Changes with Seasons

Winter sports on the Lake

2012-02-10T16:40:00.001-05:00

Is this man walking his dog on the ice?

No, he's actually playing hockey with his dog. Guess nobody else was available.

Hey Fido! Game's not over yet!

Dashing through the snow....um......ice

Is this a kite stuck in a tree?

Nope - I think this is called kite surfing on ice. Or wind-surfing on ice.

Oops, where did the surfer go?

Notice the sky changing colours as day time turns into evening?

Is that a crescent moon? LOL!

No matter what kind of weather we have: ice, snow, or cold, people always seem to find ways of having fun. That guy was kite surfing until after dark.

Sorry for the bad quality of this pic. I couldn't believe he was still out there after dark and ran to get my camera (which I'd put away). It looks like he's upset that the kite has fallen. Time to call it a day.

Living in a condor

2012-01-19T21:55:00.000-05:00

"My Grandma lives in a condor," says Granddaughter importantly to her school friend.

A condor? I had to stop and think for a minute. Isn't that a dinosaur?
I googled "condor" and found out it was a new world vulture.
Hmmmmm....I knew that.

Well inside my condor I have an indoor garden.
Come and see....

Evening - the light is softer, caressing the flowers in my garden

Let's move in a little closer for a better look

I'm always excited to see the first signs of new life...

My orange hibiscus rewards me with a bud. She must love the south facing sunny window

First tiny goldfish bloom. Spring must be around the corner, even though it's freezing outside


Shhhhhh, crocus buds are sleeping.


Ahhhhh, the magic of sunshine

Hello? Anybody out there?

Nope, the street is empty and so is the lake. Good- bye

Winter in Montreal

2012-01-11T20:45:00.000-05:00

What's this rectangle doing on the frozen lake?


Let's take a closer look. Hmmm, could it be ice faeries preparing a dance floor?


Nahh, just some school boys making a hockey rink.

Come on buddy, hurry up and tie your skates. It's not much fun playing alone.

What better way to spend Sunday afternoon than skating on the frozen lake?

Well that was fun. Time to go home.

Just thought I'd snap a pic of this couple out for a chilly stroll on the lake

Faerie lanterns in the trees? Naw, it's just a reflection of my living room lights.

Good Night.

Duck messages...

2011-12-29T11:48:00.000-05:00


This blob in the middle of the frozen lake is a flock of ducks. With the zoom feature, they look closer to shore than they really are. This pic is deceptive, as the water looks as if there are waves rippling the surface. It's really all ice and some white snow on top of each frozen wave.


As I watched, some of those ducks took flight, leaving their neighbours huddled together for warmth. Did they go off in search of food? Were they just stretching their wings?

The sun shone brightly through my living room window this morning, giving me some much needed energy and lifting my spirits. Even though Christmas was a joy with my family all around, I find these dark December days difficult to get through. I miss David every day.

With the sense of bliss sunlight always gives me, I decided to get back into my daily tai chi practice. Standing with arms as if circling a tree, my gaze was drawn through the picture window over the lake to the horizon beyond.

And then it stopped at a blob. What is that blob in the middle of the lake? Ahh, it must be the ducks (my ducks). Now that the shore is frozen, my ducks are farther away in their need to find open water.

Had I not been in a tai chi stance, eyes focused on the horizon, I would have missed them. Perhaps the message for me this morning is to relax and stay focused; or like the eye of the storm, there is a calmness (a blob of ducks) at the center of chaos. I still have unpacking to do, furniture to buy and lots of adjusting to do to this new lifestyle. Some days I feel as if I'm running in circles. I have trouble making decisions and have been to various furniture stores, looking at the same merchandise over and over again, for-seemingly-ever. Eventually, it will all fall into place. Life is like that.

On another topic, I will need to learn how to take pictures through my window when the sun is shining brightly. As you can see, these pics and the ones from the last post are completely washed out. I did set my camera to "sunny days" and used the edit feature in my camera software, but the result still produces a lack of colour. If anyone has any tips or advice, I would be very happy to hear it.

Wishing you all Love and Light as the Wheel turns and darkness in this part of the world slowly begins to recede.

Settling In...

2011-12-26T20:18:00.000-05:00

A view from my balcony. Early each morning these ducks swim away from shore towards the middle of the lake.

The trees are bare at this time of year, but it makes for a better view of the water, and the late afternoon sun.

Just to my right, is this view of the shoreline. Too bad those power lines get in the way. but I was standing on the front balcony when I took this.

It is early morning as you can see by the soft pink sky.

Now how did these little monkeys get in this post? Unfortunately, the light was not right for posing on Grandma's windowsill, but I couldn't resist adding these.

Houses speak...

2011-11-24T20:49:00.001-05:00

...and stairs creak...

And strange little doors lead nowhere...

This gentle giraffe.. enjoys a good laugh...

While Kitty peeks out from his lair

All is packed up. Kitty has gone to the farm. See you all at my new home...

Flowers speak

2011-10-29T20:04:00.000-04:00

And these ones speak of love, of caring, and kindness.

I am lucky to be blessed with a dear daughter...

....who knows what it takes to make me smile.....

....to bring sunshine into my life.....

....as time flows forward like a river, carrying me along, and soon I will be approaching my 60th...

Moving on......

2011-10-22T19:52:00.000-04:00

Good-by front door.....

...autumn flowers, leaves, pumpkins....

Good-by Our Home.... (I've lived here 15 years)

.....and our garden shed in the back yard...

Our favourite room...David spend his last days here before hospital admission. His favourite chair brings me comfort in the evenings as I curl up in it to read....

House is sold.
The new young couple will be moving in early December.
Time for me to start packing......
I will miss Our Home......

The Mysterious Lady

2011-10-01T18:53:00.001-04:00

A Mysterious Lady arrived in the post from a land far away and across a deep ocean.
She was a gift from a dear friend. Someone whom I've never met.

She arrived in a package of lavender and lace. There was also a lovely angel card without a face. Willow Tree cards do not need faces. Expression is revealed through gesture, representing an emotion, like comfort, healing, or inspiration.

Inside the card was a mysterious envelope, filled with magical seeds to plant next spring.

"What is this?" inquires Jasmine, pointing to my necklace.
"I think it's a lady or maybe a goddess."
"But she has no head!"
"Well, maybe it's a different shaped head. And she does have little feet, or maybe they're fins. She could be a fish."
A look of disappointment prompted me to revise that unappealing answer.

"Or maybe a mermaid!"
"Ohhhhhhh,oooooo!!" enchantment shone through her little girl eyes.

Now that still doesn't explain her strangely elongated head, if that's what it is, but it really doesn't matter. We were having fun.

"Maybe these gems are magical and if we make a wish......"

Have you ever started down a path (conversation) only to realize a few short words or sentences into it that you've walked into a trap, or were about to say something that you can't change later? Well, I was saved by the bell in the form of Little Brother. How to explain that wishing on gems doesn't really work, after I've encouraged her to do just that?
Well, I'm sure that won't be the last time I let my imagination run free.

So the Mystery Lady Goddess Mermaid has found a good home. Thank you Cheryl for this most precious and beautiful necklace. I can't wait to plant those magical seeds in my new garden when the time is right.

After the storm.....

2011-09-04T19:35:00.000-04:00

An invasion of faerie toadstools.....

Imagine an elf sitting on this one, or hiding underneath.....

Who stepped on Lulu Lemon?

Such a strange looking creature (it really is a mushroom)..

Lemon's little sister, Spotty seems rather shy......

And these pretty whites might be waving good-by...

Hope everyone's having a nice Labour Day weekend and for those who have suffered through Hurricane Irene, I hope the damage is minimal and clean-up done.

Food for Thought

2011-08-26T10:14:00.000-04:00

I don't usually post about things in the news, or about other people's writings, but this is well worth it. Food for thought, and perhaps a timely reminder to live life to its fullest.

A friend sent me an excerpt from Steve Jobs commencement speech at Stanford University in 2005. It's even more poignant now that he has retired due to illness.

Excerpts from his speech:
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.

Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Have a good day everyone.

Just one more..

2011-08-13T16:07:00.002-04:00

These pics don't really go with the story either, but my excuse is it's summer (and anything goes in summer)

Being a Grandma means learning to keep your mouth shut. What worked for us 'way back in the olden days, doesn't necessarily work for our children in these new days. Besides, they need to be making their own decisions about their own lives. Just as we did when it was our turn.

Being a Grandma allows us to observe quietly. Perhaps we might learn something new about our fast-changing world. Even if things were better back then, that life is gone. Better to learn how to live today, than wish we were living yesterday.

Being a Grandma teaches us to be grateful. I'm grateful I don't have to run after active toddlers all day, every day. Only sometimes.

Being a Grandma gives us a new freedom. I don't have to cook huge meals or do mountains of laundry any more. I can sit and read or sip tea without interruption all afternoon, if I choose.

And finally, being a Grandma gives us moments. Hugging moments, sharing moments, snuggling moments, comforting moments, loving moments, all laced together with smiles and chuckles at unexpected moments.

Okay, now here's the "just one more"......
A trip to the local public library was on our agenda that afternoon.
Bag of library books to be returned.
Check.
Water bottles and snacks.
Check.
Children in their car seats.
Check.
Seatbelts fastened (with a little difficulty as Grandma is not so dexterous as she once was, and those plastic thing-me-bobs clips that attach over, under, and between are hard on the thumbs!).
Check.

I quickly get in behind the wheel and push the "childproof lock buttons" . Now, tiny fingers cannot open car doors while Grandma is driving.

Turning around to make sure everyone is all right, I notice four-year-old toddler is wiggling around uncomfortably in her carseat.
"What's wrong, Jasmine?"
"Grandma, " she says very politely in her little-girl voice, "will you please digest my seatbelt?"

Bless you!

2011-07-29T18:55:00.000-04:00

Simon and Owen at the water park

The pics don't go with the story, but I have no pics of grandbabies lying on the grass under the shade of the old oak tree.
That's where we were, or at least two of my grandchildren (and not even the ones in the pics). I was sitting on the front porch steps, minding them on this hot summer afternoon.

Toys had been abandoned. It was too hot. I was thinking of filling up the baby pool, but decided to let them rest on the blanket for a bit. At first they wiggled around, each claiming there was not enough room, but soon they settled down and stared up at the leaves overhead.
Jazzy is 41/2
Nathan is 21/2

Nathan: Jazzy, why are the leaves moving?
Jazzy: They're dancing.

Nathan: Do clouds fall down?
Jazzy: No. They're glued to the sky.
Nathan: How come?
Jazzy: I don't know.

Nathan, turning over on his tummy: Is that a bug, Jazzy?
Jazzy, focusing on a spider web in the grass: I'm not inter-es-ting, right now.

Wise Grandma: Yes, Nathan that's an ant. Listen, children, the birds are singing.
Both children stop for a minute and listen.
Nathan: No Grandma, they aren't singing. I don't hear the words.

Phthhhhh!
Wise Grandma: You say, "excuse-me" Nathan.
Nathan giggling: Jazzy, Jazzy, I f*rt!
Jazzy, still engrossed in the spider web: I'm not inter-es-ting!!!
Wise Grandma (prompting little grandson): Nathan, you say "excuse-me"
Nathan: Excuse me.
Jazzy looking at me with the knowing eyes of a 4-year-old: Grandma, nice ladies say "bless you!"

I could not stop myself from laughing out loud. And next time I hear someone f*rt, I will remember to say "bless you!"

Reading Between The Lines...

2011-07-19T20:08:00.003-04:00

is finally here!

(for some reason the link to order doesn't work. you can just click on Amazon to order or sneak a preview)

Yesterday after a full day of babysitting, I was tired and hot. Entering through the garage, I did not notice the package lying on my front door step.
After supper, I decided to water my flowers in the front yard. That was when I noticed the brown package at my front door.
Now, out here in the semi-country, it's normal for mail and packages to be left on a doorstep. No one would dream of taking anything. More often than not, a thoughtful neighbour will pick up someone's newspaper lying at the end of their driveway and bring it up to the front door, or the phone book. Deliveries as well are often left with neighbours. It's that kind of a community.
I was just glad it hadn't rained.

At first I thought the package might just be for David. For months after he was gone, mail was still delivered, publications and magazines and this looked like a medical or pharmaceutical directory.
I read the return address: National Book (distributor or something). I did not have my reading glasses on, of course, so I read: National Bank.
"What on earth?" I didn't order anything from the bank. Not even any chequebooks, which would be much smaller anyway. "Hmm, maybe some sort of advertising."
You can imagine my surprise and pleasure when I opened the package and six copies of my book - my book in print - spilled out! I am so exited!!

I will have to do another blog post with some excerpts and a "give-away". This will be so much fun! Yippeeeee!
And I must, I simply must thank every one of my blogging buddies for all your encouragement!

When the universe hands you ...

2011-07-13T21:35:00.001-04:00

lemon, you make lemonade. When the universe hands you a weed... (or 2, or 3)....

you make a bouquet!

I found these "weeds" chopped down at the side of the road. I could not just walk away and leave them to die. So I picked them up, brought them home and put them in a vase on my back deck.

On another note:
I was sitting in a Tim Horton's coffee shop a few days ago, sipping a hot cup of coffee. Looking out the window, I noticed a taxicab pulling up to the curb. Two elderly people got out. The woman was using a cane. Her husband a walker. The driver carefully handed the man his walker and made sure they both were steady on their feet before driving off.
Hmm, I thought. Imagine taking a taxi to a Tim Horton's coffee shop. Well, why not? They must have given up driving for health reasons, and now just call a cab when they need to get around. I watched them slowly make their way towards the door of the coffee shop. They were nicely dressed and obviously looking forward to their "outing."

It's encouraging to see elderly couples out and about enjoying themselves. No matter what is going on in their personal lives, they manage to get out and live a bit. I like that. But last year I did not feel that way. Last year after hubby died I could not stand to see happy couples, especially happy older ones. I was jealous. After all, why do they still have each other when my husband is gone? Thankfully, that stage did not last long. And now when I look at elderly couples I know they feel lucky to be together. So many of their friends are not.

The gentleman opened the door for his lady love and they entered the coffee shop. I gave them a big huge smile, they just looked so darn cute. I couldn't help it. The man gave me a half smile, then looked at me more closely. He was probably wondering who the heck I was. (do I know her? I could hear him thinking)
Feeling a little embarrassed, I blurted out. "You look so cute. You're wearing blue and she's wearing pink."
I guess he was more on the ball than I gave him credit for. Without missing a beat he replied, " Well I guess then I'm a boy and she's a girl."
We both laughed and as they turned away I heard the dear woman say to her husband "What did she say?"
Guess she had trouble hearing and missed the whole thing.

Running away...

2011-06-28T19:23:00.001-04:00

.....to the ocean is what I seem to be doing this year.

Last September I went to the ocean in Cape Cod. In March I went to St. Maarten, this past May I went to Bimini, which is in the Bahamas so I could swim with dolphins in the wild. I flipped and flopped weeks before making my decision. Could I really afford to take another trip? Was I just running away from life, from my problems, my pain and grief?

I went anyway. And had a wonderful time.

"What better place to run?" asked Peggy incredulously, "especially if you're looking for healing." Peggy lived in Arizona. She was about my age and a grandma too. We hit it off right from the start.
Immediately I felt better. I stopped scolding myself for indulging. Stopped chastising myself for "running away". Perhaps taking a break is a better way to look at this.
Why not just take some time to relax and drink in the power of the ocean, snorkel and swim with dolphins in the wild, and make new friends while I'm at it? Why not indeed? Life is meant to be lived, so why not enjoy it?

"Surreal," murmured Toni (another new friend) who was standing beside me on board the catamaran appropriately named DolphinQuest.
Surreal, I thought, liking the sound of that word as I gazed all around at endless blue; blue sea and blue sky; where only a thin line defined the horizon.

It was a strange feeling, as if there was no world beyond our boat. We were all alone here in this blending together of ocean and sky.

And then the dolphins appeared. Swimming, frolicking, rolling and tumbling, they seemed only to live for the spreading of joy. There were two of them, then four, then a dozen! Eagerly, I donned my snorkeling gear and one by one, we slid off the boat and smoothly entered the water. (please take a few seconds and click on the video - you certainly don't have to watch it all. It will give you an idea of the dolphin experience, as it was taken at the Wildquest retreat).

The ocean was a beautiful shade of turquoise, and oh so clear. I could see bright green seaweed waving its long fingers, tropical fish bursting with colour: yellow, purple, and orange. They were beautiful and yet looked like they belonged in a child's colouring book! Even sand ripples that swept along the ocean floor were clearly visible, as were many shells, rocks and strange things I could not identify.

The dolphins, of course were the stars of the show. And they performed well. Two of them swam right under my belly! I could have reached out to touch them (but we are taught not to do that; they can approach us, but we should not touch them). Like children at play, they swam and splashed all around us, probably trying to figure out what these weird slow moving human-creatures were. There was no way we could keep up with them, so they lost interest and eventually swam away.

I made many friends on this week-long Retreat, met kindred spirits and felt nothing but support and encouragement on my path. I hope I was able to give as much as I received on this trip.

Early morning sunrise bathes the world a golden orange

Full moon in Bimini, May 17th. A full moon ceremony was part of this week's programme.

Annie

2011-06-18T16:43:00.001-04:00

A butterfly appeared one day a few weeks ago on Daughter's lawn, close to the foundation of their house.
The grandchildren wanted to care for her, so Mommy gently picked it up and put it in an old cardboard box. The grandchildren named her Annie. They put leaves and twigs inside the box to keep Annie comfortable.
Annie barely moved. We wondered if she was injured.

The children put ripe fruit in her box to tempt her appetite.
Mommy put sugar water in there as well.
Annie fluttered her wings gently, and hardly moved at all.

Mommy called around first to bird and animal rescue shelters (who could not help) and then the Insectarium. They were able to identify Annie. She was not a butterfly, but a moth. A hylophor cecropia - the biggest moth in North America.

I'd never seen one before. She really was big! The life cycle of the cecropia is only 7 - 10 days. The female lays around 300 eggs, then goes into a sort of dream-like state. The male continues on to fertilize as many as 3 females and then he too goes into a torpor. The adults do not eat (so much for the fruit, but it gave the children a sense of responsibility and they felt that they were taking good care of Annie).

We also learned by the size of her antennae that Annie was not a She - She was a He.
Five days later His life cycle ended.

Caravan day

2011-04-22T20:00:00.000-04:00

A year and a day after David was admitted to hospital, our home went up on the market. I felt my stomach twist a little as the Real Estate Agent drove the For Sale sign into my front lawn. Am I really moving? Can I leave these memories behind? Last April seems like such a long time ago, and only just yesterday. It was last April that David was taken to hospital and never came home.

This morning our home was put on Caravan, which sounds like a rather strange occurrence, but is just a term real estate agents use to show off new listings on the market. All agents are provided with a list of homes to be viewed on Caravan. My home was scheduled for 9:00 a.m., first one on the list.

Well, for some reason I did not want to stay. I had to get out. I could not face all those people walking through our house, making comments. Not that they wouldn't be pleasant or professional. I'm sure they were. And not because the house was messy. It wasn't. I had cleaned and polished and aired. I even sent the cat outdoors, out of the way.

I had some errands to run anyway, so left the house early. And then I remembered that the bank wasn't yet open. Darn! I would have to start at the last stop and work backwards. And what would my last stop be, all you blogging buddies who know me so well?? Coffee. Of course.

I started at the end and picked up a coffee at Tim Hortons. It was still rather early. I had lots of time, so instead of taking the highway back, I decided to meander along the scenic route towards the village, grocery store and bank. Driving leisurely along the river road is always a pleasure. It reminds me of the days David and I used to bike that route. I would peek into peoples' gardens admiring their pretty flowers, while David would enjoy listening to birdsong. He'd be the first to notice a bluejay or a cardinal or a fat robin poking in the grass. He was always the first to hear geese honking as they migrated each winter or returned in the spring. He'd watch for that familiar V in the sky, excitedly pointing upward to share his find with me. Canada geese seemed to hold a special place in David's heart and the artwork in our home reflected this fondness. The natural world was important to David and he paid attention to all her signs and listened as she spoke.

Cool, fresh air poured through my open car window, and as bright morning sun warmed my face I began to relax. The road was rather long and winding with no traffic to speak of, so I took my time. The landscape had changed over the years. New homes were under construction on the waterfront, sadly taking over the agricultural part of the land. Cows grazed in the fields next door, making for a strange hodgepodge of granite and grass. Cheerful spring flowers scattered lawns and sprinkled over into ditches. I found myself both lulled and pulled along by the song of the river.

I had to go back the next day to take this. Luckily the geese were still there.

Then all of a sudden I was looking into a soccer field that dipped down towards the river. Oh my goodness, Thompson Park! I had not thought where this road would take me; my only thoughts were on the end point - reaching the village. Thompson Park was the place where we had scattered David's ashes nine months ago. Not in the park, of course. The park part is a soccer field, with the land sloping down to the water. I might have driven right past, if not for the geese. Canada geese, here in the park! I'd never seen Canada geese in that park before.

I quickly pulled over and parked the car. With my coffee mug in hand and the sun on my face, I drank in the scene before me.

"David, you did it again! You sent these geese to me as a comfort. You knew I was nervous about people going through our home and you wanted me to know you were here, by my side, supporting me. Ha! And you even made sure I'd had my coffee with me too!"

Good thing nobody was about to witness this crazy lady talking to the geese (or herself, which is probably worse)!

This too was taken the next day. Too bad the sun was not out!

Just as the soft rains......

2011-04-04T09:28:00.000-04:00

fill the streams,
pour into the rivers,
and join together into the oceans,

So may the Power of
every moment of your Goodness,
flow forth to awaken and Heal all beings,

those here now,
those gone before,
those yet to come.... (beginning of a Buddhist prayer)

I love to try to capture Sunlight...

as it illuminates each flower and leaf.

But you can never really capture the essence of the Sun.

The cycle of Life continues.....
as once again, the Sun warms the Earth for a time of renewal....

Happy Birthday, dear David.
Though your Earthly life is done, I continue to feel your blessings, and pray you feel mine.

Harsh Realities....

2011-04-01T11:07:00.000-04:00

It's been almost nine months since David passed away.
I was sitting in his favourite comfy chair by the window, reading the morning papers. I had been up most of the night with a stomach bug, so was taking it easy that morning just a couple of days ago.

Grief still comes in waves. I can be fine for a while and then some trigger or sometimes even nothing I can put my finger on, brings out a fresh round of tears.

The telephone rang. Do I get up to answer or just let it ring?
"Hello?"
"May I speak to Dr. Nelligan, please?"
"Um... may I ask who is calling?"
"Are you his wife?"
"Yes."
"This is Lily from Blaa Blaa Pharmaceuticals. Dr. I-forget-his-name would like to know if Dr. Nelligan plans to attend the upcoming symposium on such-and-such a new drug"
"Oh" (pause, while I choose my words)
"Oh, Mrs. Nelligan, is he already planning to attend? In that case, sorry to have disturbed you." (don't I wish!)
"No, Dr. Nelligan died last summer."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"I thought the medical community would have been aware of this. His obituary was published in the medical journals."
"Our mistake. I don't think you will be hearing from us again."

I certainly hope not, I thought, but did not say. I guess this young lady was just doing her job, but she didn't sound the least bit sorry, nor did it occur to her that saying "I don't think you will be hearing from us again." sounded more like "well, you know, we might call you back next year if we forget that your husband died."

Some days this incident would have lingered for a few moments then let go. That day it hurt. Probably because I was not feeling well.

Looking out the window to distract myself, I noticed the familiar V-formation of Canada geese flying home, signaling the return of spring and warmer weather.
"Welcome home" I called out to them with a smile. And then continuing my conversation with the air or the cat or the window, "Ahh, David, I see you sent geese to cheer me up. We always loved to watch the geese returning home after a long and cold winter."

I suppose this type of phone call will continue until I move and change my phone number. And I'm sure others have stories similar to mine or worse. But it always seems to come at a time when you're unprepared.

You asked for it!

2011-03-18T19:49:00.000-04:00

Imagine - I actually asked a stranger to take my pic. I've never done that before, but wanted a memory of this vacation. It's very hard to see my beaded hair.

So tonight, I took my own pic. Not very flattering, but you can see the beaded hair. I only got a few on each side. Tomorrow, I will wash it out.

Ibis (or egret, I'm not sure) fishing in the early morning.

Shoreline

Lots of boats here

Can't you just feel the spray on your face?

The market place in Marigot (capital on the French Side)

More boats

Cruise ships in harbour

Good- bye, St. Maarten!

The Power of Choice

2011-03-16T20:03:00.003-04:00

I was at the bottom of the well.
Crying.
I was stuck. It had been going on for too long; so I came to a decision.
I Chose to leave those tears behind, pick myself up and fly away.
South. Where the energies are warm and strong.

I Chose Travel, rather than Drowning.

"Who did you go with?"
"Nobody... just me."
"Ohhhh, you're brave."
"No, I"m not."

I Chose to travel alone, rather than wait for somebody, anybody to go with me.
I Chose my own time.
I Chose my vacation, and went to Sint Maarten, the Dutch side of the island (the other side is French).

It did me the world of good.

I listened to the timeless rhythm of ocean waves; their gentle voices reaching out to soothe my soul.

I allowed the softness of sweet ocean air to caress my skin; its tenderness a balm for raw, sore nerves.

I waited expectantly every morning for the peachy-golden glow of a Caribbean sun to wake up the earth. As the softness of first light transformed into the passion of a strong and fiery yellow sun, I relaxed into that heat; the warmth spreading throughout my body, awakening a faint stirring of joy. A feeling I thought had been lost, buried, forgotten; a subtle shimmering from somewhere deep within my being.

"Braid your hair, Miss?"
I blinked. Sat up in my chair. Where had she come from? Wasn't it rather early to be working the beach?
I looked around. There were more people here now. Had I fallen asleep? I looked at my watch. It had stopped.

The brightly clad, plumpish Island woman looked at me curiously. She was waiting for my answer.
"No thanks," I started to say, sinking back into my beach chair. Then I changed my mind. And sat back up.
"Yes, I'd like my hair braided. Let's do it!"
"Welcome to Sint Maarten!" she sang with a friendly smile and a swish of her skirts. She plunked herself down, reached into her bag and brought out a multitude of coloured beads for me to Choose.

I Chose pink and white and blue beads.
I Chose to lighten up and have fun.
I Chose to open up and breathe.
I Chose Life.

The Power of One

2011-02-20T21:17:00.003-05:00

One teardrop glistening down the windowpane.

One butterfly perched on the back of a garden chair, the day after David died.

One bloom on my mother's hibiscus plant. I was presented with this lipstick pink bloom on Mom's birthday a number of years ago. It hadn't bloomed in the two years previous and hasn't bloomed since.

One chickadee at my feeder. As you know I haven't had any birds at my feeders this winter.

The other night I had gone to bed obsessing about wanting, needing to dream of David. I had read that if you focus on a person before going to sleep, you will dream about him/her. Makes sense, however I was so obsessed with forcing my thoughts back into our memory bank, that I prevented myself from falling asleep, my mind going round and round in circles. And the dream never came, of course. So, I made up my mind in the morning,as I took my cup of coffee over to the window, to just let things happen naturally, in the time they are meant to. With that thought in mind, the chickadee appeared! That was February 4th and I haven't seen any since.

One person living in
One house
One person driving
One car
One place setting at the kitchen table
Cooking for One

One can mean aching Loneliness; a river of tears washing down grief-stricken cheeks. Sad, alone, empty, unbearably quiet, echoing rooms.

Yet One can mean Solitude, getting-to-know-oneself in the depth of that stillness, a time of reflection, of learning to stand alone, of listening to the gentle inner voice of....One being.

A Dinner To Remember

2011-02-13T09:27:00.002-05:00

Valentine's Day will soon be here. Memory takes me back to another Valentine's Day about a year or so after David and I were married.

Always the romantic, David decided to take me to an elegant restaurant for the occasion. So we dressed up, hopped in the car and drove up the mountain to Auberge des Gallant, a well known, but rather secluded Inn at the top of Rigaud mountain (which is not really a mountain, but a hill).

I was impressed by the massive stone fireplace in the lobby. Our table was not quite ready, so we decided to make ourselves comfortable in front of the roaring fire. A waiter brought us each a glass of rich-looking red wine to sip.

It wasn't long before a hostess appeared to take us to our table. We had requested a table by the window, since at this time of year the deer come out of the woods to feed. They come right up to the windows as food is put out especially for them, adding a uniqueness and charm to this restaurant.

Our waiter was very French, of course.
He set out tasty tidbits, a basket of bread, and water in crystal glasses.
Resisting an urge to pick up a tasty tidbit with my fingers, I politely stuck my fork and knife into what looked like a toast triangle.

That was the wrong thing to do! It was hard as toast usually is, and flew over David's shoulder to land on the floor! Thank goodness nobody was looking.

Surprised by the flying toast tidbit, David knocked over his wine glass. Fortunately it was almost empty, so he quickly put it right again.

By this time I thought I'd better be safe than sorry, so I chose an innocent-looking roll from the bread basket. It was crusty on the outside, but nice and soft and buttery on the inside. I'd just finished eating it when Monsieur Waiter appeared at our table with a whisk.
"Vous permittez, Madam?"
I was taken aback. Permit you do to what? I hesitated and then nodded my head, wondering if he was really going to sweep up the breadcrumbs I had carelessly spilled on the white linen table cloth.
He did.
David choked on his water.

Monsieur Waiter then asked for our orders.
"I'll have the duck," I decided, wanting to try something different.
"How would you like it cooked?" asked M.Waiter.
Again I hesitated. I didn't know there were different methods of cooking duck. Doesn't one just roast it?
"Sanguine?" asked Waiter.
I nodded again.
David gave me a funny look but then went on to give his order.

Le canard (the duck) was presented to me on a bed of rice surrounded by tender-crisp vegetables. It was rare. Eewwww. I could not eat it.
"Didn't you realize that when you ordered?" David asked me. "Send it back."
"No, no, it's o.k." I'd lost my appetite for it anyway. Just ate the vegetables and rice, which were very tasty.

A young couple sat down at the table behind me. I could hear M. Waiter asking what they'd like to eat. It was obvious they spoke no French, so the waiter had to speak English.
"Perhaps a salade, Madam?" he asked the lady. "A lettoose salade?"

David and I looked at each other, then quickly looked away, in case we burst out laughing.
Lettoooose? Lettoooose? What else would a salad be made of than lettuce?
O.K., it could have been cabbage, but that would be cole slaw. Or potato salad, or greek salad. But really it was the poor man's pronunciation that had us chuckling in our napkins.

Coffee arrived in delicate china cups. I picked up the silver cream pitcher and poured some into my coffee. It didn't look like cream; it looked like milk. A small sip confirmed my suspicion.
I asked M.Waiter for cream. He looked horrified.
"Non, Madam, we do not have cream."

Well, excuse me. I thought. Isn't this a French restaurant? Don't they put cream in all of their sauces? Well never mind. We stopped at Tim Horton's on the way home and picked up coffee to go - double double for David and just cream for me.

We had had a delightful evening and laughed about it for years.

Do Spirits Cry?

2011-02-07T20:19:00.002-05:00

I sat at my kitchen table one sunny morning a day or so ago, looking out the window into the snowy backyard. That window was new; a lovely and spacious bay window David and I had installed the winter before he died.
Looking through it is always bittersweet. Sweet memories, dreams now of our life the way it was, mixed with the bitter reality of loss.

The hedges surrounding our deck were laden with snow. There were no birds. A few icicles hung from the roof, but not many.

I have tulip bulbs sprouting in a glass dish on the window sill. The cat was curled up on a kitchen chair, napping in the warm February sunshine. It was unseasonably mild for this time of year and some of the snow was beginning to melt. I turned my face to the morning sun and began a conversation with David as I usually do.

Movement drew my eye to the window pane.

It was a lone drop of water, glistening in the sunlight.
It sat there for a second or two, then slowly trickled down the glass, like a tear drop running down somebody's cheek.

Where Are The Birds?

2011-01-28T18:31:00.000-05:00

I've been open, willing, and extremely happy to receive all the signs David has been sending me. "Proof" if you will that there is an Afterlife. "Proof" that energy does not die. "Proof" in our strong connection.

But there is one thing that puzzles me. Pulls at me.

There have been pens lying in the grass, butterflies sent to comfort my weeping soul, a hot spot on his side of our bed, just where David used to sit and sip tea before settling down to sleep, caterpillars curled up in the garden, playing "dead", but coming "alive" a few minutes later, and the Bird Story.

You remember the Bird Story. The one where I was looking after my grandchildren back in the summer. I'd just come into the house, to catch the childrens' show on television about the little bird who needed to fly free. He thanked the tearful child who had looked after him all winter, told the child he loved him, but now it was time for him to go and join the rest of the flock. To fly away to freedom. Sad, but a very important life lesson.

Then there was the hawk messenger. I had seen it flying from my back deck a week before David died. And then once again, in our meditation the night before……

My birthday weekend, I spent at the home of Firstborn Son and his family. They had invited me so I wouldn't be alone. Early morning, as is my custom, I took my cup of coffee over to the kitchen window to watch the day begin. It was still dark, but a hazy light allowed me to just make out the shape of a rabbit, nibbling something under their crab apple tree.

"We're Lucky Rabbits!" David was fond of saying. Even at the end. We were lucky to have each other. I was pleased with this "sign" on my birthday. Daughter-in-law, coming up behind me, took one look at that rabbit and had a different interpretation. "Fertility, isn't that what rabbits mean?" I choked on my coffee, but kept a straight face. "Hmmmmm," was all I said.

Not long afterwards, we were sitting around the breakfast table, when my eyes were drawn to movement in their backyard. Two cardinals perched on that crab apple tree. Then two more. Then a whole gathering! I was amazed! I had never seen so many cardinals all at once. They filled that tree. A message from David for sure. Later I looked up some facts about cardinals and read that they mate for life.

What's puzzling me, is the lack of birds in my own backyard. There have been none at all this winter. Our bird feeders are full. David used to enjoy sitting in his comfy chair by the window watching winter birds. We had finches, chickadees, some cardinals and blue jays, juncos, and woodpeckers in the trees. This year there are none. Every morning I watch for them. None. I've taken down the feeders, washed them, refilled them, but it changes nothing. They are full. Swinging eerily in the cold winter air. Not a bird in sight. How strange. Did David take the birds? Are they escorting him somewhere?

I was at my doctor's office (yes, it feels strange to be seeking the services of a physician for a sore thumb joint, when all I had to do before was ask hubby). My doctor is a very kind, patient, and compassionate person. I came for a minor problem and yet she took a good amount of time to sit and talk. To ask how I was doing. When I mentioned my enigma over the lack of birds in my backyard, she said, "yes, that's strange, but I had another patient who had that very same experience. The winter after her husband died, there were no birds at the feeders, or in their yard. The next year they all came back, but that first one, they were gone."

Ah, so I'm not going crazy, or somehow repelling the birds with my sorrow. They will be back, at least I hope so. Has anybody else heard of this?

My Christmas Present

2011-01-09T17:15:00.000-05:00

I did not want to do Christmas this year. But Christmas came anyway.
Christmas morning, I decided to go out for a walk. I was spending Christmas at my daughter's; the evening had been fun, especially watching the little ones opening their gifts. But this morning, I needed to be alone, so left them warm and cozy in front of the fireplace, toys strewn all over the floor.

I opened the front door to a cold morning. However, bits of sunshine were peaking through the clouds, so out I went. Not having a plan at all, I just walked, automatically turning my face towards the sun. After about 10 minutes or so, I realized I was in the neighbourhood of David's childhood home. Somehow my feet had taken me in that direction.

I stood on the sidewalk gawking at his childhood home. Taking some deep breaths of clear cold air I tried to absorb precious energy waves of Christmases long past. I imagined David as a little boy, opening Christmas presents, playing street hockey with friends, eating turkey with his family. David with a smile on his face looking out at the world with those sparkly brown eyes - the ones I'd fallen in love with.

There was nobody about, so I took my time. I wasn't quite sure what people would think of a middle-aged lady anchored to the sidewalk gazing at an ordinary house. Was she going to knock on the door? Or was she just going to stand there all day in the freezing cold?

Eventually I turned away. Probably should get back, I thought to myself. I'm getting cold and the kids must be wondering where I am. Ahhhh, but in the distance I could see the Lake, the sparkly, silvery Lake, luring me with its charm. What is it about water? Whether it is winter or summer, I feel the irresistible pull of a lake, river, or ocean. Just a little farther, they seem to say. And I'm never disappointed.

So I continued down the sidewalk all the way to the end of the street. Then the sidewalk ended in a footpath which led to the Lake. As I got closer to the water, I braced myself to be hit in the face with a cold gust of wind, but the air was still. The scene in front of me was beautiful in its serenity; snow-covered evergreens at the shoreline, silvery ice crystals adorning water's edge, soft clouds, calm water, all was quiet and peaceful.

Without warning the glorious Sun burst forth, transforming the soft greyness of the landscape into shimmering, shining gold. It was as if David had popped out of the clouds to greet me with a joyful:
"Hi Sweetheart, Merry Christmas! I was waiting for you to get here!"

I stood there absorbing the golden sunlight, feeling David's love and warmth enveloping me. What a nice Christmas gift! And well worth the long walk and cold toes.

Just then a dog ran up, startling me by rudely sticking its nose right between my legs! The owners were horrified, and called out an apology, but I just laughed and petted the dog.

"Ha! Still trying to get between my legs, are ya David?" Smiling to myself I started back towards Daughter's home.

Hope

2010-12-24T11:49:00.002-05:00

One thing I have learned on this journey, this steep and rocky path is to never give up hope. I did. Many times over the past few years of David's illness, I totally and completely gave up hope. He would never get better. There is no cure for lung disease. He would die.

And he did.

However, I watched him give up hope, only to find it somewhere else. A kiss, a cuddle, a smile, a shared memory, the voice of a grandchild over the phone. Life goes on until the candle flame goes out.

They advise you in palliative care to never give up hope. I used to get angry at that, for how can one hope when you know that death is certain? What good is hope?

Ah, but it's the focus of hope that shifts. You know there is no cure for the disease, that the end of life is near, so your "hope" shifts. You hope that the end will be peaceful. You hope your loved one will die in comfort and with dignity. You hope you will be there with him, and not at home or hastily picking up a sandwich in the coffee shop.

Until then, you go on living because that is what you know. David was in palliative care for just over two months. About a month into his stay, he mentioned to his doctor that his cataract was giving him more trouble than usual. An opthalmologist would be making rounds next week, how does that sound?

Inwardly I cringed. What on earth does he need an opthalmologist's consultation for? How much longer will he be alive? Does he really want to undergo a "procedure" at this stage of life?

It didn't matter for the opthalmologist did not come as scheduled, and would only be available next month. Too late in any case for David. I asked a friend of mine whose husband had passed away the year before. She said "well I guess they only know how to live, not die. My husband wanted to have all kinds of dental work done his last year of life; work he had been putting off for years. I went along with him - whatever floats your boat, honey. Maybe he wanted to die "whole". I don't know."

Two weeks before David died, his medical licence renewal came in the mail. As was our habit, I brought the mail to him every day. He looked up at me with a question in his eyes. I nodded my agreement, so he quietly wrote out a cheque, filled out the form, and handed the envelope for me to put into the mailbox.

He died a licenced physician - just as he had lived.

Wishing you and your loved ones a peaceful Holiday Season, filled with joy, hope and blessings.

Renovations

2010-12-17T19:46:00.002-05:00

I hired someone to paint (about 3 weeks ago), because I liked his name. It was Liam and I liked how that name just rolled off my tongue. He seemed to be a nice, upstanding young man; pleasant with a cheerful manner and an agreeable smile. However, his work was terrible! So I fired him.

My daughter advised me to call Mr. Experienced Handyman, a fellow recommended by a friend, who had painted their house a year or two ago.

So I called Mr. Experienced Handyman. He was not available right then, but could I wait about 5 days or so? Hmmm. Not the answer I wanted. When you're ready to have the house painted, you don't want to wait. Oh well, I guess so.

Three or four days later, I came down with a doozie of a cold, so put house painting and renovations on hold.

In the meantime, I thought I'd call around and find somebody local. Mr. Unexperienced Handyman came by to give me an estimate. He too was polite, but this time I was ready. "How would you fix this problem?" I asked pointing to some bumps in the wall that were obviously screws or joists protruding through. He looked a little unsure for a minute before happily providing what he thought would be the "right answer". It wasn't (I won't bore you with details).

I called somebody else. His name was Mr. Dude. Well, I'd learned not to judge a person by his name, so asked him to come by. He offered his renovation skills as well. Since I needed a sink and toilet replaced in the small downstairs bathroom, he gave me an estimate for that at the same time. But he could only come two weeks down the road.

I was starting to get frustrated. It seemed to be taking longer to choose a good worker than to actually have the work done!

I called Mr. Experienced Handyman back once again, since he'd done a decent job in my daughter's home. There was no answer and he didn't have an answering machine. Odd in this day and age.

In desperation I called a painter David and I had hired five years ago. He was very good, but rather pricey. And since I'm refreshing the house to put up for sale, I don't really want to spend a lot of money. Mr. Expensive did come over and just as I'd thought, his prices were more than I wanted to pay. But - he could come within a couple of days. Hmmmm.

A couple of days came and went and no Mr. Expensive. His "other job" would take another week to complete. Figures.

Decided against Mr. Dude installing the the sink and toilet, as somebody else, a Mr. Old Handyman-with-a-truck told me he would pick them up at the Home Depot instead of me paying a hefty delivery charge. Fine, good, but this guy doesn't paint.

However, when I went to Home Depot to choose a sink and matching toilet, the salesman told me they were the last ones in stock. Groan.... So I had the young man hoist them into my car and home I went. Once in the garage, it was easy to remove the sink (it comes in pieces) from my car but the toilet was heavy. I looked around to see if any of the neighbours were about. The couple across the street were in their driveway, along with some members of their family. However, it was their wedding day - definitely not a good day to ask one of those finely dressed guests to come over and help remove a toilet from my car.

Ever the resourceful one (or more likely the stubborn one), I eased the toilet from the trunk of the car onto a garden chair, which I had pushed over there to catch it. Otherswise, I'd be carrying a toilet around in my car for days on end. But now I have a toilet (in a box, of course) sitting in the garage in a garden chair. The sink is lying in pieces next to it.

And, I still need to hire a painter. I decided to call Mr. Dude. Could not find his number anywhere. Ah, but I had his email. Sent him an email telling him that the toilet and sink were installed (they were not as yet, but hopefully soon), so could he come and do the painting instead?

He did not answer my email. Is he mad? Who knows. This is business. Tough luck. I'll try Mr. Experienced Handyman-who-had-painted-for-my-daughter.

He was not home, of course, but this time his wife answered. Yippee - progress! I left him a message - could he come on Monday to do the painting?

Went upstairs to check my email. There was a message from Mr. Dude-who-was-not-installing-the-toilet, saying he'd be glad to come and do the painting on Monday if that was convenient.

Great, now I'll have everybody coming to my door at once. I'll have to call somebody back and cancel.
Sounds like a comedy show.
And with my luck, whoever I choose will probably not show up!

Stay tuned.......
Oh, and this is just the upstairs painting (2 bedrooms and a bathroom). Wait until I get the downstairs painted and carpets ripped up!

Old Codger....

2010-11-28T18:15:00.001-05:00

......or do you deliver?

Dismantling the house is tough.
All I wanted to do after David died was run. Run away. Go somewhere, anywhere. Keep busy. Frantic pace. Go, go, go. Anything to get away from the awful truth. That which I could not change.

And so I cleaned, I sorted, gave away, threw away and held a garage sale. My kids brought up all the junk from the basement and settled it into the garage.

One nice Saturday morning, in August, I got up at 5:00 a.m. and hauled all of the stuff out in the driveway. I did not think. I could not think. So I priced everything at $5.00. Tables, a television, old VCR, dressers, lazy-boy-chair, old tools (well they went for a dollar), electric leaf blower, weed trimmer, my old wood-working projects, bunches of knick-knacks, and old garden rakes, shovels and whatever else was down there. Most of it was sold. The rest I donated.

Then I looked around the living areas. What do I want to get rid of? What do I not want to drag to a new house? One of the first things I decided to let go of was the old stereo system. It still worked (somewhat), so I put ads up at my local grocery store.

A young music student wanted the ancient turntable and speakers. I sold them to her for $20.00. She did not want the rest of the unit. Hmmmm. Now what to do? The tuner and radio were alright, and the CD player was still decent, but without speakers.....
Then there was the stand. Even though it was made of pressed wood, it was still pretty good. I re-posted the ad, asking $15.00 for the stand. The rest I would figure out what to do with later on.

The telephone rang early in the evening.
"Hello? Is this the stereo stand?"
"Um, yes." I answered.
"Well, is it still available?"
"Yes, it is."
"What?"
"Yes!" This guy sounded really really old. I don't think he could hear very well.
"Oh good."
Silence.
"Yes..." I encouraged.
He coughed once or twice. Said something to somebody else who must have been in the same room. It sounded like "what do I tell her?"

"Ah, lady?"
"Yes, I'm still here"
"Could I come and look at it."
Gee, that's a tough one (LOL).
"Sure, when would you like to come over?"
This old codger mumbled something to his roommate. I guess they were conferring.
"Is it still $15.00?"
I hesitated. Actually, I'd forgotten what price I'd asked, since I'd priced and repriced so many items.
"That's what the ad says!" he sounded indignant and grumpy yet I hadn't answered his question.
"Then that's what the price is." I confirmed. "When would you like to come by?"
"O.K. I'll call you later." Click.

Two minutes later the phone rang again.
"Hello? Is this the stereo stand?"
"Um, yes."
"Ah...um...ah, I don't have a car. Do you deliver?"
I nearly dropped the phone. Do I deliver? Am I a store? A delivery service? For a fifteen dollar cabinet? Well, I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh. Told him I couldn't lift it into my car. He said he'd try to get somebody to help him.

No, this is not the end. There's more.
A few mornings later, I opened the door to see a very old man on my doorstep. He'd come by bicycle.
I just stared at him. I knew who he was because he had called earlier.
"You can't take this home by bicycle!"
"Oh, I know that, lady. I just came to look at it."
I was impressed. He had ridden his ancient bicycle about two miles to get to me and all the roads were uphill. Talk about perseverance and stamina! And he looked about 85 years old!

"Well, come in." I felt bad. I should have just lugged it into my car and delivered the dang thing. "Would you like some tea?" I asked him. It was a cool morning and I felt sorry for the old guy.
"Oh, no thanks, I have the flu."
Oh..... I took 2 steps away from him, as he coughed and blew his nose.

Long story short, he paid me the money, told me I'd miss this really good cabinet (gee, I don't think so) and arranged to pick it up later. Still feeling a little guilty at the old guy coming out when he was sick and on his bike too, I gave him the CD player and radio that went with it. He didn't want it, so gave it to his daughter-in-law, who was driving the pick-up truck.

Hope they enjoyed their treasures.

Where are you?

2010-11-17T17:25:00.003-05:00

I'm in the wind, I'm in the breeze
I'm in the flowers and in the trees
I'm all around; though you cannot see
Please don't weep. I'm still me.

I'm energy now, a beam of light
I watch over you day and night
I'm in your heart; can you not feel?
The depth of our love, does it not heal?

I scattered you at water's edge
Mindful of the rocky ledge
The lake was calm, the sky was blue
I saw a butterfly; then there were two
Please tell me that was you.

A pair of dragonflies, glistening wings
Dipping, dancing, shining things
Great heron swooped in to view
I saw another, making two
Once again - was that you?

Just close your eyes my love and feel
I'm not gone, I'm real as real
I've only changed, transformed as they say
I'll never leave you, I won't go away

I am the light that flickers in the hall
I am the shadow you see on the wall
I'm all around, though you cannot see
I'm not gone.
I am still me.

What does the sky look like?

2010-10-30T13:10:00.002-04:00

"What does the sky look like?" he asked as I walked into the kitchen.
I gave him a smile and turned around to plop our coffee down on the counter.

"Oh, a little cloudy, some patches of blue."

I was glad that my back was turned, as in truth I hadn't really noticed. Why did he ask me this question?

Logically it was probably because he hadn't ventured out of the house in the past 2 or 3 years. Or maybe he just wanted to know if we would be able to enjoy our morning coffee on the deck, soaking up the early summer sunshine. Some days even in summer, it might be too cool, especially if the sky was overcast. Or too windy and he'd have trouble catching his breath.

More than likely, he just wanted to have some sense of the outside world. A world he had almost left behind.
Now, I'll never know.

Every day after that, however, I made sure to look up at the sky as I was running errands, so I could tell him what it looked like. And as I became more aware of the sky, I also became more aware of our environment.

Over the years David would make a comment like: "There's an east wind blowing." And I would look at him as if to say, "Who cares?"
Now I take more notice.

I think that being aware of the ebb and flow of one's natural environment is to feel connected, and David must have needed the strength of that connection.

Sand pictures

2010-10-23T19:29:00.004-04:00

Does anybody know what this is? Let's ask Mr. Bunny.... too late, he's hopped away.

Well then, let's ask Jazzy. Oh, she's taking a nap.

How about Nathan? Do you know what that thing in the sand is?

Nope, he's too busy playing with trucks.

Let's ask the horseshoe crab.

Or Mistress Seaweed...

How about the little girl who made the sand picture?

Why it's a Sand Angel, of course.

Monster for supper?

2010-10-05T19:59:00.002-04:00

Ewwww - what's that, Mommy?
Lobster, Jasmine.
Monster?
No, lobster!

What are we going to do with it?
Eat it - it's for supper.
Nooooooooo!

What's wrong? Lobster is good. We only have this when we go to the ocean. It's a treat.

But... but....is the monster o.k., Mommy?

"Yes," said Mommy with a straight face. I couldn't help laughing out loud. How on earth could a cooked lobster be o.k., sitting on a dinner table in a pool of garlic butter, about to be devoured by a hungry family? Oh, the innocence of little ones.....

Dreams and pens..

2010-09-21T21:28:00.005-04:00

Night times are hard. The house is so quiet, so dark and still as I lie alone in bed trying to go to sleep. Before long, the inevitable tears flow, soaking my pillow. It's incredible how much I miss David's warm body next to mine. I still reach out to touch his pillow in the night.

"Please send me a dream," I entreat him, "so I know you are o.k. So I know you are not gone, not passed away, but passed within". This is an expression I heard from my on-line widows support group. Our loved ones have not passed away, they've passed within. I like that.

I did manage to fall asleep,and when I awoke in the early hours, a vague sense of having dreamed of David splashed across my brain. What was it? Ah, then I saw a picture of me in a boat. I don't know where I was going. I had a small child by the hand. Try as I would, I could not remember who this child was. I think it was a little boy. A grandchild? Nephew? One of my own boys? My husband as a child? Dreams are funny. Time does not run like it does here on earth. My children are grown now, but when I dream of them, often they are still toddlers, or teens. And I am the same age. A grandmother. So I don't know who this child was.

There was a stethoscope around my neck - David's. As most of you know, he had been a doctor in this life. A gentle and respected physician, who loved his work. Somebody on the boat addressed me as doctor. I was too weary to correct him (or her, I forget). Upon awakening, the message was clear. David was within. We are one.

It must seem a strange way to think, for someone who has not experienced the loss of a spouse, a partner, a lover. This "passing within" rather than "passing away." It's a deep feeling of love, centered in the heart. Both of my parents and my brother have passed away. I still feel a connection to them and dream about them from time to time, but there is a detachment, a feeling of letting them go. It's just not the same.

PEN STORY, PART II
Earlier in the month, I was back at the notary's office as there were more legalities to be sorted out. This time, I checked my purse at least 3 times to make sure I'd brought a good pen. I had. But just to be on the safe side, I reminded everyone right before the meeting began, to make sure they had their pens handy. The notary looked at me as if I had 5 heads. She had obviously forgotten our last meeting where nobody could find a pen (I was sure David had hidden them all). The financial advisor, who was sitting on my right side must have remembered, for he gave me a self-conscious smile.

The meeting began. A document was produced for me to sign. With a flourish I whipped out my pen, placed it on the paper and.....
nothing....but a scratch.
I could not believe it. David up to his tricks once again! If he couldn't hide the pens, then he'd just make sure mine didn't work! Ha! And I thought I'd been so smart, so prepared this time.

Good old Financial Advisor leaned forward and lent me his pen. It worked and I signed what was to become the first of quite a few documents that morning.

"You can keep it," he said with a smile.

A little birdie told me..

2010-08-19T20:22:00.002-04:00

Monday afternoon.

I had had a particularly lonely and grief-stricken weekend.
It seems I can go for a few days feeling fine and then - Wham! Out of nowhere I am overwhelmed with feelings of pain and loss.

Monday afternoon, I was babysitting my two grandchildren. Little Nathan was down for his nap. I had given him his bottle upstairs and gently placed him in his crib, sound asleep. His sister was sitting in the living room watching a childrens' program on television. Otherwise, I would be hearing "Grandma - where are you?" "Grandma - I have to go potty!" "Grandma - is Nathan sleeping yet?" So with the TV as distraction, Nathan could be put to sleep undisturbed.

Quietly, I closed the bedroom door. Made sure the baby monitor was turned on. Tiptoed downstairs. Peeked into the living room. Jasmine was totally absorbed in her show. Good. Went to the kitchen to heat up my coffee in the microwave. Just then the dog barked to go out. O.K., so I took my coffee to the patio door and let Whiskey out.

It was a beautiful day. Sun shining brightly. Sky a clear blue. Too nice to be sitting inside. So, I took a couple of minutes to walk barefoot in the backyard grass (no I did not step in dog poop). I just enjoyed the feel of grass on my bare toes, and talked to David as I always do. "Why are you gone? Why don't you come back? Where are you?" Silly questions, but I ask anyway.

Heard a chirping. Ignored it. The chirping did not go away. In fact it became louder and more persistent. So I looked around. A bright red cardinal sat chirping for all he was worth on a telephone wire. I watched him for a while. Looked for the female. Could not find her. Just him. Sitting chirping as if trying to tell me something.

Walked back in the house. Left the dog outside lying on the grass, chewing on a plastic dog toy. Peeked into the living room. Jazzy was just fine.

"Would you like some juice?"

"Yes, grandma."
"Yes, please," I instructed.
"Yes, please," she repeated.

Poured her some juice. Re-heated my coffee (I like it hot, even on a hot summer's day).

Finally ambled into the living room to sit on the sofa beside Jazzy, snuggling up to enjoy the closeness of her three-year-old body; but still conscious of the sharp pain of loss - knowing David and I will never snuggle up together again.

Enough focusing on the pain! (I admonished myself). Looked up at the TV screen to see what Jazzy was watching. Childrens shows are short, usually lasting 10 or 15 minutes, so I thought we'd watch one last one and then turn off the set. As it happened, a new show was just beginning.

It was about a little robin who was sad. He was looking out of the window in a child's room. The robin had been injured and the child had brought him home. But now he was well and longed to be outside.

The mother of the child walked into the room, sized up the situation, and told the little boy to let the robin fly free. He obediently opened the window and the robin flew out. But a few minutes later, the bird was back. He perched on the child's finger, told him thank you for your care, I'm sorry I have to leave, but I must fly free now. I love you.
"I love you too," replied the child.

The mother explained to the child that the robin was happy now. It had to feel the wind on its wings, join the other birds, build a nest and go on to a brand-new life.

Nice little story.

And then it hit me.

That story was meant for me. It was a message from David saying he was well and happy - flying free now. Thank you for helping me heal, but I must go on to a new life.

No, no, no, I argued with myself. I must be going nuts. How can that be?

It's the timing. The precision of the timing. I had just sat down at that precise moment to cuddle with Jasmine and look up at the television. Had I not let the dog out, heated my coffee, watched that bird, put Nathan down earlier or later, etc. etc., I would have missed that show.

It's always the timing that brings home the message.

Oh, and I wonder what the cardinal had been trying to tell me?

I wear his watch...

2010-07-19T21:05:00.003-04:00

...on my left wrist.
I sit in his place at the kitchen table, so I don't have to look at his empty chair.
I drink coffee from his favourite cup in the morning. The cup I used to bring him in hospital, to make him feel a little bit closer to home.
I carry his wallet in my purse.
I sleep in one of his t-shirts.

Over these past weeks, whenever I went to Tim Horton's I would buy a coffee for me and a coffee for him (double-double). Back home, I'd sit under the oak tree in our backyard where I have a candle burning to light his way. I'd carry on a conversation with David while sipping my own coffee. Then I'd pour his under the tree. I just could not bring myself to buy only one coffee. I had to buy David his coffee too. Even my children when coming to visit would bring me a coffee and one for David. It became a ritual; pouring David his coffee under the tree, so he would get it wherever he is.
But now I don't need to pour his coffee under the tree. When I sip my coffee, I feel we are sipping together, as if we are one.
Am I losing my grip on reality?

Maybe..... but I feel him....close to me.
Our love is our connection. Our bond. Our bridge from one world to the next.

David loved pens. There are oodles of pens in his desk drawers. Pens sitting in a coffee mug on a shelf next to the telephone. Pens in every pocket of every jacket. Pens lying on the surface of every coffee table in our home. When David and I would go shopping (that seems light years ago now) to a stationery store like Staples, he would head straight for the pens.
"David, don't you think we have enough pens? We must have a hundred or more at home. Why are you looking at more pens?" He'd just smile and head on over to that department anyway, leaving me to pick up whatever we had initially come into the store to buy.

I am sitting in the notary's office (here in Quebec, we use notaries rather than lawyers for real estate transactions, estate management, etc.) a few days after David's passing. His son-from-out-of-town was there too. As was my financial advisor. I was asked to sign a document. Opened my purse and started rummaging inside. No pen. I knew I had one in there. I always carry a pen with me. Looking up, I noticed that everyone was looking about for their pens. Nobody could find one. Finally, the very red-faced financial advisor stepped outside to ask his secretary for a pen.

Ha - I think David had hidden everyone's pens.

Three days ago, I was down by the lake where his ashes had been scattered. It was very peaceful with sailboats on the water, cool breezes caressing my face, ducks swimming among the rushes close to shore, and blue blue skies. I walked for a bit and then sat down on a rock under a willow tree.

After a while, I headed back through the grassy field towards the road where I'd parked my car. A melody floated through my head.
....let's go down to the river to pray.....

Oh, did I come here to pray? Hmmm. Maybe I should.
The morning of David's passing, I kept hearing a voice in my head saying "call the priest." So I asked the nurse to call him. When the Father arrived, he asked me to join him in saying the Lord's prayer.

That prayer came back to me as I walked that grassy field towards the car. And when I had finished, I looked down on the ground, and saw.....
lying in the grass...
a pen!

Finding comfort in nature..

2010-07-12T20:11:00.004-04:00

Opening to the morning light....

Reaching towards the afternoon sun...

The Natural world is full of healing if only we would notice. The shamrock (above) bloomed just a day or so ago. I didn't notice. I'd been too busy to pay attention. I had bought this plant for David just this past spring...

Before David's hospital admission, I looked out the front window to see a pair of ducks on our front lawn. There is no pond or water source nearby. It was quite a surprise. I looked up the meaning of Ducks in my Animal Speak book. Ducks bring emotional comfort and protection. I knew we were in for a rough ride.

One evening I happened to look out David's hospital window to the Healing Garden. There swimming on the pond was a pair of ducks. I never saw any more after that.

Sitting on my back deck one afternoon on one of my "days off" from the hospital, I looked up into the sky to see a hawk flying overhead. Now there are hawks in our neighbourhood, but I usually spot them towards the woods - never in my backyard.

The hawk is a "powerful bird that can awaken visionary power and lead you to your life purpose. It is the messenger bird, and wherever it shows up, pay attention. There is a message coming."

I was out walking the other morning, listening to birds as they sang and chirped. I was feeling lonely and sad. Suddenly a tiny brown bird flew down close to me. He (or she) settled on a low branch, looked at me and chirped out a greeting. I wonder.....

Three days after David's passing, I was once again sitting on my back deck. It was a beautiful day, but I was crying in grief and pain. All of a sudden, an orange and black butterfly flew down and perched on the chair next to me. I knew in my heart that it was David, telling me he was alright. I have read that when you see a butterfly, it is a Soul who has passed on coming to comfort the ones left behind.

David

2010-07-04T07:58:00.002-04:00

My dear David slipped quietly from this world with peace and dignity yesterday, July 3, 2010. As they say in the COPD world "He is breathing easy now..."

I awoke early this morning to feel waves of love and joy emanating from David's spirit. It was such a comfort, as I thought I'd be waking up in pain.

Yes, I feel sad. Yes, there are tears, but right now I know he is flying; he is lighter, having left his painful and worn out body behind.

I'm not ready

2010-06-28T18:16:00.004-04:00

Five weeks ago, the telephone rang just before 8:00 a.m.
I had just gotten out of the shower and was towel drying my hair.

"Hello, this is M.S. Hospital calling."
My heart sank. "Yes?" I managed to croak.

"Your husband is desaturating."
That meant his oxygen level in his blood was very low and if they were calling me, it was because they could not get it up to acceptable levels. Bad news.

"Is he conscious?" I asked.
"He's sleeping."

"I'll be right there."

My mind went into over-drive. He's in a coma and the nurse did not want to tell me. She did not answer my question, but just said he was sleeping. If his sats were that low, then of course they couldn't wake him up. And we all know there is no resuscitation in the palliative ward.

Is he alive? Will he still be there when I arrive?
"Please God." I prayed. "Not yet. Not yet."

Driving as fast as I could, my mind sending David signals.
"Don't go, yet, sweetie. We still have lots to say. Lots to do yet. I haven't given up hope of bringing you home!! Hang on. I'm coming."

I don't know how I managed to do it, but I missed the exit. How on earth could I do that? This car has been driving to the hospital for 3 weeks, doesn't it know the way all by itself?

And then a great wave of peace washed over me. If I missed the exit there is a reason. And there is nothing whatsoever I can do to stop or change whatever will be.

That peaceful feeling did not last long, as it took me an extra 20 minutes (on top of the usual hour) to get to the hospital. Frantically I parked the car. Slammed the door. Bolted up the stairs to the third floor. Passed the nursing station. Hmmm. Nobody there, that must be a good sign. Nobody to waylay me before I enter Hubby's room. Round the corner. Hubby's door is open. Hmmm. Another good sign. If it had been closed....

Tore open the curtain to see David lying in bed, looking a little groggy, but reading the newspaper! I ran over and gave him the biggest, most giganticist hug you can imagine.

He looked at me in surprise. "Am I dreaming? What are you doing here so early?"

Apparently his oxygen mask had fallen off sometime in the early morning hours. I don't know how long he was without oxygen, but when the day nurse came on duty, she saw David in bed, face a grey colour and his mask dangling over the edge of the bed. She put it back on and then got the oxymeter to measure the oxygen saturation in his blood. She told me at first she couldn't get a reading, so called for help. He was still breathing, so after a few minutes the oxygen reading was 50 (normal being from 90-100). The nurse told me it took an hour to get his sats back up to normal. They had to put extra oxygen on to do that.

What a scare for everybody.

His doctor sat on the bed and said "that was a close call, but it wasn't so bad, was it? There was no pain, no shortness of breath."

"But I'm not ready!" came Hubby's sharp retort.

David has had many close calls over the past few years. I sometimes think he is living on borrowed time (as the old saying goes). When I got home that night, I needed to write; as if drawn back into ancient times:

STANDING AT THE BRINK

He is standing at the edge of a Cliff.
Looking down.
Scared. Fearful.
"I do not want to go there."
And he steps back.

"Wife," he says on coming home, "I stood at the Brink today."
"I know," she murmurs, pulling loaves of fresh bread out of the oven.

Time passes.
Another Day.
He finds himself standing at the edge of the very same Cliff.
Looking down, he sees fierce-looking animals.
"No, I'm not going there."

Years before, in a dream he saw himself walking to the end of the Earth.
To the Brink. Where there was nothing but air below.
"I can't go there. I don't have wings to fly."
Just then an angel floated by. His father.
"Not yet," he sang to him, "not yet."

And so he went back home.
"Wife," he says, "I stood at the Brink today. There was nothing below. Just Air."
"I know," she murmurs, ladling out soup for their supper.
Night time. They are sleeping under the Stars.
Wife looks up into the night. And cries softly.
One of those Stars will soon be Husband.
She knows in her heart.
He rarely leaves the House anymore.

Once again He stands at the top of the Cliff. Afraid to look down.
But he knows he must. He's been here before. His body is showing him the way.

Looking down, he sees before him a black pit.
"No, I'm not going there."
And he steps back.
To let somebody else go.
Looking around, he sees many Souls taking the Leap.
Some take the plunge with strength and dignity; others hesitantly with fear.
Nobody returns.

Now there are people with him as he makes his way to the Cliff.
His footsteps grow heavy.
Second Son says "it's just the natural order of things".
"Have a safe passage" whispers a relative.
"We'll make you comfortable when it's time to go," chants the medicine man.
"Are you alright?" concerned friends ask.

"I'm not ready." he tells them all.

And goes home to his wife.
Where he finds her preparing his favourite foods. She knows that one day he will not come home for supper.
But every day she cooks.
Every day she waits for him.
Every day she listens for his footsteps.
Every day they sit down to eat.
"How are you?" she asks.
"I"m tired."
'I love you." her eyes go soft as she looks into his.
"I love you too." his eyes speak from his heart.

She knows his time is near; that one day he will not come home to her.
She knows it will be a time when there is nobody about.
Nobody to watch. No one to interfere.

He will slip away quietly in the early hours.

We look for the silver....

2010-06-09T20:48:00.004-04:00

....lining, as the old saying goes. The flowers strewn along our steep and rocky path. The diamonds in the rough.

As you can see, I've taken some time to reacquaint myself with a very good friend of mine - my camera. Out in the healing garden, I absorb the peaceful surroundings and lose myself in capturing a goldfish, a waterfall, spring flowers. How lucky we are to have this hidden paradise, this center of calm, amidst the harsh reality of disease.

David has been out in the healing garden 3 or 4 times since my last post. He tilts his face up to the sun and lets out a sigh of contentment. So relaxing, so nice to enjoy the warmth and healing golden rays. Some days he's too tired. Some days the weather is rainy, but on good days we go out. Just for half an hour more or less, but at least we have this time.

We've also made friends with the volunteers. They are truly incredible people. I did not know just how valuable to the hospital these dedicated souls are. There is one sweet gentleman with white hair who brings my husband his morning coffee and newspaper every day.
Every day.
He never takes a day off. He's always there. You will see him feeding elderly patients, pushing a wheelchair in the garden, accompanying someone to an outside appointment, fetching towels or soap for a bath. He does everything with a smile.

Another one is a wee, tiny little old lady (I'm sure she's 85 or so), who comes around every afternoon with the "snack cart."

"Tea, coffee, cookies, ice cream?"

I sometimes feel like a kid again at somebody's birthday party, being served cookies and ice cream. But she's a dear. And so tiny, she reminds me of a doll with her clear blue eyes and soft white hair.

Oh, and there's Spa Day.

Spa Day happens once a week.

The patient is taken from their bed and put right onto a bath stretcher, covered up with flannel sheets and wheeled down the hall to the Spa Room.

It's dark when you first enter the room.

Ah, but then you see the tiny tea lights glowing softly from the walls and shelves. These are made to look like candles (real candles being forbidden of course) lending a romantic atmosphere.

Champagne cooling in a silver bucket beckons invitingly from a shelf (no it's not real).

Lovely relaxing music plays in the background.

An ocean scene has been painted on the wall to give the illusion of being at the beach.

The bath stretcher is lowered into the tub. The patient doesn't even have to move. They just lie there, secured to the stretcher while fragrant warm water rushes into the tub. Luxuriant bubbles foam up around the person, as much for modesty as for fun, I think.

There is an oxygen outlet on the wall, so hubby can plug in. No worries. The staff are good. I sit nearby and watch. Hubby is fine. He's relaxed and soothed. It's such a treat that the nurses all joke that they need a Spa too!

"No, I'm next!" I joke along with them all.

And we laugh.

It feels good to laugh.

The Healing Garden

2010-05-29T23:58:00.002-04:00

I took this pic from Hubby's Room up on the third floor.

The ones below were taken just today, as I walked in the Healing Garden, a beautiful addition to this Hospital. I wish all hospitals had a garden as serene as this one.

It's been over a month since David's admission to Mount Sinai. He still hasn't made it outside yet. We have hopes to bring him out to the garden tomorrow, if all goes well. Just getting him into a wheelchair with 2 portable oxygen tanks is a major undertaking. But we did manage this today - only for 15 minutes in the hallways, but a good start.

I continue to feel like I'm in a twilight zone. David has his ups and downs (he had a major setback a week ago, which I will post about later).

I hate watching him die. I hate that his skin colour is so awful. I hate that he's so frail.

I wrote in a long-ago post "how can his body be deteriorating and yet his spirit shines so brightly through his eyes?" Well, now I know and I hate how the shining light in his eyes is fading.

Life is Strange...

2010-05-11T09:51:00.002-04:00

"The lines between us are blurry," says Hubby from his hospital bed.
I know what he means and I find it strange that at the end of his life, we are becoming closer.
How can that be?
There is a part of me that is letting go. I know it is time.
Holding on to someone as tightly as I've been to David cannot last forever.
At some point, there needs to be an uncoupling. A fork in the road. A time when he goes on his way and I, mine.

The letting go process actually started in the fall of 2008. I learned to give up control. Coming home to find the power off and hubby peacefully sleeping while the alarm on his oxygen concentrator screamed unmercifully, was the beginning of this important lesson. Had I been later coming home, Hubby might not be here today. But his journey is not mine to control.

In the spring of 2009, I took a "time out" and went off to Florida for a week. I let go of his care and allowed his son to take over for a while. Full of sand, sea and sun, my energy level was back; my balance restored. Unfortunately, during this short week, Hubby took a step down. Was it because I went away? I don't know. Did I feel guilty? Yes, at first. But then, do I control his illness? I think not.

Now, a year later, we've come to the top of the mountain. We both know this journey is coming to a close. We both know it is time to let go. We are lucky this process is so gradual. Others don't have time; they leave regrets, unfinished business, and final words of love unsaid.

And yet - we both feel this incredible closeness. This blurring of souls.
Maybe this always happens at the end of a life.
Maybe not.
I don't know.

With Hubby, the circumstances are such that right now he is practically helpless, lying in bed, attached to the oxygen hose. He wears a mask making it difficult to talk. So I am the interpreter. Nurses, health care workers, his doctor, even the priest who came to visit, all ask David a question, he mumbles a reply and then they look to me for clarification.
I'm still looking after his basic needs when I'm there, so of course we are close.

But what about me? I anticipate and fill his needs now bringing us this closeness, but what can he do for me?
He gets me to talk about myself. When asked "how was your day?" I usually give a brief account or sweep things under the rug, and then focus on the person asking the question. David has forced me to talk about myself. Essentially, he is living through me. He takes comfort in hearing all about my day with the grandkids, at the hairdresser, the garage, the grocery store, the library. Simple everyday life.
He asks about the progress of my book; encouraging me to continue with the publishing process - not to neglect myself or my work to focus solely on him.

Last week I took a day off to go to the dentist and the hairdresser. These appointments were long overdue. It was time. The weather was strange. Strong winds and rain. We even got hail. Then the sun came out. More rain and wind. More sun. I spent the whole day out, ending up at the garden center. Came home in time to pop a chicken in the oven for dinner - a little later than normal, but with nobody home, it doesn't matter.

I noticed then that clocks were all wrong. In a flash I realized that the power must have been off while I was out. I panicked! My heart flip-flopped in my chest.
Then I relaxed.
David is safe - he's in the hospital. Their generators keep the electricity going.

How strange to think Hubby is safe in palliative care. Palliative care is associated with death, not life.

The House is so quiet

2010-04-28T19:52:00.003-04:00

His heavy-duty oxygen concentrator lies sleeping in the hallway. One gets used to noisy machines, but once they're turned off, the quiet is unsettling.

David was admitted to the Palliative Care Floor at Mount Sinai Hospital yesterday. It was snowing. Very strange at this time of year, especially since we've had such a warm spring. Driving was a little freaky. They put him in the ambulance at the hospital, while I dashed to the parking lot, unlocked my car door, paid the exit fee and barrelled down the road, hoping to follow. A couple of blocks away I saw a yellow ambulance. Oh good - visibility was poor, so following a big yellow ambulance made my job easier - until it took a wrong turn.

Oops - my mistake - wrong ambulance. Good thing I knew where I was going and happened to end up at Mt. Sinai just as the Real Ambulance was arriving.

Things are much more relaxed. I can finally breathe a little bit, knowing he is receiving good care. The nurses are angels, the doctor - superb. Comfort is their goal and accommodation almost takes my breath away. I slept on a cot beside David's bed last night. Not too comfortable, but he slept like a baby all night. I wanted so badly to open a window, but they were sealed. Lights and noises kept me awake. I had not brought anything with me, so slept in one of David's T-shirts. Tonight I will sleep in my own bed, with the windows wide open. I hate being away from him, but really cannot sleep in the hospital.

I know this "letting go" process is a gradual one. I am learning to "let go" of his personal care. I need to let the nurses bathe him and look after him, particularly since I can't be there every day. The drive is about an hour. Twice as far as the active hospital. But I am wearing out. So I have to take a step back.

It feels like our paths are beginning to fork - he taking one and I the other. We can still see each other, still hold hands and kiss, still share coffee and meals, but I know it's time for him to move on.

I have come to realize that the human spirit is incredibly strong. I may have said it before (long ago when I first started blogging) that his body is crumbling, yet his spirit shines brightly and strongly through his eyes.

Most people would have left this Earth by now. But David's mind is still sharp. I bring him the mail and we open it together. He "instructs me" (as if I didn't know) on paying the bills and other household accounting. This keeps his mind active and busy and makes him feel as if he's still a part of Normal Life Out There. He wants to do some physio to gain back a little strength, so he can sit in a chair and hopefully stand up once again. I am humbled by the strength and fighting spirit he has.

As I drive home, I watch people doing everyday things: shopping, eating, walking. I speak to my children. "What can we do to help?" they ask. "Just tell me about your day. I need to know there is a Normal Life Out There somewhere".

I feel like I'm in..

2010-04-25T19:17:00.002-04:00

the Twilight zone these days.

After a 3 week period (back in March) of Hubby feeling increasingly weak and sick, I called an ambulance to take him to hospital. It was supposed to be for a couple of days only. A few tests, treatments, some medication and hopefully back home.
No way.
He's been in hospital ever since.
We're going on 18 days now.

What a nightmare. First the emergency ward. A horrible place to be for a night, never mind two. Hubby was put on wall oxygen using a "rebreather mask". In other words, a very high amount of oxygen and one we cannot duplicate at home.

The nightmare began when nurses decided to adjust his oxygen. No rhyme or reason, just felt they should turn it down. Definitely not good. Poor Hubby nearly passed out several times. On one occasion, somebody turned it off because it was too noisy.
I shrieked.
Tore open the curtain in the next cubicle (where hubby's oxygen was located), turned it back up and yelled "WHO TURNED OFF THE OXYGEN!??"
There was only the poor patient lying in bed and (get ready........) a cardiologist. Now I have no proof that it was this doctor who inadvertently turned the oxygen off, but there was nobody else there.

I marched up to the head nurse. Told her what happened. Told her I was not going to file an "incident report", but she should know what is happening in the E.R. Magically, hubby was moved to "overflow" the same day.

Overflow is a holding unit for patients awaiting admission. There was a little more privacy. More space to put things.
However - once again, the nurses took it upon themselves to "wean" hubby off his high power, what is supposed to be short term, oxygen consumption.

Nurse #1 took off this specialized mask and gave him the "prongs" (same kind we use at home). He then proceeded to turn the oxygen setting down from 15 to 6.
Once again I shrieked like a banshee!
"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM!!??"
"M'am, I know COPD. Don't worry."
"LIKE HELL YOU DO!"
"M'am, calm down, this is doctor's orders."
"WHICH DOCTOR?" I knew nobody had given him any such order.
No answer.
"WHICH DOCTOR TOLD YOU TO DO THIS?"
Still no answer.
"CALL RESPIRATORY THERAPY."
"I know what I'm doing."

Poor Hubby's oxygen sats descended like a stone. Before I could punch this nurse out, he realized he was doing something wrong. So he removed the prongs and put back the re-breather mask. Respiratory therapy arrived soon afterwards and I told the therapist what happened. She marched right over to this nurse and gave him "sh....".

The next day, Nurse #2 decided to do the same thing.
'NO WAY!" I bellowed at him.
He was more amenable - just turned his back and went on to another patient.
By this time I was beside myself. I felt I could not leave hubby for even an instant. The next day his respirologist came in and I told her what had been going on with the nurses. She was angry and wrote a note in the chart that NOBODY was to touch his oxygen. Finally!

There were a few more incidents, but I'm too tired to recount them. Now Hubby is moved to a ward and his care is much better.

My days are spent at the hospital. I do come home to sleep, even if it is fitful. Today I had to take a half a day off. I came home after lunch and slept the afternoon away. This evening I will go over bills and other paperwork that has been neglected.

Hubby is awaiting placement at Mount Sinai Hospital here in Montreal. If he comes home it will be a miracle. I keep hoping and praying, but the chances are slim.

Spring is in full bloom here. Leaves are coming to life. My garden is blooming. I brought Hubby some daffodils to put by his bedside.

Blogging break

2010-03-29T20:34:00.003-04:00

Hubby is going through a rough patch right now, so I won't be posting for a while.

I will still be around to visit. I enjoy reading your blogs as they lift my spirits and your friendship nourishes my soul.

Hope spring is coming in nicely for all of you.

Sunshine, shamrocks and spring!

2010-03-18T20:38:00.004-04:00

Dawn....waiting for sunrise.....most of the shamrocks still asleep....except for a few early risers.....

Here it comes! Here it comes.......cheering on the sun as it peeks above the horizon....
High noon......flowers bursting with joy.....basking in the glorious sunshine.

Dusk....shadows lengthen....flowers close in sleep.
Out for my morning walk a few days ago:

I saw a flock of geese flying high up in the sky, returning home after a long winter. I've been scanning the sky almost every day this month, to catch a glimpse and finally, finally, that familiar V-shape, happy honking, and welcome back, geese!

I smelled a skunk - yes, in the morning. It's unusual to smell a skunk that early in the day. More likely that cloying smell stinks up the air (yuk!) in the evening or night (we all know that skunks are nocturnal creatures).

I heard a fly buzz by my ear. Really. Did not see it. But hey, I'll welcome a fly. That means that the bees are not far behind.

And all this sensual stimulation the space of a minute and a half.

Spring must be here!

Conversations.......

2010-03-13T20:51:00.003-05:00

"Ahhhhhhh - this is soooooo nice. Being kissed by the sun!"
I overheard my shamrock plant talking to Sunkist tulips: "Did you know St. Paddy's day is just around the corner?"
"How could I not? You remind me every day! I do hope some bluebirds find that birdhouse over there and build a nest inside. I don't remember seeing any last year, did you Tessa?" "We weren't here last year, Tilly."

Why didn't I just ask, a number of my blogger buddies commented on my Pampering post a few posts ago.

Ask what? What kind of nice-smelling massage oil the masseuse was using on me. Good question, why didn't I just ask? Well if I had, then of course, there wouldn't be any story, would there?

But then you have to imagine yourself stretched out on the table. Soft music playing in the background. Body nice and warm under the sheets. Gentle, yet firm pressure over your shoulders by Ms. Massage-Lady ( I don't remember her name). Feeling drowsy........ Ooooo - this is nice. Tension melting away.......Body relaxing............Ummm - nice fragrance. Smells spring-like. No grass-like. No sort of lemony. Ah, who cares........relaxing into table a little more. Oooo.... that.... feels...... good. Where was I? What was I thinking about??? Oh, the music's changed........ where have I heard that piece before? It's sooooo soooooothing....... Sounds familiar..... but where? Ah, who cares........

I think you get the picture. Tooooooo much effort to open the mouth and speak. Or coordinate the brain in the first place ...........to find the words. And even so, I'd probably forget the name of that wonderful smelling massage oil the moment the name left her lips......lips.......did somebody say tu-lips?

Ahhhhh......that warm, caressing sun.....

Yippeeeeeee!!

2010-03-10T20:01:00.003-05:00

I have heard from a book publisher!
They want to publish my book!!!

Yippeeeeee - I am over the moon!!!

I started writing Reading Between The Lines about 15 years ago. Put it down, picked it up, life happened, etc. etc. Send it off to a publisher 9 years ago. Got rejected. Sent it off to another one. Got rejected. Gave up. Thought I'd send it off to an agent instead. Might work better. No - did not. Sent it off to another one, two, three. Got rejected again. Gave up.

Over the past year, I'd begun looking at publishers once again.
Well, yesterday, I got the good news! It will take time.
My book will come out in about a year and a half.
But the process has begun!
I am sooooooo happy!!

I started writing articles on palmistry for The Journal of Alternative Therapies, here in Montreal. I wrote some more for Everchanging Magazine in Burlington, Vermont. After a while, I decided to put all these articles together into a book. It did not sound right, so I did a lot of editing, and changing. I grew along with the book.

This is a healing book; a book of my experiences reading people and helping them along their pathway.
Will keep everyone posted.
Yippeeeeeee!

Pampering.....

2010-03-02T19:42:00.003-05:00

Sweet hyacinth, beginning to open.

That was then......

Today she is in full bloom, gossiping with the daffys.
Thought I could use a massage last week. Needed a little pampering (don't we all at this time of year?)

There was a "special" on at my local beauty parlor (does anybody else still use that antiquated word? LOL! ) So I took advantage and booked an afternoon of luxury.

The masseuse was a young girl.
Hmmmm.
She was thin - very thin.
Hmmmm - not much muscle power.
"Come right in," she instructed, leading me into a serene, fragrant-smelling, candle-lit, room. Soft music was playing and the lighting was subdued.

Ahhhh - definitely relaxing.
After peeling off my clothes, I bounced up on the table, and scrunched under the sheets. I wiggled around to find a comfortable position for my face. One thing I absolutely hate is having your face in that doughnut-shaped ring. It feels anything but relaxing. A few minutes later, she knocked softly on the door and entered the room.

It's been a couple of years since I had my last massage so I was pleasantly surprised when she began by touching me on top of the sheet, rather than ripping it away with a flourish, like a magician ripping off a tablecloth to reveal rabbits hopping around, or doves ready to take flight. I always feel rather vulnerable lying there unclothed in a face-down position on the table, as if I'm about to be served for someone's dinner.

Despite my misgivings, she was good. I enjoyed the massage. And she used a light, fresh smelling lotion that reminded me of spring grass or a meadow.

The hour went by quickly and soothingly (is that a word?). While pulling on my clothes, I figured I'd take a peek around to see if I could find that fresh, spring-like lotion. I wanted to know what it was, so I could go out and buy it.
Hmmmmm. Not in sight.
Not on the shelves - they only held candles and some pretty coloured stones.
Not under the massage table.
Any hidey-drawers? Nope.
Ah - another shelf on the far side of the room beside the other massage table.(She had put me in a "couples" massage room. I guess the regular rooms were all taken). There were 2 big lotion bottles on that shelf. But surely, she wouldn't have taken lotion from across the room?

Pumped the first bottle. Nothing. Did not smell at all.
Pumped the second bottle. Eewwww - some pepperminty stuff. I like peppermint, but this stuff was really STRONG - and mixed with some other strong stuff. Really overpowering.

Eeewwwww - I rubbed my hands over my pants trying to get rid of it. Not too smart - won't get rid of it that way. Eewwwww - I have to get rid of this stuff! She'll know instantly that I've been snooping! Wiped my hands vigorously on the sheets that were covering me earlier. Ewwww - still there. Could not get rid of that smell! Maybe a towel. Took one from under the table. Ewwww - still there.

Well, I have to leave the room sometime! She's waiting outside for me to pay my bill. Ah, there's some hand sanitizer. I'll try that.
Didn't work.
So, I poked my head outside the door. Nobody. Good. Ran to the washroom.
Held my hands under the tap and soaped and soaped until the smell was gone.
Whew!
Then serenely paid my bill and left.

Winter isn't over yet!

2010-02-24T19:59:00.005-05:00

Look who was foraging for food on my back deck. Yes you! What are you doing up and about? Does this mean spring is here?

No such luck.

Snow, snow and more snow today.

The house across the street. Ah well, I don't really mind. It is rather pretty - and March is almost here. Still winter in these parts, but we've had a good one, so far.
I know that hasn't been the case for my neighbours south of here. Florida, Texas and other parts of the world have had an unusually cold winter.

The days are getting longer and if little chipmunks come out of hibernation to run on the snowbanks, then deep inside the Earth, life is beginning to wake up.

Update: We are not moving. Hubby nearly had a panic attack when I approached him seriously with my plans. I did not realize how someone in his position would be clinging so tightly to familiar territory. As long as he has his familiar surroundings to hold on to, he feels somewhat secure and in control. To take that away from him would be like sinking his lifeboat. I had no idea.

So, we will hire people to do the heavy work that I cannot. I am relieved in some ways. A couple of days before this snowfall, I was looking in the garden (up against the south side of the house) to see if any little crocus shoots had come up. I know it is way too early, but since it has been warm.... Then I thought of missing this. And of all the space we do have to live in. The privacy of our back yard. Our big outdoor deck. One day I will leave it all....... but not yet.

Mistress Mousey.....

2010-02-14T20:29:00.002-05:00

.......popped into say:
"Have a very nice Valentine's Day!" Sister Rose's face all aglow...
Hopes that no-one will push her in the snow!

Pink and yellow

Red and green

Loveliest roses

I've ever seen! (green refers to the foliage)

O.K., so a poet, I'm not. It was fun anyway - just to see what would rhyme.

Hope everyone had a nice Valentine's Day.

Update: thank you all for your concern and good advice.

I am looking into retirement homes. One that has particularly caught my eye, is for autonomous seniors. The units are apartments with full kitchen. There is an emergency call button in each room. And a nurse on the premises at all times. The activities sound wonderful (for me). Location is a block or two away from the general hospital.

However, the units are quite small (read: very small). And the rental cost per month is quite expensive.

At this point I am just gathering information. Hubby is not too pleased, but I told him I would not force him into anything (read: this will take time to accept). The reality is, we need to make changes in our lifestyle, as I can't go on like this forever.

Mid-winter blues

2010-02-07T19:48:00.003-05:00

Looking to capture the sunlight as it shines on my kitchen-window flowers.
Sunlight kissing the tulip's lips.

Winter plods along. It's cold, but that's normal. The strange thing is, we don't have much snow this year. Which is bad and good. Good because who wants tons of snow? (except skiers, of course). I'd rather less snow to melt when the weather warms up.

Bad - because not much snow means not much insulation for our water drainage hose (buried under the front lawn). And that means a frozen hose, so water backs up into the basement.

This water we're talking about is coming from our water softener, which drains into the sump pump. Now the sump pump's job is to pump out water before it backs up into the house. Normally it does a good job. But with ice freezing the connecting hose to the outside, there is nowhere for water to go. Like hitting a brick wall. It splats all over the basement floor.

I discovered it this morning, while going into the basement to check on the furnace humidifier. The day before, I had gone downstairs for something, only to walk into a huge puddle in the furnace room. The humidifier hose had become blocked with sediment from our water supply.

Well, I dealt with this 2 years ago, so I just turned off the furnace, changed the filter, poured a mixture of vinegar and water down the blocked hose, cleaned up the mess and turned the heat back on. All this while Hubby was sleeping peacefully.

Now this mess in the sump pump room! The only solution, for now, is to turn off the water softener. We'll just have to do without "softened" water. When the earth warms up next month, things should thaw out and our "water in the basement" problems over for a while.

I must say I was thoroughly discouraged this weekend. I feel overwhelmed (oh, I also lugged the heavy dehumidifier up the stairs, one step at a time, from the basement into the garage, since there seems to be water in there too. What is it with water in this house??).

Told Hubby it was time to move into an apartment. I just can't cope with everything on my own all the time. He just nodded. No argument. He's probably hoping that as time goes on and the nice weather comes, I'll forget all about it. Well maybe. But I think it's time we simplified our lives.

New Life...

2010-01-30T20:35:00.004-05:00

New babies stretching towards the light...

A little one on the way.....

She's here! Isn't she looovely.....

Peek-a-boo!

A surprise in the garage! This petunia was my favourite. I took so many pics of her last summer and right into the fall. I could not let her go when the outside temps got cold. So I put her in the garage just to see what would happen. Did not expect anything. Over the years, I'd tried to overwinter impatiens, geraniums, and other annuals by placing them indoors in a bright sunny south-facing window. They'd be fine for a little while, but eventually would all die.

So imagine my delight when I discovered these 3 blooms! It's quite cool in our garage and the light comes from a north window, so I don't really understand why this plant would bloom. But never mind - I'll take it!

Squirrel antics

2010-01-22T21:11:00.002-05:00

Trying to keep squirrels away from birdfeeders is practically impossible. I read in a magazine that if you hung your birdfeeder on a clothesline between a couple of empty plastic soft drink bottles, the squirrels would not be able to reach it. Once they put their little paws onto the bottle, it would spin around like crazy, causing them to fall off the line.

Maybe this will work!

Ah ha - this bottle doesn't turn. I think it's frozen.

Success! As if a few little plastic thingys could stop me! Ha!

Looks like the squirrel won this round. Next time I try this, I'll make sure I have 2 big soda bottles. That small water bottle didn't work. The squirrel jumped right over it, and it was partially frozen to the clothesline anyway.

Living on the Edge...

2010-01-18T15:47:00.003-05:00

Front view... (awk - I just woke up!)

Back...({{sigh}} - do you think it will ever melt?)

Curly edges....

Notched edge....(you can barely see the notch, but it's there)

Many tall and frazzley edges....

Sharp edge....

Couldn't make it through January without spring flowers on my kitchen windowsill.

Actually, we've had a mild winter so far (keeping fingers and toes crossed). How about you?

Going "Green"...

2010-01-06T17:50:00.003-05:00

Pulled into the self-serve gas station.
Put my credit card into the appropriate slot on the gas pump.
Pushed all the appropriate buttons (do I want a receipt? Yes).
Withdrew my card.
Unscrewed my gas cap.
Now to select a grade of gas.

Oh cool - a gas nozzle with a green handle. I'll pick that one. Maybe gas stations have decided to "go green". Now how would that work??

Tried to fit the green-handled nozzle into the gas tank opening in my car.
It did not fit.
What's wrong with this thing? Have they switched gas pump specifications or something??

Looked more closely at the "green-handled" pump and realized it said DIESEL in big letters!
Oops - no wonder the nozzle wouldn't fit in my car. It's a safety measure for people like me who don't bother to read what's on the pumps, but go for the pretty colours - in this case - Green!

Good thing too, as I'd have filled my tank with diesel gas!!

p.s. - still having computer problems and still trying to find my blogroll.

Icy stormy night..

2009-12-28T18:17:00.010-05:00

Somewhere around 11:30 at night......sleepy, drifting, cuddled up to Hubby. Wind picking up outside our bedroom window, freezing rain knocking against the pane. A loud CRACK! Frozen tree branches hitting the roof before bouncing onto the ground.

"Who's walking on our roof?" Hubby asked sleepily.

"Santa's reindeer," I murmured, nuzzling the back of his neck.

Delicious sleep washing over me like waves. But something was nagging.

Go away!

Somewhere in the very back of my mind, I could feel something swimming through the fog trying to get my attention.

I was tired from all the Christmas busy-ness. Happy for the celebration and happy it was over.

Sleep was inviting, beckoning. Hubby was already in dreamland. It does not take him long...

The wind was howling. Did I leave a window open? Not likely in this weather. Something was still tugging at my consciousness. Would not leave me alone. I could hear "it" screaming. Screaming? Piercing shriek? An alarm? Yikes! Suddenly I was up like a shot!

No power! I should have known! That loud crack may have been a branch, but could have been a hydro wire snapping in the storm.

And no electricity meant no oxygen for Hubby. In a flash, I turned on the portable oxygen cylinder (which lies like a sleeping dog curled up on the floor beside our bed), popped the cannula up his nose and then took off downstairs to turn off that screaming alarm. I pulled the plastic tubing out of the now silent (and useless) oxygen concentrator, and reconnected it to a humongous cylinder hidden away in our dusty basement.

Fortunately, the oxygen company had just filled it the week before, so it would last the whole night through, if needed. While I was downstairs, I called hydro on the phone to find out how long this power failure would last. Then went back to bed. And changed Hubby's nose hoses (exchanged the smaller portable one for the long-lasting one).

Hubby was drifting off again, but by this time I was wired. I could not go back to sleep. What would happen if I did not hear that alarm?

I'd been taking sleeping medication over the past month, which would account for the deeper quality of my sleep; my brain sinking into sweet oblivion, instead of jumping at every little sound. But never, in the wilds of my imagination, did I think it would be possible to NOT hear that shrieking alarm.

If we had both gone to sleep with no electricity in the house, Hubby would not have woken up in the morning.

Guaranteed.

The wind continued to howl.

Once more during the night our power went off.

I connected nose hoses and machines and disconnected nose hoses and machines. And then did everything in reverse.

I did not get much sleep that night.

I Saw Three Ships...

2009-12-22T20:02:00.004-05:00

I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing in,
On Christmas Day,
On Christmas Day,
I Saw Three Ships Come Sailing in,
On Christmas Day in the morning...

Merry Christmas to everyone! I hope you all have a wonderful Holiday Season filled with love and peace, joy and laughter.

I took this pic at the end of November on my walk around the yacht club. It was a cold and chilly day, but the sun was shining, making for a pleasant stroll. While looking out at the lake, I was quite surprised to see not only one sailboat, but three!! Who would be out on the water this time of year? Someone who doesn't mind a freezing wind whipping in their face - that's who! That Christmas song about "3 ships come sailing in" popped into my head, so I saved this pic to post now - along with the first verse of the song.

I was very disorganized this year and left everything to the last minute. Caught up in a swamp of baking, shopping, babysitting, and other responsibilities, I've hardly had time to sit down.

As well, my computer has been on the fritz for most of December. I'm not sure how much longer it will last - but such is life. Will get back to visiting and blogging after Christmas.

Thank you to all you wonderful friends who have emailed or stopped by to see how things are with hubby and me. We're fine. I appreciate your thoughtfulness and kindness.

My Name Is.....

2009-12-04T19:36:00.011-05:00

Perfect Poinsettia! And I'm the Prettiest Christmas Plant in this home!

Oh Really? Well Ms. P.P., (pretty peculiar, in my opinion) my name is Christmas Cactus - Cute Christmas Cactus! And since I have Christmas in my name, then I'm the Best Christmas Plant in the house!

Oh well - you're not even red, like a true Christmas plant should be! (cute? ha. crazy is more like it!)

Pthhhhatt!

Oh yeah? Well just look at my shiny green pot. That makes me just as Christmas-y as you!

Hello? I just woke up. What's all the fuss?

Well, if it isn't Sleeping Beauty.
About time you woke up.

More like Rip Van Winkle, if you ask me.

Winkle. Tinkle. Sounds just like you, Ms. P.P. (not that I'd ask you anyway).

Well if it isn't Amicable Amaryllis just coming into bloom. Welcome! Your name begins with "A" - the first letter of the alphabet, so you're the 1st and that means the nicest!

Awwww, are you sure?

Absolutely!

First Snowfall...

2009-12-02T19:49:00.002-05:00

For someone who doesn't like winter, I really get excited about the first snowfall.

Drab, bare tree branches, and boring brown left-over leaves are suddenly transformed, as if by magic! Feathery white powder covers those stick-like branches, making them look like ladies trying on lace petticoats (ha - there's an old fashioned word for you)!

Paths, stones, and front walks disappear - covered by a layer of white fluffy snow. We rummage through closets and drawers to find warm mitts and scarves. Frantically dig up winter boots from storage.

I had wanted to show my granddaughter how to make snow angels, but my plans didn't work out. And now (a day later) the snow has melted. But I'm not worried, there is no shortage of snow here in wintertime. One day within the next few weeks, we'll get a heavier snow fall and then I'll be teaching a course on "how to make snow angels". Who'd like to join me??

Open The Door..

2009-11-29T19:45:00.004-05:00

Follow the squirrel...

Oh, maybe not - this looks like a ghost squirrel - his pic was taken in the mist. Ghost squirrels are known to do silly things, like this....

What?

...like turning water into ice! "What happened to the pond?"

Let's ignore the squirrel and take a look over there.....

Hmmm, nice mountain (um.. hill). Shall we check it out? See what's over there?

Let's take a boat....

Did not think there were any houses (um..cottages, shacks) over there. If you look closely, you will see a sign that says GAZ. I must be a gas station for motor boats. Nice having a telephoto lens.

But there are other boats on the lake (Lake of Two Mountains, for those of you who know my area). Shall we flag down this sailboat?

Let's see where the wind takes us....

Ah... this boat's going to church. Actually, that church is on a point of land in the village of Oka, where the monks make their famous Oka cheese.

These pics were taken last week. Wanting to explore a bit, I took the car down to the village and left it in a parking lot. Stepping out, the air felt rather chilly, but the sun was warm. I decided to take a long walk and see where I'd end up. Water always beckons me and so I ended up at the yacht club.

At this time of year, the club is deserted. Boats anchored for the winter. Club house empty. No one about, except for a few "walkers", some with dogs and some without. The weather was exceptionally nice for the end of November. But I was still surprised to see boats on the lake at this time of year.

November is coming to a close. It's been a warm and gentle month. Without snow......yet!

Let There Be....

2009-11-20T18:21:00.007-05:00

Light! Ahem! Turn around please...

That's better!

Do you see the Magic Button? It looks like a Rainbow. Give it a push to open the door...

To enter a world of faeries....

Is this a flower? Or an angel?

I just love taking pics of how sun lights up a flower...

Ah ha! Sneaky grapes, just where do you think you're going?

Oh, you were climbing inside the bowl, not trying to escape!

Chrysanthemums perched on the porch, enjoying the last rays of afternoon sun.

I like photographing sunlight as it streams in the window, or as it lights up the landscape, trees, flowers, rocks. But it's proving to be quite a challenge (as most of you know), to take a pic with just the right light. Too much and it's washed out. No colour. Too little and it's dark. Still no colour. And on top of that, I've just found out that different computer monitors show colours differently. Eeks - how do we ever get our photos right?

Whatever - it's all fun. I'm enjoying my new hobby.

What would you do....

2009-11-17T14:58:00.003-05:00

if the Universe handed you a cup of coffee?

About mid-morning, I head out to Tim Horton's drive - thru to pick up coffee for Hubby and I. We started this ritual years ago when raking leaves in the fall. Raking leaves was a days-on-end task. So we'd start out early in the morning and still be at it until supper time.

Of course, we'd take breaks for meals, or if the weather turned cold or wet. But most of the time we were lucky enough to have sunny, cool days in which to clean up our property.

Mid-morning we'd lean our rakes by the side of the garage, hop into the car and escape to our favourite coffee and doughnut shop. In those days, I'd even eat doughnuts too. Today, it's far easier to put weight on than to take it off! So, I skip the doughnuts.

The sun was shining brightly this morning, as I ran my errands and drove on over to Tim's.
"Two medium coffees" I gave my order, "one double-double, and the other one black with 2 cream on the side".

Now I'm very fussy about my coffee. I order it black (the cream on the side is for hubby - he luuuves cream). At home I put some homogenized milk in the bottom of my cup, heat it in the microwave for 25 seconds, and then pour in the coffee. I used to drink cream in coffee years ago, but now take milk. Not 1% or 2%, but the regular homo milk.

"Here you are," the lady handed me the coffee with a nice smile (the lady was smiling, not the coffee).
"Oh, you forgot the cream on the side", I reminded her.
"No, I put it inside the coffee."

"Eeks! Sorry, but it has to be black." There is no way I could drink their 18% cream!
"Oh, no problem." She handed me a fresh cup. "Why don't you just keep the other one."

I must have looked surprised.
"Really?"
"Sure, I'd only have to dump it down the drain. Give it to a friend."
"Thank you!"

Hmmm. Now what do I do? We certainly can't drink all this coffee. Who can I give it to? Do I stop someone on the street? I think not. But there is still a construction crew working on our water pipes over on the next street. Do I park the car, walk over and see if anyone would like a coffee? Well, they might think I'm crazy for one thing.
Or they might think I'm after one of the crew (ha ha....not!)

No, I don't think I'll do that.
I like passing on gifts, unexpected freebies, but maybe I should just enjoy this one. Bask in the glow of getting something for free. And then pass it on at a later date.

O.K., but we really can't drink all this coffee.

Alright, I'll tell you what (I was having this conversation to myself while driving home - good thing nobody could hear me), if the construction crew is near my house, where they can see me driving home (so they don't think I'm a crazy lady - they know where I live), I'll give it away. If there is nobody working nearby, Hubby will drink it later in the day.

Guess how it turned out?
Nobody was working near the house, so we (Hubby actually) got to enjoy an extra cup of coffee.

Now tell me......what would you do?

Mornings...

2009-11-13T20:45:00.003-05:00

Some mornings begin with mist... Other mornings are clear...

Moon on a Stick. Ha! Looks like a marshmallow ready for toasting over an open fire!

Ah.. that's better.

Another morning, I caught Mistress Moon hanging out gossiping with branches and the last of the autumn leaves.

What are your mornings like?

Contrasts...

2009-11-07T16:10:00.004-05:00

Empty... Full...

Half and half.

Dead...

Alive...

Pardon?

ALIVE!

(oh, sorry, I didn't hear you - ha, ha)

Half and half.

I couldn't think of anything to say about this last pic. I just liked the "aerial view", and the contrast of the pretty petunia still alive and happy amongst the dead autumn leaves.

As you can see, I love taking her picture.

Happy November!

Got Leaves?

2009-11-01T16:25:00.004-05:00

Yes, do you?

Sure do!

Follow the path....

Around the bend.....

We've got leaves too...

No pushing, Leaves, and no peeking in the Window!

Looks like Rock Garden is buried in leaves....

And leaves are smothering Hedge!

We're full of leaves, thank you!

Hello Trees.....got leaves???

I certainly do..

I don't!

Clouds...

2009-10-29T19:55:00.007-04:00

I took this pic one gorgeous sunny day in late summer. It was the only cloud in a clear blue sky.

On another day, I was in the backyard with my grandchildren. The afternoon started off being warm and sunny. Then a bank of clouds appeared, turning the air chilly and the sky gray.

"Go away Clouds!" I yelled up to the sky.

What??

"But Grandma, I like clouds!!"

Oops.

WANTED.....

2009-10-23T20:25:00.010-04:00

Dolores Dottie Dahlia. Also known as: Dangerous, Dancing, and sometimes even Delusional!

Wanted For: Coming to dine decidedly drunk while dancing with delight on your table! Devastating!

Cornelia Claudia Coneflower.
AKA : Greta Gerbera Daisy, Blushing Beauty.

Be careful, she's a master of disguises. No one really knows her true identity.
Wanted in connection with: painting the Garden different colours during the night. Careless dropping of Seeds. Sleeping on her stalk!

The Marigold twins: Marie and Mahari. Mostly milling about together, misleading others. Malevolent. Mainly misunderstood. Think they are better than anyone else in the Garden!

Wanted for: Snooping. Stepping on ladybugs. Looking down their stems at others. Refusing invitations.

Distinguishing Marks: Ruffled petticoats.

Belinda Blabbermouth Begonia.

Distinguishing markings: beauty spot (disguised as a bug) on her left outer petal.

Don't be fooled by her delicate profile. Those ruffles are sharp enough to cut a daisy stalk.

Wanted for: blowing things out of proportion. Spreading nasty gossip in the Garden. Cannot control her wagging tongue. Blubbering.

Irmgaard Impatiens. Pictured here with sister, Isobella.

AKA: Icy, Ichabod.

Wanted for: Improper conduct. Impersonating Innocence. Illicit intelligence-gathering. Don't be lead astray by those tears....

Anyone with any information leading to the arrest of these law-breaking flowers is advised to report immediately to their local Garden Patrol.

The Quest

2009-10-19T20:01:00.007-04:00

"Don't say I didn't warn you......... it's a loooong way off.... but if you've set yer mind on gettin' there, I ain't gonna stand in yer way..... See that horse-drawn wagon over there? You'd best start by following it for a ways..... but hurry...... it won't wait for you...

Once you come to the old-fashioned water pump, you can leave the horses behind. Now pump that thing as hard as you can! If yer strong enough to get the water flowing, then yer ready to move on. If not, then you'd best give up and turn around now......

Aw, don't bother asking that jackass for directions........what does he know? Oh well, if yer gonna bribe him with fresh grass......

What did he tell ya? Turn right at the hydrangea tree? Yeah, that's right, but don't go into the little house, or you'll be asking for trouble.....

Go past the little boy, dancing on the hay wagon....., but if you stop to talk, you'll never get there in time......

Stroll right on past the autumn tree (it's the only one that's changing colours, you can't miss it).......
.....but if you take time to explore that building, you just might miss out......

Carefully, carefully......tiptoe past the goslings....

And finally..........
...ahhhhhh.......here we are! At the pigpen. Did I tell you to bring some corn with you? They just luuuv corn."

We spent the afternoon at Cumberland Farms in Ottawa, a few weeks ago. That old man was such a character, I couldn't resist taking his picture.

He really was pointing the way to the pigpen. We could have hopped on the farm wagon, but preferred to enjoy the sights at a more leisurely pace.

The horse and carriage was part of a wedding ceremony being held on that beautiful Saturday afternoon.

Happy Thanksgiving

2009-10-12T21:34:00.003-04:00

Happy Thanksgiving to all. If you look at my header, you can see how I spent my Thanksgiving. Sitting in the toy room with my grandchildren.
Ahhhhh......
Bliss.......

Tiny yellow flowers and ladybugs...

2009-10-09T19:57:00.004-04:00

Leaves are blushing.....

Tiny flowers fascinate me. I was walking one morning, when I saw some little teeny flowers growing by the side of the road.

These hadn't opened yet. I was so disappointed as they were in full bloom the day before.

That's better.....
Some more little yellow flowers...
Bigger.....(o.k. we all know what these are and they weren't growing wild)
Biggest!! (I was planning to post a pic of a gigantic sunflower, but it disappeared!)

Ladybug preparing for winter. I wonder where it will hide?

Of course - in a ladybug house!

September Flowers

2009-09-27T21:13:00.007-04:00

The cooler air of September seems to agree with my flowers.... Begonias enjoying refreshing rain showers....

I don't remember the name of this one. It was a richer shade of pink in "real life".

Oops, how do these grandkids pop up among the flower pics?

Hmmm, and how did that dog's butt get in the pic???

Fresh, new dahlia just opening; oblivious to the fact that most flowers are fading away...

Well, this dahlia has no intention of fading...

Summer slips into Fall...

2009-09-22T08:02:00.005-04:00

Summer flowers..... are making way.....

(Ahhhh, Miss Dandelion, your sunny face pops up reminding us that summer warmth still lingers in the air....)

.....for rich, golden-orange autumn colours

Mistress Marigold, will you please tell your photographer to keep her shadow to herself? I think it was her head that got in the way, darkening your bottom petals!

Oops, summer swings back in, not giving up yet.....

I love the deep oranges that flowers dress up in to let us know it's autumn..

Ladybug checking out a hiding place.... a place to snuggle when colder air freezes her tiny feet.

Roadside asters show off their bright purple hues...

And leaves begin to change....

Can you see that tiny airplane in the top left corner? It was a race to try and capture the orange leaves, airplane, and leave out some ugly hydro wires. I think I just made it!

Happy Autumn to everybody!

Hiding Places

2009-09-18T19:54:00.002-04:00

Pretty pink begonia sits on my front porch, enjoying the sunny day. Hmmmm... what's hiding under one of her petals?

Looks like a couple of creepy-crawlies....

Yikes! How did they all get in here? Must be having a party, or a sleep-over by the looks of things.

Even in this brand-new begonia bud, we can glimpse another creepy-crawly taking a nap. Or checking out the weather before heading off to find food.

Ah.. there he goes! Off to work. Or whatever earwigs do when they're not climbing on petals or napping in the buds.

Not my favourite of insects, but they do make taking flower pics more interesting and fun!

Painting the Deck

2009-09-08T20:23:00.003-04:00

Our back deck has been badly in need of paint (or wood stain, actually) all summer.
But this summer in particular, has been cool and rainy - not good for staining an outdoor deck.

However, as we know, weather changes and we've been very lucky to finally, finally have a real summer! The sun has been shining every day for more than a week! I'd almost forgotten what real summer feels like. Shorts, T-shirts, flipflops and taking grandchildren on picnics in the park.

Friday morning, I decided to tackle the neglected and peeling deck (did not think to take before and after pics, but then - who'd want to see a crummy, old deck?).

Following hubby's instructions, I donned his gardening knee pads (don't know where mine went to), got down on hands and knees and began sanding and smoothing the old, flaking bits of paint.

"Don't do too much at once! Don't worry about being meticulous! Take your time!" Hubby cautioned.

Geeeez, as if........

I was not looking forward to this. It had to be done. So I was doing it.

Walked back into the kitchen for something. Hubby was washing the breakfast dishes. Suddenly this struck me as funny - this role reversal. Years ago, it would be me at the kitchen sink, while he was outside preparing to paint the deck.

It took me 3 days. I divided the deck into 3 portions. And each day did about 1 to 2 hours work.
The first day took the longest amount of time; the surface had to be prepared, paint mixed, brushes found, etc. etc.
Day 2 was a little quicker.
By Day 3 I was on a roll. Paint can on the deck, stirred and ready. Knee pads on. Brushes cleaned and standing by. I was sure this was going to be quick. Last day. Let's just do it. I had developed a rhythm and found this chore not all that bad after all.

Finished. Yes! But - there was still some stain left in the bottom of the can. There was no way I was going to save that small amount and anyway the top of the paint can was so rusted (had been sitting in our garage for a year or more) I'd never be able to get it back on.

Well, I could just second-coat part of the deck and be done with it.
I'd start at the back door and work downwards towards the opening in the surrounding hedge. Thought I was pretty smart to make sure I had an exit, since I'd already painted another area and could no longer use that exit.

Made sure the back door was open. O.K. - let's go. I slapped on paint as fast as I could, moving plants and tables as I went, instead of getting them out of the way properly beforehand. I did not know how much surface I could cover with the remnants of paint. Ran into the BBQ. Geeeze, had to move that too.

Finally, I'd had it. Only a few brushstrokes left in the can, but I was done. Totally. Tired. Ready to quit. I exited the deck and ran around to the garage.
Locked.
Nooooooo.
The back door was open, but guess what? I had started painting at the back door......
Nooooo - this could not be happening! I had planned so carefully.
How do I get back in the house?
I could ring the front door bell, but I knew Hubby was upstairs getting washed and dressed for the day. I just could not bring myself to make him walk all the way downstairs, open the door for me and have to climb back upstairs to finish. It would wear him down too much.

So I did the only thing left.
Feeling like I was an actor in a comedy television show, I stomped over my freshly painted deck, leaving footprints in the dark brown stain. Ewwwwww - it was slippery!
Turning around, I hunched over, butt stuck up in the air, and "erased" my footprints one by one, (using the very last bits of paint) until I got to the back door.

Once inside, I had to stand on one foot, slip off one shoe at a time and place it carefully upside down on the floor so it wouldn't stain.

It will be a long time before I do that again!

Hornet's nest taken with my new camera, using the zoom lens. No rickety ladder this time!

My New Camera

2009-09-01T07:52:00.005-04:00

I splurged and bought myself a new camera!

Fascinated with raindrops on flowers, leaves, and even spider webs (although the spider web pics did not turn out - more practice needed), I wanted to capture the magic that only fresh, early morning rain can bring to soften flowers and green foliage.

Other bloggers have posted such gorgeous macro pics, I wanted a camera with better macro capabilities too.

This is such a delicate and tiny flower. I have no idea what it is, except it must be a weed as it's growing in one of my pansy pots. I want to learn how to bring the flower into detailed focus and not the leaves so much.
Looks like we're in a rainforest...

Mother Nature adding softness to pink rose impatiens. My camera picks up more detail in the leaves rather than the flowers. I wonder if I can change that.

I also would like to learn how to capture sunlight. Something that is probably impossible to do, but still. The early morning sun shining through my hummingbird feeder made it look positively jewel-like. However, the pic did not capture this at all. It just looks yellow.
Poor little wasp. Trapped inside.

A day at the Zoo

2009-08-26T20:11:00.005-04:00

A flying monkey - oops, I mean Nathan.

Grandma Wendy showing Jasmine how to feed the little goats.

Now Adrian wants to feed the goats.

Not sure I'd want to meet him in the jungle. He's so big!!

Definitely would not want to meet up with an elephant. I'm glad they were surrounded by a strong enclosure.

It was hot that day, but we had fun.

Flower Faces

2009-08-20T20:55:00.007-04:00

Hellow Mistress Pansy. You look cheerful this morning.
And Lady Fushia - such pretty wings you have!
Pattie Petuna - you look thoughtful today, what's going on in your world?
Merry Marigold - what secrets have you to share?
Just to change the pace a bit - here is my newest creation, in a shady corner - just to the right of our front door.
Janie Jump-Up, how positively glowing you are! Just back from vacation? Or is something else going on?
And Barbie Begonia, how demure you look, dressed in your ruffles. This dear little petuna is another Queen of the Lawn. I found her all by herself, not far from where Pansy Queen was growing. I had picked Pansy and put her in the house a while ago. I was afraid the fellows who cut our grass would mow her down. So she's gone. But where did this one come from? I didn't plant any petunias in the front garden this year, so this remains a mystery.

Oh excuse me! I didn't realize you were washing your face. I'll just let you be.... Now, how did She get in here??

Wasps or Hornets?

2009-08-09T20:12:00.004-04:00

I was walking down my driveway and just happened to look up into this tree. What on earth is that big huge grey blob?

I had my suspicious, but took out the step ladder anyway to get a closer pic. Ah yes, tiny wasps coming and going - out of that hole at the bottom left side. This must be the month for wasps, as several of my blogging friends have posted about wasps.

The strange thing was, I hadn't noticed that there were any more wasps than usual flying around the yard.

" You got up on our rickety step ladder to photograph a wasp's nest?" asked Hubby.

"Yup."

"That's dangerous!"

"I guess, but I'm o.k. Besides, now you know how I felt when you used to get up on that rickety old thing and trim hedges!"

Think we should get a new ladder?

Pink Hats....

2009-08-03T20:13:00.002-04:00

And happy smiles....

...make a happy Grandma.

Pansies and toadstools

2009-07-30T21:11:00.006-04:00

What is this dear little pansey doing in the middle of my front lawn?

Is she lost? Drowning in a sea of green? Or maybe she thinks she's a Queen! Sitting high on her throne, while all the little green people wave at her.

Here are some of her sisters, gracing my kitchen table.

But what to do with the many violas (or johnny-jump-ups) I gathered today? I need to pick them regularly to encourage new growth.

Inspired by somebody's water garden, I made my own.......a mini floating garden.

Ahh... here is a better view of the floating beauties.

I suppose they'll sink to the bottom in a soggy mess overnight, but today I'll enjoy them.

What's this? Did you invite that boring looking toadstool to our party?

Naw, I think he's just trying to blend in, as if he belongs here. Strange looking thing, isn't it?

Mid-summer blooms

2009-07-25T21:26:00.003-04:00

Star-gazer lily looking all tangled up.Step back a bit.....

Bougainvillea - my pride and joy. I got this hanging basket for half price!

I had to post one pic that wasn't pink! Million bells in a soft yellow shade. Last year I made hanging baskets of this flower. This year it sits in a pot.

Lonely Lily

2009-07-20T20:09:00.002-04:00

Looks like the construction crew left one lonely lily plant behind. Yes, this is what's left of the huge clump I tried to rescue a while ago.

Did the workers purposely leave this lily untouched?

Or was it just not necessary to remove it?

I don't know. I sent these pics off to my local newspaper. We'll see if this is a newsworthy story (in our small town, just about anything goes).

As it is, this major road construction is the talk of the town. Roads blocked off, trucks lumbering up and down the streets, dumping loads of gravel at 7:00 in the morning. Ah well, it will nice when it's all done. A bigger, wider main street with bicycle paths.

Wild flowers

2009-07-17T19:43:00.002-04:00

Unexpected treasures at the side of the road.
As I was taking the last pic, a neighbour stopped his car to see what I was doing.
"I have a gardening blog," I informed him. No need to go into any formal explanations.

"Hope you find something interesting among the weeds." Off he drove. Evidently not impressed with my roadside treasures.

His opinion is his business. I'm just so delighted to "see" new things through the eye of my camera. Flowers that I would normally just admire for a second or two and then walk away.

It's July and I'm enjoying the summer flowers and warm sunshine. How about you?

Patterns....

2009-07-12T20:50:00.003-04:00

What an amazing structure, in the shape of a globe... A glistening globe........

Ah.... come into my parlour, said the Spider to the Fly....

The intricacy of a spider web never ceases to amaze me. The glistening threads, woven together just so. The time and dedication it takes to construct this. And often, with a flick of a broom or the wave of a hand, the life work of this little creature, is carelessly swept away.

Summer here has been cool and rainy. Very atypical for this time of year. But like the Spider, we continue on in our familiar patterns. Weaving our stories...

Thought I would "rescue" some tiger lilies from the bottom of our street. The huge tractors and diggers had demolished some of the wild lilies that were growing in the ditch. So with shovel and wheelbarrow (and hoping the neighbours would not see me), I set out.

Those lilies were so entrenched in the mud, there was no way I could free them. I did manage to pull a very small clump out by hand, but had to leave the rest.

Two of my neighbours passed in their cars. One of them waved. The other ignored me. Wouldn't you know.......on a Sunday afternoon - just when I thought everybody would be out enjoying the day, or visiting with friends.

Then somebody else passed by, rolled down his window "Good Luck!" he called.

Hmmmm - had he tried to "rescue" these lilies too?

Getting out of..

2009-07-05T20:16:00.004-04:00

....your comfort zone.
You know how it is. You hear a certain expression, saying or phrase repeatedly for months, sometimes years, and it makes no impression on you.
Then one day, you read that very same expression or somebody mentions it in conversation, and ping! something is triggered inside your brain. Some signal is given to "pay attention". Why all of a sudden is this phrase important?

Well, who knows really. I figure it just means that you are in a receptive frame of mind to learn whatever it is you need to learn.

"Getting out of your comfort zone" is a phrase we hear from time to time. I usually get a distinctly uncomfortable feeling when I hear that. The meaning is crystal clear. Watch out - something is going to hurt.

I was reading an article in the newspaper the other morning - an article on fitness and health. "If you want to make positive changes in your body and level of fitness, you have to Get out of your Comfort Zone."

Hmmm - I don't like that phrase. But for some reason it's stuck in my brain. I bought some new variety of tomatoes. They were brown and looked awful. But tasted delicious! I splurged and bought my bread at the bakery last week. I was not impressed. It tasted like fast-food-french-bread (now I know there is no such thing as fast-food-french-bread, but it gives you an idea of the taste. I was expecting a heavenly, whole-grain, down-to-earth, fresh baked loaf. No way.

Took a long, long walk. After all - I had read this expression in a fitness article. Though tired afterwards, the next day I felt more energetic. Coincidence? Maybe. We'll see how things go.

This afternoon, I put a bottle of cold water, my wallet, and cell phone into a backpack, strapped it on my back, and walked into town. I've lived in Hudson for 13 years and have never walked into town. The reason? Hills. We live at the top and the village is down in the valley. Fun going down, but h*ll coming back up, especially carrying groceries on your back.

I set out along the gravel road (due to construction in the area), my mantra echoing in my brain (Get out of your Comfort Zone). Along the way I admired a gorgeous rose garden (you don't really see it zooming by in a car), a stone wall, and dozens of other gardens in bloom. I watched ducks swimming on the pond (where is my camera??), saw the foundation for a brand-new house on a previously wooded lot, some new For Sale signs, all the while listening to cardinals calling and finches twittering. Took a shortcut or two and before long (almost an hour), I was at the grocery store. Picked up some steaks for BBQ-ing, and some veggies. Not too much. I was mindful of having to haul it all back home.

The way back was harder, as I knew it would be. But it didn't bother me in the least (well, until I took a shortcut through some mosquito-y woods). I took my time, meandering by the shops with their flowers on display. An old-fashioned spinning wheel in front of an antique shop caught my eye, making me think of Sherry at Q's Corner.

Back at the duck pond, I saw a young boy looking intently at something on a rock. I walked over to have a closer look. A huge turtle or tortoise was sunning itself on that rock. It looked so weird and still and big, I thought it was fake. It's body must have been the size of an over-sized dinner platter. I've never seen a turtle that big in our area.

"Do you think this turtle is real?" I asked the boy.
"Yes, it moved it's head," he replied.
Why oh why didn't I bring my camera???
Never mind, there will be a next time. And think of all the interesting things I have to tell hubby. Changes in the neighbourhood he doesn't get to see.

The shortcut through the woods was wet and buggy - very uncomfortable! But I got home just in time to throw some marinade on the steaks for supper, take a quick shower and collapse into a deck chair. After drinking about a gallon of cold water, I managed to compose myself and look serene and relaxed, book on my lap when Hubby poked his head out the door, having just woken up from his afternoon nap.

I'll let you know if I can make it out of bed tomorrow morning!

Ah Changes...

2009-07-01T16:52:00.004-04:00

How can we get out of Change? We can't. Plain and Simple. Those of us in our Wise Years have learned (or are still learning) to "go with the flow". Bend and stretch and flex. Rigidity never works. Life is not meant to be static.

It's taken me a while to stop wishing things could be different (well sometimes I still do), but I am learning that Acceptance makes life easier. I am learning to let go.

Granddaughter #2 was diagnosed last year with a digestive illness. I am loosening my grip on this issue. I was furious at our medical system for not being there for her. I was stressed out that my daughter (her mother) did not have my experience and wisdom to handle this the way I would have. However I had to let go. For my own mental and physical health. And to allow my daughter to grow and learn from this experience, the way she is meant to.

I am learning to let go of my youth. I look at my children and wish I was in their shoes. I absolutely loved those years of raising a family, dressing up for parties and social events, going to work and getting a paycheque, not worrying in the least about my body or health. And my parents lived close by. I danced through those years. Not that we didn't have problems. Money was a big one. And I left my marriage after 20 years. But looking back, I only remember the joy.

And looking back to the beginning of my present relationship - I see more joy, more happiness, to the point of bursting wide open. And then I wonder why Hubby and I can't still be enjoying those fruitful and healthy first few years.

What I am learning is that you can't hold on to the good things in life and expect Change to wait for a better time. Ha! I used to try and hold on to summer. Doesn't work. I used to try and hold on to a glorious day. Sunset made me sad.

This blogging community has helped with Change. I now read others' posts about autumn with delight, rather than sadness. Winter is difficult, but the beauty I see captured by my blogging friends cheers me up. Winter birds, snow gracing an evergreen tree or a house, Christmas baking, indoor candles and beautiful table settings - bring comfort to a long, cold winter here. Of course, I also check out blogs in Florida, or the Caribbean, or Australia, or other parts of the world, where I am sure to see magical gardens and gorgeous flowers.

But today it is Summer here, and I will enjoy it to the fullest!