Friday, May 20, 2016

Celebration Haiku

   spring rain like laughter
bursting from belly and eyes
      a thunderous dance

Sunday, April 10, 2016

A New Day!

At least a new kitchen.

Well, at least new appliances!

The church trustees decided that the fridge, stove and dishwasher were well worn and needed to be replaced. And so they were.

So far, so good. The freezer-on-the-bottom fridge has been moved into, and is proving to be a hit; especially among the residents who formerly had to look below belly-button level to find their pickles and milk. The new (still gas) range has an amazing ability to maintain an incredibly steady, low level of flame. I might be able to move rice cookery from the oven back to the stove! The dishwasher is incredibly quiet. All in all, the new appliances are great, and working well.

Also, the Scrabble tile fridge magnets have been reinstated.

**********************

APPLIANCES HERE
A MAGNETIC FRIDGE EVEN!
LET HAIKU BEGIN



Friday, March 11, 2016

A Haiku And Laundry Hanging Kind Of Morning

TIME TO CLEAN THE FRIDGE
WE GET A BRAND NEW ONE SOON
HOPE IT'S MAGNETIC...

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

On Any Given Day...

JUST CALL ME EITHER

A HARD WORKING WIFE OR A

DOMESTIC GODDESS

Friday, November 6, 2015

Reclaiming The Dusty Places

Alright.

The last of our holiday time has been officially over since Wednesday.

The children were all visited. The granddaughters have been tickled, hugged and kissed, read to, and imagined, danced and laughed uproariously with.

The vacation laundry has been washed, dried, ironed or folded and put away.

Milk, bread, vegetables and fruit have been bought to restock the fridge.

The bathrooms have been thoroughly cleaned, and the floors and carpets have all been vacuumed.

And now.

Now?

Exactly.

What now?

Now we begin to reclaim the dusty places.

The cobwebbed spaces.

The quiet, forgotten corners.

Now we are home, and there is no one but we two to inhabit these walls. We expect none of our kin to be home later. None but us will live, sleep, eat, bathe or rest here.

It has been twenty-eight years since it was just the two of us. TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS!

I think we still remember how to be just We Two. We've tried to be deliberate about US, knowing that this time would come; knowing that we didn't want to look across the dinner table at each other one day, only to see a stranger looking back.

We are comfortable with each other. I think we like each other better than we did when we began the journey. We are good together, and we are alright apart; The Dance has become slower, but more graceful. We generally cohabit with an ease that comes of shared history. We will be okay.

We will be okay.

We will revisit forgotten dreams. We will blow the dust off old ideas and brush the cobwebs from half remembered visions. We will take joy in the Skype moments and telephone conversations, and we will enjoy the slower pace, the quieter space. We will rediscover Ourselves; individually and together. We will be glad we started young; glad that we are still not old to begin the continuation. The next chapter.

Turn the page.

Grab the Pledge and a rag.

There are dusty places to reclaim.



Sunday, September 20, 2015

Regarding Change And Whatnot

I don't enjoy change for the sake of change.

Sometimes "change" is a good thing; when it's as good as a rest, or when it makes a fresher, brighter space, or when it adds up to enough for a London Fog at my favourite coffee place...

But more often change is just plain tough. It means a season of adapting, compromise, learning new things, stretching, working it through...

We're coming to the end of a summer of change, here in The Field.

It started with an urge to "change" the bedroom around. He *knew* he had a picture in his files of how it looked with the bed over there instead of over here... so he searched until he found it, finding, in the process, some pictures of other rooms from when we'd first moved and the spaces hadn't begun yet to fill up.

We decided that we liked the rooms we saw in the pictures of Parsonage Past, and began working our way through a small mountain of books, clutter, fabric and patterns,  in the hope of finding that quieter, less busy place.

A month into The Great Purge of '15, we stumbled upon a little house in our neighbourhood that was up for sale. We investigated, and started walking through a process that had us excited about maybe finding *home*- belonging; roots enough to truly feel part of this community. That the little house was indeed very little only spurred us on to deepen the purge in order to live comfortably in about an eighth of the space we currently inhabit. I was confident we could do it. A good, healthy change. A liberating change.

Then the house deal fell through, and we had to readjust our minds and hearts. 

Just when we were beginning to feel reoriented and content again in our house by the church in the field, we entertained, unawares, an unwanted visitor in the middle of the night.

Ours was one of half a dozen acreages and farms broken into nearly 3 weeks ago. They hit the outbuildings and shops mostly, but our house was one of the few they entered. Although they didn't find any fun toys in the garage, they made off with His new phone and my very old laptop computer. Which means more change of the kind I don't like.

My computer has been replaced, but it's a brand, spanking new one. I've gone from Windows Vista to having to learn Windows 10. It's too new for my old computer game, He thinks, (I'll admit that I like to build houses and play god on Sims2), so I'm having to give a newer version of the game a try. 

Changing all my passwords, changing my favourite game, changing the locks, changing the way we trust the world... not the kind of change that precedes happiness and joy necessarily.

I've changed my perspective a little, figuratively, and a lot, literally. I'm reading the screen here with my new progressive lenses- a change that I'm actually quite happy about. It's taking a little bit to get used to the new spectacles, but I can knit and watch T.V. at the same time again, and that's a change I welcome. 

And the weather is changing. I love the transition into autumn, but I shudder a little at what follows. We just bit the bullet and have secured a better vehicle to face the storms of winter with, but again- change. 

And our last chick has flown the nest, although I'm sure he wouldn't like being referred to as a chick. His stuff is still in the room that has been his since we moved here, but this is the beginning of the end for us, the beginning of the beginning for him. Another change, albeit a good, and necessary one.

Is there a point to this rambling? I don't know. Maybe it's just about getting all y'all caught up. Maybe it's about processing the last few months. Maybe it's about admitting that the summer was a roller-coaster ride of emotions and in the end I'm left feeling a little stretched and heart-sore yet.

One thing that remains is the necessary ability to roll with the punches; I continue to be fairly adaptable, and that's a good thing that I hope doesn't change any time soon. 

Change is a good thing if it means becoming a stronger, transformed version of myself. The changes of this summer are only negative if I let myself become hardened by them; if I don't let those changes rub off the rough edges that needed rubbing off; if I refuse to grow and be made better by this season of change. 

In spite of my age and the progressive lenses in my new glasses, I think I'm not yet old enough to be completely unmoved and unaffected by change. I hope.

So, here's to change. And that London Fog...



Friday, September 4, 2015

Ode To The Small Moths That Disintegrate Upon Thumb Contact

ALL  OVER  THE  PLACE
TINY  BLACK  DOTS  ABOUNDING
A  DUST  MOTH  GRAVEYARD