Posted in 2018

It was suicide. Farewell my dear child vcl2018

I want to scream, and scream . And scream some more.

I want to grab those flowers, rip them petal by petal

crush them under my heel

order them to leave and never return

But I cannot. I dare not.

For all my crushing and ripping

has released the sticky-sweet aroma that death brings

the memory of wizened old aunts and grandparents

linger in the ancient air…..exposed in all its fragility.

Woe, o Woe,  how can it be so young to choose

eternity.

 

 

 

 

Posted in 2018

Happy. Vcl©️

My eyes are closed

Words rattle

Round and round

Seek to escape

Long to express themselves

Larger than life

Squeeze, stretch

Through the almost shut door

Of night

Tight.

Shut out the world

All cancerous words

I cannot bear the sight

Shake those happy letters

From the dreamland tree

Shake them free

Gaze upon their transparency

As they arrange themselves

Hope shines bright

Right .

Posted in 2018

I feel blue vcl©️

I’ve found true joy comes from serving others. If you are feeling blue, turn on your servants heart and it will bless you.   Unknown.

I’ve been feeling blue. Life hasn’t followed the pattern I expected. I’ve agonized over who’s to blame and have no concrete answer.

I do know I feel too much. Truly, these last couple of years have been arduous. Words are spoken or not. Decisions get made or not. I’ve felt that the world is an unkind and unsafe place for the most part. I’ve found myself asking “If you can’t trust your tribe who can you trust?”  Where is the loyalty, the trust? Everybody scurries for cover when you ask the hard questions.

I can’t fix everything. There, I’ve said it out loud.  Actually a lot of things aren’t fixable in this world. More stuff is made to be disposable. Even the toaster eventually quits toasting. But you don’t feel the same pain throwing the toaster in the trash as when someone you love trashes you.

The pain is real. But reading the above quote this morning I was reminded that the world is full of other people who feel blue and if I look beyond myself they show up.  Every day.  People who appreciate your words of advice. People longing for words of hope. A hug.  A coffee.  I may never have the answers I crave in this world, but I can concentrate on how I respond to the sadness my heart feels every day. I choose joy in service. It’s what I do.  I do it because I want to. I do it because it gives me joy. It eases the burden.

I’ve turned on my servant’s heart and I don’t want to shut it off. ❤️

 

 

 

 

Posted in 2018

Joyful essence

Give not over thy soul to sorrow and afflict not thyself in thy own counsel. Gladness of heart is the life of man and the joyfulness of man is length of days.     Ecclesiastes

Today my husband was blessed with another birthday. He has been blessed so far with 66 of them🤭 Today we were again  reminded that his father passed away at the young age of 59. He did not have the opportunity to grow old.

Each year that passes finds us having the same discussion…what he must have felt leaving this world too soon. Now, he had heart problems and finally a stroke, but as I look back I remember sitting in the hospital thinking how quiet and resigned he seemed to be. I was young. I didn’t know how to tell him that I would miss him not being there. Then my husband’s aunt passed away in her 59th year. That felt scary. Heart disease runs in the family said the Dr to my husband and he was also at risk. He was assured that exercise and healthy eating were better for him than Perogies and sour cream. ❤️

The year my husband turned 59 was really stressful, and felt he had dodged a bullet  …in fact when he hit his 60th we celebrated with a big party. Each year since has felt like a victory.

But ironically we have also learned that longevity has its downside. Aches and pains we didn’t have at 59, people asking when are we retiring….when we aren’t ready to think that way yet, children that don’t have the same time for us, grandchildren growing and finding their own interests. Life adjustments. Finding where we fit, what we’re  fit for.

i took this picture of flowers awhile ago on one of our vacations.  In observing it, I am reminded that some flowers have short lifespans and others are perennial….but they all spread a joyful essence to the atmosphere they inhabit. The natural world has an order to be envied if you observe closely. I am mindful that all time in this earthly space is short and seasonal.  But it can be oh so beautiful.

So we celebrate another year. We will be glad in the length of our days.🤩

 

Posted in 2018

Till Spring 🌬 vcl©️

It is the time of year again

I hear the autumn call

In the cool brisk north wind

The whispering willows

Do their thing

Dropping leaves that cover

Things that will not be found

Till spring. And the last birds sing.

 

Those birds, they sing of everything

They have seen, soaring near and far

Flying high as they return

From whenst they came

Stealing grain, singing of

The journey home again

Slipping away to warmer climes

Life renewed. On the other side.

Posted in 2018

Taste the Mystery

We really are very lucky. You know…US… the gardening people. We have had our annual joy…..and a busy time recently gathering in all the fruits and vegetables of our labors. Abruptly…just as every year feels that way,  cooler weather has descended…I find myself contemplating socks….saints preserve us!

This is the time of year when we can’t go around with a new plant (family member) as in warmer climes, chanting under our breath “Where are we going to put you?” Here in northern Alberta….the land of the blue line on seed packets I call it, we are now asking ourselves “How are we going to protect you?”

My husband states he saw frost on my car in the early morning…which I’ll have to take his word for as early is a dirty word in my vocabulary. 🤩 Hearing that though, I am instantly thrown into a protective stance. Do I grab the peppers and tomatoes (still quite green due to poor sunlight caused largely by the forest fires that hid the sun and the rest of the skyline most of the summer) ? Or do I leave them be, alert for just a little precious Indian Summer?

That’s the dichotomy of gardening friends.  The cycle of birth and death. It gets played out on the gardening stage every year. It’s been a great run, but now we look for ways to cheat the calendar.  It could mean the difference between a bountiful harvest or no harvest at all.

As for me, I went down to my garden today. I picked some tomatoes, cukes and onions. I grabbed a couple of peppers and a lone zucchini too and made a delicious salad for our supper.

I pronounced it good.

I picked more sage to dry, anticipating Thanksgiving in the pungent autumnal odor lingering on my fingers. I contemplated covering the Tom Thumbs. Maybe tomorrow.

Mother Nature winks at us all. I Winked back!😍😉

Photo vcl©️