Saturday Morning

Gerry and I have been retired for seven years and have grown accustomed to every day feeling like Saturday (except for the retirement gift of not having to go to busy places on the weekend like grocery stores and the like). But now, with a granddaughter in residence, Saturday feels like Saturday again. I’m lingering,

Weekend Getaway

I’m in Prince George. Makiya and I drove up yesterday because she has an appointment with her orthodontist today. It’ll be the last one here; Laurinda will have to get her hooked up with one in Kamloops going forward. It’s a long drive and it rained the whole way. No complaints about the rain after

Sensing The Season

September is one of my favourite months and we’re midway through it already! In the spirit of embracing this month of transition (in many ways), I thought I’d consider the sensual things it is offering. I see . . . leaves on trees hinting of change the smiling face of our granddaughter a flock of

These Are Good Days

These are good days. Different, but good. We are adjusting to new routines that come from having our granddaughter, Makiya, with us and the changes have brought gifts. Just now, I'm sitting in a quiet house (well, except for our Yorkie, Maya, who has spotted someone walking outside and is letting me know about it).

Simply Stellar

A stellar jay lands on a chair on my deck. I stop chopping tomatoes and watch as he hops from the chair to the railing and back again. They he takes flight, and I lose sight of him through the morning glory growing on the lattice. He is the first of his kind I’ve seen

And . . . We’re Off

Makiya rocks her first day of grade seven. After days of her asking to make sure I’ll pick her up afterwards, she walks toward me on the sidewalk at the end of the shortened first day with a new buddy. “This is my friend, Sawyer. Can we walk home together?” Turns out Sawyer lives at

A Busy Day and a Lesson

I am not as young as I once was. It doesn’t trouble me, in fact, I embrace this season of my life full on. I wouldn’t trade these years for anything, but occasionally unexpected things look me in the face and say “you’re not a young woman any more.” Yesterday, I canned one last batch of