Ok, here we go. We are down to the last week before our move and what a busy week it is going to be. Butterfly and The Boy will be here this weekend so not much computer time will be on the agenda and then next week we hit the ground running. Lawyer's appointments, visits to the bank, dinner with friends to say good bye, last minute cleaning and packing and of course a bike ride or two. So, I am signing off for now, but will talk to you again from my new house on the other side of the province in a couple of weeks.
Out of the strain of the doing into the peace of the done
Julia Woodruff
I am sooooooo looking forward to entering the peace of the done soon.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
The Black Hole - Part II
Ok, here it is finally…
…We managed to retrieve all the boxes and empty the attic without a major catastrophe yesterday and I was thanking my lucky stars that …history didn't repeat itself. Let me fill you in on the details.
Many years ago in agalaxy attic far far away…we encountered our first black hole in space.
When Butterfly was just a wee thing, we bought our first house, and though it was old and small, we thought it was a palace. It was what they called a story and a half. It had three small rooms on the main floor and three smaller bedrooms plus a bathroom upstairs. The walls in the bedrooms slanted along the roof lines, which gave us the same amount of floor space as the rooms below, but because of the sloping walls and low ceilings, the upstairs was only considered half a story. I thought the rooms were quite charming and cozy and really liked the look and feel of the slanted ceilings upstairs. I still have fond memories of that little house and look back on our years there as magical ones.
I had one girlfriend who came to visit and she said she always felt like she was in a doll house when she sat at my kitchen table, because everything seemed to be on such a small scale. The window sills were close to the floor, so that made us seem bigger and taller, and the half walls and sloping ceilings upstairs also gave us that same impression.
The house had one major problem, no closet space. We only had one small built in clothes closet and one tiny linen closet with half shelves in it. There was a small opening to the attic in the hallway upstairs right above the linen closet, but you had to get a ladder and wiggle and squirm through the small opening to access it, so I never even poked my head up there, but AC did. Because of lack of closet space we thought we would try to store stuff up there. Big mistake! Big, Big mistake!
AC got the ladder out one day and ventured into the spidery darkness. Butterfly and I watched him wiggle through the opening and then we went to put clothes away in her bedroom. We could hear AC moving around above us, but we didn't pay him much mind. We did look up though when we heard the sounds above us getting louder and louder as AC moved around and got closer and closer to where we were standing just below him. Before we knew it, we heard a very loud creaking and cracking sound and in the blink of an eye, disaster struck. Crash! Butterfly and I stood there with mouths agape and eyes wide as we peered through the plaster-dust cloud billowing around us. When the debris cleared a bit it was quite a shock to see what looked like daddy's legs hanging through the ceiling just above our heads. We were covered in plaster dust, bits and pieces of lath and what seemed like hundreds of years' worth of black sooty grime. Indeed they were daddy's legs flailing frantically out of the hole in the ceiling and as I was trying to compute what to do next I heard Butterfly's deep throaty laugh as she said. "Daddy's funny isn't he mommy?"
It seemed like an eternity to AC, but it only took me a couple of seconds to spring into action and run into the hall to get the ladder and rush back into the bedroom with it and put it under AC's feet. He was hanging on for dear life up in the rafters and couldn't get any purchase to climb back up into the attic. He was stuck but good because he couldn't get up or down.
Once he got something under his feet, he was able to get back up on the studs and exit the Black Hole through the opening in the hall. Butterfly and I waited at the bottom of the ladder for him and when he was safely on the ground we stood and looked at each other and started to laugh. We all looked like chimney sweeps with black sooty faces and white eyes peering out. AC was scratched and bruised, but no major harm was done. Butterfly and I had plaster in our hair and grime all over us, but we were fine too. No big pieces of the ceiling fell on either of us.
After we determined that everyone was ok and not seriously hurt, we set to the task of cleaning up the mess and then ourselves. We laughed and laughed and laughed as we did so though. It was just too funny. That night we sat down after supper to watch our favourite TV program at the time. I think it was called Emergency. It was a show about paramedics from the fire department rescuing people in strange situations. That night the main rescue was of a man who fell through a ceiling and got trapped there. The fire department had to come and rescue him. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing, and the whole show set us to laughing again and I still laugh about it now as I write this.
I wasn't laughing the other day though when AC ventured into the Black Hole in this house to balance on the studs and retrieve the kazillion boxes that had accumulated in the dark corners there. He was right above the living room area, and in my mind's eye, I could see his legs dangling through the ceiling in that other house. To put it mildly, I was a tad apprehensive about yet another foray into the dreaded Black Hole and a sudden unexpected exit on the other side of the universe. We only had two weeks to go until moving day; please God, don't let him fall through the ceiling!
All's well that ends well, and this adventure into that dark scary place did just that - ended well. Thank goodness.
Our new house has an attic space that can only be reached via a ladder in the upstairs hall, but don't worry, I have learned my lesson and I can assure you that we won't go anywhere near it. If you are wise, you will heed my advice and not venture into the Black Hole attic crawl space in your home either. I have heard that some people are sucked in and never return.
Actually we can learn a good life lesson from this. Never push anything back into those dark inaccessible corners of your world. They can cause you nothing but trouble later on. Keep things out in the open and let the light shine on them. Don't clutter up your inner space with old useless baggage and dusty old boxes of issues. If it is garbage get rid of it, if it is something good, share it or give it away. Keep your "corners" clutter free and enjoy the wonder of that state of being.
Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes this void.
Simone Weil
The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.
Eden Phillpots
Leave the Black Holes alone and uncluttered and go out and discover all the other magical things awaiting you in the universe. May the Force be with you.
…We managed to retrieve all the boxes and empty the attic without a major catastrophe yesterday and I was thanking my lucky stars that …history didn't repeat itself. Let me fill you in on the details.
Many years ago in a
When Butterfly was just a wee thing, we bought our first house, and though it was old and small, we thought it was a palace. It was what they called a story and a half. It had three small rooms on the main floor and three smaller bedrooms plus a bathroom upstairs. The walls in the bedrooms slanted along the roof lines, which gave us the same amount of floor space as the rooms below, but because of the sloping walls and low ceilings, the upstairs was only considered half a story. I thought the rooms were quite charming and cozy and really liked the look and feel of the slanted ceilings upstairs. I still have fond memories of that little house and look back on our years there as magical ones.
I had one girlfriend who came to visit and she said she always felt like she was in a doll house when she sat at my kitchen table, because everything seemed to be on such a small scale. The window sills were close to the floor, so that made us seem bigger and taller, and the half walls and sloping ceilings upstairs also gave us that same impression.
The house had one major problem, no closet space. We only had one small built in clothes closet and one tiny linen closet with half shelves in it. There was a small opening to the attic in the hallway upstairs right above the linen closet, but you had to get a ladder and wiggle and squirm through the small opening to access it, so I never even poked my head up there, but AC did. Because of lack of closet space we thought we would try to store stuff up there. Big mistake! Big, Big mistake!
AC got the ladder out one day and ventured into the spidery darkness. Butterfly and I watched him wiggle through the opening and then we went to put clothes away in her bedroom. We could hear AC moving around above us, but we didn't pay him much mind. We did look up though when we heard the sounds above us getting louder and louder as AC moved around and got closer and closer to where we were standing just below him. Before we knew it, we heard a very loud creaking and cracking sound and in the blink of an eye, disaster struck. Crash! Butterfly and I stood there with mouths agape and eyes wide as we peered through the plaster-dust cloud billowing around us. When the debris cleared a bit it was quite a shock to see what looked like daddy's legs hanging through the ceiling just above our heads. We were covered in plaster dust, bits and pieces of lath and what seemed like hundreds of years' worth of black sooty grime. Indeed they were daddy's legs flailing frantically out of the hole in the ceiling and as I was trying to compute what to do next I heard Butterfly's deep throaty laugh as she said. "Daddy's funny isn't he mommy?"
It seemed like an eternity to AC, but it only took me a couple of seconds to spring into action and run into the hall to get the ladder and rush back into the bedroom with it and put it under AC's feet. He was hanging on for dear life up in the rafters and couldn't get any purchase to climb back up into the attic. He was stuck but good because he couldn't get up or down.
Once he got something under his feet, he was able to get back up on the studs and exit the Black Hole through the opening in the hall. Butterfly and I waited at the bottom of the ladder for him and when he was safely on the ground we stood and looked at each other and started to laugh. We all looked like chimney sweeps with black sooty faces and white eyes peering out. AC was scratched and bruised, but no major harm was done. Butterfly and I had plaster in our hair and grime all over us, but we were fine too. No big pieces of the ceiling fell on either of us.
After we determined that everyone was ok and not seriously hurt, we set to the task of cleaning up the mess and then ourselves. We laughed and laughed and laughed as we did so though. It was just too funny. That night we sat down after supper to watch our favourite TV program at the time. I think it was called Emergency. It was a show about paramedics from the fire department rescuing people in strange situations. That night the main rescue was of a man who fell through a ceiling and got trapped there. The fire department had to come and rescue him. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing, and the whole show set us to laughing again and I still laugh about it now as I write this.
I wasn't laughing the other day though when AC ventured into the Black Hole in this house to balance on the studs and retrieve the kazillion boxes that had accumulated in the dark corners there. He was right above the living room area, and in my mind's eye, I could see his legs dangling through the ceiling in that other house. To put it mildly, I was a tad apprehensive about yet another foray into the dreaded Black Hole and a sudden unexpected exit on the other side of the universe. We only had two weeks to go until moving day; please God, don't let him fall through the ceiling!
All's well that ends well, and this adventure into that dark scary place did just that - ended well. Thank goodness.
Our new house has an attic space that can only be reached via a ladder in the upstairs hall, but don't worry, I have learned my lesson and I can assure you that we won't go anywhere near it. If you are wise, you will heed my advice and not venture into the Black Hole attic crawl space in your home either. I have heard that some people are sucked in and never return.
Actually we can learn a good life lesson from this. Never push anything back into those dark inaccessible corners of your world. They can cause you nothing but trouble later on. Keep things out in the open and let the light shine on them. Don't clutter up your inner space with old useless baggage and dusty old boxes of issues. If it is garbage get rid of it, if it is something good, share it or give it away. Keep your "corners" clutter free and enjoy the wonder of that state of being.
Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes this void.
Simone Weil
The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.
Eden Phillpots
Leave the Black Holes alone and uncluttered and go out and discover all the other magical things awaiting you in the universe. May the Force be with you.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Update
Things are moving into high gear here and I am operating in a state of cardboard high alert! I swing from feeling like I don't have enough boxes and pieces of packing paper one moment, to feeling like I have too many the next. One day I sail along secure in the knowledge that I am doing ok and will be ready for the movers no sweat, but the very next day I am sure I will never be ready on time.
I am still having trouble getting things to co-operate and get into boxes together. Why can't they all just get along and go peacefully and neatly into the boxes I picked for them? Oh no, they are a half inch too long or wide and insist on fitting where they don’t belong and then make that box too heavy, or do damage to other stuff in the box. I wonder if the Creator of the Universe feels like this some days and would like to yell at us and tell us to "just get along!"?
I have been trying to get back to my laptop to finish writing "The Black Hole Part II" but other things keep taking me away from my task. Just thought I would let you know I haven't forgotten about it, and hope to post it soon.
Must run now, the day dawned sunny and cool and the bike trails beckon. A nice ride in the sunshine should clear my head of the cardboard fumes and give me energy to continue on with my tasks.
Talk to you later.
I am still having trouble getting things to co-operate and get into boxes together. Why can't they all just get along and go peacefully and neatly into the boxes I picked for them? Oh no, they are a half inch too long or wide and insist on fitting where they don’t belong and then make that box too heavy, or do damage to other stuff in the box. I wonder if the Creator of the Universe feels like this some days and would like to yell at us and tell us to "just get along!"?
I have been trying to get back to my laptop to finish writing "The Black Hole Part II" but other things keep taking me away from my task. Just thought I would let you know I haven't forgotten about it, and hope to post it soon.
Must run now, the day dawned sunny and cool and the bike trails beckon. A nice ride in the sunshine should clear my head of the cardboard fumes and give me energy to continue on with my tasks.
Talk to you later.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
The Black Hole
We avoided a near catastrophe yesterday and while we were in the middle of remedying the situation I had flash backs to another time and place when the outcome was a whole lot different.
Seeing as we were ahead of schedule with our packing, AC and I took a few days off and enjoyed reading, writing, visiting family, and other normal things like that for the past week. What a nice change it has been, but we must get back to work soon, so I sat down with my lists yesterday and made a plan of what to do when, next week. We can put off our return to work until Monday, but then we have to put our noses to the grindstone again. Two more weeks, just two short weeks and we will be on our way to the other side of the province. Yikes!
We puttered around the house for most of the morning yesterday and then went out for lunch. We thought we might go for a bike ride after lunch, but the air was hot and humid and it felt like a storm was brewing so we retreated into our cool air conditioned house to relax and watch a movie. Absolute decadence I know.
After the movie AC went out to return it to the library and I went upstairs to gather the washing to do later in the evening. I walked into the bathroom and as I took the towels down off the bars I caught sight of the door to the crawl space/attic behind them. Oh no, we haven't checked the dreaded crawl space attic. It is a hot, dusty, dark, and cramped space and I had put it right out of my mind. As I stood there staring at the small door, I vaguely remembered putting some old Christmas decorations in there years ago, but I am sure we got rid of them. Didn't we?
I opened the door and removed the protective panel behind it. A dusty blast of heat reached out and slapped me in the face. Thwap! Once I regained my composer I took a deep breath, aimed the flashlight into the dark hole and peered in. My heart sank. It was full of boxes. How could this be? When had I put all this stuff up here? I slowly moved the flashlight from one dark mound to the other and saw TV boxes, stereo boxes, VCR boxes, and Computer boxes. I then remembered that we had stored these EMPTY boxes up here just in case something had to go back to the store. They were only supposed to be kept up here for a month or two, but over the years, we just kept adding more and would forget about them. Oh dear.
There is no floor in the crawl space, only insulation between the studs, and you can't stand up in this space. Right by the door is a piece of plywood 4'X4' that we can crawl onto to access the deeper parts of the attic, but to reach the furthest corners you have to balance on hands and knees on the studs. Not an easy job at all. It is hot, dark and dusty in that most awful place.
I gingerly crawled through the door and balanced on hands and knees on the plywood. Oh, I didn't like it in there at all. I was sure spiders were perched just above my head ready to dance in my hair, and who knows what else was lurking in the dark corners ready to attack me. I tried not to look beyond the beam of the flashlight, and reached to grab the first box. Oh good, it was empty. Very dusty, but empty. I was right, these were just empty boxes. WRONG! The first few were empty, and I moved them towards the door, but then I came to one that was heavy. Oh no, what the heck was in it? I couldn't move it, so I had to retreat into the bathroom and wait for AC to return from the library to help me. I moved the three empty boxes I retrieved to the side door and AC found them on his way in. He had a rather puzzled look on his face when he saw them, and then me covered in dust and bits and pieces of insulation.
"The Attic" I said and saw his face register the shock I felt too. "We forgot about the attic and it is full of stuff." Groan!
We trudged gloomily up the stairs to face the Black Hole together. If we worked as a team it would be easier. I offered to go back into the cramped space but I knew I couldn’t move that one heavy box, so AC crawled in while I stood just outside the door to hold the flashlight for him and move the lighter boxes out as he passed them to me. Three boxes were full of books and old teaching notes, two boxes were full of old Christmas decorations, and one had an old lamp in it, but the rest were empty. Thank goodness. The heavy boxes rested on the studs close to the door, but the lighter empty boxes had travelled far and wide indeed. The hardest part of the whole procedure was trying to reach these empty boxes. As each one was put through the small opening over the years, it would push the others further and further back into the corners of the Black Hole. They were empty and therefore light enough to push without even noticing it. Retrieving them from their far flung corners was a whole other story. Whilst balancing on hands and knees. AC had to crawl along the studs, keep his balance, grab the big unruly box and move it behind him and then crawl backwards in the dark keeping hands and knees balanced on the narrow pieces of wood. I don't know about him, but I was a nervous wreck. You see, years ago we had an encounter with an attic in a previous house, and it makes us laugh now, but oh the trauma then.
As AC was crawling around in the attic yesterday, with only two weeks to go until moving day, my mind kept going back to what happened before and I was having fits. Don't go there I kept telling myself, but go there I did and it wasn't pretty!
We managed to retrieve all the boxes and empty the attic without a major catastrophe yesterday and I was thanking my lucky stars that …
This post is getting rather long, so I will end it here and fill you in on our first attic adventure in The Black Hole Part II. Stay tuned.
Seeing as we were ahead of schedule with our packing, AC and I took a few days off and enjoyed reading, writing, visiting family, and other normal things like that for the past week. What a nice change it has been, but we must get back to work soon, so I sat down with my lists yesterday and made a plan of what to do when, next week. We can put off our return to work until Monday, but then we have to put our noses to the grindstone again. Two more weeks, just two short weeks and we will be on our way to the other side of the province. Yikes!
We puttered around the house for most of the morning yesterday and then went out for lunch. We thought we might go for a bike ride after lunch, but the air was hot and humid and it felt like a storm was brewing so we retreated into our cool air conditioned house to relax and watch a movie. Absolute decadence I know.
After the movie AC went out to return it to the library and I went upstairs to gather the washing to do later in the evening. I walked into the bathroom and as I took the towels down off the bars I caught sight of the door to the crawl space/attic behind them. Oh no, we haven't checked the dreaded crawl space attic. It is a hot, dusty, dark, and cramped space and I had put it right out of my mind. As I stood there staring at the small door, I vaguely remembered putting some old Christmas decorations in there years ago, but I am sure we got rid of them. Didn't we?
I opened the door and removed the protective panel behind it. A dusty blast of heat reached out and slapped me in the face. Thwap! Once I regained my composer I took a deep breath, aimed the flashlight into the dark hole and peered in. My heart sank. It was full of boxes. How could this be? When had I put all this stuff up here? I slowly moved the flashlight from one dark mound to the other and saw TV boxes, stereo boxes, VCR boxes, and Computer boxes. I then remembered that we had stored these EMPTY boxes up here just in case something had to go back to the store. They were only supposed to be kept up here for a month or two, but over the years, we just kept adding more and would forget about them. Oh dear.
There is no floor in the crawl space, only insulation between the studs, and you can't stand up in this space. Right by the door is a piece of plywood 4'X4' that we can crawl onto to access the deeper parts of the attic, but to reach the furthest corners you have to balance on hands and knees on the studs. Not an easy job at all. It is hot, dark and dusty in that most awful place.
I gingerly crawled through the door and balanced on hands and knees on the plywood. Oh, I didn't like it in there at all. I was sure spiders were perched just above my head ready to dance in my hair, and who knows what else was lurking in the dark corners ready to attack me. I tried not to look beyond the beam of the flashlight, and reached to grab the first box. Oh good, it was empty. Very dusty, but empty. I was right, these were just empty boxes. WRONG! The first few were empty, and I moved them towards the door, but then I came to one that was heavy. Oh no, what the heck was in it? I couldn't move it, so I had to retreat into the bathroom and wait for AC to return from the library to help me. I moved the three empty boxes I retrieved to the side door and AC found them on his way in. He had a rather puzzled look on his face when he saw them, and then me covered in dust and bits and pieces of insulation.
"The Attic" I said and saw his face register the shock I felt too. "We forgot about the attic and it is full of stuff." Groan!
We trudged gloomily up the stairs to face the Black Hole together. If we worked as a team it would be easier. I offered to go back into the cramped space but I knew I couldn’t move that one heavy box, so AC crawled in while I stood just outside the door to hold the flashlight for him and move the lighter boxes out as he passed them to me. Three boxes were full of books and old teaching notes, two boxes were full of old Christmas decorations, and one had an old lamp in it, but the rest were empty. Thank goodness. The heavy boxes rested on the studs close to the door, but the lighter empty boxes had travelled far and wide indeed. The hardest part of the whole procedure was trying to reach these empty boxes. As each one was put through the small opening over the years, it would push the others further and further back into the corners of the Black Hole. They were empty and therefore light enough to push without even noticing it. Retrieving them from their far flung corners was a whole other story. Whilst balancing on hands and knees. AC had to crawl along the studs, keep his balance, grab the big unruly box and move it behind him and then crawl backwards in the dark keeping hands and knees balanced on the narrow pieces of wood. I don't know about him, but I was a nervous wreck. You see, years ago we had an encounter with an attic in a previous house, and it makes us laugh now, but oh the trauma then.
As AC was crawling around in the attic yesterday, with only two weeks to go until moving day, my mind kept going back to what happened before and I was having fits. Don't go there I kept telling myself, but go there I did and it wasn't pretty!
We managed to retrieve all the boxes and empty the attic without a major catastrophe yesterday and I was thanking my lucky stars that …
This post is getting rather long, so I will end it here and fill you in on our first attic adventure in The Black Hole Part II. Stay tuned.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Rrrrrrriiiiipppppppp!
Over the years I have had houseplants that have become pot bound and needed to be transplanted. Huge Boston ferns, Dieffenbachia, and Ivy, are three of the more memorable ones I have had to deal with. The fern was the worst, I must say.
It would always take me time to work up to the transplantation task because I didn't like to do it. It made a mess, the plant was hard to handle and I was never quite sure if I was doing it right. It had to be done though, so I would make a plan and set to work.
First, I would go searching for the right size pot, and buy the prettiest one I could afford. The next purchase would be a bag of new soil and plant food. I then had to find - some free time, a work area where I could make a mess and not harm anything, and last but not least, some energy or the will to start the job and just get at it! Once all my "ducks were in a row" I would set to the task and be oh so glad when it was all done.
The plants thrived and looked great in the long run, but oh the trauma and the wilt of the transplantation process. Roots would be ripped and torn as the plant was loosen and removed from the old pot; soil was scattered and lost when the plant was tipped over and tapped on the bottom or shaken vigorously to get it out of the old pot; and last but not least, dead and dying leaves were strewn around when they were cut away or broken off in the rigors of the move. Sometimes I would have to be ruthless and rip and tear the root ball apart when the plant needed to be thinned out before replanting. Not fun, but necessary.
New spots on sunny window sills were found for all the new pots, but the plants would look out of place and a bit lost in their big new pots at first. They were completely traumatized by the process and would droop terribly, not even lifting their heads to respond to their old friend the sunshine. I could almost hear them stomping their tiny little root feet while they pouted and said "I don't like it here. I hurt from all the ripping and tearing and I miss the parts you took away. "
That picture comes back to me clearly this morning as I sit here gazing at the riotous summer garden just outside the window beside the chair where I sit and write each day. It is an absolutely beautiful garden this year, just chock full of exuberant colour. It is almost as if it knows that this will be our last summer to enjoy its beauty, so it is sending us off with a blaze of glory as moving day fast approaches. I will miss the beauty of this garden.
Each and every day this summer I have been pulling up roots that have grown very deep in this familiar old "Pot" of mine, and I am feeling a bit traumatized by all the ripping and tearing. I know that I am pot bound here, and it is time for a move, but I have become so accustomed to this place. It is familiar and comfortable here in this old pot, and it just plain hurts to rip up roots and move.
I know, I know. I am bumping up against the edges of this pot, and my soil is old and needs some added nutrients, but is hard to leave the well known environment and move into the unknown. It would be so much easier to stay in this old pot in spite of the tangled and cramped conditions and depleted soil.
The new "pot" and "fresh soil" will do me a world of good, but oh the trauma and "wilt" of the transplantation process. Thirty-year-old roots grow very deep and won't let go easily. Some will break off and bits and pieces of them will remain in the old soil forever. I will grieve each small piece, but must look forward to the fresh growth that will take place in my "new pot".
We searched a long time for this new pot and bought the prettiest one we could afford. We have new soil to mix with the old (friends and family) and plant food (books and biking) to help us adjust to the move. I know that I will have to choose to lift my head to the sun in my new location and respond to the warmth there and the goodness in the new soil instead of drooping or moping around. First I must give myself time to adjust and relax so I can recover from the upheaval of the move and then I can start sending out new roots into the rich earth in the new location. I will have lots of room to grow, and will have many opportunities to meet new people, learn new things and see new sights.
So, the newspapers are all spread around in my workspace and I am just about to be turned on my head and knocked out of the old pot. The edges are all loosened and I am ready to go. Tap, tap, tap, shake, shake, shake - my new pot awaits.
There is no such thing as the pursuit of happiness, but there is the discovery of joy.
Joyce Grenfell
Here's to discovering joy in each new pot on any sunny window sill in life.
It would always take me time to work up to the transplantation task because I didn't like to do it. It made a mess, the plant was hard to handle and I was never quite sure if I was doing it right. It had to be done though, so I would make a plan and set to work.
First, I would go searching for the right size pot, and buy the prettiest one I could afford. The next purchase would be a bag of new soil and plant food. I then had to find - some free time, a work area where I could make a mess and not harm anything, and last but not least, some energy or the will to start the job and just get at it! Once all my "ducks were in a row" I would set to the task and be oh so glad when it was all done.
The plants thrived and looked great in the long run, but oh the trauma and the wilt of the transplantation process. Roots would be ripped and torn as the plant was loosen and removed from the old pot; soil was scattered and lost when the plant was tipped over and tapped on the bottom or shaken vigorously to get it out of the old pot; and last but not least, dead and dying leaves were strewn around when they were cut away or broken off in the rigors of the move. Sometimes I would have to be ruthless and rip and tear the root ball apart when the plant needed to be thinned out before replanting. Not fun, but necessary.
New spots on sunny window sills were found for all the new pots, but the plants would look out of place and a bit lost in their big new pots at first. They were completely traumatized by the process and would droop terribly, not even lifting their heads to respond to their old friend the sunshine. I could almost hear them stomping their tiny little root feet while they pouted and said "I don't like it here. I hurt from all the ripping and tearing and I miss the parts you took away. "
That picture comes back to me clearly this morning as I sit here gazing at the riotous summer garden just outside the window beside the chair where I sit and write each day. It is an absolutely beautiful garden this year, just chock full of exuberant colour. It is almost as if it knows that this will be our last summer to enjoy its beauty, so it is sending us off with a blaze of glory as moving day fast approaches. I will miss the beauty of this garden.
Each and every day this summer I have been pulling up roots that have grown very deep in this familiar old "Pot" of mine, and I am feeling a bit traumatized by all the ripping and tearing. I know that I am pot bound here, and it is time for a move, but I have become so accustomed to this place. It is familiar and comfortable here in this old pot, and it just plain hurts to rip up roots and move.
I know, I know. I am bumping up against the edges of this pot, and my soil is old and needs some added nutrients, but is hard to leave the well known environment and move into the unknown. It would be so much easier to stay in this old pot in spite of the tangled and cramped conditions and depleted soil.
The new "pot" and "fresh soil" will do me a world of good, but oh the trauma and "wilt" of the transplantation process. Thirty-year-old roots grow very deep and won't let go easily. Some will break off and bits and pieces of them will remain in the old soil forever. I will grieve each small piece, but must look forward to the fresh growth that will take place in my "new pot".
We searched a long time for this new pot and bought the prettiest one we could afford. We have new soil to mix with the old (friends and family) and plant food (books and biking) to help us adjust to the move. I know that I will have to choose to lift my head to the sun in my new location and respond to the warmth there and the goodness in the new soil instead of drooping or moping around. First I must give myself time to adjust and relax so I can recover from the upheaval of the move and then I can start sending out new roots into the rich earth in the new location. I will have lots of room to grow, and will have many opportunities to meet new people, learn new things and see new sights.
So, the newspapers are all spread around in my workspace and I am just about to be turned on my head and knocked out of the old pot. The edges are all loosened and I am ready to go. Tap, tap, tap, shake, shake, shake - my new pot awaits.
There is no such thing as the pursuit of happiness, but there is the discovery of joy.
Joyce Grenfell
Here's to discovering joy in each new pot on any sunny window sill in life.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Melted Chocolate
We made a trip to the big city on Friday to get the last load of boxes and packing paper we need for the move. Yahoo, I am almost there. The living room, dining room, guest room, studio, den, basement, garden sheds and family room are all packed and ready to go. The kitchen will be next, and then all I will have to deal with will be last minute items in bedroom and bathroom just before we leave. I can't do most of that stuff until the last week, so now I can relax a bit and catch my breath for a few days before the final push of moving day.
Tomorrow my sister comes to visit for a couple of days, and then at the end of the week I have a date to meet friends for lunch to say good bye, so things will be busy, but not with packing. Ah, what a nice change that will be.
After we loaded up the CRV with paper and boxes on Friday, we treated ourselves to a trip to Chapters and that is always fun for me. It is one of my favourite spots to spend an hour or two and on this day I needed "the fix" of a nice long visit to a bookstore. The cardboard and cobwebs were getting to me and I was a bit ahead of schedule in that department, so I could afford this luxury. The first step inside the door at Chapters is the best isn't it? The smell of coffee is thick in the air and when it mixes with the fragrance of ink and paper it is a combination that can't be beat. AC laughs at me, but I always stop just inside the door and inhale deeply and almost chew on that most marvellous aroma.
After my sensory delight at the door, I headed straight for the bargain books and leisurely browsed through them while AC headed over to the computer section. I saw one book titled "The Browser's Ecstasy – A Meditation on Reading". Hmmm, that looks interesting I said to myself, so I picked it up. It had been $35 and was now on sale for 99¢. You just know that I tucked that book under my arm and took it with me for a closer look.
From the bargain section I headed over the poetry shelves to look for a book Lynn mentioned to me. It wasn't in stock, but I did find another treasure waiting for me there. A new Mary Oliver book! Oh joy, just what I needed. Really! All my poetry books were already packed, (big mistake) and I felt like I was going into withdrawal. Lynn posted a couple of short poems on his blog and they were like a drop of water on my tongue, but I needed a long deep drink not just a drop or two of poetry. I was contemplating finding the box I had packed my books in and digging them out again.
So you see why I was so excited to find a NEW Mary Oliver book. I didn't even look at the price, I just knew that it was coming home with me, and it did! The 99¢ book also made the trip to the cash desk with me and will enjoy a cozy spot in my new library.
I sat reading the Mary Oliver book last night and it felt to my spirit like melted chocolate feels in my mouth. Absolutely delicious! AC walked past me as I sat all curled up on the couch and said "Are you into your new book already?"
"Oh yes" I said "I feel like I just got a box of luscious dark chocolates and I can't stop eating them. Mmmmmm good."
I am not gobbling the book though. I am savouring each phrase, and letting the words sit in my mind and slowly melt and seep into the deeper parts of me. After all the dusty dry cardboard that has been clogging my senses for the past two months, the taste of this rich melted chocolate is magnificent.
Here, sample a little piece for yourself.
The Morning Walk
There are a lot of words meaning thanks.
Some you can only whisper.
Others you can only sing.
The pewee whistles instead.
The snake turns in circles,
The beaver claps his tail
on the surface of the pond.
The deer in the pinewood stamps his hoof.
Goldfinches shine as they float through the air.
A person, sometimes will hum a little Mahler.
Or put arms around old oak tree.
Or take out lovely pencil and notebook to find a few
touching, kissing words.
"Plain as a needle, a poem may be, or opulent as the shell of the channeled whelk, or the face of the lily, it matters not; it is a ceremony of words, a story, a prayer, an invitation, a flow of words that reaches out and, hopefully, without being real in the way that the least incident is real, is able to stir in the reader a real response."
'…for poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
Mary Oliver
Tomorrow my sister comes to visit for a couple of days, and then at the end of the week I have a date to meet friends for lunch to say good bye, so things will be busy, but not with packing. Ah, what a nice change that will be.
After we loaded up the CRV with paper and boxes on Friday, we treated ourselves to a trip to Chapters and that is always fun for me. It is one of my favourite spots to spend an hour or two and on this day I needed "the fix" of a nice long visit to a bookstore. The cardboard and cobwebs were getting to me and I was a bit ahead of schedule in that department, so I could afford this luxury. The first step inside the door at Chapters is the best isn't it? The smell of coffee is thick in the air and when it mixes with the fragrance of ink and paper it is a combination that can't be beat. AC laughs at me, but I always stop just inside the door and inhale deeply and almost chew on that most marvellous aroma.
After my sensory delight at the door, I headed straight for the bargain books and leisurely browsed through them while AC headed over to the computer section. I saw one book titled "The Browser's Ecstasy – A Meditation on Reading". Hmmm, that looks interesting I said to myself, so I picked it up. It had been $35 and was now on sale for 99¢. You just know that I tucked that book under my arm and took it with me for a closer look.
From the bargain section I headed over the poetry shelves to look for a book Lynn mentioned to me. It wasn't in stock, but I did find another treasure waiting for me there. A new Mary Oliver book! Oh joy, just what I needed. Really! All my poetry books were already packed, (big mistake) and I felt like I was going into withdrawal. Lynn posted a couple of short poems on his blog and they were like a drop of water on my tongue, but I needed a long deep drink not just a drop or two of poetry. I was contemplating finding the box I had packed my books in and digging them out again.
So you see why I was so excited to find a NEW Mary Oliver book. I didn't even look at the price, I just knew that it was coming home with me, and it did! The 99¢ book also made the trip to the cash desk with me and will enjoy a cozy spot in my new library.
I sat reading the Mary Oliver book last night and it felt to my spirit like melted chocolate feels in my mouth. Absolutely delicious! AC walked past me as I sat all curled up on the couch and said "Are you into your new book already?"
"Oh yes" I said "I feel like I just got a box of luscious dark chocolates and I can't stop eating them. Mmmmmm good."
I am not gobbling the book though. I am savouring each phrase, and letting the words sit in my mind and slowly melt and seep into the deeper parts of me. After all the dusty dry cardboard that has been clogging my senses for the past two months, the taste of this rich melted chocolate is magnificent.
Here, sample a little piece for yourself.
The Morning Walk
There are a lot of words meaning thanks.
Some you can only whisper.
Others you can only sing.
The pewee whistles instead.
The snake turns in circles,
The beaver claps his tail
on the surface of the pond.
The deer in the pinewood stamps his hoof.
Goldfinches shine as they float through the air.
A person, sometimes will hum a little Mahler.
Or put arms around old oak tree.
Or take out lovely pencil and notebook to find a few
touching, kissing words.
"Plain as a needle, a poem may be, or opulent as the shell of the channeled whelk, or the face of the lily, it matters not; it is a ceremony of words, a story, a prayer, an invitation, a flow of words that reaches out and, hopefully, without being real in the way that the least incident is real, is able to stir in the reader a real response."
'…for poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
Mary Oliver
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Unwelcome visitor
Some people can be so rude and pushy can't they? I have had an unwelcome but well known visitor barge his way into my life this past month or so, and I am having a real struggle with him.
He has knocked at my door and woken me up as early as 4am on a few occasions and makes a terrible racket some nights when I am trying to get to sleep. The nerve of some people! I have told this guy, quite clearly, how much his visits bother me and that I don't want him showing his face around here anymore, but somehow the message isn't getting through to him. Thick, thick head he has. Thank goodness my battle with this guy in the early morning hours or late at night, isn't waking AC up, but I am sure he is wondering what is going on when I roll out of bed at 6am some mornings.
I had a terrible fight with this bloke the day after we put the unconditional offer in on the new house and it was accepted. He woke me up early that day and knocked me right off my feet. I hadn't seen him for awhile and wasn't expecting him to visit me at Butterfly's house, but he barged right in like he owned the place and gave me a run for my money.
He got right in my face and yelled, "What in the world have you done? You just bought a house and you haven't even listed, let alone sold, your old house yet. The old kitchen is still in the middle of renovations so it sure isn't ready to show to any prospective buyers, and won't be anytime soon. The garden is a month overgrown and will take forever to whip into shape. AC can hardly walk so isn't in any condition to garden or even drive home. What in the world have you done? Stop this nonsense right now and run for you life!"
I listened to him rant and rave and he made me feel sick to my stomach. I walked away from him on shaky legs and went over to AC. I cried as I told him all the mean things this guy was saying to me and how frightened I was. AC and I sat and talked for a long time, and he told me we would fight this guy together and put him in his place. That made me feel so much better, but I could still hear faint echoes of the bully's voice ringing in my ear, and it made me shake in my boots on and off during the day. Goodness what a battle I had on my hands. With AC's help, I finally managed to send this guy packing and was glad to see him shuffling off into the distance as we loaded up the car to head for home and all the challenges that awaited us there.
Little did I know that as soon as we drove around the corner, the bully turned around and followed us all the way home. I had a major knock down drag out with him again shortly after we arrived at our doorstep. AC's back was sore and he could hardly move, the gardens were a mess with weeds growing almost as tall as us. The kitchen needed major cleaning and tidying from all the work that had gone on while we were away (new counter tops and sink were installed), the rest of the house had a month's worth of dust all over everything, we were both tired from our trip, and it was hot as blazes.
Needless to say I was not in my best fighting form and this guy took full advantage of that fact. He moved in for the kill and just about got me. I looked around at all the work I had to do to get the house ready to list with the real estate agent and then took a measure of the little bit of energy I had after our long trip, and I just wanted to turn around and run away. I stood in the middle of my plaster-dust-coated kitchen, and wondered where in the world to start. I couldn't just stand there and be run over by this bully, and I couldn't turn and run either, so I picked up a weapon or two, stood my ground and then went on the offensive. I didn't move ahead much, but I did stand my ground and eventually even gained some.
I couldn't look at the whole picture because it overwhelmed me, and this bully knew that and kept throwing it at me. I had to work at it, but I finally managed to take my eyes off of him and the whole task at hand. I narrowed my focus and just looked at what was literally right at my feet. I started where I was and did one small thing at a time. I picked up a rag and some cleaner and started washing the kitchen floor to get rid of the plaster dust there, to stop it from being tracked all through the rest of the house. My weary tears mixed with the plaster dust, but before I went to bed that night, the plaster dust was at least off the kitchen floor. The cupboards would be tackled in the morning.
That is a key isn't it? When your world comes crashing down around you and you are overwhelmed at the size of the pile of rubble strewn in your path, don't just stand there sifting through the rubble aimlessly, feeling afraid or overwhelmed or sorry for yourself. Pick up a brick from the crumbled wall in your life and start building -- one small brick at a time. Move it from where it is to where you want it to be, and eventually you have order and a whole new structure for your life is taking shape. One small step at a time.
I am covered in bruises from encounters with this unwelcome visitor who keeps showing up at my door, but I also have calluses on my hands from picking up and moving the bricks that he has scattered around. I am thrilled at the new wall in my life that is growing taller and more beautiful with each passing day. When I look at it I am filled with new strength to fight this unwelcome visitor called FEAR.
When this bully shows up at your door and tries to paralyse you and keep you from new frontiers in your life. Don't turn and run. Stand your ground and then in the middle of your muddle of doubts and questions and fears, pick up a brick and start building your new life. Oh the joys of facing the bully and getting past him.
The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.
Eleanor Roosevelt
He has knocked at my door and woken me up as early as 4am on a few occasions and makes a terrible racket some nights when I am trying to get to sleep. The nerve of some people! I have told this guy, quite clearly, how much his visits bother me and that I don't want him showing his face around here anymore, but somehow the message isn't getting through to him. Thick, thick head he has. Thank goodness my battle with this guy in the early morning hours or late at night, isn't waking AC up, but I am sure he is wondering what is going on when I roll out of bed at 6am some mornings.
I had a terrible fight with this bloke the day after we put the unconditional offer in on the new house and it was accepted. He woke me up early that day and knocked me right off my feet. I hadn't seen him for awhile and wasn't expecting him to visit me at Butterfly's house, but he barged right in like he owned the place and gave me a run for my money.
He got right in my face and yelled, "What in the world have you done? You just bought a house and you haven't even listed, let alone sold, your old house yet. The old kitchen is still in the middle of renovations so it sure isn't ready to show to any prospective buyers, and won't be anytime soon. The garden is a month overgrown and will take forever to whip into shape. AC can hardly walk so isn't in any condition to garden or even drive home. What in the world have you done? Stop this nonsense right now and run for you life!"
I listened to him rant and rave and he made me feel sick to my stomach. I walked away from him on shaky legs and went over to AC. I cried as I told him all the mean things this guy was saying to me and how frightened I was. AC and I sat and talked for a long time, and he told me we would fight this guy together and put him in his place. That made me feel so much better, but I could still hear faint echoes of the bully's voice ringing in my ear, and it made me shake in my boots on and off during the day. Goodness what a battle I had on my hands. With AC's help, I finally managed to send this guy packing and was glad to see him shuffling off into the distance as we loaded up the car to head for home and all the challenges that awaited us there.
Little did I know that as soon as we drove around the corner, the bully turned around and followed us all the way home. I had a major knock down drag out with him again shortly after we arrived at our doorstep. AC's back was sore and he could hardly move, the gardens were a mess with weeds growing almost as tall as us. The kitchen needed major cleaning and tidying from all the work that had gone on while we were away (new counter tops and sink were installed), the rest of the house had a month's worth of dust all over everything, we were both tired from our trip, and it was hot as blazes.
Needless to say I was not in my best fighting form and this guy took full advantage of that fact. He moved in for the kill and just about got me. I looked around at all the work I had to do to get the house ready to list with the real estate agent and then took a measure of the little bit of energy I had after our long trip, and I just wanted to turn around and run away. I stood in the middle of my plaster-dust-coated kitchen, and wondered where in the world to start. I couldn't just stand there and be run over by this bully, and I couldn't turn and run either, so I picked up a weapon or two, stood my ground and then went on the offensive. I didn't move ahead much, but I did stand my ground and eventually even gained some.
I couldn't look at the whole picture because it overwhelmed me, and this bully knew that and kept throwing it at me. I had to work at it, but I finally managed to take my eyes off of him and the whole task at hand. I narrowed my focus and just looked at what was literally right at my feet. I started where I was and did one small thing at a time. I picked up a rag and some cleaner and started washing the kitchen floor to get rid of the plaster dust there, to stop it from being tracked all through the rest of the house. My weary tears mixed with the plaster dust, but before I went to bed that night, the plaster dust was at least off the kitchen floor. The cupboards would be tackled in the morning.
That is a key isn't it? When your world comes crashing down around you and you are overwhelmed at the size of the pile of rubble strewn in your path, don't just stand there sifting through the rubble aimlessly, feeling afraid or overwhelmed or sorry for yourself. Pick up a brick from the crumbled wall in your life and start building -- one small brick at a time. Move it from where it is to where you want it to be, and eventually you have order and a whole new structure for your life is taking shape. One small step at a time.
I am covered in bruises from encounters with this unwelcome visitor who keeps showing up at my door, but I also have calluses on my hands from picking up and moving the bricks that he has scattered around. I am thrilled at the new wall in my life that is growing taller and more beautiful with each passing day. When I look at it I am filled with new strength to fight this unwelcome visitor called FEAR.
When this bully shows up at your door and tries to paralyse you and keep you from new frontiers in your life. Don't turn and run. Stand your ground and then in the middle of your muddle of doubts and questions and fears, pick up a brick and start building your new life. Oh the joys of facing the bully and getting past him.
The purpose of life, after all, is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.
Eleanor Roosevelt
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Cat- astrophe
I was reading Karla's blog about her cat running through the tray of wet paint, and that reminded me of the snowy morning we had a cat-astrophe at our house and I knew I just had to make some time to tell you this snowy story on this hot humid summer day.
When AC was teaching, it was a real joy to roll over on a tired winter morning and hear the radio announcer give us the news that a terrible snow storm had hit the city, the school buses were cancelled and schools were closed for the day. Oh the sheer joy of a snow day at our house. A gift of unexpected free time dropped into our laps during a busy school term was delicious indeed. The sheer luxury of snuggling down deeper under the covers instead of trudging outside into the cold snowy morning was rich beyond words.
On this particular morning the reports were of a storm so terrible we just had to get up and look out the window to see what was going on. Yessirree, we were socked in but good, and the snow was still coming down thick and steady. How neat. I love a good storm. Once out of bed, we decided to stay up and head down to the family room and watch the storm for awhile. We turned the fireplace on in the family room to make that area all toasty warm while I made a big pot of coffee, and some hot buttered bagels. It was still rather dark outside, but rather than turn the lights on in the family room I lit a candle on the coffee table and thought that it and the glow from the fire would give us just enough light to sit comfortably and munch our breakfast while we watched the storm. MMMM, now this was the way to spend a snowy morning.
Just as we reclined back into our Lazyboy chairs with our hot coffee and bagels, Scutter, our long haired Persian cat (note how long and fluffy his tail is in this picture of him in the garden) came out of the den and looked at us in a puzzled way. He seemed to be asking us what the heck we were doing, sitting in the family room at this hour on a school day of all days. Didn't we know that he was trying to sleep and we were disturbing him? We ignored him and chatted on about how much fun it was to start the morning like this and how great retirement the next year would be.
Just at that point, Scutter jumped up on the coffee table and…..yes….. walked past the candle I had lit earlier. His tail brushed past the flame and he went up like dry tinder. Puff, and his tail was in flames. Holy kittens Batman, the pussy cat's on fire!!!!!! His hair was so long, he didn't know he was on fire though, so he just sat there looking at us. Yikes! As AC and I both lunged for him, our quick movements startled him and he turned to run. We grabbed him just as he was about to jump off the table and hightail it (or maybe I should say "firetail" it) outta there. Can you even imagine the damage a flaming cat running through the house could cause?
Luckily, we caught him in the nick of time and thumped him and bumped him and thwaped him to put his flaming tail out. He looked at us in astonishment as we beat on him and wondered what the heck he had done to deserve such treatment. It seemed to take forever to reach him, but in reality it all happened in a matter of seconds, and we managed to "put him out" before the flames reached his skin. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "Did you put the cat out?" doesn't it? Anyway, he was pretty bedraggled and singed looking, but no major harm was done to him or the house, thank goodness. It could have been much worse. Oh, so much worse. Can you even imagine it? I shudder to think of it.
We laugh about it now, but that morning it was a tad scary. Here we were reclining back in our chairs with hot coffee in our hands and we had to get rid of the coffee, get out of the chairs, (no easy thing when your feet are elevated on those foot rests), and grab the flaming cat!!!!!! I still don't know how we did it, but we managed it and Scutter and the house were saved. I didn't light a candle after that until I had bought hurricane covers for every candle in the house and even then I didn't want to light a candle with a cat anywhere near it.
On one last note, do you have you any idea how awful burning cat hair smells? Terrible! Absolutely terrible!
All's well that ends well, and this cat-astrophe ended well. Thank goodness.
Thanks for bringing that story back to my mind Karla. It was fun to remember that snowy morning during this summer heat wave.
There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life; music and cats." Albert Schweitzer
When AC was teaching, it was a real joy to roll over on a tired winter morning and hear the radio announcer give us the news that a terrible snow storm had hit the city, the school buses were cancelled and schools were closed for the day. Oh the sheer joy of a snow day at our house. A gift of unexpected free time dropped into our laps during a busy school term was delicious indeed. The sheer luxury of snuggling down deeper under the covers instead of trudging outside into the cold snowy morning was rich beyond words.
On this particular morning the reports were of a storm so terrible we just had to get up and look out the window to see what was going on. Yessirree, we were socked in but good, and the snow was still coming down thick and steady. How neat. I love a good storm. Once out of bed, we decided to stay up and head down to the family room and watch the storm for awhile. We turned the fireplace on in the family room to make that area all toasty warm while I made a big pot of coffee, and some hot buttered bagels. It was still rather dark outside, but rather than turn the lights on in the family room I lit a candle on the coffee table and thought that it and the glow from the fire would give us just enough light to sit comfortably and munch our breakfast while we watched the storm. MMMM, now this was the way to spend a snowy morning.
Just as we reclined back into our Lazyboy chairs with our hot coffee and bagels, Scutter, our long haired Persian cat (note how long and fluffy his tail is in this picture of him in the garden) came out of the den and looked at us in a puzzled way. He seemed to be asking us what the heck we were doing, sitting in the family room at this hour on a school day of all days. Didn't we know that he was trying to sleep and we were disturbing him? We ignored him and chatted on about how much fun it was to start the morning like this and how great retirement the next year would be. Just at that point, Scutter jumped up on the coffee table and…..yes….. walked past the candle I had lit earlier. His tail brushed past the flame and he went up like dry tinder. Puff, and his tail was in flames. Holy kittens Batman, the pussy cat's on fire!!!!!! His hair was so long, he didn't know he was on fire though, so he just sat there looking at us. Yikes! As AC and I both lunged for him, our quick movements startled him and he turned to run. We grabbed him just as he was about to jump off the table and hightail it (or maybe I should say "firetail" it) outta there. Can you even imagine the damage a flaming cat running through the house could cause?
Luckily, we caught him in the nick of time and thumped him and bumped him and thwaped him to put his flaming tail out. He looked at us in astonishment as we beat on him and wondered what the heck he had done to deserve such treatment. It seemed to take forever to reach him, but in reality it all happened in a matter of seconds, and we managed to "put him out" before the flames reached his skin. Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "Did you put the cat out?" doesn't it? Anyway, he was pretty bedraggled and singed looking, but no major harm was done to him or the house, thank goodness. It could have been much worse. Oh, so much worse. Can you even imagine it? I shudder to think of it. We laugh about it now, but that morning it was a tad scary. Here we were reclining back in our chairs with hot coffee in our hands and we had to get rid of the coffee, get out of the chairs, (no easy thing when your feet are elevated on those foot rests), and grab the flaming cat!!!!!! I still don't know how we did it, but we managed it and Scutter and the house were saved. I didn't light a candle after that until I had bought hurricane covers for every candle in the house and even then I didn't want to light a candle with a cat anywhere near it.
On one last note, do you have you any idea how awful burning cat hair smells? Terrible! Absolutely terrible!
All's well that ends well, and this cat-astrophe ended well. Thank goodness.
Thanks for bringing that story back to my mind Karla. It was fun to remember that snowy morning during this summer heat wave.
There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life; music and cats." Albert Schweitzer
Saturday, July 30, 2005
A Nod from Queen Ann
We went out for a bike ride yesterday and I enjoyed a positively royal ride. I have spent so much time with cardboard and cobwebs during the past month I think my brain overloaded on the beauty all along our path that day, and I thrilled at getting a nod from Queen Ann and all her attendants.
When we first set out for our ride I had to fight with myself to stop the spinning in my head of all the work to be done to get ready for this move, and also let go of the worry about Lady Bug. Eventually I was able to let my thoughts go with the spin of the tires against the trail and my eyes were opened to the beauty of the moment I was in; and absolutely beautiful it was.
We were treated to a day without humidity and blistering temps so it was a comfortable cool ride. The roads we travelled were lined with Queen Ann's Lace and they all nodded as we pedalled by. How neat to get a nod from the Queen and view her royal court in all its splendour.
She was surrounded by her Ladies-in-waiting wearing clear yellow and soft blue gowns. Her royal body guards, the ferocious Dandelions, were out in full force standing proud and tall beside her while other members of the court, the Monarch butterflies, flitted around their heads and tried to make them smile.
The emerald green fields fringed with feathery tan grasses spread out behind Queen Ann like a fine tapestry and added such richness to the scene. Her armies of corn soldiers were standing at attention in their perfectly straight rows all along the route, and they looked magnificent all decked out in their parade uniforms trimmed with the finest silk and golden tassels.
The sky was dressed in its best Cerulean outfit accented with the fluffiest whitest clouds, intricately designed for just this occasion.
The court jesters dressed as Gold Finches darted in and out of the procession and made us laugh.
Yes, it was a positively royal ride and I enjoyed every moment of it.
Imagination is more important than knowledge, for knowledge is limited while imagination embraces the entire world.
Albert Einstein
Imagination is the highest kite that can fly
Lauren Bacall
Let your imagination go today and fly that kite higher than you ever thought possible. Have fun and perhaps you will get a nod from royalty too!
When we first set out for our ride I had to fight with myself to stop the spinning in my head of all the work to be done to get ready for this move, and also let go of the worry about Lady Bug. Eventually I was able to let my thoughts go with the spin of the tires against the trail and my eyes were opened to the beauty of the moment I was in; and absolutely beautiful it was.
We were treated to a day without humidity and blistering temps so it was a comfortable cool ride. The roads we travelled were lined with Queen Ann's Lace and they all nodded as we pedalled by. How neat to get a nod from the Queen and view her royal court in all its splendour.
She was surrounded by her Ladies-in-waiting wearing clear yellow and soft blue gowns. Her royal body guards, the ferocious Dandelions, were out in full force standing proud and tall beside her while other members of the court, the Monarch butterflies, flitted around their heads and tried to make them smile.
The emerald green fields fringed with feathery tan grasses spread out behind Queen Ann like a fine tapestry and added such richness to the scene. Her armies of corn soldiers were standing at attention in their perfectly straight rows all along the route, and they looked magnificent all decked out in their parade uniforms trimmed with the finest silk and golden tassels.
The sky was dressed in its best Cerulean outfit accented with the fluffiest whitest clouds, intricately designed for just this occasion.
The court jesters dressed as Gold Finches darted in and out of the procession and made us laugh.
Yes, it was a positively royal ride and I enjoyed every moment of it.
Imagination is more important than knowledge, for knowledge is limited while imagination embraces the entire world.
Albert Einstein
Imagination is the highest kite that can fly
Lauren Bacall
Let your imagination go today and fly that kite higher than you ever thought possible. Have fun and perhaps you will get a nod from royalty too!
Sign of joy
I was worried about Lady Bug yesterday and felt so far away and helpless. I just wanted to go to her and help her but couldn't. I got a call from Butterfly last night,Lady Bug's big sister, and she said she went into the city yesterday to see Lady Bug and brought her back to her house for the long weekend. Ah, Lady Bug is safe with big sister now and big sister will give her lots of tender loving care. She will even give her a hug from me. I feel so much better now.
What a gift of joy it is to me that they have such a great relationship and can be there for each other.
In moments of joy all of us wish we possessed a tail we could wag.
W.H. Auden
Yep, I do, and if I did, it would be wagging right now.
What a gift of joy it is to me that they have such a great relationship and can be there for each other.
In moments of joy all of us wish we possessed a tail we could wag.
W.H. Auden
Yep, I do, and if I did, it would be wagging right now.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Random Summer Thoughts
I thought I would borrow an idea from Judy and Heather and just post some random summer thoughts today. Things are rather scattered and disjointed here and I can't quite pull my thoughts together, so random writing should fit quite nicely for this post.
1. Lady Bug had a rather serious tumble on her bike the other day and it knocked AC and me for a bit of an emotional tumble too. It is so hard when your kids hurt and you can't help them. I just spoke to Lady Bug and she sounded pretty down in the dumps today – two days post accident. I asked her where it hurt and she said everywhere. She can hardly move and is in quite a lot of pain. Sigh. I am too far away to go over and help her, so I will just have to send a hug across the miles. So hard on a mother's heart this is.
2. I went to the Bike Shop for my inner piece the other day and they couldn't find it!!!! With all that has been going on in my life these days, why am I not surprised? In the meantime, the old inner piece snapped into place and has been working fine. Inner peace and a new inner piece– I am working on both!!!!
3. I set a goal for myself to have the basement and den area sorted and packed by the end of July. Well, I am pleased to report that I am a few days ahead of schedule. Yes, it is only July 29th, and they are both done!!!! Yahoo! Not only that, but we also got the garden sheds and the porch storage area done. Double Yahoo! Four weeks to go until moving day.
4. Next big project is packing my kitchen. I won't start that until the second week in August though. That is a last minute job for sure. At least the cupboards were all cleaned out when we did the renovation project, so I just have to pack what is there, not sort it all out too. On that note, would you believe that my kitchen still isn't finished? We started it back in April and I am still waiting for the finishing touches to be done. Sigh. I must admit that the pace of getting it done is starting to wear on me just a tad! Well, more than a tad – a lot actually. I just want it DONE! It would be nice to see the finished project before we have to move!
4. The hot humid weather left us for a few days and we have therefore enjoyed a few marvellous rides on our bikes. Oh it is so nice to ride in the fresh cool early morning air. We just got back from a 50k ride this morning and we are both rather knackered right now, but it is such a nice knackered.
5. Mamma and Poppa Sparrow are busy, busy, busy these days. The babies are noisy and demanding and getting bigger every day. I saw five heads in there when there were smaller, but now I only see three. Maybe it isn't the same three each time I look in and we still have five healthy birds in the house. I sure hope so.
It absolutely amazes me how diligent and hard working mom and pop Sparrow are in their parenting roles. They haven't taken any courses, read any parenting books, or watched any educational videos, but they know just what to do and do it perfectly. They work without stopping all day, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It really is non-stop! Sometimes they almost crash into each other when one is just leaving and the other is coming in for a landing with fresh food. I get up some mornings at 6am and they are already hard at work and they are still going strong at 9pm when we come inside for the day.
6. I just got an interesting book from the library. "The Worst is Over - what to say when every moment counts. Verbal First Aid to calm, relieve pain and promote healing and save lives" by Judith Acosta and Judith Prager
I put in a request for this book months ago and it just came in on an inter-library loan so I am making time to read it before we move. I am only on page 33 and I already know that I want my own copy of this book so an order has been made to Amazon.
Oh the power of words and how they affect us. Without warning some day we might happen upon an accident and our words might be all we have to help someone in need. This book outlines what to say in times of crisis and how to administer verbal first aid.
Words are small shapes in the gorgeous chaos of the world. But they are shapes, they bring the world into focus, they corral ideas, they hone thoughts, they paint watercolours of perception.
Diane Ackerman
Well, I had fun painting a few random strokes of "watercolour words" on my blog. I feel better already.
1. Lady Bug had a rather serious tumble on her bike the other day and it knocked AC and me for a bit of an emotional tumble too. It is so hard when your kids hurt and you can't help them. I just spoke to Lady Bug and she sounded pretty down in the dumps today – two days post accident. I asked her where it hurt and she said everywhere. She can hardly move and is in quite a lot of pain. Sigh. I am too far away to go over and help her, so I will just have to send a hug across the miles. So hard on a mother's heart this is.
2. I went to the Bike Shop for my inner piece the other day and they couldn't find it!!!! With all that has been going on in my life these days, why am I not surprised? In the meantime, the old inner piece snapped into place and has been working fine. Inner peace and a new inner piece– I am working on both!!!!
3. I set a goal for myself to have the basement and den area sorted and packed by the end of July. Well, I am pleased to report that I am a few days ahead of schedule. Yes, it is only July 29th, and they are both done!!!! Yahoo! Not only that, but we also got the garden sheds and the porch storage area done. Double Yahoo! Four weeks to go until moving day.
4. Next big project is packing my kitchen. I won't start that until the second week in August though. That is a last minute job for sure. At least the cupboards were all cleaned out when we did the renovation project, so I just have to pack what is there, not sort it all out too. On that note, would you believe that my kitchen still isn't finished? We started it back in April and I am still waiting for the finishing touches to be done. Sigh. I must admit that the pace of getting it done is starting to wear on me just a tad! Well, more than a tad – a lot actually. I just want it DONE! It would be nice to see the finished project before we have to move!
4. The hot humid weather left us for a few days and we have therefore enjoyed a few marvellous rides on our bikes. Oh it is so nice to ride in the fresh cool early morning air. We just got back from a 50k ride this morning and we are both rather knackered right now, but it is such a nice knackered.
5. Mamma and Poppa Sparrow are busy, busy, busy these days. The babies are noisy and demanding and getting bigger every day. I saw five heads in there when there were smaller, but now I only see three. Maybe it isn't the same three each time I look in and we still have five healthy birds in the house. I sure hope so.
It absolutely amazes me how diligent and hard working mom and pop Sparrow are in their parenting roles. They haven't taken any courses, read any parenting books, or watched any educational videos, but they know just what to do and do it perfectly. They work without stopping all day, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It really is non-stop! Sometimes they almost crash into each other when one is just leaving and the other is coming in for a landing with fresh food. I get up some mornings at 6am and they are already hard at work and they are still going strong at 9pm when we come inside for the day.
6. I just got an interesting book from the library. "The Worst is Over - what to say when every moment counts. Verbal First Aid to calm, relieve pain and promote healing and save lives" by Judith Acosta and Judith Prager
I put in a request for this book months ago and it just came in on an inter-library loan so I am making time to read it before we move. I am only on page 33 and I already know that I want my own copy of this book so an order has been made to Amazon.
Oh the power of words and how they affect us. Without warning some day we might happen upon an accident and our words might be all we have to help someone in need. This book outlines what to say in times of crisis and how to administer verbal first aid.
Words are small shapes in the gorgeous chaos of the world. But they are shapes, they bring the world into focus, they corral ideas, they hone thoughts, they paint watercolours of perception.
Diane Ackerman
Well, I had fun painting a few random strokes of "watercolour words" on my blog. I feel better already.
Monday, July 25, 2005
Grilled cheese and the Cosmic Dance
We have the best neighbours in the world and I will miss them dearly when we move.
On the south side we have a young family; mom and dad, oldest child, a daughter, just going into grade nine this year and young son going into grade six. This couple lives across the driveway from us and has a bird's eye view of all the comings and going at our side door, so they keep and eye on the house for us when we travel. Their young daughter brings in the mail, waters my hanging baskets and keeps the front of the house looking clean and tidy while we are away. That is no small task when we are gone for a month at a time. In the winter she shovels the walk and makes foot prints to the side door to make it look like people are home. What a gem she is. I have watched her grow into a charming young lady and will miss seeing her go off to high school this fall.
On the north side we have a single mom with three delightful daughters. We don't see them as often as our, across the drive neighbours just because of the position of our doors. But the young girls visit me from time to time.
Both moms work outside the home full time and have a lot on their plates at home and at work. I stand amazed at these women and all they have to do each day. Both of them went back to school after their kids went to school full time and managed, house, home, kids and school. One is now a registered nurse and the other a professional business woman. My hat is off to both of these amazing women. Not only did they reach for their personal dreams, but they raised amazing kids in the meantime.
Because we are retired and home most of the time, we are the neighbours they call on if they need help. I have met the school bus, made after school treats for the kids when mom has been delayed, played host to the kids on PA days when other arrangements couldn't be made and just generally been there when they needed me.
The little girls to the north of us quite often have friends over for sleep-overs and other things and when they do they bring their friends over to say hello to me. I keep a bowl of treats at the front door for just such times. Maybe a candy necklace (the ones with pastel candy discs strung on a piece of elastic) or some other fun treat that mom might not buy for them. Because we don't have family in the area, I always considered these kids on both sides of us as my stand-in grandkids. They sit at my kitchen table and sip chocolate milk from a teacup while I sip tea from mine and listen to their stories.
The other day a knock came to the front door and it was the middle girl from the house to the north of us. She is in grade 10 this year and on this day was babysitting her younger sister while mom was at work. She told me she wanted to make grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, but mom had forgotten to buy cheese, so could she borrow some cheese to make her sandwich. I gave her my chunk of cheese and told her to use what she needed and bring the rest back. Five minutes later she was at the front door with the bag in hand.
"Did you have enough?" I asked as she handed me the bag.
"Yes" she said "Thank you. Now can I ask you for one more thing?"
"Sure" I said. "What?"
"Can I borrow some bread?!!!!"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she burst out laughing. I started to laugh too. What a hoot. It was just too funny that she started to make grilled cheese sandwiches without any bread or cheese!!!
"Do you need butter too?" I asked.
"No" she spluttered
I am laughing again as I type this. I sure will miss these kids when we move. A house is just a house and we will make the new one our cozy home, no matter how small and different it might be, but I will miss these "grand-children of the heart". What a joy they have been to me.
"When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash- at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the "newness" the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance."
Thomas Merton
Children being children do provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance. What a gift.
On the south side we have a young family; mom and dad, oldest child, a daughter, just going into grade nine this year and young son going into grade six. This couple lives across the driveway from us and has a bird's eye view of all the comings and going at our side door, so they keep and eye on the house for us when we travel. Their young daughter brings in the mail, waters my hanging baskets and keeps the front of the house looking clean and tidy while we are away. That is no small task when we are gone for a month at a time. In the winter she shovels the walk and makes foot prints to the side door to make it look like people are home. What a gem she is. I have watched her grow into a charming young lady and will miss seeing her go off to high school this fall.
On the north side we have a single mom with three delightful daughters. We don't see them as often as our, across the drive neighbours just because of the position of our doors. But the young girls visit me from time to time.
Both moms work outside the home full time and have a lot on their plates at home and at work. I stand amazed at these women and all they have to do each day. Both of them went back to school after their kids went to school full time and managed, house, home, kids and school. One is now a registered nurse and the other a professional business woman. My hat is off to both of these amazing women. Not only did they reach for their personal dreams, but they raised amazing kids in the meantime.
Because we are retired and home most of the time, we are the neighbours they call on if they need help. I have met the school bus, made after school treats for the kids when mom has been delayed, played host to the kids on PA days when other arrangements couldn't be made and just generally been there when they needed me.
The little girls to the north of us quite often have friends over for sleep-overs and other things and when they do they bring their friends over to say hello to me. I keep a bowl of treats at the front door for just such times. Maybe a candy necklace (the ones with pastel candy discs strung on a piece of elastic) or some other fun treat that mom might not buy for them. Because we don't have family in the area, I always considered these kids on both sides of us as my stand-in grandkids. They sit at my kitchen table and sip chocolate milk from a teacup while I sip tea from mine and listen to their stories.
The other day a knock came to the front door and it was the middle girl from the house to the north of us. She is in grade 10 this year and on this day was babysitting her younger sister while mom was at work. She told me she wanted to make grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, but mom had forgotten to buy cheese, so could she borrow some cheese to make her sandwich. I gave her my chunk of cheese and told her to use what she needed and bring the rest back. Five minutes later she was at the front door with the bag in hand.
"Did you have enough?" I asked as she handed me the bag.
"Yes" she said "Thank you. Now can I ask you for one more thing?"
"Sure" I said. "What?"
"Can I borrow some bread?!!!!"
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she burst out laughing. I started to laugh too. What a hoot. It was just too funny that she started to make grilled cheese sandwiches without any bread or cheese!!!
"Do you need butter too?" I asked.
"No" she spluttered
I am laughing again as I type this. I sure will miss these kids when we move. A house is just a house and we will make the new one our cozy home, no matter how small and different it might be, but I will miss these "grand-children of the heart". What a joy they have been to me.
"When we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash- at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the "newness" the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance."
Thomas Merton
Children being children do provide a glimpse of the cosmic dance. What a gift.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Weighty Issues
We have five weeks to go until moving day, and some days I feel like I have things well in hand and other days I feel like I will never be ready on time.
Goodness it is hard to pack your whole life's accumulation into boxes. I have discovered that nothing fits easily into a box. Handles are too long or bottoms too wide to fit into most boxes, and if something does fit on the first try, it won’t fit snugly with other things in the same box. I feel like I am working on the world's largest jigsaw puzzle, and don't even like ordinary jigsaw puzzles! I carry things from room to room and box to box to see if I can get a better combination than the crushable rose wreath snuggled next to the cast iron skillet!!!!!!
As hard as it is to fit things into boxes, I wish that was all I had to contend with on this move but it isn't. This is not just a move where I can put items into containers and move them, I have to look at everything I own and decide if I want to keep it or not because we are moving to a much smaller house, and some things just have to go.
Also, because of our bad backs, we cannot do the lugging and carrying of the boxes or furniture ourselves, so we are paying movers to come in and load and unload the truck. We are doing our own packing, but not the lifting and carrying. The mover calculates the cost of his part of the deal by weight and distance travelled so I have another reason to get rid of stuff, especially heavy stuff. I am literally weighing in my mind, almost everything I touch and asking myself if I really want to lug it across country with me. If I pick up an item and it is light it gets a fairly easy pass, but it if weighs more than a loaf of bread it demands lots of thought and has to pass a critical test – does its value to me weigh more than the cost of its weight to transport? If not, out it goes. In the battle of the cast iron skillet and the rose wreath, the rose wreath wins and the skillet goes to the Goodwill.
You can see from AC's post that we are getting rid of literally "tons" of paper!!! I must admit that it gives me shivers to shred all the papers I have so diligently filed and kept all these years, but it has to be done one day, and it is better that we do it now, instead of leaving it for our kids to do without us during a time of grief. I cleaned out my mother-in-law's house after she passed and it was a very difficult task to get rid of "stuff" she considered treasures. As I work away on my own house, I keep telling myself that I am giving my girls a gift by doing this instead of leaving it for them to do. As hard as it is for me, it is easier than it would be for them. Right?
Amazingly enough, as I weigh everything in my mind and put only what I think is really important into the boxes that come with me; and the boxes to give away get heavier and heavier, my spirit gets lighter and lighter. This incredible lightness of being is bringing such joy. There is a wonderful freedom in getting rid of the stuff that weighs us down, emotionally or physically. Clutter is clutter no matter what type it is – physical or spiritual, and both kinds seem to have the same affect on our lives- weighing us down, limiting our view and restricting our movements.
Here's to losing weight and feeling light and free. It is wonderful, positively wonderful. Almost an ecstatic experience.
The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience. Emily Dickinson
Goodness it is hard to pack your whole life's accumulation into boxes. I have discovered that nothing fits easily into a box. Handles are too long or bottoms too wide to fit into most boxes, and if something does fit on the first try, it won’t fit snugly with other things in the same box. I feel like I am working on the world's largest jigsaw puzzle, and don't even like ordinary jigsaw puzzles! I carry things from room to room and box to box to see if I can get a better combination than the crushable rose wreath snuggled next to the cast iron skillet!!!!!!
As hard as it is to fit things into boxes, I wish that was all I had to contend with on this move but it isn't. This is not just a move where I can put items into containers and move them, I have to look at everything I own and decide if I want to keep it or not because we are moving to a much smaller house, and some things just have to go.
Also, because of our bad backs, we cannot do the lugging and carrying of the boxes or furniture ourselves, so we are paying movers to come in and load and unload the truck. We are doing our own packing, but not the lifting and carrying. The mover calculates the cost of his part of the deal by weight and distance travelled so I have another reason to get rid of stuff, especially heavy stuff. I am literally weighing in my mind, almost everything I touch and asking myself if I really want to lug it across country with me. If I pick up an item and it is light it gets a fairly easy pass, but it if weighs more than a loaf of bread it demands lots of thought and has to pass a critical test – does its value to me weigh more than the cost of its weight to transport? If not, out it goes. In the battle of the cast iron skillet and the rose wreath, the rose wreath wins and the skillet goes to the Goodwill.
You can see from AC's post that we are getting rid of literally "tons" of paper!!! I must admit that it gives me shivers to shred all the papers I have so diligently filed and kept all these years, but it has to be done one day, and it is better that we do it now, instead of leaving it for our kids to do without us during a time of grief. I cleaned out my mother-in-law's house after she passed and it was a very difficult task to get rid of "stuff" she considered treasures. As I work away on my own house, I keep telling myself that I am giving my girls a gift by doing this instead of leaving it for them to do. As hard as it is for me, it is easier than it would be for them. Right?
Amazingly enough, as I weigh everything in my mind and put only what I think is really important into the boxes that come with me; and the boxes to give away get heavier and heavier, my spirit gets lighter and lighter. This incredible lightness of being is bringing such joy. There is a wonderful freedom in getting rid of the stuff that weighs us down, emotionally or physically. Clutter is clutter no matter what type it is – physical or spiritual, and both kinds seem to have the same affect on our lives- weighing us down, limiting our view and restricting our movements.
Here's to losing weight and feeling light and free. It is wonderful, positively wonderful. Almost an ecstatic experience.
The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience. Emily Dickinson
Friday, July 22, 2005
Joy and the sharing of memories
Yesterday was a day of mixed emotions for me. Joy and sorrow all tangled up together but in the end joy outweighed the sorrow.
Let me give you a bit of background before I fill you in on what I did yesterday.
As I sort through all the "treasures" I have collected over the years I have to make tough decisions whether to take the treasure with me or take only the memories and leave the object behind. Handmade items crafted by loved ones who have passed are the hardest ones to part with. Sigh.
One such item that has really tugged at my heart is a rather large craft project my mother made over twenty years ago. I inherited this craft because Lady Bug had a teddy bear collection at one time, and, when my mom died, my sister thought that Lady Bug should have this item that her grandmother made and treasured. Lady Bug is a traveller and she likes to travel light. While she values this item she has no place for it and probably never will.
My mother was a very creative person, and I remember vividly all her forays into different crafts when I was growing up. During the whipped wax candle phase, we peeled wax off almost every surface in the house. The sequin ribbon Christmas trees were another wild craft that got out of hand; we had bits and pieces of sequin ribbon in every nook and cranny in the house. When we cut that stuff it would shoot like shrapnel all over the room. I would go to school with it in my hair and even find it in my sandwich at lunch. Yuck!
Sparkle dust was another dastardly craft item that would get all over everything, and all us kids would sparkle and glisten long before glitter make-up was even thought of. I wonder what the guys at work said to my dad when he showed up with sparkle dust in his moustache?
My mom took great delight in making something out of nothing. If you had to go out and buy expensive material to make a craft then it wasn't nearly as much fun for her, and for much of her married life she never had extra money to buy craft materials. She would collect egg cartons to make wastebaskets, orange juice tins to make pencil holders, plastic bags to make Poodles (don’t' ask), old greeting cards to make bowls, sequin ribbon to make Christmas trees — you get the idea.
Dear mom hated housework but loved to do her crafts and could sit in the middle of the rubble of a messy house and create beauty out of the "trash" she collected. Amazing really, but the messy house drove me crazy even as a kid. I hated the piles of egg cartons piled in the corners awaiting the transformation process and the rolls of plastic, soon to become Poodles, sitting in the middle of the living room floor. She didn't mind it, or didn't see it, I am not sure which, but she had to create and create she did.
One of her creations
and the prized craft that we inherited is a Teddy Bear's Picnic made out of bread dough. Yes, bread dough. I don't know how many hours mom spent on this project, but it is an absolutely amazing piece of art. Each piece was painstakingly made out of bread dough, cooked in the oven, hand painted and arranged in this picnic scene. Every blade of grass, bottle of pop, piece of ice, hamburger, hotdog, sandcastle – is made of bread dough. The only things that aren't bread dough are the mirror used for the water, the paper on the kite, the string on the fishing pole, the lace on some of the bears' dresses, and the paper on the finish line sign.
I have had this sitting on a bookcase under a glass cover for thirteen years. Now that we are moving to a much smaller house on the other side of the province I have to decide what to do with this rather large piece of art. It is over twenty years old now, and rather fragile. Would it even take a move across country?
I woke up last week with the bright idea of contacting the Children's library to see if they would accept it as a donation to be displayed there. Yesterday was my appointment with the curator to talk to her about it. With heart beating a little faster, I walked into the library with mom's treasure and wondered what the librarian would think of it. Much to my delight she was absolutely thrilled with it. She took down all sorts of information about it and said she would tour it to all the other libraries in the county – twenty seven in all. I walked out of the library in a swirl of emotions. It made me sad to leave The Teddy Bear's Picnic behind, but I was also full of joy that it would be on display in the Children's library and enjoyed by so many.
We left the library and went down to the Bay for coffee and a few minutes of quiet by the water. I sat there and let the emotions of the day wash over me. I looked up at the sky and thought of mom and how pleased she would be that her work of art would be on display for the children in this area. It felt good and it felt right.
Joy and sorrow all tangled up together, but, in the end, joy outweighed the sorrow. How wonderful when that happens.
Let me give you a bit of background before I fill you in on what I did yesterday.
As I sort through all the "treasures" I have collected over the years I have to make tough decisions whether to take the treasure with me or take only the memories and leave the object behind. Handmade items crafted by loved ones who have passed are the hardest ones to part with. Sigh.
One such item that has really tugged at my heart is a rather large craft project my mother made over twenty years ago. I inherited this craft because Lady Bug had a teddy bear collection at one time, and, when my mom died, my sister thought that Lady Bug should have this item that her grandmother made and treasured. Lady Bug is a traveller and she likes to travel light. While she values this item she has no place for it and probably never will.
My mother was a very creative person, and I remember vividly all her forays into different crafts when I was growing up. During the whipped wax candle phase, we peeled wax off almost every surface in the house. The sequin ribbon Christmas trees were another wild craft that got out of hand; we had bits and pieces of sequin ribbon in every nook and cranny in the house. When we cut that stuff it would shoot like shrapnel all over the room. I would go to school with it in my hair and even find it in my sandwich at lunch. Yuck!
Sparkle dust was another dastardly craft item that would get all over everything, and all us kids would sparkle and glisten long before glitter make-up was even thought of. I wonder what the guys at work said to my dad when he showed up with sparkle dust in his moustache?
My mom took great delight in making something out of nothing. If you had to go out and buy expensive material to make a craft then it wasn't nearly as much fun for her, and for much of her married life she never had extra money to buy craft materials. She would collect egg cartons to make wastebaskets, orange juice tins to make pencil holders, plastic bags to make Poodles (don’t' ask), old greeting cards to make bowls, sequin ribbon to make Christmas trees — you get the idea.
Dear mom hated housework but loved to do her crafts and could sit in the middle of the rubble of a messy house and create beauty out of the "trash" she collected. Amazing really, but the messy house drove me crazy even as a kid. I hated the piles of egg cartons piled in the corners awaiting the transformation process and the rolls of plastic, soon to become Poodles, sitting in the middle of the living room floor. She didn't mind it, or didn't see it, I am not sure which, but she had to create and create she did.
One of her creations
and the prized craft that we inherited is a Teddy Bear's Picnic made out of bread dough. Yes, bread dough. I don't know how many hours mom spent on this project, but it is an absolutely amazing piece of art. Each piece was painstakingly made out of bread dough, cooked in the oven, hand painted and arranged in this picnic scene. Every blade of grass, bottle of pop, piece of ice, hamburger, hotdog, sandcastle – is made of bread dough. The only things that aren't bread dough are the mirror used for the water, the paper on the kite, the string on the fishing pole, the lace on some of the bears' dresses, and the paper on the finish line sign. 
I have had this sitting on a bookcase under a glass cover for thirteen years. Now that we are moving to a much smaller house on the other side of the province I have to decide what to do with this rather large piece of art. It is over twenty years old now, and rather fragile. Would it even take a move across country?
I woke up last week with the bright idea of contacting the Children's library to see if they would accept it as a donation to be displayed there. Yesterday was my appointment with the curator to talk to her about it. With heart beating a little faster, I walked into the library with mom's treasure and wondered what the librarian would think of it. Much to my delight she was absolutely thrilled with it. She took down all sorts of information about it and said she would tour it to all the other libraries in the county – twenty seven in all. I walked out of the library in a swirl of emotions. It made me sad to leave The Teddy Bear's Picnic behind, but I was also full of joy that it would be on display in the Children's library and enjoyed by so many.
We left the library and went down to the Bay for coffee and a few minutes of quiet by the water. I sat there and let the emotions of the day wash over me. I looked up at the sky and thought of mom and how pleased she would be that her work of art would be on display for the children in this area. It felt good and it felt right.
Joy and sorrow all tangled up together, but, in the end, joy outweighed the sorrow. How wonderful when that happens.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Inner Peace
The packing and sorting continues at our house, but AC and I have made it a priority to get out on the bikes as much as we can these days and enjoy as many trips as possible on these wonderful trails before we move to another part of the country. What a treat it is to ride out to the lake early in the morning and start our hectic days off that way. The ride in the cool morning air clears my head and helps me start my "packing" day on the right foot.
When I have a huge task in front of me I tend to go to bed at night with things that need to be done spinning through my head, and I wake up in the same spin. If I write down what needs to be done, set some time goals and have my plan of attack recorded in black and white on paper, that really helps to slow down the spin of thoughts in my head. So, I make list upon list and am always planning what my next step will be, but some days the lists don't help and I feel overwhelmed by the mountain ahead of me. The only thing for it is to go outside and calm down. Look at the trees, listen to the waves, feel the wind against my face. A ride on the bike does all of this for me.
Just before we set off for our ride the other day I grabbed my bike helmet and noticed that the plastic tension strap on it wouldn't tighten the way it should. I turned to AC and said "I need to go the bike shop and see if I can find a new inner piece."
"Hmmm," he said to me, "who knew that you could get inner peace at the bike shop?"
We laughed about it and set off on our ride. As I rode along I thought about what he said and realized that maybe I couldn't find inner peace at the bike shop, but a ride on my bike was sure helping me find some.
Joys come from simple natural things: mists over meadows, sunlight on leaves, the path of moon over water.
Segrid Olson
Joy does comes from these simple things, and with joy comes peace and release. I look at the mists over the meadows and sunlight on the leaves as we pedal along and feel full of joy.
I hope you find "Inner Peace" on your life's journey today too. Maybe even in a bike shop, or your kitchen or the grocery store.
When I have a huge task in front of me I tend to go to bed at night with things that need to be done spinning through my head, and I wake up in the same spin. If I write down what needs to be done, set some time goals and have my plan of attack recorded in black and white on paper, that really helps to slow down the spin of thoughts in my head. So, I make list upon list and am always planning what my next step will be, but some days the lists don't help and I feel overwhelmed by the mountain ahead of me. The only thing for it is to go outside and calm down. Look at the trees, listen to the waves, feel the wind against my face. A ride on the bike does all of this for me.
Just before we set off for our ride the other day I grabbed my bike helmet and noticed that the plastic tension strap on it wouldn't tighten the way it should. I turned to AC and said "I need to go the bike shop and see if I can find a new inner piece."
"Hmmm," he said to me, "who knew that you could get inner peace at the bike shop?"
We laughed about it and set off on our ride. As I rode along I thought about what he said and realized that maybe I couldn't find inner peace at the bike shop, but a ride on my bike was sure helping me find some.
Joys come from simple natural things: mists over meadows, sunlight on leaves, the path of moon over water.
Segrid Olson
Joy does comes from these simple things, and with joy comes peace and release. I look at the mists over the meadows and sunlight on the leaves as we pedal along and feel full of joy.
I hope you find "Inner Peace" on your life's journey today too. Maybe even in a bike shop, or your kitchen or the grocery store.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Butterfly on my shoulder
Ah, sweet relief. This morning the humidity has loosened its grip just a tad and I actually have the windows open. What a treat! Fresh cool air is wafting in the patio door here beside me and once the air meets the fan it swirls around me in the most delightful way. I'm lovin' it
The humidex was in the 40's yesterday, so we stayed put in our air conditioned house and packed boxes. I am happy to report that we have finished the storage room/den area and that feels like a major accomplishment. Next, the basement, but not today, for today we dust off the bikes and head out for a ride. The winds are light and the air cool, so a ride out to the lake is number one on the agenda.
We last rode to the lake on Sunday and at one point we pedalled past a Strawberry field. Oh, I could almost taste the fresh picked wonders because the smell of them was so thick in the air. I had to fight with my bike not to veer off the path and plunge right into that field so I could feast on the bright red gems.
Further along the path we kept being assaulted by the thick rich fragrance of lilacs, but I knew the fragrance wasn't from lilacs because they were all done for the season. I looked around and could see plenty of wildflowers, and wondered which one was imitating the lilac. I soon had the answer to my question, and it had nothing to do with recognizing a flower, and everything to do with seeing a butterfly. Yes, I had a butterfly flit around my head and almost land on my shoulder as I pedalled along. What a gift. The Monarchs are back and that means the Milkweed must be blooming. I couldn't see any, but I could sure smell them. What a beautiful combination- butterflies, the fragrance of Milkweed and a ride out to the lake.
Happiness is as a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but which if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
He who binds to himself a joy
does the winged life destroy
but he who kisses the joy as it flies
lives in Eternity's sun rise.
William Blake
Whatever you are busy doing these days I hope you find time, or take time, to sit quietly and let happiness alight upon you, and you kiss the joy as it flies.
Friday, July 15, 2005
Daydreams
Does anyone know where Jennifer over at Daydreams went? I can't get into her page at all and I am concerned about her. Jennifer if you read this please contact me and let me know how you are doing.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
All the time
Goodness Gina, I do it ALL THE TIME!
If, as you live your life, you find yourself mentally composing blog entries about it, post this exact same sentence in your weblog.
If, as you live your life, you find yourself mentally composing blog entries about it, post this exact same sentence in your weblog.
Time for a shower
I was over visiting Katt at Bamboo Shade the other day, and found this quote that reached out and grabbed me.
"Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life".
~Pable Picasso
I am feeling rather dusty and dry in spirit from all the packing I have been doing in this hot humid weather and I long to pick up a paint brush and take a nice long shower. I packed my paints away yesterday and dreamed of opening them up in my new house. What fun it will be to start a new project once I get there. Oh I can almost feel that cool water washing over my spirit already. Just thinking about painting again makes me feel better.
In the meantime a sponge bath of music will have to do. Turn up the volume and splash, splash, splash!
"Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life".
~Pable Picasso
I am feeling rather dusty and dry in spirit from all the packing I have been doing in this hot humid weather and I long to pick up a paint brush and take a nice long shower. I packed my paints away yesterday and dreamed of opening them up in my new house. What fun it will be to start a new project once I get there. Oh I can almost feel that cool water washing over my spirit already. Just thinking about painting again makes me feel better.
In the meantime a sponge bath of music will have to do. Turn up the volume and splash, splash, splash!
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
H H H
Hot! Humid! Hazy! Yes it is summer here in Southwestern Ontario and I am melting. Help!
We have the house closed up tight and the air conditioning on during the hottest part of the day, but it still feels like an oven in here when I am up to my ears in cardboard and packing materials. I have fans going full blast in the room where I am working at the moment, but I am still melting and am sure AC is going to come in and find just a puddle on the floor where once I stood.
Time to take a break and cool off a bit. The fan is trained right on me and a tall glass of ice water is at the ready. Ahhhhh, that's better. Let the cardboard and packing material wait for a bit I need to escape for awhile.
I enjoyed my morning coffee out on the front deck this morning and that was good for my spirit. I sat under the shade of the huge Linden tree and drank in the beauty of it along with my coffee. I needed that long refreshing drink that only nature can give me.
At the end of a busy day yesterday we sat out on the back deck and watched fire flies play tag in the flower beds. Ah, another deeply refreshing draft for my spirit.
I hope you find a cool refreshing oasis in the world around you during this heat wave too, and you drink deeply whenever you can.
To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.
Jane Austen
We have the house closed up tight and the air conditioning on during the hottest part of the day, but it still feels like an oven in here when I am up to my ears in cardboard and packing materials. I have fans going full blast in the room where I am working at the moment, but I am still melting and am sure AC is going to come in and find just a puddle on the floor where once I stood.
Time to take a break and cool off a bit. The fan is trained right on me and a tall glass of ice water is at the ready. Ahhhhh, that's better. Let the cardboard and packing material wait for a bit I need to escape for awhile.
I enjoyed my morning coffee out on the front deck this morning and that was good for my spirit. I sat under the shade of the huge Linden tree and drank in the beauty of it along with my coffee. I needed that long refreshing drink that only nature can give me.
At the end of a busy day yesterday we sat out on the back deck and watched fire flies play tag in the flower beds. Ah, another deeply refreshing draft for my spirit.
I hope you find a cool refreshing oasis in the world around you during this heat wave too, and you drink deeply whenever you can.
To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.
Jane Austen
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