Still Looking

My journal entries got longer and more verbose as the days went by. It was to be expected I suppose, as I spent most of my days alone. It left me more time to think and hence write those thoughts down. After travelling with so many people, through so many places, it was kind of nice to be left to my own devices. But in truth, it kind of scared me too. With all those kilometers under my belt, I felt like I should have some kind of hold on the world by now. Instead, I still wondered what I wanted to be when I grew up. More importantly, I wondered what I would do with myself when I returned back home to Canada. The answer seemed no closer than when I had left home over nine months before.

I returned to the best way to avoid thinking about the present moment – through travel. I left Swakopmund behind and took in Windhoek and its sights. I visited the Alte Feste and learned a little more about Namibian history. A Natural History museum provided information about some of the local animals I would see if I were to explore the game parks in the area. Interesting, but I had no time left for game parks.All I had left was the opportunity to read about cheetahs, rhinos and some of the aboriginal cultures that existed in the area. My time was ticking now though and it was more about quantity over quality.

From Windhoek, I boarded a train and blissfully watched the miles pass me by from the safety of its rocking compartment. It was the first time in my African excursion that I had the luxury of train travel, but the eleven hour journey left me a little less than impressed. Thankfully, it was an overnight trip, so at least a few of the hours slipped by unencumbered. Of course it also amounted to more time to ponder my fate, so when I arrived in Keetmanshoop my journal had a few more pages of notes added to it.

At this rate though, there would not be many more pages left to write. I had made it official. With a bittersweet heart, I changed my plane ticket for the last time. In a little over two weeks, I would fly out of Cape Town for Germany, then home. All that was left to do now was to get to Cape Town. Keetmanshoop deserved a cursory exploration, but as I debated what this arid town held to offer, I knew my heart was no longer in it. It was time to go home. 

Saturday's Email of the Week: Wan Chocletz?

Saturday's Email of the Week

Oh, hello Saturday! You have snuck up on me again. The week has breezed by, but thankfully we are home this weekend to relax. Err, well to sleep in anyway. Got leaves raked, window repairs estimated and lunch in a with friend I haven't seen in months. All in all, a good week.

Today, kids will be rolling, tumbling, then painting hot on the heels of gym class. Me, I will spend my hour sweating, then pick up a girlfriend to shop for some reasonably priced Christmas presents. Woohoo! Sunday will see some well-deserved downtime, but more than blissfully there were no major catastrophic events of the week. My visit with Grammy went well (much better than expected) last weekend. Parent-teacher interviews went well. Drumming went well and I might have a new iron in the fire as far as work goes. No complaints!

How was your week? Any deaths, births, new jobs or friends to boast of? How about a book finished or a bully squashed? Well, they can't all be banner weeks, I guess.

Oh, you want to know the best part of my week! I mopped the floor!

And what you all have been waiting for; drum roll please....

My EMAIL OF THE WEEK! Happy Saturday!!!!

()~~~()

I'm passing this on because it worked for me today. 


A Dr. on TV said to have inner peace we should finish things we started and we all could use more calm in our lives. 


I looked around my house to find things I'd started & hadn't finished, so I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of Chardonnay, a bodle of Baileys, a butle of wum, tha mainder of Valiuminun scriptins, an a box a chocletz.Yu haf no idr how fablus I feel rite now. Sned this to all who need inner piss. An telum u luvum

()~~~()

And I couldn't resist this video (mostly because of the last ad - that will be me sooner than I would like). Cheers!

Introducing...

When I Caught a Firefly

On a day filled with lots of camping

Spirits and darkness is falling down

And fireflies are out

I see a firefly

Fluttering about

I run and run

I feel a breeze

I try to catch a firefly

I run. I jump.

I clap my hands.

I feel a tickle

I caught a firefly!

I tell my Mom.

She does not believe me.

I show my Mom.

She gasps

“You did!” she said.

I tell my friends

My Daughter's hand at poetry

Momma's so proud ♥

firefly's flicker

is no match 

for the light in your eyes

~

Ocean's Kiss

I couldn’t resist. I slipped my shoes off so that I could wiggle my toes in the sand. It was delicious and extremely therapeutic for my aching soul. I was alone, but not lonely with my company. I was in the desert! The Atlantic Ocean stretched out before me and behind me the Namib Desert shifted and drifted, as far as the eye could see. Life surrounded me and it was beautiful.

The lapping waves reminded me that home was closer than ever. The mighty Atlantic Ocean kissed my feet here, then travelled to the East coast of Canada to deliver my love to the wind. Perhaps it would whisper its secret message to my Mother, as she stepped out of her car on arriving home that evening? Who knows? But its music filled me with the peace in this moment, making us as one. I lifted my face to the sky with a smile.

As I listened to the Earth speak to me, poetry surged through my mind. My Grandfather lingered there and offered me his blessings. With a tear, I picked up a pen and offered thanks.

Now all I hold is a polished stone

And a picture in my hand

But your loving glow

Pumps my heart to go

Eternity is yours for all time

-Love in a circle-

Every day is a good day, in the fact that it has been. 

Saturday's Email of the Week: Remember to Breathe

Saturday's Email of the Week

Today I will be going on another road trip. I may have seen my sister last weekend, as well as my mother, but we will all be gathering again to celebrate my sister's upcoming birthday. That is what we do. There will be laughter, dinner and more than likely some cards to be played, long before we crawl into bed for the night. Fun, but nothing especially remarkable. 

I shall be going in early tomorrow though, as my sister and I have a little road trip planned. We will arrive, hug our Mom, wave goodbye to our children, then get back into a vehicle and drive away. We are going to see my Grandmother. She will not be joining us for dinner, even though I will almost drive by her new home on the way to my Mother's. No. Sadly, it is beyond her now. 

Last weekend, my Grandmother moved into a nursing home. She had been living in a retirement home, but was not getting on there anymore. She is pretty much at the point, where she is unable to function in a gathering, such as a family dinner. She is out of touch with current events, cannot remember what is going on in the lives of her grandchildren, let alone her great-grandchildren and pretty much doesn't even care anymore. Not that she doesn't us. I know in my heart that she does, but time has been cruel. 

My grandmother has Dementia. 

It came on gradually. She forgot what she had bought at the grocery store and bought multiple items of it. Food rotted in her fridge. When the fire department had to be called because she left a pot on the stove to boil and forgot about it, we moved her closer to my Mom, so that she would have someone to look out for her. She also moved into a retirement facility, so that she would get better care. Her meals were provided for her, her laundry done and general housekeeping performed. But it was not enough. Her short-term memory doesn't last much more than five minutes and she is getting angry. She is quick to snap at anyone and disagreeable to the nth degree. I can theoretically understand it, as I think I would be defensive and perhaps a little snappish if I couldn't remember things and people kept treating me like a child. That is theory though. In reality, I don't think she even understands what she is doing when she attacks the workers with a vicious tongue. Or when she stares at family with such fight in her eyes that it feels like hate. I struggle with that. I know I should be understanding, but when she vehemently attacks words of truth, turning them into falsities that we all know are fake, my tongue bleeds as I try to prevent words from flying out. 

You know me. Words are my strong point. My Grandmother's anger, the dementia that has turned her into a nasty and negative shell of who she once was, is so hard to deal with. She taught me never to tell a lie. And I learned those lessons well. Now I struggle not to counteract the words that come out of her mouth. I am ashamed to say that I don't always do a very good job of that. 

So tomorrow my sister and I will go to visit my Grandma. I won't take my children, as I don't want to explain her words that sound like lies, but are in truth the warped reality that is the world of dementia. We will lean on each other, as we pay our respects to this woman who was once such a powerful influence on my life. She taught me how to bake and attempted teaching me to knit. I watched her cook, can and smoke anything that she came across and loved those lessons more than anything as I grew up. Now I will offer platitudes and bring up memories of days gone long ago. For the past is the only place where she lives now. I tear up now, but hope that I have the strength not to get dragged into a fight there. I shall just have to remember to breathe. Smile and breathe.

And keep this video that my Mother emailed me in my head. 

Happy Saturday all.

Lest We Forget

They fought for our freedom

They gave us their lives

Their families fall weeping

I’ve a tear in my eye

I stand by the cenotaph

Brace cold in the wind

Think of the trenches

Where they hunkered in

The least I can offer

Is this little pin

To say thanks for fighting

Pray never again

~~~

Lest we forget...

This is my tribute to all the brave men and women who put their lives on the line in the name of our freedom.

I offer it up for G-Man's Flash Friday as well.

Thank you

♥

Retail Shopping = Christmas ♥

Christmas is entering my world. I needed some retail therapy today, so started my Christmas shopping. Yup, it has begun. And it was good!

So, I have had Christmas carols running through my head (compliments of other blog posts) and my eye is scanning the room for Christmas Decor placement already (Snow globe on the new table or would that be better for the stuffed Santa?). I have a neighbour across the road with their light display up and keep thinking that I should get on that too, before I am doing it in the snow. I don't have the giant blowup snow globe to display, but a few lights & giant Christmas balls add a little flair to the yard. I bet the kids would flip for a Santa display on the roof, but it ain't going to happen!

Plus, I have been thinking safety. I will be putting the snow tires on the old clunker to keep all my passengers safe in the van again this winter. Winter coats, hats and mitts have been out for a few weeks, but I haven't broken down and put on My winter boots yet. Heck, I saw people in sandals earlier this week! Anyway, I couldn't find a new pair and last years boots left the soles of my feet a little on the damp side. More shopping!!

Just so that I can get you all in the Christmas spirit too, I thought I would share a video that I bet none of you have ever seen before. It is a familiar song, but with a twist. Enjoy!

Talking to the Wind

Dear Grandpa;

You lead a full and satisfying life. To you, three daughters were born, and have since gone on to do you proud. They presented you with grandchildren, whom you spoiled and cherished, every chance you got. You even got to see a great-grandchild before leaving this living world. Indebted, we are all a legacy to you.

You saw so much in your lifetime. The television came into existence, along with VCRs, fax machines and now the internet. You fought in World War II and served for many years afterwards in the Air Force. You sweated in steel mills, but I remember you sweating in the garden most. That lovely garden you built on Pender Island, along with a beautiful house to go with it. My memories of that house and garden will warm me for a long time to come.

I clasp my hand around a stone you polished and set. I do not know if it was specifically for me, but I cherish it none the less, for your effort into it. You were always working with your hands, creating something whether it was a green house, the ‘discomboobulator’, a ‘gotcha stick’, or your famous peanut butter sandwiches. You were always doing something. Even in your later years you were President of your local Legion, played bridge once a week with your lady friends on Pender, and you still had time to help advise your children and grandchildren on major life decisions. I recall my Mom, your eldest, asking for advice on job offers. Your youngest also consulted you for advice on important decisions. You had a good head on your shoulders and everyone knew it. Even in your last six months, you were looking into a job for me, despite major operations, recoveries and meeting the newest of your seven grandchildren.

Grandpa, you were the father that I never had. You taught Kerry and I (your favourites, you always said) how to spit, to collect wood and stones (still do that, especially this trip), to gather eggs when you had chickens, to fish, to play crib (and count via muggins), to blow my nose (which I should do now- sniff, sniff) and many of the manners that I rely on today. I have iconized (I know you would tell me to look that word up!) you in speeches (remember my grade 5 speech on your inventions!), in my memories of the summers Kerry and I spent with you and Grandma, (integral to my growing up and formation of personal beliefs and traits), as a teacher (I too have asked your opinion, mine on writing). It seems you had a hand in everything. While expert may be a bit of a strong word, your general knowledge was broad and indepth.

I love you for your hat and suspenders. I picture me snapping them and …Aggh”! Despite your military breeding, that I did not necessarily always agree with (“Front and Centre!”), it taught me respect for my elders and authorities, at least to a certain degree. We finally got you to start using a “please” now and then though, with much effort from our army of kids.

Now I recall helping you on with your socks and can see in my mind’s eye your varicose veins; snakes or worms you called them. I picture you in your rubber boots, with a chain saw in hand, sticking out your dentures at the kids (“arrh!”) and Grandma complaining “Geordie!”

Oh you could make us laugh! I recall more images of you slapping the blunt edge of a knife into elbows, with the words “elbows off the table” or “are you tired?” Your famous pout-catchers almost always got us laughing again, despite stubborn tears. The dreaded whisker rub made us shriek every time too. I could go on and on.

Grandpa, I love you dearly and always will. I carry you with me wherever I go. You are a part of me, as you are a part of everyone you touched. I cannot even begin to paint a complete picture of you, as the colours I have available are insufficient and drab, as compared to the rainbows you left on people. The respect you earned from the world, I flaunt as a memory to you. Many will pause, as your spirit touches the wind.

To SGT George McLeod: husband, father, grandfather, great-grandfather; The 23 years I have known you are not enough, but as the hurting flesh is laid to rest, your essence carries me on. May your heart be felt forever in those that pump your blood. Go well, strong warrior. Stay well.

Love ∞

And with that, a scotch was raised to my lips in memory of a great man. My eyes stung, as the ice clinked against my teeth, but I valiantly swallowed my sorrows along with the libation. My Grandfather had died the month before on my birthday. Teardrops littered my journal, as I paid homage to him. The hugs I needed and craved for release were over 6000 kilometres away, but there was nothing that could be done about that now.  I was alone with a grief that needed to be heard by someone, but all I could do was talk to the wind. So I did. 

Saturday's Email of the Week: Scars

Saturday's Email of the Week

Saturday has arrived again. I have to say that I am glad to see the week go. There wasn't anything extraordinary about this past week. The week before was rough though and I was riding out the after-effects from it all this week. Do you ever have those moments? Pushing yourself to survive in the middle of a crisis, only to be limp and stumble once you can breathe again? Well, that's me. I can handle crisis. I can be strong and stand up to do what I feel I have to do. Sometimes I might want to hide under a rock or run in the other direction, but I know when I have to face something.

Last week I did.

I put my cat down, then went to a family member's funeral with the girls a few days later. I didn't have to go to the funeral. It was my husband's grandmother, whom I haven't had much of a relationship with since Brad died, but I felt that I should for the kid's sake. Not that they knew her either. And not that they truly cared that she died. I don't say that to be callous, but they are 5 & 6 and not emotionally invested in a relationship that didn't have any flesh and bones to it.  Sad, but true and there is nothing that I can do about that now. What I could do though was take them to the funeral to meet some of their other relatives that are still around. Again, they weren't invested in the experience, but I suspect that some day they will be grateful that I made the effort. Perhaps they will be able to gain a new relationship with some of those family members down the road, that would not have occurred without my intervention. Or not, but I felt like it was my last opportunity to reach out and make that effort, so I grasped a hold of it.

This week, I have suffered for it all. I miss my cat. I dragged up old broken relationships with other members of the kids family, that would seem to be beyond repair forever now. I flogged myself for not being able to fix it all and make it better. But I have to move beyond that. I accept that time has moved on, because I have to, but still feel broken by those failed relationships. It is out of my hands though, so I must let it go. This week I had to process that though and try to shake myself away from feeling bad at kin lost. I have to accept my failings and those of others, and say "it is alright". I have to say and pinch myself until I believe it that "I am alright". Because I am. I cannot bring back a lost kitty, lost grandparents or great-grandparents. But I can accept them, grieve the losses, and be strong enough to let my children see that grief and the resilience that comes with moving on. I have to, because I love them more than anything and they deserve to have a parent that is as stable and imperfect as I can be.

So I guess this week was about healing. It can be an ugly process and I often disparage myself as I move through it. In healing though, once the scar has served its purpose, it falls off to show the fresh new skin underneath. It might be thinner, but it will thicken in time and those scars will be almost invisible to the naked eye. I guess that is what I am gunning for. I have an ugly coat around me, but it will fall off to reveal a beautiful new me underneath. That is the hope anyway.

Peace

Here is my handshake for you.

familiar foe

Anger

bubbles through my soul.

caustic curses

that have torn strips off

Me

and loved ones

(my babies small)

Aghast again

venom pours through cursed lips

making me hate

~self~

that

much

m o r e

I know the cause

I know it is bigger,

deeper and more profound

than just a broken nail

blistered thumb

or spilt milk

no...

there is grief there

(familiar foe!)

always ready to push

scrape away esteem

like blowing dust

off my oft-forgotten

soul

somehow easier 

to point fingers

backwards,

elsewhere...

blame time and me

as I sit sadly 

alone

because when it comes down to it

am I not at fault?

is it not I 

with power to hold tongue

to beseech higher powers

to give strength

understanding and love

nay

I crawl back into self

back unto my bed of nails

that I push into hands

eye and mouth

anything 

to stop 

stop

.

(perhaps words and fog 

will make 

these grumps

disappear) 

A Phone Call Home

The day dawned on my first full day in Swakopmund. I was anxious to get in contact with relatives back home, so found a phone as soon as I could. I hadn’t spoken with anyone for over two months, plus had not been very good with my written communication either. All I had sent them was the pictures of me and Nimesh, when I was dressed up in the full regalia of a sari and accoutrements back in Dar es Salaam. For all they knew, the pictures could have been my wedding photos. My Mother had worried about that from the day I left, as that would have matched my father’s tale of leaving home, never to return for having fallen in love on the road. While that was not the case here, they didn’t know that. And as for me, they couldn’t get in touch with me either, as I was constantly on the move.

So now I was eager for their voices and any news to catch up on. I rang through to Canada and joyfully heard my sister’s voice on the other end.  Sadly, my resulting phone call left my spirits far from high.

*****

And as it is Halloween night, that is all you get tonight. Hope you had lots of spooks visit you this evening! Boo!!!!

Happy Halloween!

Wee ghosts & goblins

scurry to my house

cry for treats & trinkets

til pumpkin orb I douse

You’ll be sorry kiddies

As I’ve a trick for you

I’ll get you my pretties

Boo!

All dressed up and no place to go,

but wait!

I can stop by Monkey's

for the Sunday 160

ah hahahahaaa!

Saturday's Email of the Week: The Dating Game

Saturday's Email of the Week

I love this! Make sure to watch the video to the very end. Its priceless! I can so relate.

Welcome to the dating scene...

 
BOB from Jacob Frey on Vimeo.

Calico Catnap

calico catnaps
now rest comfortably
on Canaan's shore

Goodbye sweet friend

your gentle ways will be missed

the story has a hole  

A Toast to Swakopmund

I was never so happy as to touch solid ground in Swakopmund. I had no urge to look back at the truck that had carried me across the desert, when it pulled away from me. Good riddance. The dual drivers had tarnished my sense of security and shortened a few years off my life. I had battled groping hands and a sense of doubt in humanity. Despite my fears though, I had made it.

As I settled into the bar at a new hostel, my first sip of Windhoek beer was like heaven. I had earned this beer, but somehow felt like I didn’t deserve it. My sense of being tainted left me feeling dirty. I could not change the past though, so instead let it go with hope for a new day bringing fresh smiles and happiness.

 Tomorrow, I would see the ocean again. The South Atlantic was just outside my view, but I could feel the salt air on my skin. It was a new coast for me and I was excited to see these western waves. For the time being, I looked forward to my first bed in three nights and a safe roof over my head. I enjoyed the stability of being stationary, the solitude of being solo and the peace that came with my pen on paper. A cold beer helped my troubles melt away and my journal reminded me that lessons can always be learned. The sun would rise again and I was blessed to be able to witness it.

A toast to Swakopmund.

Saturday's Email of the Week: Memories...

Saturday's Email of the Week

Its Saturday! Not quite back to quiet boring Saturdays just yet though, I am afraid. It will be a busy day today, but a good one. We are celebrating my littlest baby's 5th birthday today! There will be ice cream cake, glow-in-the-dark bowling, stinky shoes and a gaggle of kids hopped up on sugar and adrenaline driving me crazy! But I won't have to clean up the mess afterwards, so I am ready to go! The house will have to be cleaned though, as my sister will be in town for the festivities, but it makes for a good excuse to pull out the vacuum. Now, off to climb on and zoom we go! 


Happy Saturday all! Here's your bit of humour and history lesson for the week:

***

Have you ever wondered  why our great grandparents all had such fond  memories of their youth?

Well... I'm  surprised they remembered anything at all  !!!

Forget Tums &  Tylenol.

Forget Aleve &  Benedryl. 
Look at the cool  stuff they had back then!

A bottle of Bayer's   'Heroin'. Between 1890 and  1910 heroin was sold as a non-addictive  substitute for morphine..
It was also used  to treat children suffering with a strong cough.
And not once did my grandmother offer me  Metcalfe Coca Wine when we went to her place for dinner!

Coca Wine, anyone? Metcalf's Coca Wine  was one of a  huge variety of wines with  cocaine on the market. Everybody used to say  that it would make you happy and it would also  work as a medicinal  treatment. 

Mariani  Wine.Mariani wine (1875)  was the most  famous Coca wine of it's  time. Pope Leo XIII used to carry one  bottle with him all the time. He awarded Angelo  Mariani (the producer) with a Vatican gold  medal.

Maltine.Produced by the  Maltine Manufacturing Company of New York . It  was suggested that you should take a full glass  with or after every meal. Children should only  take half a glass.



A  paperweight:
A paperweight  promoting C.F. Boehringer & Soehne (  Mannheim , Germany ). They were proud of being  the biggest producers in the world of products  containing Quinine and Cocaine. 

Opium for   Asthma:At 40% alcohol plus  3 grams of opium per tablet. It didn't cure  you... but you didn't care!

Cocaine Tablets   (1900).All stage actors,  singers, teachers and preachers had to have them  for a maximum performance. Great to 'smooth' the  voice.

Cocaine drops for  toothache.Very popular for  children in 1885. Not only did they relieve the  pain, they made the children very happy!


Opium for  newborns.I'm sure this would  make them sleep well.  (not only the Opium,  but also the 46% alcohol)




It's no wonder they  were called, "The Good Old  Days".

>From cradle to  grave... everyone was STONED  !!!

A Dark Night

warnings

in the night

discrete messages

from those that cannot get through

marked with an X

to let me know

that people

worry

M, look delightful

poisonous intent on the tongue

beware the young

The Night Ride

The happiness I felt at rolling along again was sadly short lived. While I received the luxury of sitting in the front seat, I quickly found that my driver was not nearly as courteous as the last driver. He had a certain tone to his voice that made my smile fade a little. I tried to focus on the road ahead gamely, but could not ignore the noises that soon began to filter forward from the back bunk.  

Things seemed to be going from bad to worse.

As the sun set, we drove along in darkness. Few other vehicles passed us by. We were in the desert, driving towards the coast and it seemed even more isolated now that the sun was gone. The only thing that illuminated the night sky was the truck’s headlights carving a path through the inky gloom. What was worse, was that with two drivers, one could sleep while the other drove, keeping the truck moving 24-7. There was always a set of watchful eyes. It did not escape me either, that it didn’t sound like the man in the back was getting any sleep. There was much rustling of bodies and muffled grunts. While I could not understand the actual words that were being said, I got the feeling that the young woman in the back was not interested in the advances that were being foisted upon her. I stared out the windshield, trying to figure out how I could best help the poor girl.

Then a hand materialized on my leg.

I instantly pushed it away, but my hackles were now up and raised high. “Oh lord, how the hell was I going to get out of this truck?” my brain desperately demanded. The lascivious smile of the driver made me recoil and pull tighter into myself. This was not good. Not good at all. The girl in the back seemed to be doing an adequate job of keeping the second driver away from herself, but things were getting decidedly dangerous. It was dark out. We were literally miles from nowhere and our apparent saviours had turned into fiends that were attempting to extract their fare for passage in flesh.

Then the drivers switched places. And so did myself and my other hapless companion. Now she was in the front seat and I was on the bunk, but sleep was the farthest thing from my mind. I was young, white and vulnerable as a female traveler at the mercy of these strange men. As fingers began to crawl up my leg, I kicked and began to pray. My words felt hollow and useless in a foreign tongue, but I used them none the less.

“No!” I said. “Stop it!”

And yet they still kept coming. I kept insisting on being left alone, trying to make myself as small and inaccessible as possible. My brain found the image of God, and despite not having had much use for his omnipotent powers in the past, I now began to beg favours at a rapid pace. I beseeched his sense of fairness, good and integrity. My body was taut and tense with the strain of resistance and my willing of a positive energy to intervene. My tone became more strident, as I pleaded with higher powers to please release me from this state of strife. As one side of my brain grappled with images of worst case scenarios, I distinctly heard my mother warning me against talking to strangers and the bad things that could happen. “Please, please”, I begged. Let this not be the time when she would be right!

Gradually, my molester began to lose interest in the chase. Perhaps sleep got the better of him, or perhaps his soul realized that what he was attempting to do was the wrong thing. Whatever it was, that night my Guardian Angels earned their places in the Heavens for eternity. I wanted to cry, sob or scream, but my fight or flight response had me wired into a ball ready to attack if necessary. I occasionally felt a hand explore to see if perhaps I was asleep or had changed my mind, but a swift shove let him know that I was not up for a night of ‘fun’. Long after he turned over and curled up to go to sleep, I lay tightly in the corner of the bunk, my breath ragged in my chest. I no longer considered hitch-hiking to be the free and easy ride I once thought of it as. I somehow felt like I used up one of my lives that night. In the end, I never wanted it back. 

We came...

Did you hear that?

A little WooHoo from behind the camera?

That was either Ms C or me

As we jigged,
despite a stoic crowd

Might not be a hipster

But we’re still cool!

and that 160 characters does not come close to describing the fun that we had last night, on our evening out on the town. Love you babe! Thank you so much for inviting me along! Enjoy Monkey. Happy Sunday!

Saturday's Email of the Week: Not For the Faint of Heart

Saturday's Email of the Week

Ok, I am going to pick on a certain retail store today. See if you can guess what it is before you watch the video. While I have been known to shop there before, I can't help but pass along these gems. I am sure some of you have seen snippets of this, but I am feeling nasty and am going to share anyway. I am going to start with a picture (that just makes me want to pee myself, but also makes me kind of sad),

then I am going to jump to this video. This just makes me want to either wet myself or run screaming for the hills, never to shop there again (unless I pick up some hot pink spandex that is slashed enough to show off all of my 50 tattoos, hickeys and bruises collected on my trailer trash body - NOT!)

 

Did I warn you to put down your coffee cup this morning? Oops, sorry. Well, have a lovely weekend folks. I am road tripping again today. Off to the Big Smoke with a certain someone to take in some dinner, music and hopefully dancing. The best part is that it is minus kids! Woohoo!!!!! See ya!

Paint It Red

Have I ever mentioned
that my favourite colour is red?

Yup, it catches my eye enough
to always turn my head.















Whether it be
mushrooms bright upon a tree

Or a dragonfly's gaze
staring back at me












When I feel the wind whistling by
I know fairy brushes are hanging to dry
in the forest glen on this warm day
as they've been busy painting my world so gay

A Change in Plans

Mini Rock Hoppers

I realize that it is Monday. I should have jetted off to Africa to continue my saga. I have left you hanging, as I climbed up into the cab of another truck. What happened next? Well... I feel bad about it, but you are going to have to wait a little longer to see. It can't be helped. I spent almost four hours driving home from my sister's house (in what should have been a two-hour drive). I am still sluggish with tryptophan from the turkey, plus from chasing those four delightful kids you see up there around. So I am pooped and am going to bed.

I apologize, but thought perhaps I would share a video from a band that I am going to be going to see this coming weekend with Me. Haven't seen a concert in a while and I am stoked! So here is a little Iron & Wine for you to enjoy. I will have to get some writing done later, but right now its bedtime. Happy Thanksgiving Canada! Happy Columbus Day US!

Hello pillows. I hear you calling! I am on my way...

Saturday's Email of the Week: Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving!

Saturday's Email of the Week

Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends! I am sure you aren't surprised to learn that I am travelling this weekend because of it. The joys of having relatives spread all over the place. We are looking forward to a warm and sunny weekend  here(mid-20s in Celsius- not sure the translation for F, but thinking in the 80s). I have thrown off the shackles of work and am about to put on my walking shoes. The woods are calling! My sister and I are about to embark on an adventure with all the kids, collecting leaves, pine cones, acorns and more for a Thanksgiving centerpiece for dinner tomorrow. Therefore I have to fly, before I get yelled at!

I hope you all have a fabulous weekend and enjoy the fine weather. I leave you with a little humour to go out into your weekend with. Peace!

Sitting on the side of the highway waiting to catch speeding drivers, a  Police Officer sees a car puttering along at 22 KPH.

Says he to himself: "This driver is just as dangerous as a speeder!"         So he turns on his lights and pulls the driver over.
  Approaching the car, he notices that there are five old  ladies, two in the  front seat and three in the  back...wide eyed and white as ghosts.
 
The driver, obviously confused, says to him "Officer, I don't understand, I was doing exactly the speed limit! What seems to be the problem?"
 
"Ma'am," the officer replies, "you weren't speeding, but you should  know that  driving slower than the speed limit can also be a danger to other   drivers."
 
"Slower than the speed  limit? No sir, I was doing the speed limit  exactly...twenty-two kilometers an hour!"...the  old woman says a bit proudly. 
 
The Police officer, trying to contain a chuckle explains to her that 22 is the highway number, not the speed limit.
 
A bit embarrassed, the woman grins and thanks the officer for pointing out her error.
 
"But before I let you go, Ma'am, I have to ask...Is everyone in this car OK? These women seem awfully shaken, and they haven't made a peep this whole time," the officer asks.
 
"Oh, they'll be all right in a minute officer. We just got off Highway189."

55 Words for Giving Thanks

Turkey

Hunting for you

Gobble, gobble, gob-

ble -ble -ble

GULP!

Ah…

Can’t

wait for my

Thanksgiving feast

When I get to

Flip the bird

Again

Stuffing

Moist, delicious

Stuffing, stuffing, stuffing

To fill turkey full

Dressing

~

Sunshine

Autumn days

Walking, laughing, spinning

Children at merry play

Dancing, singing, living

Family round

Smiles

~Thanks~

***

Well G-Man,

you can tell what I have on the brain already

Thanksgiving this weekend!

and I have a hankering on for some 

TURKEY!

I shall be bringing 

STUFFING

(Yum)

PICKLES

(that's why I make them don't you know!)

and PIE

(with apples that we gathered on our recent trip to the orchard)

God, I'm hungry now.

 Maybe I will grab an apple while I wait.

Oh, my mixed bag of poetry 

(think I have a little free verse/shaped, cinquain & diamante in there) 

sums up to 55 words as well

in case you were wondering.

BOOK!!!!

What are you up to this weekend?

My "Fall" Garden

Can I just remark that it was a beautiful day in my neck of the woods today! The sun was shining bright and golden yellow in a cloudless sky, but that wasn't the only yellow thing to be found. Check out these hardy nasturtiums that just continue to blossom and thrive out in the yard. Beautiful, plus peppery good to eat, if you are so inclined. I love to look at them, but they are fun in a salad as well!

This here plant is also good in a salad, but a staple in the spaghetti pot as well. Anyone know what this pretty herb is called? While it has lost some of its pungency now that it is flowering, this hardy perenial is oregano! I started mine from a four inch pot and it is now competing with everything around it. If you need any, let me know! Divisions are always available!

Wow,

this colour surely lets you know what time of year it is.

The burning bush is starting to flame in the back yard,

so it's got to be Fall. 

I really do love its vibrant red though

Don't you?

While you might not recognize this prickly specimen as it sits now, you have all heard of this plant too. In fact, I think I like it just as much in this state as when it waves its pink blooms in the late summer. Does echinacea ring a bell? If you don't recognize this brown beauty by that name, you have probably heard of purple cone flowers. Should be called spiky cone flowers, I'd say!

And with the feathery wisps of grasses delicately brushing the Autumn sky, I fear that the changing of the seasons cannot be ignored. Summer is now a distant memory. Winter's warnings have been in the air on a crisp morning or two already. 

But today

I just had to get out 

and enjoy the last few precious days of sunshine

in my garden

with my poor sick kitty in tow

I soaked up some sunshine

before winter winds

erase any memory

of summer days

and the great warm

outdoors

Oh, surprise!

with all those tempting temperatures

not much writing gone done today either.

Oops!