It rains. One of those April rains where the sky suddenly grow dark, and the clouds burst forth. Then, the sun peeks her tentative face through the clouds, a rainbow appears in the sky, and, before you know it, it the sky is blue and the rain and the rainbow are fleeting memories. I spot
I sequester myself in the woman cave and write every morning. I’m in the zone, words flow, it’s wonderful. One afternoon we run errands and it’s sunny and warm. We’re on the way to the green grocer and I say that it’s almost time for iced capps. Gerry abruptly turns left into the Tim Hortons
We enjoy vegetable soup for lunch after church, and I lose another game of chess while we eat. I’m determined to crack the code of this game and beat my undefeated-in-this-house husband. I told Makiya that I’ll phone her with the celebratory news when I manage it. ”I won’t believe it’s you on the phone,”
I shoot drooping tulips and wrestle with my manuscript—two sweet ways to spend a morning. When I emerge from the woman cave for lunch (tomato soup, that I canned last summer, topped with fresh basil from the Aerogarden), the sun is peeking out. We have a late afternoon appointment in town, so enjoy a leisurely lunch,
The tulips on my kitchen table are starting to droop in the lazy way they are prone to. I’d like to pull out my camera and capture some images, but the light is terrible. I go for a pedicure instead. Now it’s morning, and dark, and I feel human again after a good night’s rest.
It starts to feel like it has always been winter. Cabin fever sets in. I bring some tulips home and arrange them in a vase. A bit of spring on my table. In silent solitude I sit with my camera and find peace among the waxy petals. Later, when I take the Yorkie outside I
I plug the card from my big girl camera into my laptop and watch as the images I captured in Mexico download. The photos I’ve posted here and elsewhere so far, were taken with my phone—quick shots, without a lot of thought put into them, they are reasonable images. When I shoot with my camera, however, I’m