Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
We were without electricity for a good chunk of the weekend. On Saturday and Sunday from 9 - 5, the power was off in our neighborhood for some planned work being done by BC Hydro. We anticipate the same next weekend. Other than having to go to the bathroom in the dark (with a tiny
I’m feeling the weight of many things this week but there have been simple delights, nonetheless. Time for another edition of Friday’s Fave Five to shift my focus. Spring colours. I continue to be mesmerized by different shades of green as tender young leaves fill out trees. I’m not sure why, but it all seems absolutely
Some unexpectedly busy days over the past week or so, now I’m hungry for quiet time. Not yet. Not just yet. But soon. Pockets of time carved out leave me grateful for quiet moments, but needing deeper pockets in which to roll around. I practice appreciating what is rather than what could be. My backyard
Recently, I enrolled in the Jean Haines online art school to learn about painting atmospheric (and other) forms of watercolour. I’ve had great fun in recent weeks painting and practicing and painting and practicing and have created a lot of trash-bin-worthy pieces, and a reasonable number of pieces I’m pleased with. Every minute I spend
There is something different about the green in this season. Ever since the first trees started budding, even before young leaves began to uncurl, I noticed a shade of green such as I have never seen before. I look at trees in wonder these days. What is it about the green? Does it seem more
It’s not yet dawn when I stand at our living room window, mug of soy milky frothy coffee in hand, and look to the east. The sky above the distant mountains is pink and, with subtle brilliance, growing ever more mesmerizing. I know, having watched countless sunrises, that the brilliance will reach a peak, then
Friday morning. Before my first sip of soy milky frothy coffee, I watch in wonder as the first golden rays of the sun rising kiss the world where we live. I stand at the window transfixed by the grace of a deer wandering in our front yard. My eyes are drawn up as two Canada
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information? T.S. Eliot, The Rock I heard these words spoken in a Masterpiece program we watched a few days ago and they stuck with me. Written close to a century ago, they speak clearly to the state of
Friday morning, and it's a gray one. The light is on in the kitchen where I'm working in silence, chopping hard-boiled eggs into a bowl, adding them to diced green onions. When I'm finished, I'll add a dash of salt and pepper and Miracle Whip salad dressing, and spread the mixture on buttered slices of
We wake to snow. Just a dusting on the hills and the rooftops, but snow, nonetheless. We were warned by the evening weather forecast so it’s not a complete surprise, and it won’t stick around so there’s nothing to grumble about. It’s amusing, more than anything. I look up at the pale blue sky that’s dotted with
It feels like Friday, but it’s Wednesday (I almost said Tuesday. That’s how out of sync I feel.) I finished reading another good book last night (Cilka’s Journey by Heather Morris) and now I’m on the prowl for my next read.) The more I stay at home, the less desire I have to go out.