dear

your birthday nears

thoughts drift to you

remembered.

-Grief-

once held

in stagnant arms

enfolded life in limbo

waiting

-life-

slowly rises

with drifting skies

to patch a path

renewal

-tomorrow-

silver linings

bright coloured mittens

a few favourite things

hope

~

"Let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing"

quote from "The Prophet" by Khalil Gibran

Wednesday shall break in a scant few minutes. I must hasten to bed, but offer up a cinquain poem of hope.

Something I cling to, crave and try to hold in my heart

with memories

Happy OneShot Wednesday.

The Reunion

Heaven Lodge welcomed us back, but our stop the second time was brief. This was just a layover now to regroup before our next leg of the journey. I gladly succumbed to a hot shower to wash away the sweat from our trek through the wilds of Chimanimani National Park. The scalding water could not wash away the memories I held of star-filled nights unblighted by city’s illuminations though. We re-fuelled our bodies and the van, then pointed Arnie North towards Harare and hopefully our lost companion.

With no communication, we had no way of knowing if Brett would be in Harare or not, so we made haste to get there as quickly as we could. Our haste was well met by giant bear-hugs from dear Brettski alive and well to greet us. He told us of his adventures in agony on the bus ride South, the flight to Johannesburg and straight to hospital, and x-rays that suggested that he had probably already passed the stones by the time he arrived. He was smiling and fine, and had been in Harare for 2-3 nights already by the time we got there, we discovered with glee.

We were joyous in our reunion and decided to celebrate. We played tourists and went curio shopping at a local open-air artisan market, where I bought soap stone carvings, a sarong, a crocheted vest and t-shirts for family back home. We splashed out by dressing up for a decadent meal out to Rani’s, an Indian restaurant, where we allowed ourselves to be catered to our every whim. It was fun pretending to be sophisticated, when we normally lived out of a backpack stuffed with six pairs of underwear, two t-shirts, three tank tops, one sweater, one pair of jeans, two long-sleeved shirts, three pairs of shorts, a sarong (newly purchased!), a dress, a skirt, a pair of pajamas and one towel (or something like that). Miki and I even put on makeup for the occasion! We held our forks daintily and discussed the state of the world, glorying in this break from our reality. I followed this up with much deserved phone call home to share my recent travel stories with my family and hear tell all the news from that part of the world. On a roll, I called my family in Cape Town to check in with them as well and see if there was any news from there. I was delighted to hear that I had received some letters and they would be forwarded along to me en route. With my ear aching, but my heart warm, I called it a night. The city had been good to me and friendly Harare was okay in my books.

The Name of the Game is Pumpkins

Gaze upon

flower fair

Soon a pumpkin

full of flair

Grow &

flourish in Autumn light

Only to turn

 to spectre of fright

Halloween

Demands it be

who’s to fault

but you & me

^^^^^

With so many out and about in the pumpkin patch this weekend, I thought I would join in the fun. My jack 'o lanterns are from days gone by, but we have been growing lovely decorative squashes in the driveway (self-seeded again) that shall be carved up in a few weeks time. Happy Sunday 160 hosted by Monkey Man!

The Toy Shoppe

**DISCLAIMER: THIS POST IS INTENDED FOR ADULT EYES TODAY. ;-)
Mama went shopping and had fun without the kids today

The rain did slant across my door.
I could not stand it any more.
The babysitter, she arrived post haste
with clock a'ticking time was not to waste.

A gaggle of girls and one wayward guy
thought they'd join me to get an eye.
Tickets free in my hot little hand
soon enough in front of trade show I did stand.

Enter slowly, the hall was dim
lights were flashing by a girl standing slim
With a mike to hawk her colourful wares
My smile grew wide with no modest cares.

Bending, spinning, buzzing, hot
I liked the look of these toys a lot.
But just arrived I needed more
I had to see what else was in store.

Here was silicone. There was glass.
Oh my I thought, does that go in your ass?
Slip and slide and watch the show.
Now I can glean where the butterfly does go.

I could spend all day watching a dance,
but for one eye that kept at my watch with a glance.
So hot and bothered, I collected new toys
that would have to make do without any of my own boys.

and now you know my secret bare
for yes I am one who just might stare
at all those toys made just for me
to put a smile on my imagery

Too much I fear I have said today
I hope you don't turn in disgust away,
but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do
and I think in my place you would do it too!

Red Shoes

My friend Nancy and I showing off our Red shoes

Some of you may have noticed that I was away yesterday. I apologize, but I had good reason to not pop in here to visit. After dropping my kiddies off in the AM, I ran like mad the rest of the day. "Why?" you ask. Well, I was getting ready to strut my stuff on the runway for the Hope's Garden Celebrate Every Body Fashion Show 2010 – A Red Shoe Event.

The activities started last Friday when I went to a little boutique by the name of Elizabeth Noel to get fitted for a few dresses. I was to dress in casual wear and formal wear and when the prospective models entered the store, we were told to browse around. This is not a store I can say I have shopped in, as the prices were a mite high for me, but there was some pretty stuff. I don't tend to need a lot of formal wear in my wardrobe, so was a bit gob-smacked as to what to wear, but the ladies that worked there got us all fitted and accessorized. The photos are not great, due to lighting, but these were the outfits I got to sashay down the runway in.

Casual Wear

Formal Wear

On Wednesday, I dumped my kids at Nancy's house so that I could go to the dress rehearsal. I walked into the building and my heart started to pound. I have never done any modeling before and for some strange reason, was shocked that the runway was right in the middle of the room with all the tables surrounding it. I was going to have to walk down that narrow strip with lights blazing and all the eyes in the room trained on me. Oh LORD!!! The thought of it made me start to sweat and all the chairs were empty. We got a spiel about how the night would run, were shown the dressing rooms, then gathered into our store groupings for a practice walk down the runway. The children went first and all looked like pros (except my girlfriend from bookclub's daughter who walked zombie-like shuffling to the end). My group was next up and I scrambled up onto stage to stare down the length of the runway. It seemed to stretch forever out into the audience. Our music cued and off the girls went one by one, till I was floating down my first ever catwalk with a  frozen smile plastered to my nervous face. One more lady followed me, then we all swished down the runway once more for our phantom audience to admire. I stepped down off the runway and breathed. There was no turning back now. I could do this. The rest of the models got their turns to practice their moves on the runway and then we headed back out into the evening. We would reconvene the next day for the actual show.

The next day dawned bright and sunny in my world. I kissed my girls goodbye, reminded them that D would be picking them up that evening and made them promise to be good for the babysitter. I would not see them again that day. I snatched a quick coffee, then made my way to the hair studio to get my locks styled. This was the fun part! I arrived at the DeVoG Academy hair salon at 11AM and was shown to the back where a stylist-in-training awaited. Yes, the reason why all the female models could get their hair styled was because a school had offered to do it. All good, I thought. I viewed the rows of gleaming curling irons and hair spray and forced a smile for my friendly, but nervous stylist. I explained that I would be sporting casual wear, as well as formal wear, but more importantly that my hair was fine and thin, and would not hold a style for any length of time without some artificial support. Product was necessary. Hairspray would have to take center stage with me.  An hour later, I had more curls on my head than I had seen since the bad poodle perm way back in primary school. This time it looked cute though. My eyes sparkled as I tossed my bouncy curls this way and that in the mirror. No time to dally now though. A list of errands was on the roster before I could get to the hall for the show.

I could drag this out some more, but I will cut to the chase now. I arrived at the hall and greeted K from book club and her daughter. After consulting with 8-year-old H on which nylons went better with my casual dress, I started to slowly prep for the show. We were fed sandwiches and fruit, but K slipped me a plastic glass with ice and scotch in it to settle the nerves that threatened to fray. Bless you, my dear! It must have helped, as I soon found me dressed and forcing myself to take deep breaths in a dark hallway. I inched forward behind the other women in my group, until the stage hand said "go!" and it was my turn. Around a curtain and the lights exploded in my eyes. I posed, smiled and strutted down the catwalk to "Tonight's Gonna be a Good Night" by the Black Eyed Peas.



And you know what? It was! I strutted, smiled, posed, turned and most importantly did not fall down and hurt myself, the dress or any poor saps in the audience. The intermission saw a bottle of wine circulate in our back dressing room which I got a nip of, although I didn't necessarily need the liquid encouragement any more. Nylons were stripped off, to give full accent to the red shoes I sported against the black of my dress. The second set, I smiled in the hallway waiting for my turn. I was shocked to hear the announcer introduce me (horrible pronouncement of my name, but no matter) and comment on my red shoes. I hadn't even heard a thing first round! I smiled for the photographer and discretely waved at friends in the audience, before getting another quick tour around the runway as a group. We exited out the other side of the stage (where I almost fell down the stairs this time! Caught by all the men waiting to go on next. oops!). After everyone completed their sets, we got one more last wander down the catwalk, before calling it a night. I can now add model to my list of  accomplishments.

And the crazy thing is, I liked it...

Remembering October

Ok, I am totally jamming out tonight. Alan Cross is on the radio with a listen to the history of ska. For those that are not familiar with ska, it is akin to reggae and rocksteady, but boppier. It is also an older musical form. There is a very distinct off beat and there is almost always a heavy influence in the brass department (trombones and trumpets) as well we saxophone, guitar, bass guitar and drums. Big artists were Desmond Dekker, English Beat, The Specials, Prince Buster, Toots and the Maytals, the Skatalites, Madness, The Clash continuing on up to more recently The Mighty, Mighty Bosstones and No Doubt. There has been several different waves of ska, from the original styles that came out of Jamaica in the 1950s and 60s, to the British Two-Tone Invasion in the 70s with other waves in the 80s and the 90s finally making some headway into the US. I want to share something, but am struggling as to what might work best. I love older ska, which has a certain heavy hand in swing, but grew up with The Specials and English Beat. "Mirror in the Bathroom" was a frequent request at high school dances. I think that I will go back to some of the origins though with a taste of Desmond Dekker, arguably one of the kings of ska that had a wide influence on the music of the day and musicians that fall under other umbrellas from reggae, to punk  with many things in between. Enjoy!

~~~~~
PS. You were right Patti. I went to bed and had another poem running round my head. I will share this one with you and the good folks at OneShot.

October Goodbyes


Her words whipped away
in the October air;
Unseasonably warm for
   this day.

Water fell to Earth
piled high in preparation,
but not quite ready for
   this moment.

A pop and a fizz
slowly saluted you while
tears, words, flowers and lager offered
   this goodbye.

Strength carried her
on unseen wings
into tomorrow's world
   with sorrow.

Gleefully released little ones

scooped clodfuls of dirt up

under parent's watchful eye

   with sweet sadness.

Children's laughter and scrabbling fingers
remembered, responded and rejoiced
filling memory's hole
   with joy.

The wind kissed her limp hair
with soft hands that waved goodbye
to a wife's sagging shoulders
   for eternity.


*Blessed be the children for they go where we fear to tread with innocence and love. Their purity and innocence lighten any moments from birth to death...


  

Naked as We Came

I wrote a poem that I am not sure I like.

I am too tired to fly to Africa tonight.

I cannot seem to get into my photo album to regale you with a new picture of something uber-wonderful to share with you and perhaps be inspired to write about.

I did go visiting some wonderful blogs this evening though (Just about Wednesday and OneShot is up and running already). I came across this post over at my friend C's blog and nodded my head all the way through it (something about everything to say/nothing to say and nowhere to start, so lost). Is the changing of the seasons sucking the life out of our feeble brains? I think not with seeing all the rest of the posts out there.

I shall turn into a pumpkin in approximately 2 minutes though, so regret I have not enough to share.

perhaps I will just share a song with you today. Iron and Wine is a staple for me when I need a musical comforting hug. Enjoy.

We Need to Talk About Kevin

We Need to Talk About Kevin;
By Lionel Shriver
(© 2003 Harper Collins)

It's that time of year again. Yes, I am speaking about my book club. We took a break for the summer, but our first meeting back is this evening. The wine will be chilling and appetizers always appetizing. So as I finished the book about a week ago, I thought I would get back into the swing of things and write a book review today.

***

Our first book of the year is "We Need to Talk About Kevin", by Lionel Shriver. I mentioned the book the other day in a post, but now that the book is finished, I can give you a broader picture of it. As I noted before, the book was a little dark in genre. The story opens with Eva Khatchadourian writing a letter to her estranged husband. She beseeches upon him to somehow forgive or understand her side of the story in the gruesome massacre of  seven students, a teacher and a cafeteria worker by their 15-year old son. She has not only had to deal with the ghastliness of this incident, but also the following trials that served to destroy her dignity, force her to sell her beloved travel guide company that she started from the ground up, and of course ultimately leads to the imprisonment of her son. Guilt at her flaws as a Mother is laced throughout this letter, and all the ones that follow.

"We Need to Talk About Kevin" is a work of fiction, but takes a very real look at potentially what makes a young mass murderer. Through letters to her husband, Eva paints the often difficult path she struggled with in raising a child that seemed disturbed from birth. From their son Kevin's birth, she laments on her lack of bonding, his incessant screaming and his seemingly critical eye on her. While she struggles to maintain that it is not all her fault, she illustrates over and over again her failings as a Mother. Eva recounts her life with her husband prior to them having children and constantly bemoans the losses she has had to suffer starting from the moment they conceived.

While portrayed as self-centered, I believe that Eva is too hard on herself and her overly critical eye. There are certainly incidents which seem regrettable in her child-raising abilities (to say the least), but as parents I believe that we are all often overly critical of our own ability to raise another human being at times. No one is perfect, but Eva seems to think that without perfection she is an abysmal failure. Perhaps given the final outcome of her son's life, she could have done more, but in her circumstances, parenting was a two-person job. It is apparent that despite the twisted mind that Kevin develops, he does have a certain measure of respect for his mother and very little for the father whom he patronizes with false platitudes from a very early age.

Can one person truly be to blame for another's faults? I have to wonder at the nature vs nurture balance, when the nurturing of Kevin does nothing to give him a base to enter society.

When Eva connives to have a second child to test whether it is truly her fault that Kevin is so twisted, I lose sympathy for her. I understand that she yearned for someone to love and to love her back, but she does not gauge the effect that this will have on the rest of her family. Her experiment to see if it is her maternal instincts that failed or if Kevin is truly just a bad kid, without even a thought to what might happen to the new child is selfish (and plausible? not so sure). Her beloved husband is not even consulted in this step and I wonder really at how beloved he really is with this flagrant lack of respect for him. He doesn't ever seem to forgive her for this and I wonder again, why they stayed together at all (except in part for story's sake).

While the story is well written, I have to say it was not a favourite of mine. I found Eva too critical and cannot cite lack of warm fuzzies from her own childhood as a great excuse. If we are to wonder at her upbringing as a possible cause to the calamities that befall Eva, I think perhaps this avenue should have been revealed more. I also wonder why Kevin's Grandparents are brought into the story at all, as they do not serve to advance the story or ignite other reasons as to why Kevin is so disturbed.

Regardless of my feelings, I understand that the story has been well received and is touted as an excellent take on the delicate topic of Columbine-style shootings in school. As my children were on the cusp of starting school, it didn't really make me want to let them go though. There was the barest hint of a positive note at the end of the story though, for which I am grateful in all of my silver-lined world.

Hope you are enjoying what you are reading... 

The Sleep Over

Bath

free, fun

scrubbing, splashing, singing

wash off day's memories

Clean

Bed

close, secretive

reading, tickling, sharing

whisper in the dark

Sleep

Girls

exasperating, cute

playing, wiggling, giggling

never going to sleep

Friends