May Days

The sky this morning is gray, and rain fell during the night. It’s still raining, I suspect, judging by the sweet scent coming in through the open door in our bedroom. It looks much like most of last month looked out there, but it is decidedly different. This particular gray morning comes on the heels

Transported

I spend a silent and solitary day at home: writing, reading, potting flowers, staking tomatoes, and watering plants. But it is that moment when I’m standing barefoot on the grass in the backyard watering the tea garden and breathing in the gentle scent of lilacs that is, perhaps, the sweetest. I drop the hose, walk

A Little Late

It’s here. The spring weather I’ve longed for has arrived like a somewhat-late symphony. It’s settling in, tuning instruments, and preparing to show us something magnificent. I spend an afternoon with my hands in the dirt—the heady aroma, intoxicating, as I top up pots and plant flowers, imagining how they’ll fill in with colour over

The Beautiful Things

The house is silent. Gerry is out having coffee with his cronies. Maya, not quite herself after a dental procedure the day prior, snoozes on a blanket in the den. I carry a vase of grocery store flowers downstairs to my woman cave and set them on my writing desk in front of the north-facing

Thursday, April 25, 2019 – No Schedule

It’s so sweet to have no fixed agenda, no time commitments, and the opportunity to spend time with my husband doing whatever whenever. Sometimes no schedule is the best schedule. Sometimes I forget that. Yesterday: hot springs, drifting, tulip festival, drifting, hot springs, and a special dinner. Today: some of the same and meandering our

Friday, April 12, 2019 – Waiting

  I grow impatient for flowers in the garden in the parks and I think I might buy some at the grocery store to tide me over. I go into my archives where there are flashes of delight recalling springs past attention paid and I remember wisdom in the waiting.