Posted in 2018

Oatmeal raisin cookies~ The great divide

Ya’ll remember the lines spoken by the minister at a wedding ceremony that go like this.  “If there is anyone here today, who knows of any reason why this couple should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”?

45 Years later I now daydream through that scenario…picturing someone, a sister, mother or even one of the church potluck team ladies jumping up and waving from the back of the church, “Raisins, he hates raisins, your marriage is doomed!” Then they exit  with maniacal laughter. (It’s my daydream 😀)

We thought we had covered all the important stuff, like children, money, pets and who’s family to visit on each holiday, but like so many couples we felt completely blindsided by seemingly trivial preferences that can change the relationship landscape forever.🤭

Like raisins.   “I thought raisin pie was your favourite?” piped up my husband’s mother after he refused a slice at a Sunday meal visit soon after our marriage.  “No,”said Ken emphatically. I dislike cooked raisins actually. I prefer pumpkin. I hate how cooked raisins squish in my mouth. Like polyps I imagine.”

I wondered how many raisin pies he had choked down through the years and now, as a grown man at last he was taking a stand. No more cooked raisins for him! Free at Last!

Well it actually turns out that there have been very few cooked raisins for anyone in our family. You can pretty well say it has been a raisin free environment. Thank God(truly) for cranberries. Life has been tolerable. I must admit though it has made me a bit of a raisin warrior. Today, while travelling, we stopped at Tim’s for a coffee and donuts treat. There in the case before me I spied the most amazing oatmeal cookies with raisin deliciousness.

I ordered one and my husband ordered a luscious peanut butter.  The clerk accidentally placed two raisin cookies in the bag. My heart stopped…for just the soupçon of a second…waving frantically I alerted her to her error. “Sorry, she said. “Now you have 2 raisin cookies because once out of the case I can’t put it back.  Do you want both? I indicated that while I was excited about the prospect of  TWO raisin cookies….but my husband was not. She added the peanut butter one. Phew, crisis averted! My husbands eye rolls were hard to miss. He whispered that I could enjoy twice the punishment.

So today I am mindful that We need not think alike to love alike.” ~Ferenc David

In fact for me in that moment, while I recognized my raisin cookie need, and fulfilled it, I was entirely conscious that my husband wouldn’t  feel the same bliss. And then I realized I cared.  Somewhere, all wrapped up in our childhood memory of the seemingly miles and miles of raisins, we had reached two different conclusions. And that is ok. Because we love each other in spite of our differences.

Me: I hate guacamole.  Ken: What?How can you hate guacamole? 🙄

 

 

Posted in 2018

Sunflowers ~T’is the seasoning

Sunflowers say summer more than any other flower.
As part of the daisy family, they are cultivated for their edible seeds. Every road trip in our family begins with a trip to the store to ensure enough “spits” to fill a few empty coffee cups along the way.

I read that the sunflower’s name comes from its tendency to reposition itself to face the sun. It’s genus, Helianthus, is rooted in two Greek words — “helios” meaning sun and “anthos” meaning flower.

The ancient Greek myth of Apollo and Clytie is one explanation of why  sunflowers turn towards the sun. In this story Clytie, a nymph, adored Apollo. At first, he loved her back, but soon he fell in love with Leucothoe. Because of her jealousy, Clytie told Leucothoe’s father of the relationship and he punished her by burying her alive.

In anger, Apollo turned her into a flower, but even in flower form she still loved him and would spend her days watching him as he moved the sun across the sky in his chariot, just like sunflowers move to face the sun. 🌻

In 2013 my husband and I visited the Rikkmuseum in Amsterdam. We were excited to view amazing art and I particularly liked Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.

I share his enthusiasm evidently…..❤️ I wonder if he would prefer regular seasoning or all dressed?

“The sunflower is mine, in a way.”
Vincent van Gogh

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Posted in 2018

The earth weeps~What listening ears?

The Earth weeps

And the sound of her sobs

Has fallen upon deaf ears

Or met with a look of scorn

How dare she wallow

In loud suffering

Is she not bedrock

solid foundation

to our future generations?

Is she not blessed

We have come and gone

Are not our footprints eternal?

Do we brazenly shout

Into the abyss

Scream at the unknown

Rip out tree and root

Poison our affections

Abuse our children

Or despite our insistence

That we slough off

Old wives tales

Are our ears perked

Listening for the voice

Of absolution ?

Listen deeply

for it may only come

Once..  vcl©️

Posted in 2018

Unsettled ~ As the wind

I make things complicated for myself and chaotic, so I feel unsettled, and then the challenge is to make something structured and complete emerge from that.

❤️Jessica Stockholder

I am packing for a trip. A short jaunt. But packing unsettles me. Do I really need 3 pairs of shoes? What if it rains? Where are my sunglasses?….and the beat goes on, la dee dah. Experience has shown that I overpack. If I’m not careful I will let my joy get stolen. And the ransom may be  more than I want to pay.

So I’ve taken a breather. My packing will be complete. It always does. I  am writing a poem to celebrate my freedom from packing blues, spilling chaotic thoughts, into a summer night wind that’s reflecting summer’s heat. ❤️

As the wind

my mind is wafting

in and out

of conscious thought

whirling in a sea

of mysteries

Stirring up what

they aught not

Breathing in

unsettling whispers

knocking down

old barriers worn

Ancient beliefs

toppled

scattered

scorned

anticipating

wintry storms

mulling

o’r what really matters

life

             Unsettled as the wind.    vcl©️

Posted in 2018

Life is hard- then we drop a stitch

Sometimes it seems life is nothing but hard.

We battle our way,

Not always bravely~ through the days,

No end to issues that fray our mind.

Crippled, diminished, overwhelmingly maligned.

Like knitting, unraveling as we’ve dropped a stitch,

So easy to toss, refusing to admit~ defeat.

Sagely we just keep following the pattern,

Hoping it looks like the gift to others we envisioned

when we picked it.

Vcl©️

Posted in 2018

Released ~ free verse it is.

Released  

I languished in a sea of untamed thoughts

I am powerless to reign

the tempest within

Some say that there are no new stars

But I have never been this way before

Thus my story keens

As an infant born in the bowels of a boat

I seek stormy release

Fearful of the deep

As the word winds sweep

My words land disheveled

In a heap, released safely to shore

Vulnerable but with relief.

 

Picture credit: Horacio Cardozo

 

Posted in 2018

Simply living🙏

I vowed to live simply.

My internet crashed.

I learned that I could not live

As simply as that.

I am redefining simply.

Vcl©️Gogyoshi

Poetry is my first love. I remember arguing with my various English teachers about the poetry assignments. How could we truly know the meaning of a poem if the poet wasn’t alive to tell us? How could my interpretation be wrong if that was how I read it? Who really understands a poet’s heart except one who feels the same angst, awe or joy from the outpourings of the individual heart? Why did l feel such joy in perusing the pencilled words, black against the crisp white page? (Always pencil- revise, revise)😬

The internet has opened up such a banquet table from which to feast (and occasionally gorge ) on an innumerable array of poetic offerings. I enjoy various styles, but find great delight in the Tanka (Gogyoshi style ) promoted by Japanese mentor Taro Aizu. You can catch more of our work on Facebook * World Five-Line Poems.

This page requests submissions of 5 line poetry only. Other examples of 5 lines are limericks, Tanka, Cinquain and so on. Perhaps I’ll see you there?

Caio~❤️Val

Posted in 2018

Fog ~ My musings today.

Happy July musings friends 😍 June is gone…fluttering away like an un-cocooned (my word?) butterfly.  🦋 These first few days have been chilly, and cool…with a hint of fog.
Where I come from fog has a sound. Distinctly. It rolls in from a distance, rustling the leaves, sneaking through the woods, settling around our shoulders. It is the kind of sound that spawns scary horror stories and things that go thump in the night.

You hear it…you know it is coming…but not.. 😮quite.. yet….
This phot by Darlene Rafuse from my roots in The Annapolis Valley, Nova Scotia (North Mountain ) sparked that memory today. I’ve told stories about it to my husband and children who have not experienced the eerie phenomenon (stubble jumpers, prairie people every one). It usually occurs in the late afternoon along the coast, causing us children to stop whatever we were doing and run for the shelter of the cottage or home. It is like the whistle that called us to supper in the winter. It signaled night.
Life is like that….things change…
Fog comes and obscures our vision.
But in the morning the sun always rises.
The bad news : Nothing is permanent.
The good news: Nothing is permanent.♥️
Go well today. 🦋
Caio~Val